Chapter Text
In the back of his mind he knew their sensei was going to die. His speech to them, his orders to Hiruzen in particular, the forced promises to not follow, and the amount of Kumo shinobi they’d seen over that crag made it abundantly clear what was going to occur. They’d watched him for awhile, he’d taken out hundreds in a few blinks. Even from the distance they were at Kagami could see the sprays of blood here and there. It had been surreal. Even with the sharingan it was near impossible to keep up with the Senju’s movements, and Kagami honestly didn’t want to. They all gasped when they watched a particularly desperate shinobi throw himself into the man’s kunai, knocking the white haired man off his dragon summon and onto the ground below where hundreds of enemy shinobi had swarmed. Kagami had closed his eyes. He had felt nauseous. Not quite sad. Or anything that he probably should’ve felt at that moment. Which caused guilt to tug at him.
“He’ll get up.” Hiruzen had said. “He told us to retreat. Let’s go.” He could tell the boy was trying to sound like a leader, but his voice was wavering pitifully. He nodded to the rest in assent, as if voting to confirm Hiruzen’s words. The boy had been fearless in his will to die a hero, but living as one was actually much harder, and he was going to have to get a hell of a lot firmer or more charismatic if he was going to succeed. Kagami kept those thoughts to himself though, ignoring the dull roar of the battle below, scuffing his shoe into the dirt. Eventually, they all turned away or looked elsewhere. Hiruzen repeated his order again, and they flitted back into the woods. Kagami kept his eyes trained downward most of the way.
After hours and hours of traveling, perhaps a day? The grey skies made the time difficult to gauge, but, they’d ended up huddled around a tiny fire. Close to home but not close enough. The weight of reality was crushing them. The weather was dreary and cold, as if someone above saw the war, the death, and was sympathetic. Kagami’s eyes flitted to Koharu, who was wailing in Homura’s arms. It was quiet minus her crying, and the fire crackling periodically. He exhaled and looked down, focusing on his battered hands.
Kagami had admittedly disliked the man. Well, that was not entirely true. He had been conflicted. He certainly had not liked him as much as his first. His own sensei had died only a year earlier, Hashirama Senju. Lord First had taught him many things, two cardinal lessons were to smile through pain, and to treat everyone with kindness. Hashirama had been an idealist. He saw the best in every single person he met. Though Kagami had a hard time seeing things the same way at times, when you were with Hashirama it was hard not to believe his ideals as well. Kagami smiled to himself. He missed him deeply still. He had never treated him like a Senju was supposed to treat an Uchiha. In fact in the year and a half he’d been under his mentorship Hashirama had treated Kagami more like a son then any of his fellow clansman had. He had been a man who Kagami had loved deeply, and despite his mother’s whispers of worry on him being reassigned to Tobirama, a man who was known to dislike the Uchiha, Kagami had been resolute it would be fine he and his teammates had been given to his brother. He had known of him. He was a serious and reserved man, fair and of slight build, with white hair and red eyes. He’d seen once or twice while training with his sensei. A stark contrast to his sensei, who was boisterous, and physically the complete opposite of the younger. He remembered the man’s eyes would train on him, sometimes for too long for Kagami to find comfortable, and then like clockwork Hashirama would always appear behind him, warm hand on his shoulder, or tousling his hair, and dismissing his brother with a laugh, something behind his eyes Kagami didn’t understand.
Tobirama Senju wasn’t at all what he’d imagined he would be however. To say he was a bit stricter was a joke. The contrast to Hashirama and his younger brother had been so stark and jarring at first it was like getting constant whiplash. Hashirama had been kind, and trusted him implicitly, often inviting him into his own home, and Hashirama, ever oblivious or uncaring of the social doctrine, would come bounding into the compound often, speaking with the people there about their concerns, hopes and fears before coming to where Kagami stayed. Clan and village lines didn’t exist to him, and he had been everyone’s Kage. He embodied why people immigrated to the Leaf. Also, even with his responsibilities as a Kage, the man always found a way to be present in Kagami’s personal life too, not just for training, but for everything.
He scrutinized his hand. He had a new jagged cut between his middle and index finger, and he could see spec’s of dirt in it. He cringed, lip curling. He ran his finger along it, flicking them out. The last thing he wanted was an infection. He didn’t look up, he could feel a certain comrade’s eyes burning into his head, eyes he didn’t want to meet. He had learned a long time ago on missions like this it was best to keep your head down. He rummaged through his small bag, looking for disinfectant, if he had any left.
In contrast to Hashirama, when he had first met Tobirama as his sensei, the man had strode up to him and had lifted him up by his collar. Kagami had struggled, a natural reaction, for the man’s face was far too close to Kagami’s as he pressed their foreheads together, before asking him, quietly, if he believed in the will of fire. Kagami hadn’t answered, instead bringing his hands to his collar in a weak attempt to have Tobirama loosen his grip. The man had slammed him against the wall behind him. A sick crack resounding through the training grounds. The pain from the back of his head was immediate, but the pain of humiliation was worse. Still, he knew better then to actually fight. He didn’t want to be seen a certain way. Even through the haze of pain and terror his brain screamed to keep it together. He remembered his face burning as he looked to his squadmates, wordlessly begging for help. His friends looked on and said nothing, as if they too had secretly always questioned him. Danzo had been smiling. Tobirama had grabbed his jaw and turned him forwards, hissing for the boy to look at him, not them. The man’s breathe coming out in hot puffs of air on his face, making Kagami want to squeeze his eyes shut but not daring. His heart had been beating rapidly as he looked into the man’s glowering red eyes. The man had shook him again, his grip tightening, choking him. “Well?” The white haired man’s stare was so intense, it felt like he could see something within that Kagami could not, and it disgusted him. That scared Kagami.
“I do,” Kagami had finally managed, weakly.
“You do?” Tobirama had simpered back, in the same weak tone, his grip on his collar becoming a chokehold and slamming him violently backwards once more.
“You better prove it.”
He still remembered standing up to train without complaint, dizzy, and the feeling of the sticky hot blood clumped in hair. His hand ran through his curls, a subconscious reaction to a phantom pain.
That had been the first time, but certainly not the last. Tobirama was particularly hard on him. Such behavior was frequent. Tobirama insisted they were to make him stronger, but he was never nearly as cruel to the others as he was to him. Kagami had lost count of how many “training sessions” he’d gone home from, bruised and bleeding. He’d lost count of how many times Tobirama had harmed him severely, eyes slightly unfocused, calling him by names he didn’t know, or had only heard whispered within clan meetings.
As much as it hurt, physically and emotionally, the teen didn’t dare create turmoil in the clan, already spooked by the prospect of Tobirama being the Hokage. They watched Kagami carefully, his relationship to the second Hokage well known. So, he had learned to have a smile and lie always waiting for his clan. At meetings, in casual conversation, in all aspects of life. He smoothed their fear over, a dislocated wrist or a broken nose was a small price to pay for stability between the village and the clan, always precariously hanging in the balance. If he had to hurt keep that balance, so be it. As long as it was him, and no one else, he’d do it happily.
Still, it had hurt him deeply feeling a rift grow between him and his comrades while their time under their new sensei’s tutelage had continued. He saw how they looked at him. In time they didn’t even try to hide it. While pulling out the disinfectant and pouring and small amount on the wound, he looked up to meet Danzo’s cold gaze. He smiled cordially.
Danzo was on his genin team initially with Hashirama. He had watched his sensei try and fail with the temperamental boy. Hashirama had brought him to the side once, telling him the boy was not from a clan, and he had lost his father to the Uchiha during before coming to the village, and that his animosity was from old wounds, and would fade. So, he tried too, but Danzo really lost all progress Hashirama had made under Tobirama’s wing. He had gone from being strange and withdrawn around Kagami, to openly cruel. Kagami balled his hand into a fist, watching the disinfectant bubble white and ignoring the cut’s screaming protests. He didn’t understand the other boy. They all had lost people, that was what the village was about, moving past it and creating lasting peace. That was Hashirama’s vision, that they could all live in harmony. Kagami had hoped one day the boy would reciprocate, and he had always been kind to him, had saved his life in fact, that scar on his chin would’ve been his neck if it wasn’t for Kagami. However, his hope in such a relationship had long fizzled out.
“Did you record it?” Danzo said suddenly. Sharply. All of them looked towards Kagami. He looked up, confused. “When he fell.” Koharu sniffled. Hiruzen’s face hardened.
The sharingan. Kagami looked back towards his sack, stuffing the small bottle back inside. “We’re at war, and we’re retreating. I just didn’t want anything to sneak up on us,” he tried to sound disarming as possible, smiling measuredly. He was admittedly well practiced, and he hoped his reassurances would remove the oppressive air of animosity that had suddenly appeared, hanging over them like a poisonous mist. He had learned to say anything to subdue them over the years. He tried to not to think about the bitter voice tugging at him, hissing about how unfair their distrust of him actually was.
“So you did.” He could feel the well rehearsed smile on his face fading, weighted down by the accusation. He glanced around at their faces, their lack of sympathy apparent. “I can’t help it.” He said finally, lowering his gaze again. If being placating wasn’t working, he wasn’t above playing for pity if it meant the conflict being resolved.
Danzo snorted, venom dripping from his lips. “Bet you he watches it over and over, they enjoy it.” Kagami’s jaw tightened. “They” did not enjoy it. Well. He didn’t. He was sure his mother didn’t either, who sometimes, while cooking dinner, or folding clothes, would suddenly burst into tears, inconsolable. His father had passed years ago, but he remembered times as child he would stare into nothing. Sometimes for hours. He hadn’t seemed to enjoy it either. There was nothing enjoyable about remembering an injury or a death. Not a friends, not a strangers. Not anyone. How often his mind would shuffle them back up to the surface, crystal clear thanks to the sharingan, making it impossible to sleep, or to even breathe properly.
“I cared about him too,” He finally muttered, twisting the hem of his dark shirt, his tone sharper then intended. It was true though. Complicated, but true. Kagami, despite his dislike for the man, had cared about him. Thinking about Tobirama made a coil of confusion furl deep inside him. There were times, despite how cruel he could be, the man had been kind to him. He had saved his life more times then he could count, tended to his injuries without fail and he remembered a time towards the end, Tobirama had taken him, just him, for tea.
Tobirama had actually walked into the clan’s compound and asked around for him. He had never done such a thing before. He remembered his sensei’s stiff movements and impassive face as they walked along side by side, his clan members openly gaping and glaring at the Kage. It was a strange, twilight zone mimicry of the days when his elder brother had come to pick up Kagami. Tobirama had said nothing while Kagami chattered nervously, trying to create a semblance of normal, during the very abnormal situation. His sensei on the other hand had not spoken, jaw set and meeting every gaze with one just as dark, just as vicious, maybe more.
When they had gotten out of clan boundaries it had been a huge relief to Kagami. Seemingly it was to his sensei too, for the man stepped ahead of him, wordlessly leading him to a tiny tea shop. After they were about 10 minutes from the compound, Tobirama suddenly spoke, making small talk about his progress as shinobi. Kagami tried to listen diligently to him through the whole strange journey before they had ended up sitting at a dimly lit counter at dusk, alone minus an elderly cook busting himself behind the counter. Suddenly Tobirama had leaned onto the counter, as if to shield himself from the child’s face.
“Hashirama believed in you.”
He said it gruffly, looking forward, clutching his tea tight in his hands, not looking at the boy. Kagami had smiled brightly at Tobirama’s hidden profile, nodding, hoping his nervousness was not seeping through, as he was never quite sure what to say around his sensei.
“I know I’m hard on you, but I believe in you too.”
He continued, shifting towards the boy suddenly. Yet he had looked just past him, down the dimly counter towards the empty seats beyond him. “You’re not like any Uchiha I’ve met before.” He coughed. “You’re a fine young man.” Kagami never knew how to respond to these compliments. It made him feel good, but they also made him feel strange. His sensei disliked his own, it was no secret, yet Tobirama did not hate him. Did that make things better? Did their relationship change things? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be relieved, angry, grateful or ashamed. Sometimes he felt all at once. He watched his sensei out of the corner of his eye. The way he turned stiffly and mechanically sipped his tea. His posture was incredibly straight, and every small movement he made seemed forced, a weapon forced to mimic a man. Kagami was jolted for his thoughts when his sensei suddenly offered to order the boy dango, eyes trained once again on his tea cup. Hashirama used to do the same, and it caused a dull ache to pulse through him. Still, he grinned at his mentor, never one to refuse such an offer. As he ate, he wondered if he took his other students to places like this, what he said to Hiruzen and the others when he spoke to him one on one. Danzo in particular, was very close to Tobirama. He was certain he’d seen them walk home from training together more then once, and he’d seen the two serious men laugh together. He’d never made either of them laugh. He wondered if they talked about him. He wondered if he was the joke.
He looked at his sensei again, who was now ordering the elderly cook to “heat his cup” as the tea was getting “too cold too fast.” He snorted, watching the two older men argue, and forcing such darker thoughts away. Tobirama was here with him now. So he obviously cared for him too, in his own way. He thought about Hashirama, and his philosophy, before breaking into a cheerful smile and thanking the man beside him for the food, with a light slap to his shoulder. He bursted out laughing when the Senju practically jumped out of his chair. The cook did too.
This seemed to break the awkwardness of the affair a bit. “I’ve learned a lot from you,” he continued. It hadn’t been a lie. He had learned a lot of jutsu, and a lot about the world from Tobirama. He didn’t understand him, sometimes he hated him, but that much was true. Tobirama had nodded stiffly, and then had looked the boy over, his red eyes landing on a space just above him head. He then grunted out an acknowledgment.
“You have the will of fire.”
Kagami tried not to choke on the food he was chewing. He had been prepared for all sorts of responses, his sensei was a man who could change moods quickly, but he still attempted to outline the direction of the conversation in his head, lest things go south very quickly. He had not expected this however. Not in a million years or a million scenarios. He had learned long ago any compliment Tobirama gave him was to be taken hesitantly, as it likely was meant as a mockery but, somehow he knew this one was real. He couldn’t help but feel warmth radiate through him at that moment. He knew he might be a fool, but it felt overwhelming to hear such a thing from the man who had once beat him for even saying he could be part of such a thing. It was a rare moment that he cherished, though it just as often caused him to lay on his bed, weighing good moments like that with the bad, forever unsure of how the man really felt about him.
Danzo’s feelings however, were crystal clear.
Kagami could see the teen across from him was shaking with malevolence. “Don’t you lie you....you rat!” Danzo roared. The rage in his voice was palpable. He was stomping towards Kagami, kunai glinting in his hand.
“Hey Danzo, enough!” Hiruzen called. He didn’t move to stop him however. None of them did. In a moment he was on him.
Danzo tackled him, kunai whipping this way and that. “Your people wanted Lord Second dead!” He growled, spit flying and and hatred in his eyes, it was apparent he truly was trying to get an opening. To hurt him. To kill him. He activated the sharingan and that seemed to somehow double Danzo’s strength and rage. Kagami grunted in the effort of keeping the other boy from bringing the kunai down on him. “You all deserve to die!” He was screaming, his vitriol loud in Kagami’s ears, and his spit all over his face. When he realized no one was going to intervene yet again, he tightly gripped Danzo’s arms with his own, digging his nails in enough to draw blood. Danzo’s face contorted in pain, and his eyes snapped downwards to glare at his supposed comrade. “You’re all just like Madara!” he spat the last word like a curse. Kagami didn’t reply. He had what he needed. He had not wanted to put him under a genjutsu, but he didn’t want to physically hurt the boy out in the wilderness either. Danzo went limp on top of him.
“Ugh,” he shoved the other boy off of him, not able to hide his irritation and disgust. The boy landed on his back with a dull thud, head lolling. He could deal with a lot of things, he prided himself on it, but being attacked was a hard line. “So what was that?” He said, whipping around to look at the silent audience, smiling bitterly. Hiruzen was looking downwards, shame apparent on his face. Kagami brushed himself off and wiped his face with his sleeve, wet from the other boy’s spit. On the ground beside him the dark-haired boy moaned.
“What did he do to him?” A horrified whisper from Koharu.
“Genjutsu.” Homura replied to her, disgust apparent in his tone.
“He was trying to kill me!” Kagami could hear his voice raising, the anger dripping into his voice he worked so hard to keep out. It felt like an out of body experience, all the bitterness and hurt leaking out and overriding his thoughts. Hurt from never being treated like a full Konoha shinobi, bitterness and anger from carrying burdens that weren’t his own. He tried to imagine what Hashirama would do, what Hashirama had told him to be, but images of Danzo coming down on him with a Kunai, his black eyes full of hatred, kept superseding the image.
Another groan of pain from the boy below. His eyes were glazed over, distant and unfocused.
“Fix it!” Koharu’s shrill voice demanded, laced with terror. Kagami crossed his arms. How many times had he suffered and they done nothing? How many times had their sensei harmed him far beyond what could’ve been considered training right in front of them and they had again done nothing?
He touched his nose, crooked, an older gift from his sensei. “He should be able to release himself. He’s a chunin.” he retorted, rubbing his shoulder and stalking away from the body.
“Kagami. Release him.”
Hiruzen was speaking with such a firmness it shocked him. He knew him and Danzo were close, but Hiruzen was never very good at giving orders. A good shinobi for sure, even a great one, but a leader? No. Not to Kagami anyway. Perhaps Tobirama’s words had had influence after all.
“I am the leader Tobirama chose, and I demand you release him.”
“He is!” Koharu chirped in agreement, Homura nodding solemnly behind her.
Kagami shifted, sizing up the teenagers in front of him. That was what Tobirama said wasn’t it? Before he left to his death, he had declared Hiruzen the third Hokage. All of them here would vouch for it. That had been Tobirama’s choice, a sixteen year old would be the Third Hokage. Something about that fact made a chill run down his spine.
“What will you do, when we get back to village if I release him?” He said softly. “What do you mean?” Hiruzen said, sounding genuinely confused.
“He attacked me.” He looked to where Danzo was splayed out. “And has wanted to for a long time,” he added silently.
“Well I’ll handle it!” Hiruzen said, defensively. The Sarutobi shifted his weight from one foot to the other, regarding him the same way one might a wild animal. “He’s mourning you know. He never would have done this if it wasn’t for...” He turned back towards the wood behind them, hiding somewhere in it’s treeline a rock face, below that valley, where hundreds, maybe thousands of bodies lay. One likely Tobirama’s. “So we try to kill our friends when we’re upset?” Kagami countered bitterly, hugging himself tighter. He was sick and tired of the way he was treated. He had thought Tobirama saying he had the will of fire would change things, but perhaps that had been him being naive, caught up in the euphoria of finally winning his sensei over. He had known even at the moment deep down it meant nothing, but it still was like a slap in the face. He massaged his left shoulder, which had taken the brunt of Danzo throwing himself.
A particularly sharp gasp of pain came from the boy below. Kagami frowned. He watched the boy twitch and shake on the ground, a bit of drool leaking out the side of his mouth. Even if the boy hated him, he hated seeing other people in pain, especially pain he caused. He hated genjutsu too, coming up with an idea to incapacitate someone was not hard, neither was projecting it, but being under one was a lot different then casting one. He attempted to avoid using it almost as a rule, despite his natural giftedness towards it, since every single one he’d been under had found his way into his nightmares.
“If he ever does something like this again, I’ll punish him.” Hiruzen finally continued, an attempt at sounding diplomatic he was sure, but the kid’s voice cracked. Kagami sighed. He glanced at the other two ninja. They looked afraid. Of him. Not the boy who tried to kill him. “He’s right. They see Madara,” His internal voice said this often, but, it rang triumphant today. A picture of the cofounder of the village was conjured up, stories of the madness in his eyes and how he spoke of the destruction he was going to rain down. Kagami barely remembered him, and within the clan they were not supposed to speak of him, but his mother had lived through it, and told him stories in hushed tones. They were stories Kagami was unsure he’d ever repeat.
He exhaled, kneeling over the dark haired man and released him. The surge of power leaving his hand feeling too warm. Immediately, he jolted up, screaming. Kagami held him in place as he got his bearings, trying to be mindful of the crescent moon marks he left on his arms previously. Hiruzen ran over, almost bowling Kagami over in the movement, snapping and trying to get his friend’s eyes to focus. “You’re alright, yeah?” Hiruzen voice sounded strained in his ears. Kagami could feel himself gripping too tight as he held his squirming peer. Eventually Danzo came to, tears in his eyes. Kagami let go of the other boy abruptly, leaving him to Hiruzen.
Kagami was not a particularly vindictive person, in fact he did not consider himself that at all. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel satisfied in the result. He walked over to Koharu and Homura, ignoring how they shrunk backwards as he sat beside them. A barely detectable movement, but noticeable to him nonetheless.
“You fucking bastard.”
Came hoarsely from the man Hiruzen was helping up. “You attacked him.” Hiruzen choked out to the teen he was supporting, a weak attempt at neutrality. Danzo glared daggers into the boy sitting beside Koharu and Homura.
“Don’t you dare think I’ll ever forget this Uchiha.”
Kagami didn’t respond. He was trying to taper his anger and satisfaction and everything else into nothing. He was not going to be that man. He pressed his shoulder once more and cleared his throat.
“We need to get going.”
Koharu turned her head to glare at him, hands balled and shaking. “Who said you get to decide? After what you did?” Kagami laughed quietly and shrugged. “It was a only a suggestion.”
Koharu snapped her gaze back to where the two teen’s standing. “What should we do Hiruzen?” She said, putting emphasis on the Sarutobi’s name. “Ah.” Hiruzen shifted, eyes knitted together in thought. Kagami shifted back to hugging himself. During the skirmish the temperature had dropped significantly.
“We have to retreat. Like sensei said.” Danzo, forced out, his voice returning to him. Hiruzen nodded at his friend’s suggestion. Kagami couldn’t help but roll his eyes, but he didn’t point out the obvious. They all stood up, Homura and Koharu side by side, and Hiruzen supporting Danzo’s weight. Kagami stood a ways away from both groups, when Anbu appeared in front of them.
The Anbu was their sensei’s creation. A secret police of sorts, to protect people in cases of great danger. On paper anyway. Kagami’s opinion of them was poor, he’d seen them on the battlefield, and they were particularly ruthless, often unnecessarily so, even for shinobi.
They were three. A female and two males. The man closest to him was thin, but his height and aura made him an oppressive presence, towering over Kagami. His mask was that of a boar, with intricate ivory tusks sticking out. He didn’t speak to any of them at first, letting out a wave of insects from his long loose sleeve. Kagami’s stomach turned. He’d never been particularly fond of the Aburame clan’s techniques. He was completely still in front of them, and the other two behind him the same, as the cloud of beatles dissipated, the sound of buzzing surrounded them at all sides.
After a few moments, some insects returned, and his mask suddenly tilted downwards, as if seeing him and the others for the first time. “The war is over. The Second Hokage has perished. We are here to escort the Third to Konoha.” His voice was strange, as if many people were speaking as one. They all shifted uncomfortably. Except Danzo, who stared at the three with a deep fascination he’d never seen on the man’s face before.
Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. The war was over. They had won. He looked at the others, breaking out into a huge smile, despite himself, the first real one of the night.
“The war is over?” He questioned to the air, exhaustion and joy in his voice. It was worth it, all of it, this whole Hellish night, if it was over. His hands were shaking, no longer from the cold and he ran them through his dark curls over and over, trying to keep himself from bursting into laughter, or tears, or both.
“And I’m the Hokage.” Hiruzen said, suddenly, shakily, looking as though for the first time those words were sinking in.
“—But Lord Tobirama is dead.” Danzo hissed from his side.
“It becomes our job to keep his will alive,” Homura spoke solemnly. Koharu nodded.
“To keep the will of fire alive,” He corrected, his own words ringing false to him. Yet Hiruzen nodded furiously.
Kagami And Danzo’s eye’s met. The man sneered at him, Before turning his face upwards, seemingly addressing the air. “I will keep your will alive Lord Second! I promise you!” He said it with such mad rapture Kagami almost expected their late sensei to respond. Instead it was just the frigid air through the trees, the fire and the underlying sound of buzzing insects from their Anbu friend.
“We must delay no longer.” The man in the boar mask boomed.
“Right. Right!” Hiruzen murmured first to himself, then louder to the group, and they all disappeared into the treeline. With the frigid wind whipping through his hair and biting his face Kagami let his mind wander to the future, to a time when this war and this night would be a distant memory. Things would be different now, he thought glancing at the back of Hiruzen’s head. Maybe things would be better.
The Third was surrounded by the Anbu, the two males at his left and right side. The man with the boar mask was now carrying Danzo on his back. They seemed to be conversing. Danzo had looked back at Kagami once or twice but he pointedly ignored it. Koharu and Homura were close behind the three, with the female Anbu member taking up the rear. The three members were in a protective triangular formation he’d seen his sensei draw up before while strategizing. “The one in the back has the hardest job, because the two up front protect their respective side of the escort, left or right depending. As well as their half of the front, but the one taking up the rear has to be capable of covering the entire 180 degrees of the back.” Tobirama’s droning sounded boring even from memory, but the triangle only worked decently if the one in the truly could see that much at once. “Perhaps a Hyuga,” he mused, hopping beside the masked women and flashing her a smile. He’d seen the female turn around more then once, subtlety, making him feel he was holding everyone up, or she had a message to relay...or he was just being watched. “All exciting possibilities!” he thought to himself sarcastically.
“Stay out of the formation.”
He looked to see a visage of a death mask staring him down. In contrast to the dramatic Noh mask, her presence seemed nonexistent, her figure was small and slight and her voice sounded the same as rustling leafs, catching through them and whistling away as if it never existed.
“Any reason why?” He tried to continue conversationally, but this was hard to do when you couldn’t catch intent on either expression or tone.
“I already set up a barrier. You’re outside it.”
He nodded, stopping a moment and watching a significant distance grow between him and the others. She didn’t turn around again.