Work Text:
Once upon a time, there was a family of four sons, all respectful of their duty to the Emperor and their country.
So, when the call came for young men to become soldiers, the two older brothers strapped themselves into the armour left to them by their father and uncle, bid their younger brothers a fond goodbye, and departed for the war.
The elder, Hashirama, tall and strong as a tree, took to army life easily.
He hefted the sword like it weighed nothing, and swung it in great arcs that decapitated the training posts. His booming laugh and friendly nature brought smiles to the faces all around him, and he was well liked by all of his fellows.
His younger brother Tobirama, on the other hand, was cold and isolated himself from the rest of his squad, preferring his own company or the company of his brother above all. In addition, he was pale and odd looking, with hair as white as snow and markings that he painted on his face each day that made him appear as ferocious as a snow leopard. As such, he was widely disliked despite his competence with his chosen weapon - the spear.
The commander of his unit saw the dissension in his ranks, but chose to do nothing about it, his mind consumed with the coming glory of battle.
And thus, on the appointed day, the whole force marched out to join up with the rest of the army.
As they travelled, the soldiers were gleeful, dreaming of a triumphant return and the joy of their families at seeing them again, but their happy banter was all too soon cut short.
For, at the place were they were due to meet the rest of the army, there was only the remains of a village that had been burned to the ground, and a single helmet. Their commander fell to his knees and wept into the snow, for he recognised that helm as a heirloom of his family, given to his older brother Madara when they had ridden away to war.
There was no time to grieve however, for their enemies came upon them while they were unprepared, riding swift horses and unleashing a rain of arrows.
Their commander Izuna unsheathed his sword and charged the enemy, howling his brother's name; and his men, bound by honour to his will, followed him to what should have been their death.
All except for one.
Tobirama.
Many men would have died that day, except that Tobirama had carefully preserved a single rocket which he used to cause an avalanche that thundered down the mountain and carried away the enemy.
Knowing that the man who they had previously despised had saved them all, the squad crowded around him, cheering his name and showering him with praise.
All, but Izuna.
For Izuna had sharp eyes, and he had seen, amongst the enemy, a figure that he had recognised though he was chained like a dog - his brother Madara.
In saving the squad, Tobirama had also caused his brother's death and that was something Izuna could not forgive.
And so Izuna sent Tobirama away, into exile, to make his lonely way home while the rest of the squad returned to the capital in triumph. As they left, Hashirama looked back, but none could gainsay the will of their commander and he departed with the rest.
Tobirama walked home, slowly through snow and winter winds, taking shelter in caves as he found them.
Then, one night, he saw something that made him freeze in shock.
For there, stalking through the snow like ghosts from a tale, the leaders of the enemy walked, dragging his commander's brother behind them.
And Tobirama knew then that his job was not done.
The end.