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Tobirama slipped easily from the Senju compound - more easily than his brother, or possibly any other Senju, could have, for all his colouring made an unmistakable banner of himself. He spirited away into the forest that surrounded their walls - no longer diligently held back at a distance from them, as it had been once, as he vaguely remembered from his childhood.
With Tobirama, possessed of depths to his sensing abilities no other could dream of matching, and Hashirama, who could turn the forest against an enemy with less effort than it took to lift a finger, the trees that had grown right up to the very walls that protected their homes were . . . not a weakness.
Tobirama passed beneath them without a flicker of anxiety, for whatever threat the trees posed, it was one Tobirama knew would never touch him. Scaling one broad, warm trunk, he all but flew between the branches, senses unerringly leading him directly to-
Hashirama stood in a small clearing, barely a few paces across, dappled with patches of sunlight that made it through the canopy. Tobirama slipped down, landing silently on the mossy earth, and moved to his brother. He raised a hand, smoothing it over the small of Hashirama’s back and up over his spine.
Hashirama shuddered under the touch, but he was already relaxing into it, shoulders slanting downwards and head bowing minutely. Tobirama smoothed both hands over his brother’s shoulder blades, then moved forwards, circling him closely. He let Hashirama’s hand catch his sleeve, then the fabric of his short yukata over his hip, holding on tight, without protest. He trailed his fingers over Hashirama’s side in return as the trees creaked around them, a deep, steady sound.
Tobirama stiffened, turning away as he poured more chakra into his sensing ability, chasing the feeling that had teased the edges of his senses. Hashirama’s hand tightened in the fabric at his hip, his brother coming closer still with a soft sound of concern.
Tobirama glanced over his shoulder and smiled slightly, shaking his head as he caught his brother’s eye. It had been a patrol, not one of theirs, but far off - Yuuhi, these particular signatures familiar to him only because he’d slipped into and out of their compound last year; they were already ranging further than usual and would come no nearer. The Yuuhi tried not to quarrel with the Senju, and they preferred to stay far from the Uchiha - keeping the Senju, or one of a few other clans, between them when possible.
Hashirama eased again at the reassurance, wrapping his arms around Tobirama’s waist, and he let his senses dull back to their usual level, faintly aware of the group of Yuuhi as he was of the stronger presence of their own clan, back in the compound. No one else was within range at this level, though when he had focused he had felt a far-off patrol of Uchiha, nearing Nara territory.
Nothing to be concerned about save his brother, who had brought him out into the forest today - among the trees that were, as ever, a safe harbour open for them both.
Hashirama hugged him tighter around the waist, head bowing to rest against his hair, lips brushing the nape of his neck. Tobirama smoothed a hand over his forearm, humming soothingly before giving a gentle squeeze.
He stayed quiet - it felt wrong to speak, and with his brother there was no need - but feathered his chakra against Hashirama’s in a light caress and stroked his fingers up Hashirama’s arm again before he moved. Hashirama whined softly as he let Tobirama go, arms obligingly loosening, but followed him without a pause as he crossed to one of the welcoming trees and settled at its base.
Hashirama brightened a little and dropped down beside him, curling his legs up and leaning into Tobirama’s side. His hair spilled over his shoulder and fell across Tobirama’s chest as he snuggled closer, not quite making himself small - a difficult proposition for him, though Tobirama had seen him manage it - but accepting a place curled under Tobirama’s arm with an easing of the tension he carried at all times now.
At least, every moment he spent within the walls of the Senju compound.
Tobirama sighed, running his fingers through Hashirama’s hair, tilting his head to rest his cheek against his brother’s brow. He leaned more heavily against the tree that shifted minutely at his back, inviting their rest with its steady strength, and settled himself comfortably; this forest was far more home to them both than their own compound, even now they were grown and Hashirama had become the guiding hand for their people.
Hashirama drew a deep breath and the dappled sunlight around them dimmed as the trees rustled overhead, leaves spreading a little wider. Sheltering. The earth beneath Tobirama thrummed with the pressure of the tree’s deep roots shifting. He stroked Hashirama’s neck with light fingertips, tilting his own head back to rest against the tree trunk, then returned to combing his fingers through his brother’s hair.
Hashirama’s powerful and dizzying deep well of chakra was warm and content, smooth now with calm, in contrast to the earlier unsettling tangle it had been in Tobirama’s senses, plucking at him, calling him to his brother. Tobirama relaxed under its implacable weight, lazy and secure. He smiled slightly, eyes closed, as Hashirama curled yet closer into him, lying across his chest, hand stroking across his ribs and curling into his clothes.