Chapter Text
“You of all people should understand. Look at you! You look like you haven’t slept in three days!”
Everything about the man seemed to droop that the pronouncement and it was answer enough for Tobirama. Hashirama-anija’s normally perfectly styled hair (not that his obnoxious brother would ever admit to indulging his vanity) had disheveled strands poking up in all directions, making the now-clan head look like an odd species of spiky brown cactus. But brushing aside the hair, one could almost mistake Hashirama-anija for a tanuki as the shadows around his eyes were that pronounced. His older brother also sported uncharacteristically rumpled and creased clothing - almost like he hadn’t changed clothes in a few days.
Actually, as an ominous dark brown stain on the other Senju’s neckline caught Tobirama’s eye, that spot looked suspiciously like yesterday's ‘lunch’ (more like a hurried snack eaten on the way out of one meeting and to another) of miso eggplant.
At the beginnings of an answering twitch of the lips into a sheepish smile, Tobirama shook his head in disbelief and bulldozed on. He didn’t really want to know for sure. Ignorance (feigned or otherwise) is bliss.
“Butsuma finally croaked and left behind a mess of the whole clan! I refuse to leave you to clean up his shit all by yourself.” Tobirama stood up abruptly, fury written in the glint of his red eyes. Then, just to make it clear to the idiotic log, his lips pulled back to reveal gleaming white and pointed canines in a way that was entirely Hatake in nature. “I will not be going on this mission and that is final .”
“You can’t say that about Otou-sama even if that’s true. That’s disrespectful.”
“Fuck him, it’s true and you know it. The Senju under his rule was a clan on the brink of ruin. Besides, what is he going to do about it? He’s dead ,” said Tobirama, mockingly. He looked pointedly first at Hashirama-anija and then down at himself, wearing the traditional mourning outfits.
It had only been a month since the previous clan head died. Since Butsuma died. Good fucking riddance.
The newly crowned clan head just craned his head up from where it rested on the unforgiven cedarwood of the desk with tired eyes - a look that Tobirama hated to see on him. Everything about Hashirama-anija was cheerful and bright and to see him bereft of what was fundamentally him, was jarring. Even his chakra was subdued and it grated on Tobirama’s senses whenever his chakra brushed up against Hashirama-anija’s. It was disconcerting to expect the usual smothering and sticky chakra, only to receive a pale imitation.
As soon as things went back to normal (or a new normal), Hashirama wouldn’t be this unnatural shade. That’s why it was imperative that Tobirama get back to work instead of wasting time discussing missions that the Senju couldn’t afford to undertake, much less the now-heir of the Senju.
“Tch,” Tobirama didn’t want to see the shade of his brother anymore. With that parting he concluded, “I have so much work to do. Work that I do not need to remind you , has to be done and is actively accruing every second as we speak.”
Tobirama’s hand had just gripped the handle of the door when he was interrupted.
“Where do you think you are going?” Came a voice from behind him. It was true that the voice was quiet, yet every word was carefully measured in a way that belied the anger stemming from exhaustion.
With his back still facing Hashirama-anija and body positioned to leave, Tobirama said nothing and waited for his brother to continue with a sense of impending dread. He just knew that the next thing Hashirama-anija said would change his mind. He sighed internally. For once Tobirama would have liked to win an argument.
“Tobirama, please don’t argue with me,” begged the newly crowned Senju head in a resigned voice. “I can’t take it. Not today. Not now.”
He just stared at his brother and raised a white eyebrow in a silent challenge.
“You’re the only one that I can count on to not mess up this lucrative an offer.”
Unspoken was that Tobirama was the best shinobi in his clan besides his brother. A mission of this caliber with this high a payout had more benefits than disadvantages. Hashirama could trust that Tobirama had the skills necessary to not only complete the mission successfully, but also quickly .
But more than that, the Senju were indeed under great strain, having to juggle a radical regime change whilst keeping up appearances to other clans that may take advantage of the adjustment of a new leader. They couldn't afford to be perceived as weak.
Not in this ruthless, blood-soaked world, where compassion is equated with vulnerability.
(The additional funds wouldn’t be amiss, either.)
This time, Tobirama sighed out loud as he forced himself to release the tension in his body. He scrubbed a hand tiredly over his face and noted absently pulled together eyebrows and tightened eyes under the rough pads of his fingers - he must have been frowning without noticing again. Tch, another bad habit that Hashirama-anija disliked.
“It’s just a simple escort mission for a jewellery supplier! It’ll only take just over half a week - you and I both know you can return by the time the week is up.”
“But, Anija-”
“Tobirama, please.”
“...fine.” Tobirama darkly scowled in a way that he knew made his slanted features look sharper. “The things I do for you…,” he trailed off, muttering some choice words under his breath.
Naturally, Hashirama-anija practised his selective hearing now that he had gotten what he wanted.
“Oh good!” Hashirama-anija clapped his hands in delight as all traces of seriousness were gone only to be replaced by an idiotic levity. “Can you send the client in?”
“HE’S OUTSIDE?”
“Ow! Don’t hit me, don’t hit me! ”
“It’s what you deserve!”
It was fifteen minutes later, that the client was finally waved inside by a disgruntled Tobirama as Hashirama sat bruised in the corner, sending pitiful pouts to his only brother. It was utterly unprofessional, but seeing as neither Senju brother had had a handful of hours to rest in the past month, it could be excused. Not that Tobirama had particularly wanted to be escorting a civilian merchant for half a week.
Besides, the reputation of the Senju spoke for itself. With a track record of near perfect mission success even ordinary Senju were highly sought after, not to mention the behemoth of the battlefield and stalker of the night - the nicknames that civilians had oh so graciously bestowed upon the now clan head and clan heir of the Senju.
“Please take a seat,” waved Tobirama to a suspiciously new looking chair in front of the desk. The Senju both studiously ignored the remaining wood chips from the previous chair’s shattered ruins that had been hastily tossed out the window in an effort to make the room look more presentable...after Tobirama had expressed his displeasure quite violently.
In had walked a man of average height with all the distinctive features of ordinary, non-shinobi Fire Country natives. Running his fingers over the sleeve of his clothing as his eyes flitted about the room with more interest in the items with nary a care to the two trained killers. He had only spared them a passing glance. More damningly, he sported an open face clearly displaying the apprehension most likely mirrored on the inside, he would not have lasted beyond his first battle as a shinobi.
Tobirama sighed.
Perhaps he had been a shinobi for too long.
“Thank you for having me.” The client started then continued in a hesitant voice, “But, err, is everything alright? Before, I heard some crashes?” He trailed off and looked at Hashirama-anija curled in the corner and then back to Tobirama who held himself very still.
“Yes,” said Tobirama curtly as Hashirama-anija with a quiet grunt of effort, pushed himself off the floor and dragged himself to his desk. They were both the picture of professionalism. Nothing to see here, nope.
“So?” A white eyebrow raised expectantly.
Visibly struggling to push aside his concerns but scarcely needing the encouragement, the merchant introduced himself readily. He cleared his throat too many times to be completely at ease. Civilians had the strangest reactions to shinobi.
“As I told Senju-sama earlier, my name is Matsuoka Satoshi and I am the co-owner of MatsuTaka which is a business that supplies and transports raw materials from a mine in North Fire Country, straight to the Capital. My partner Takahashi Keigo and I require protection for the trip from our village Enbashira to the Capital's jewellery district. Senju-sama said that you were the best man for the job. I look forward to working with you.” Matsuoka finished with a weak chuckle. Tobirama had been glaring at him nonstop. The civilian merchant shook a little under the piercing red eyes that spelled pain should anyone cross him.
Volunteering Tobirama before he had even agreed (not to mention springing this on him at the last minute - a fact which he was very not over)?
Oh, Hashirama would be getting an earful after this.
Satoshi did his best not to cower under the focus of Senju-san, who lurked in the corner and made his opinion known acerbically several times. Hearing that deep booming voice that cut through the air with the presence of a hammer on an anvil, never failed to bring a flinch to Satoshi’s shoulders and cause a hitch in the middle of his sentence.
Ah well, it can’t be helped. Satoshi was paying for protection and the more intimidating this strange and hostile man was, the better a deterrent against any bandits. Satoshi swallowed shakily. It’s just, he wished that Senju-san wouldn’t turn such a look on him .
Sweat dripped down Satoshi’s brow as he staunchly did his best to ignore the pale ghostly man burning a hateful hole into his back, and concentrate on filling out the forms in front of him.
Once the details of the trip had been negotiated away and the price finalised, Tobirama pushed himself off the wall where he had been petulantly leaning against it in retaliation for his brother sending him on this stupid mission.
It would be a two-man job, so that meant Tobirama had to do extra work to find a partner at such short notice. Why did he persist in giving in to Hashirama-anija again?
No sense in whining. It wastes precious time, after all. Hmm, for a job of this caliber...it wouldn’t be amiss for fourteen year old Emiko. The practise would be beneficial for the bright young kunoichi. Not to mention, she could use the confidence.
“Great. See you in a week.” Tobirama didn’t spare a backwards glance as he strode towards the door and contemplated the paperwork that he was going to have to do in double the time to finish before he leaves. It would honestly be a terrible ending to a terrible mission if he returned back only to be swamped by then drowned by piles of documents and reports. Death by drowning was meant to be impossible for a shinobi with the level of suiton proficiency that Tobirama possessed. Although, he mused sardonically, Hashirama-anija’s presence and influence did have a way of defying reality.
“Tobira! Don’t be rude.” Admonished Hashirama-anija after him, then with a beatific smile which Tobirama didn’t need to see to know would have been labelled a ‘customer service smile’ in another life, he apologised, “I’m so sorry about him. His manners may need some working on,” Hashirama-anija shot a poisonous look at the white-haired shinobi’s back - it was said within earshot - that Tobirama promptly ignored, “but his achievements speak for themselves and more than make up for it.”
The door rumbled as it slid shut and the merchant’s reply was lost as conversation became muffled and indistinct. Tobirama could have channelled chakra to his ears, but he honestly didn’t care.
There was so much work to do.
“Tch.” Tobirama deeply regretted his (deliberate - not that he would admit to his older brother) rudeness had not scared the civilian off. So, here he was a week later, stomping through the leafy forest of Fire Country as Emiko trailed behind.
“What was he thinking ?! I need to be there with Anija, instead of traipsing through the woods like an idiot! There’s still plenty to do, so why send me away? We don’t even need the money that badly!” Two hands flew up in a double demonstration of sheer exasperation.
“Tobirama-sama?” Inquired Emiko as she sped up to draw pace with him. He simply waved her concerns off and with a nod, she fell back once again. The rear-guard was the most vulnerable and ordinarily, green shinobi wouldn’t take this position. But Tobirama was more than confident in his sensing skills. He would know of potential issues long before it evolved into something they needed to worry about. Emiko needed to know how to perform in this role, and the security of having a shinobi of Tobirama’s caliber provided the perfect conditions.
The pair of Senju were a couple of kilometres out from the meeting with Tobirama belatedly remembering to send out sweeping pulses of chakra like echolocation, when something pinged off his senses and made him pause.
Emiko. Tree. Bird. Human - weak and untrained: Civilian 1. Izuna. Uchiha teenager. Human - weak and untrained: Matsuoka Satoshi, Civilian 2. Horse. Horse. Tree.
Wait…
Izuna?! Tobirama’s sandal clad foot skidded for a split second before he regained his footing. Emiko sent her clan heir a strange look. What was his brother doing here? What was he doing here with an Uchiha teenager? From the strength of the chakra, it looked to be a trained shinobi.
Izuna’s smouldering, ember-like chakra had long been categorised as safe to his conscious and subconscious mind, but he should have picked up the other Uchiha’s ages ago.
He mentally cursed. Why had he let Hashirama-anija’s actions goad him into doing something this stupid?! When had he even stopped purposely moulding chakra and switched to his passive sensing? The inwardly distressed Senju cast his mind back for answers, but everything from the past week and especially the last few hours, was a haze of sleep deprivation.
Idly, his mind wandered back to a highschool psychology class from Before. He distinctly remembered reading that being awake for at least 24 hour resulted in the same effects as a Blood Alcohol Level of 0.10%.
So, what did a month’s worth of lack of sleep equate to? Probably severe alcohol poisoning.
This is probably why Hashirama-anija told him to get a good night’s sleep last night, he realised with a dumb incredulity that only the erosion of good sense could bring. Maybe Tobirama should have listened to him instead of pretending to fall asleep then waking up five minutes later to finish the twenty four documents he had left.
Well, a month’s worth of minimal sleep was a significant contributor to Tobirama’s bad ideas. That was, after all, also the time when Tobirama invented most of his jutsu.
When the problem is the problem...
Tobirama flashed through the different possibilities that Uchiha presence suggested. They could have been on an unrelated mission.
But to be in the direction of and presence of their clients could only mean one thing.
Tobirama scowled darkly despite the tension bleeding out of his body. The client had also hired the Uchiha.
Emiko saw Tobirama-sama skidded to a stop in front of her, causing her to also hastily scramble.
Tobirama-sama had been sweating quite profusely earlier. (She had learnt a lot of new words that she dared not to repeat. Not to mention that most of those things had been said about Hashirama-sama . Sweat broke out on her forehead even thinking about it.) But as horrifyingly amusing as it was to listen to the usually stoic and stern man let loose like a boy her age, it was...concerning. It was, however, even more concerning that the man stopped his tirade. It was like negotiating with a stone wall - that is, taking Tobirama-sama’s attention away when he got like this. Everyone knew that when it came to Tobirama-sama and Hashirama-sama’s latest antics, it was just best to leave him alone and let him go for as long as he needed to.
The last time an interruption happened...well, the Senju had learned a collective lesson that day.
She didn’t exactly blame her clan heir. Emiko, like the rest of the Senju, had always loved their scatterbrained and weirdly cheerful now-clan head, but the numerous incidents of him accidentally growing a tree through someone’s house during his childhood, made everyone well aware of Hashirama-sama’s particular brand of...everything. Tobirama-sama was a blessing in that regard - able to reign in his brother’s (endearing) oddities.
No! Stop it. She smacked her face. What did Ayumi-sensei always say about letting her thoughts wander? ‘A shinobi thinks of nothing but the mission’, or something like that.
Right, yes. Where was she? Tobirama-sama’s uncharacteristic action during a mission.
What could make him stop dead in his tracks? Was there any trouble? Emiko cringed. She didn’t want to let him down. She had been thrilled to be hand-picked (hand-picked!!!) by Tobirama-sama for this mission! There were so many better kunoichi, like Touka-san, Ayumi-sensei or even Ran-nee. But Tobirama-sama chose her. Tobirama-sama specifically requested her.
It took great effort not to let out a little ‘squee’. That was un shinobi-like, after all. However, Emiko did allow her heart to flutter and her chest to puff out a bit, as a tiny and proud smile found a home in the twist of her lips.
Damn it! Getting distracted again. Ayumi-sensei would kill her, if Emiko didn’t manage it herself.
Right, back to business. Had Tobirama-sama seen something? She was in the rear-guard position. That was the most important position in any team formation! Because- because, the rear-guard not only was the most vulnerable spot to be attacked from, but also afforded visuals on the rest of the team members in front of them. Tobirama-sama had entrusted her. Tobirama-sama had entrusted her.
Was this a test? Did she fail?! She did, she just knew it! Oh nooooooo~
Pulling at brown strands of hair, she clutched her head tightly in despair. She’d failed ! Tobirama-sama would never trust her again and then he’d tell the rest of the Senju and they’d never trust her again and then Hashirama-sama would-
“-secret?” Broke the distraught teenager out of the spiralling abyss her panic-laden thoughts were taking her down. She hoped that Tobirama-sama hadn’t noticed.
“S-sorry?” She squeaked and felt heat burn her cheeks.
Tobirama-sama gave her an indescribable look through tired eyes as Emiko felt her cheeks valiantly imitate a furnace.
“I’m sorry! I did my best, but I failed. I let you down, Tobirama-sama. I swear if you give me another chance, I can prove-”
Tobirama-sama just shook his head as he held up a hand. He shifted and she caught a glimpse of punch-black eyes. She felt herself cringe and draw back a little every time she spotted it. She had her private doubts about Tobirama-sama’s recent health. Was Tobirama-sama really well enough for this mission? It had been hard after Butsuma-sama died and not long after had both main clan brothers been seen around the compound looking haggard with those dark and unfocussed eyes.
It must have been very hard. Poor Hashirama-sama. Poor Tobirama-sama. Butsuma-sama was...not the nicest person (she wouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but she had heard whispers - adults didn’t tend to watch their mouths if they didn’t notice you were there) but he was still their dad. Emiko had lost her dad when she was seven and missed him fiercely every day. Still, despite Tobirama-sama’s clear fatigue, it wasn’t her place to question her superiors. Especially not the amazing and super cool (!) Tobirama-sama.
“Just, stop.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as she quietened, chastised after letting her mouth involuntarily spew a multitude of apologies. “You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, it was me.”
Emiko waved her hands around as she frantically denied Tobirama-sama’s words. Tobirama-sama was so strong and perfect and if anyone was at fault, it was her-
Her rising panic had the teenager nearly missing out again on what was said.
“Can you keep a secret?”
“Um, yes?”
“...”
“I mean, yes! Definitely!” She saluted. “Absolutely I can.”
Her clan heir sent her a dubious look but continued on.
“Are you sure?” Asked Tobirama-sama, with a serious note in his voice.
Something about the way he spoke…the weight with which he had given those words, sat heavily between them. This same sense of foreboding ran up and down her spine like spiders. She had only ever felt this before once - when she had waved her civilian brother and father off as left with the rest of the Senju merchants for the capital. Day and night, she would sit by the gates no matter how much scolding she received from her mother, but they had...They had never returned. Tears pricked behind closed eyelids but she determinedly blinked them away just in time to catch Tobirama-sama’s next inquiry.
“If you cannot, then we will turn back now. It is not a reflection on you-”
“I can,” she said with a steely resolve that hadn’t been there before. The kunoichi was not going to let Tobirama-sama down. Senju Emiko would not be the reason that this mission failed before it had even begun.
“Is it possible that you made a mistake and it isn’t really the Uchiha Weasel that you can sense, Tobirama-sama?”
“No, I can sense Izuna and another Uchiha. My senses do not lie.”
“...and it’s safe?”
“As much as we can ever be as shinobi.”
“...okay.”
“Emiko, I will ask you one more time - can you handle this?”
“I can do it, Tobirama-sama!”
“Good girl.” He ruffled her hair as she beamed. “Now come. Follow me.”
Tobirama foolishly hoped that he wouldn’t regret trusting Emiko.
Emiko was young and had shown favourable signs of being open towards peace with the Uchiha. He knew he should have turned back, but...Hashirama-anija would be disappointed and probably wouldn’t believe him that Izuna had been there. However, the clan head would believe Emiko if she said so.
But Tobirama had really missed his brother in the wake of Butsuma’s fortuitous passing. It was the only thing that waste of oxygen had been good for. And the Senju knew that Izuna wouldn’t hurt Emiko...and could probably control the other Uchiha.
Tobirama really should turn back. But they’re in for a penny, in for a pound , as the saying goes.
In the distance, the image of four figures and a cart attached to two ponies became more distinct as they approached. In his off-hand, the older Senju signalled a silent ‘get ready’ and only entered once he had received an ‘affirmative/acknowledgement’ back.
“Someone’s coming-,” was all Tobirama heard before he burst into the clearing with Emiko half a second behind. A shinobi of lesser skill would certainly have disturbed the dust and fallen leaves on the ground, but Tobirama’s arrival was not heralded by any forewarning - only the filling in of space that was not occupied in the half second before.
One of the things that made Senju Tobirama so deadly and that earned him the epithet of ‘Ghost’, was his ability to be undetectable until it was too late.
The Senju was met with the startled visage of Izuna and the beginnings of a battle-ready snarl to complement the drawn kunai and defensive position that his brother had instinctively fallen into. An unprepared shinobi is a dead shinobi, after all.
Izuna’s mouth fell open before he closed it a second later. A long ponytail shifted as he shook his head in disbelief.
“Tobi?” The Uchiha croaked in stunned disbelief. His Sharingan that had automatically activated, faded away to coal-black.
“Izuna,” replied Tobirama blandly, very aware of their audience.
“Izuna-sama!” Interrupted the Uchiha teenager, frantic as she stepped forward. Her chakra was agitated and not unlike tongues of flames lashing out as it greedily devoured a stack of paper, to Tobirama’s still heightened senses. “That’s the Senju Demon!”
“Misato, stand down! Tobirama isn’t a threat.” Izuna barked but the teenager stubbornly steps forward to draw attention away from the hand sneaking to the brace of kunai in the pouch behind her leg. Too obvious, Tobirama thought, Izuna should have taught her better.
Clothes rustled anxiously behind him and Tobirama placed a steady hand on Emiko’s shoulder. Across him, Izuna grabbed the younger Uchiha by the forearm and leaned in to whisper something. Whatever his brother had said, it clearly worked as Misato nodded and stepped back, still warily eying the two Senju as she fingered her sharpened kunai.
Tobirama breathed a sigh of relief. They wouldn’t be having another interloper incident. As much help as Touka-nee and Hikaku-san had been in furthering their plans and creating amicable Uchiha-Senju links, he wouldn’t mind skipping the confusion and angst.
“Oh, you know each other! That’s good.”
“Hn,” acknowledged Izuna in a way that seemed flippant to those that didn’t know him well. Matsuoka was quick to hide the slight creasing of the brows and reeling of the head, but it was not fast enough for shinobi to miss. To Tobirama, who had known him for two lifetimes, this was the response his brother gave when he was extremely off-guard yet wanted to exert a modicum of control.
“You neglected to inform us that you had hired other shinobi. This is not what we had agreed upon.”
The merchant immediately started whining and Tobirama felt his anxiety rise. Not only did this merchant have the audacity to be so self-centered and inconsiderate of others, but he had explicitly gone against their contract. The Senju knew for a fact that there were clear clauses written in that prohibited clients from hiring other shinobi without informing the Senju.
“It wasn’t MY fault! Takahashi didn’t tell me either until two days ago! By that time, it was too late to let you know. Besides, you two can work together! Less work. Don’t worry,” Matsuoka hurriedly said as Tobirama’s face grew darker, “I’ll still pay you the same.”
“This is a breach of our contract. By all rights, we can immediately terminate the agreement and return home.” The merchant paled upon hearing Tobirama’s words.
“Well, well, well,” piped up a weedy and nasty looking man with a long face, slid down from the side of the cart where he had been sitting. “Looks like you can’t do anything right, can you?”
“Shut up, Takahashi!”
The two merchants immediately began screeching at one another, heedless as to their company. Tch, so unprofessional. Tobirama would never let any Senju behave like that - they would immediately be demoted to janitorial work after spicy fish night.
(The chefs always put way too many chillies in the dish. Every spicy fish night, Tobirama would stare in horrified amazement at the heaping pile of chillies where the fish would presumably lay under. In his private opinion, they should really just rename it to ‘chillies with some fish’. Tobirama’s stomach turned at the thought of spicy fish night and he could almost hear the retching and churning of the other Senjus’ stomachs that began not even ten minutes after they had started eating. Fish was his favourite dish, that was true, but the way it was prepared was quite frankly sacrilegious.)
Ah, so this...unpleasant man must be their second client, Takahashi Keigo. Tobirama felt his hackles begin to rise. This man reminded him of spicy fish night.
Seeing Tobirama’s expression get darker and darker as the two merchants continued, Izuna knew he had to step in before he witnessed a murder.
Masterfully (if he did say so himself), redirecting his brother’s ire, there was a break in the screaming about five minutes in, that Izuna took as the best chance he was going to get in avoiding a massacre before it happened. In the way only a little brother could instantly shift the target to themselves, Izuna cut in and threw a hand on his hip as he hip-checked the white-haired Senju.
“Aww, but aren’t you glad to see me?” Pouted Izuna as he playfully stuck out his lower lip. Ok fine , Izuna wasn’t going to lie - Tobirama’s brusque hostility was unexpected. He hadn’t seen his brother in ages , and the first thing he does, is complain that Izuna’s there? Rude.
A hint of insecurity must have slipped through, because his brother finally faced him and yeesh! What a sight! Izuna barely hid a wince. His Aniki looked terrible! He looked like he had gone ten rounds against...Madara-niisan or Chuck Norris. And lost, obviously.
After that fucker Tajima, finally kicked the bucket (Sayounara, bitch! You won’t be missed~), things had really picked up at the Uchiha compound. Luckily the transition had been easy as Madara-niisan with some help from Izuna, had managed to sneak some groundwork in during Tajima’s dictatorship that paved the way to a relatively smooth handover. After the initial two or three weeks or so, things had calmed down significantly and life was slowly returning to normal. It was great! The people loved Madara-niisan.
A twitch of the fingers brought Izuna’s attention back to reality. He watched as Tobirama’s slender fingers deftly twisted even as he verbally replied - lip curling up in disgust. With a final flick of the wrist, Tobirama finished.
Hn, ‘don’t let them get suspicious’ and ‘keeping up appearances’ (which was what they meant in this context)...was fine. He could accept that.
Izuna turned back to the two, thankfully, silent merchants. As much as he would like to tease Tobirama, his brother did have a good point about keeping up appearances.
“The Senju is right. This is against Uchiha policy. We explicitly forbid joint missions with the Senju and a breach of a non-essential term does incur financial compensation.” Izuna quirked an eyebrow up challengingly. Considering the shinobi were clad in armour and hosted an array of sharp weapons, not to mention the reputation that being able to use chakra for laws-of-physics-defying feats gave them, all four must have cut an impressive sight.
“Yeah, but you said it was ok if there were other shinobi!” Cried Matsuoka as he shook his business partner around as if the answers would drop down like a shaken peach tree..
Ah, customer service. How Izuna had missed it (not). Why couldn’t these people just get it right the first time?!
Takahashi opened his mouth with a haughty look on his face - presumably to continue producing unnecessary carbon dioxide.
“Do not start again.” Tobirama warned icily and Izuna was extremely grateful that he stepped in first. He was sure that he would have just screamed in the guy’s face, ‘valued client’ or not (thanks, Nii-san).
“No need to worry, man!” Matsuoka gulped and put his hands up as he backed away from Takahashi, who took two steps back and stuck his nose in the air.
Tobirama took a bracing breath beside him. Izuna felt that, he really did.
“Yes,” started Izuna very patiently , “but when you said that there was another shinobi, I didn’t think it was going to be a Senju !”
“Why? What’s wrong with him being a Senju?” Asked Takahashi, fiddling with a loose thread.
“The Uchiha and the Senju are mortal enemies. Our clans have been at war for countless generations,” explained Tobirama like he was speaking to a particularly small child.
Wide-eyed, Takahashi and Matsuoka glanced at each other before Matsuoka piped up.
“...will that be a problem then, or?” Asked Matsuoka after checking that he wasn’t going to be eviscerated for opening his mouth.
Both Tobirama’s and Izuna’s heads swivelled to face the two merchants in a disconcertingly in-sync manner. Sweating profusely, like Matsuoka needed to self-produce enough water for an entire rice paddy, the merchant waited for the answer as Takahashi tapped his foot impatiently.
Twin shark grins crawled up the two adult shinobis’ faces.
“Let’s talk about renegotiations, shall we?”
(Inside, Tobirama and Izuna were beyond thrilled with the legitimate excuse to spend non-violent time with one another without fear of the battle ending. Or the fighting intruding on their space.)
“Emiko, introduce yourself to your teammates.”
“Hi- Hi? My name is Senju Emiko, it is a pleasure to meet you. I hope we work well together!”
“Misato, you too.”
“Hn. Really?”
“ Yes .”
“Ugh, fine. The name’s Misato. Uchiha Misato.”
“Is that it?”
“...”
“Good enough.”