Chapter Text
The experience of pregnancy was one of bittersweetness Tobirama had decided. He had been plagued with inconsistent bouts of morning sickness for the majority of the first trimester, along with having increased sensitivity within his chest as his body began to accommodate the child forming within him. Mood swings were also present, instances of Tobirama snapping at those around him only increasing due to his enhanced irritability and at moments experiencing such deep emotion that tears began to brim in his eyes. This emotional instability had him thoroughly frustrated, unused to experiencing such a fluctuation of feelings and it had the albino feeling just a tad more sympathy for his elder brother. Kami, the man had been insufferable since Madara and he announced his expectancy to their close family and friends, his clingy overprotectiveness only growing with knowledge of Tobirama’s condition.
If Tobirama was honest with himself, the others within his small circle were no better in their treatment of him. Madara rivaled Hashirama in taking the place of most suffocating, his husband continuously babying him and barring the Senju from doing activities he deemed unsafe for him and their child. Izuna, ever his brother’s co-conspirator, was often tasked with what Tobirama dubbed “babysitting”, typically just sitting with the albino as he completed the activities he was allowed to partake in and chattering on about his day and asking questions about his impending niece or nephew. Hikaku was a bit more amenable, the third heir of the Uchiha clan treating him as he usually would with some exceptions of course (the blasted man would casually snitch on him to his husband and elder brother when he attempted to do things he had been banned from). Toka, much to his frustration, joined in on the specialized treatment he was receiving, shifting their weekly spars into weekly light exercises or simply enjoying one another’s company through walks about the village and so on. Out of all of them, Mito was truly the most tolerable, merely treating him like normal though “within reason” as she stated and Tobirama knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Otouto, there you are!”
Tobirama looked up from the scroll of sealing theory he had been working on mastering before his pregnancy came to light, glancing at his elder brother with annoyance, “What do you need anija?”
The sensor already had been experiencing a taxing day; at six months along, Tobirama was constantly having to relieve himself due to the shrinking space of movement for the ever growing child within him. His mood did not improve as the early morning hours wore on and he found himself struggling to maintain his balance with the new weight that came with his “baby bump” as Izuna described it and with the backaches that came with it. Altogether, he was not in a good mood and his brother’s antics would most likely only sour more with his presence.
Hashirama swept into the room with all his dramatism, the human tree grinning madly, “Can’t I come see my otouto and my future niece or nephew with treats?”
“Not when you use the foods my child and I are currently craving to further your petty agenda to be titled favorite uncle, anija,” Tobirama retorted off handedly, turning the page with little effort.
The mokuton user let out an offended gasp as he slapped a hand over his heart, “I would never do such a thing! You insult me with such an accusation!”
Placing a hand atop the curvature of his distended stomach, Tobirama gazed at his brother with a deadpan look, “I may be experiencing symptoms of forgetfulness and cravings that are associated with pregnancy, but I have not lost the ability to notice when someone is attempting to manipulate my person and my child to achieve an advantage over a ridiculous title.”
Hashirama let out a nervous gulp, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish grin, “We may have taken our little competition a bit too far, haha!”
“A bit too far is an understatement.”
“Tobirama, is everything alright- oh, Hashirama, when did you arrive? You informed me you would be drowning in paperwork till supper time.”
The two brothers looked to the doorway with curious eyes of chocolate and wine, swiftly taking in the form of Mito, the Uzumaki dressed in a snow white and coral pink kimono.
Hashirama nervously shook in his seat, “Uh-I-uhm!”
Tobirama, quick to end this whole bribing debacle, answered for him, “Anija is here in an attempt to gain my favor through acts of bribery, just as my pathetic brother-in-law. This time it appears to be dango.”
The mokuton hurriedly hid the container holding the treat behind his back, giving his wife a strained smile, and the Uzumaki simply let out a sigh and pointed to the door, “Out Hashirama. Now.”
With a lowered head, his ever emotionally fluctuating brother left the room with a dark cloud over his face, leaving Mito and Tobirama to their own devices, much to the sensor’s utter relief. He cared for his elder brother, would do anything for him if asked, but there were moments when that child of a man proved strenuous on his already withering patience.
Just as Hashirama stepped outside the room, Mito snatched the box of dango from her husband’s hold, “I will be confiscating these, thank you!”
Cries of objection filled the air as Mito soundly closed the door with ease, leaving Mito and Tobirama to themselves for the time being.
A swift kick to his inner organs had the Senju releasing a moan of discomfort, moving a hand to the site of pain, “And they had just settled down. Those imbeciles are going to drive me mad.”
“I am sorry for letting him disturb the two of you, otouto,” Mito gave him a bittersweet grin, coming to settle beside the now disgruntled Sensor. “Please be reassured that Hashirama and I will be having a lengthy discussion over this “favorite uncle” debacle occurring between him and our dear brother-in-law.”
One of her soothing hands came to rest beside his own, firm kicks welcoming her touch with fervor, and the Uzumaki could only smile in fond glee, “The creation and development of a human being within oneself is fascinating, is it not?”
While he most definitely had his grievances regarding the process of childbearing, Tobirama could not deny the open ended statement his elegant and poised sister in law had provided. To watch oneself grow as a child and simply as an individual was always something Tobirama greatly enjoyed, for one could witness the gradual attainment of knowledge both in skill and in intelligence over the time of development. The science and psychology involved in one’s maturation, along with the cultural and familial connections an individual undergoes in their lifetime. He had been tasked with raising Itama and Kawarama from a young age following the sudden death of their mother, a loss Tobirama himself struggled to recover from due to her influential presence within his life during the short time he had been under her loving care. Father, so focused on melding optimistic and naive anija into the perfect heir and actively working to ignore him, his abnormal looking second son, placed the younger boys into his hands and deemed them Tobirama’s responsibility alone, along with his shinobi training.
Those short but blessed years raising Kawarama and Itama had been ones that Tobirama still to this day looked back on with bittered fondness, having been the one to teach them to crawl, walk, talk, read, hold a kunai, avoid topics that would insight their father’s wrath, and so much more. When they first lost Kawarama, Tobirama feigned to be strong, to be emotionless because Hashirama was unable to take the beatings, both verbal and physical, and he would rather sacrifice his life than let father harm sweet, innocent Itama. It was his duty to protect his brothers and while he had failed his otoutos, Tobirama reveled in the joyous truth that Hashirama, though often dull minded and overly emotional at inappropriate times, was still alive and well and would be present within the child growing within the albino’s womb. Madara and his child was going to grow in a home of love and security, surrounded by loving uncles and aunts and extended family that Tobirama himself had foolishly wished for as a young child many years ago.
Yet, even with the contentment and surety he possessed, Tobirama found himself hesitant and even fearful of being a parent, for once again being responsible with a small life that needed nurture, attention, and protection. The twenty-one year old shinobi had found himself plagued with self-doubt and nightmares of Itama and Kawarama in a variety of scenarios, typically ones of their death, with either one or both young boys questioning why Tobirama had not been there, that if he had been unable to keep them safe how could he ever expect to do differently with a child of his own. He spent some nights just staring at the ceiling as Madara slumbered peacefully beside him, his hand tracing the ever growing bump that represented the continuing development of their unborn child, the one that he deeply feared of failing and kami was that fear suffocating-!
“Tobirama, otouto!”
A tender hand that came to rest heavily on his right shoulder thrust the Senju from the depths of his mind, the cries of Itama echoing within the caverns of his cranium as his merlot irises clashed with Mito’s darkened orbs. Worry was etched into the typically composed kunoichi’s facial features, unadulterated concern clearly visible in both her eyes and body language.
Carefully adjusting his position, Tobirama internally worked to settle himself within the moment, “I am sorry, I, I was deep in thought.”
Swift kicks to his ribs jared the Senju further into the present moment as his precious sister in law studied with knowing eyes, “You were more than just deep in thought Tobirama. What on earth is going on?”
He shook his head vehemently, moving to stand to his feet, “Nothing, nothing is going on.”
“You must take me for a fool Tobirama Senju because if you think I will believe in a weak excuse such as that,” Mito retorted hotly, moving to join him. “One does not cry over nothing, especially you!”
Wet trails on his face became evident in that moment, his hand moving to wipe away the offending liquid with a grunt as he ventured into the kitchen across the room, “I am simply experiencing a mood swing, that is all!”
The Uzumaki princess pressed forward, determination shining brightly from within her eyes, “I have been subjected to enough of your mood swings over the past few months Tobirama to know when you are experiencing one and when you are genuinely upset over something! Whatever it is that is troubling you otouto, I can help!”
“No you can’t,” Tobirama shouted, spinning abruptly on the redhead.
Surprise colored Mito’s features as he pressed forward, anguish gripping his heart, “No one can help me with this Mito, for it is my burden and it is one you cannot even begin to comprehend!”
The door leading into the room slid open just as Mito moved to offer her rebuttal, revealing the one person that Tobirama absolutely did not want to see right now.
“Hey, what’s all the shouting for,” Izuna cockily questioned from his position within the doorway, a playful smirk on his face. “Did Tobi do something off limits again? Aniki’s going to be thoroughly upset with you, Senju!”
Mito turned on the younger Uchiha with fire and bristol, “Now is not the time to be joking around Izuna! Leave!”
As the two bickered with one another, Tobirama found his mental status quickly devolving as the the reality of his situation began to settle in; he was going to be a horrible parent just like he was for Kawarama and Itama and gods he could not bury another one of his children-! The ability to breathe quickly grew strenuous as he came to firmly gripped the counter, his mind becoming overwhelmed with a flood of emotions he could not identify for the life of him in that moment, how could he have been so stupid -! His vision blurred as the world around him began to grow dark, murky visions of Mito and Izuna coloring his field of sight.
“-obirama!”
With a wave of sudden nausea, Tobirama found his legs giving way and his body in free fall, quickened breathing only growing faster with every second. Strong arms roughly caught him midway, Mito’s voice echoing in the distance as everything devolved into a further state of distortion. He could faintly sense waves of panic and raw anxiety wafting off of both Mito and Izuna’s chakra signatures as his vision grew darker with every hitched breath.
“-touto, otouto stay with me!”
The guilt only grew as Tobirama felt himself slip away into the warm embrace of unconsciousness, succumbing to the emotions barraging his pregnant form.