Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s raining.

He can feel each drop like ice against his cooling skin. It would feel nice, if not for the fact that it’s not clean, the smoke from the battle field mixing with the falling drops and leaving smears across his paling skin. He has lived most of his life in war and this one irritation, this one bit of frustration stands out the most.

He’d laugh at the thought if his chest didn’t feel like it is slowly being caved in. The blade piercing his armor into his lung might also have something to do with that feeling as well.

Blood wells up in his throat and he coughs weakly, pain distant as the world starts to fade a little with each minute that passes. He can only hope he did enough. That his sacrifice won’t be in vain and that his students managed to get away.

Around him, the rain falls harder, hissing gently and underneath the sound, the soft crunch of foot falls over gravel announce the arrival of someone come to watch him die. He might have once felt bitter, but…well, he doesn’t really feel much anymore. He hasn’t in a long time.

Like a wraith in the grey shadows of the storm, the shadowed figure sharpens and dark eyes stare down at him from a face lined with age and pinched with hatred. Angry triumph stares down at him and if he’s hallucinating, then he might as well play along with his mind’s final moments.

“Come to watch me die, Uchiha?” he asks bitterly, mouth twisting sardonically around a cough before he settles back against the cold ground. Rain clears the blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

“You deserve worse,” Madara hisses down at him, gripping the gunbai in his hand but he doesn’t swing. What’s the point? He’s dying either way. Faster would only end his suffering sooner.

He actually laughs at that, a bitter sound that is wrenched out of his chest and leaves him gasping for breath. “You can’t kill someone who’s been dead for years now,” he gets out between gasping breaths.

“What are you talking about?” Madara hisses and he can hear the creak of leather over the rain as his hand tightens over the handle of his gunbai. The mind is an amazing thing to create such detail, even on the verge of death.

Lifting arms that feel weaker than he’s ever felt in his life, he clumsily reaches for the wooden beads of the bracelet he wears, has always worn for years now. The slide of wood across skin, aided by the rain, is barely felt. Even the pain in his chest is fading.

The seals carved into the wooden beads flash faintly in the grey light and as his hand falls back to the ground, his wrist bared, the henge that always hid part of him falls. A familiar symbol appears, faded…greyed by time and death, standing out starkly against the pale skin of his wrist. “I’ve been dead for a long time Uchiha,” he mutters, eyes blinking heavily as he turns to look up at the heavy clouds. “My body just didn’t realize,” he murmurs, a despairing joke that falls flat.

“This…this is a trick,” Madara growls, hand reaching down to grip his wrist, pulling his arm up harshly, gloved fingers running over the mark but it’s permanent. He was born with it and he’ll die with it.

“Looks like you were right all along, Uchiha. Only a monster could kill their own soulmate,” he huffs out. He has no tears to give. He grieved for decades, sought penance in the only ways he knew how. And now…here on this desolate battle field, so far from anything that remotely looks like home, he will die with ash in his mouth and a blade through his lung.

Madara releases his arm like it burned him, eyes wide with shock. “Can…,” he coughs weakly. “Can I ask one favor?” he asks, though he doubts the man, this hallucination, will do anything for him but the worst he could say is no and he doesn’t have anything left to lose.

“What?” Madara snaps, a snarl twisting his face.

“Can you tell me about him?” he asks weakly, still staring bleakly up at the clouds.

“Why should I do anything for you, Senju?” he snarls.

“You don’t have to. I simply asked. Maybe it’s pointless, but I had to ask, if only the once,” he mumbles, feeling a heaviness settle over his body. It’s not much longer now.

Silence hangs over them but he doesn’t look at his hallucination. Finally, Madara moves, shifting to sit heavily in the mud beside his head. “He was my youngest brother…” Madara whispers, voice nearly lost in the hiss of the rain.

Tobirama lets his eyes fall closed as he listens to Madara talk about his brother…about Izuna. His consciousness fades to the sound of the rain and a murmuring voice and falls away into darkness.

His body is never found on that battle field, despite people sent to recover it. All they find is his happuri, carelessly thrown aside and wooden beads carved with seals. Were any to check an abandoned and over grown cemetery, they’d find a new grave next to one dug decades before. The headstone is blank, but then, no one comes to leave offerings, so it’s pointless.

Chapter Text

“Tajima-sama,” Hikaku murmurs as he shuts the door and bows to his clan head.

“Report,” Tajima barks, not looking away from the map spread out in front of him, the various clan lands that surround the Uchiha lands marked in various colors.

“No casualties, but many wounded who will be down for days, if not weeks,” Hikaku reports. “Our scouts report it was a combined attack from the Hagoromo and the Megumi Clans,” he continues.

“That makes three now,” Tajima interrupts him, picking up a wooden disk and setting it down on the Megumi Clan lands. A small strip of their lands runs along Uchiha land to the north. With the Hagoromo to the south and the Fuuma smack in the middle, it’s three fronts to deal with in force rather than sporadic attacks from clans that also fought each other.

“Our spies report that the Senju face similar attacks to the east,” Hikaku adds cautiously. The Senju have always been a sore spot for the Uchiha. They’re not eternal enemies, their lands too far away, too many other clans between them to constitute war, but they aren’t allies either, too many slights over the generations keeping them from anything but neutral at best. The fact that the Senju hold as much power and land as the Uchiha has also never sat well with many clan heads in the past and Tajima as well. Fucking Butsuma always liked to rub the Senju’s connection to the Daimyo’s family, however distant, whenever they crossed paths in the past.

“Any losses?” he asks curiously.

“None that we know of, but it seems the alliance is pushing them just as hard. As well, I’ve heard rumor that they might try and send an alliance offering to the Senju,” Hikaku relays.

“Like that over bearing oaf Butsuma would ever ally with those cutthroats,” Tajima snarls, fist smacking onto the chubudai and making the wooden disks jump with the force.

“But what if he does?” Hikaku asks boldly, looking at his clan head. “What if the Senju join forces with the Hagoromo, Fuuma and Megumi Clans?”

Tajima lets out a growling sigh, rubbing at his temples where a headache is building. If the alliance gets the backing of the Senju, it will wipe the Uchiha out. They can barely contend with three fronts of attack as it is and with the weight of the Senju behind them…

And there’s Butsuma’s son to consider as well. He’s heard much about Hashirama’s Mokuton and how devastating it can be on a battlefield. He needs to stop this alliance in its tracks. The Uchiha are a formidable clan, have been for generations, matched only by the Senju, the Hyuuga, and the Nara, Akimichi and Yamanaka alliance.

The Nara, Akimichi, Yamanaka alliance prefers to stay out of the warring, keeping mostly to themselves and making profit hand over fist selling their soldier and food pills to various clans in need, as well as their medicines. As for the Hyuuga, the moment he considers making an alliance with that spineless ‘noble’ clan, is the day he gouges out his Sharingan and throws himself on Amaterasu’s pyre.

Which really only leaves the Senju as possible allies against this upstart alliance. If they get even one more clan on their side, it could spell disaster for the balance of power and Tajima refuses to fall before these minor clans. “Bring me the Elders,” he orders Hikaku. “Like hell will I allow the Senju to ally with these damn upstarts. Send Madara as well,” he adds and Hikaku nods before rushing out.

~*~

Madara adjusts his formal haori stiffly, ignoring Izuna’s snickers as they make their way through the imperial gardens. Madara!” someone yells and he jerks at the shout, turning to glare at Hashirama.

“Keep it down, idiot. We’re in polite society now, not on a mission,” he scolds and Hashirama wilts at his friend’s snarling reprimand.

“You don’t have to be so mean,” he mutters, the alpha whining softly and Madara can feel how hard Izuna is rolling his eyes behind Hashirama’s back.

“Get up, idiot. Act your age,” he grumbles, hauling Hashirama to stand.

Hashirama stands with a smile and looks around. “Is it just you two?” he asks as he nods to Izuna in greeting.

Madara huffs, “Yeah. Last we saw, father was getting drunk with Butsuma and getting ready to start a pissing match over past insults,” he grumbles. He feels sorry for abandoning Hikaku to watching over those two but he is supposed to be meeting his betrothed for the first time today and smelling like sake and pipe smoke is not how he wants to meet Hashirama’s little brother.

“Where’s…you know?” he asks uncertainly. Hashirama is still a little sore about his little brother being given away to seal the Senju Uchiha alliance, even to Madara, his best friend and any mention of it sends him into depressive episodes.

“Oh, Tobirama got called away just before we left the compound and is going to be a little late,” he frowns, looking up at the angle of the sun. “In fact, he should be here–,” he starts before a flash of light has him and Izuna jumping and reaching for weapons tucked away in sashes and up sleeves, though Hashirama only jumps to turn around to face where the light came from. “Tobi!” he cries, rushing up to hug his brother.

The man side steps easily and Hashirama, already overreaching, runs head first into an arch with a wisteria growing along it. “Anija,” he grumbles, glaring down at Hashirama.

Madara can only stare at the pale man in front of him, decked out in dusty armor, a thick fur ruff around his neck and a happuri against his face and holding back the shaggy white hair adorning his head. A beautifully crafted sword hangs from his hip. He can hear Izuna choking softly at the sight of Tobirama, the omega seeming to be momentarily unaware of their presence in his ire with his brother.

“Tobi, you’re so mean,” Hashirama cries out, pushing himself up.

“I told you to keep my marker in the room for my return, Anija,” he scolds.

“But Tobi, I wanted to be the first to greet you on your return and to make sure you were safe and unharmed,” Hashirama whines pitifully.

Tobirama huffs, but seems to defrost in the face of Hashirama’s serenity. “Well, I’m safe and unharmed,” he grumbles with a wave of his arms, showing off leanly muscled arms.

“That’s good to see. Oh, Tobi, this is Madara and Izuna. Madara, this is my brother,” he says with a big grin, pointing behind Tobirama.

Tobirama stiffens and whirls around, finally noticing the two chakra signatures behind him. His red eyes go wide, a flush starting to spread across his cheeks and down his neck that stands out starkly against his pale skin.

Red eyes narrow and then he turns to face Hashirama though they can still see the flush on the back of his neck and the tips of his ears. “Anija,” he growls lowly and Hashirama smiles widely, taking a discreet step back.

“Tobi, it’s fine,” he tries.

“I specifically asked you to place my marker in the room so this wouldn’t happen,” he hisses, taking a step to follow his retreating brother. “I didn’t want them to see me like…like this,” he growls, gesturing to the dirt and bits of blood caking his armor and travel clothes.

Madara quickly stammers out hastily, “You…uh, you look fit,” and then flushes at how badly that came out.

Izuna snickers and Tobirama turns back around to look at Madara with narrowed eyes. “What my idiot of a brother means is that he has no problem with this,” Izuna assures sweetly with a grin, digging an elbow into his ribs to get him to break out of his stunned stupor.

“Wha, yes…yes,” he agrees with another flush.

Tobirama eyes them both for a moment before he nods minutely and then turns back around to face Hashirama. “I am going to our rooms to get changed. Don’t do anything I’ll regret,” he warns frostily and then storms away before Hashirama can reply.

“Itama and Kawarama are waiting for you. Touka as well. We’ll be waiting by the Lily Pagoda,” he calls with a wave and Tobirama huffs and keeps walking.

They wait until Tobirama disappears around the corner of a building before Izuna turns to Hashirama. “That is your little brother?” he asks sharply. “You never said he was a shinobi,” he accuses.

“Why does it matter?” Hashirama demands and then he frowns, “Unless the Uchiha have a problem with omegas being shinobi,” he adds.

“What, no, we’re not that old fashioned,” Izuna snaps back with a glare. “But I think you broke Madara,” he adds and Hashirama finally looks over at Madara who is still staring in the direction Tobirama left. “Aniki has a thing for pretty and deadly,” Izuna explains.

“Oh…OH!” Hashirama says, finally getting what Izuna is implying.

“Shut up, bark brain,” Madara snaps, finally tuning back into the conversation, though his face is bright red. “We were heading for the Lily Pagoda,” he grumbles and starts to march away.

“Aniki, the pagoda is this way,” Izuna calls out and with a snarl, he turns around and heads the right way through the gardens.

~*~

His blush thankfully recedes by the time he make it to the wing set aside for the Senju Clan in preparation for the upcoming wedding at the end of the month. With the Daimyo’s coronation soon to pass, an official order had been sent out to all clans that for the month of his coronation celebrations, there would be no fighting and any who attempted to would face the Daimyo’s military.

Thus, the Senju and Uchiha have chosen to spend the month ironing out their peace treaty and alliance by marriage during the celebrations. With the Daimyo’s blessing, the official wedding would be held in the last week of celebrations, the Daimyo himself asking to be in attendance of such a momentous event as the Senju and Uchiha setting aside their differences and becoming allies. That there is pressure from the Daimyo to use the two large clans to help bring order to the rest of the unruly clans, is a secondary incentive.

Thus, Tobirama is supposed to be meeting his betrothed Uchiha Madara today. Or he just met him…while still in his filthy clothing, having just come from a mission that needed to be done for the betterment of the clan as a whole. A job only he could do.

He still can’t believe Anija was so foolish as to carry his marker around with him.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be a total disaster, Madara seeming to not care about his shinobi status like many older clan were. In fact, he seemed to like it a lot judging by the flush on his face.

“Tobi, you’re back,” Itama calls out as he slips inside their rooms and his brother tackle hugs him from the side.

“I’m filthy, you’ll ruin your clothes,” he reprimands.

“I don’t care,” Itama says with a grin. It’s hard to believe his little brother is nearly of height with him, now at nineteen.

“Please, Tobi, we’ve hugged you under worse conditions,” Kawarama grumbles, coming up from his other side and hugging him as well.

“Now, now, we need to get Tobi-chan ready for his date,” Touka drawls from where she’s leaned against the wall.

Tobirama flushes and glares at her, “It’s not a date. He’s already my betrothed. Dating would be pointless when we’re getting married in three weeks,” he grumbles. “And don’t call me chan.”

“But Tobi-chan, you’re my baby cousin. Someone has to knock you down a peg or two,” she says with wide grin, red lips stretching over bright white teeth. “Alright you two, scram and make sure Butsuma doesn’t do anything to mortally offend Tajima before the wedding,” she orders and they salute her cheekily, press quick kisses to Tobirama’s cheeks that makes his swat at them and then they rush off.

“Well, start stripping. We’ve got to get you presentable and we don’t have a lot of time,” she orders.

“Too late for that,” Tobirama grumbles, reaching up to unclasp his armor.

“What?” Touka asks, arching a brow at him.

“Anija had my marker in his pocket,” he explains, dumping his armor off to the side. He’ll clean it later. “He was talking with Madara and his brother Izuna,” he adds.

“Kami save us from that cloudy head,” she hisses, rubbing at her eyes. “What happened?” she asks, helping him out of his kimono top, though he doesn’t need the help. He knows it’s her way to check him for injuries and doesn’t fight it.

“Nothing much,” he admits. “It…I don’t think this,” he gestures to his half pulled off armor and gear, “will be a problem, at least not for Madara and Izuna.”

“Good to hear. Now go get clean. I’ll set out your outfit and get the makeup ready.”

Tobirama huffs, “Do I have to wear that?” he grumbles.

“It’s an official meeting with your betrothed. You know what customs dictate for an omega,” she reminds him with a smirk.

“You’re just looking forward to dressing me up like a doll,” he hisses, glaring like an offended cat, and stalks off into the bathing room with a huff, ignoring Touka’s laughter.

~*~

“There, done,” Touka murmurs, stepping back and letting him turn to look into the mirror and he blinks. Except for his short hair, he would look like a proper noble omega. He glares, hating the way he looks, though part of him wonders if Madara will like it.

Touka helps him stand in his heavy, ornate kimono and slides the Senju haori over his shoulders. “All set,” she says with a wry twist to her lips. “You look pretty,” she admits fondly.

“Thanks,” he mutters, flushing. He’s never had much reason to concern himself over his looks. Looks only mattered on seduction missions and he never takes those. “I feel ridiculous,” he grumbles.

Touka huffs softly, “Wait until you have to wear the wedding attire,” she reminds him and he blanches a little at the reminder.

“Well, shall we?” the alpha female asks with a grin, offering her arm and he glares but gingerly accepts it, trying to at least look like well-bred omega and not the second strongest shinobi in the Senju Clan.

She escorts him from their rooms and out of the wing. The Lily Pagoda isn’t too far thankfully and they make good time, though it’s annoying to have to limit the length of his steps and he silently curses the restrictiveness of his kimono. He would have preferred to do this in his mission gear. At least then he would know he can fight unencumbered by meters of thick silk and embroidery.

“Look, there they are,” she murmurs for his ears only and he looks up to see three figures standing in the shade of the pagoda, watching their approach. The largest is easy to figure out as Hashirama, his brother standing at least a head taller than the other two.

Madara is staring wide eyed as they approach and for a second, he swears the man’s eyes flash red but before he can get a good look, he blinks and they’re dark once more. “Ah, Tobi, Touka, you made it,” Hashirama calls out, at a more acceptable level this time, Tobirama notes.

“Sorry for the wait, but you know, we had to make this perfect,” Touka apologizes with a smirk.

Hashirama nods and steps forward, “Uchiha Madara, may I present my younger brother, Senju Tobirama, your betrothed.” He holds out his arm and Tobirama takes it, letting Hashirama walk him the rest of the way to where Madara and Izuna are waiting.

“Uchiha-sama,” Tobirama murmurs bowing just so when greeting his future husband.

A strangled noise above him has him looking up to see Madara flushing bright red, eyes wide in shock. Izuna cackles behind his brother, “I think you broke my brother again, Senju-san,” he mutters with a wicked grin.

“I’m not broken,” he growls, turning to glare at Izuna before facing back forward. “I…I am honored to meet you, Tobirama-san,” he murmurs, bowing back. “W-would you care to walk around the garden?” he stammers out.

Tobirama looks up at him, at the sweat he can make out on his still red face and the rapid pulse he can see at his throat and tilts his head slightly, “I would like that,” he says with a faint smirk and Madara somehow flushes even more.

“I think we’re going to get on just fine,” Izuna cackles again and falls back to walk with Hashirama and Touka as their chaperones. Madara turns to glare at him with a hiss and then jerks back around to offer his arm to Tobirama who, still smirking, takes it.

“Perhaps we could discuss our preferred methods of fighting while we walk,” Tobirama offers and Madara nods quickly.

Touka leans into Hashirama as they follow from behind, “I don’t think we need to worry about him,” she mutters and Hashirama nods in agreement.

Chapter Text

For being the beginning of November, the heat of the day lingers, as if recent events have caused winter’s grip to loosen some. Though he knows that once the sun dips down, the temperatures will drop dramatically. With a glare at the world around him, Iruka skulks further along his path, angry and silently raging at anything, everything and nothing.

He’s supposed to be in class right now. There was even an important test today. He doesn’t care. What’s the point anymore? It’s not like studying hard or graduating will mean he won’t die just as easily or as quickly as his parents did, as so many others did. Why fight when there are things that can just wipe you off the face of the world without using a bit of effort.

He kicks sullenly at a small rock in his path and watches it skitter off to the side and bounce off another rock. Everything has just been too much the last few days. The orphanage that they stuck him in is too crowded, too loud, with kids constantly crying for lost family or screaming to go back to homes that no longer exist. Even class has been loud and overwhelming, most of the students seemingly getting over the devastation that transpired last month and starting to laugh and joke like Iruka’s world hasn’t shattered beyond repair.

With a growl, he kicks the same rock again, harder and it strikes some loose debris, causing some of the rubble to shift and grind, sending up dirt and dust. Iruka had run out of class just before their teacher arrived and has gone to the one place he knows no one will look for him.

The swath of destruction across the village is thick and long, the fox having destroyed so much in its rampage. Most of it has been sectioned off as off-limits, many ruined and teetering buildings posing injury hazards with the possibility of collapse. Exposed pipes and wires have also added to the chaos. It is slow going repairing what was destroyed and salvaging what they can and it will be a long while before it is even remotely fixed.

Up ahead, someone emerges from the ruins of another building further ahead and Iruka ducks down a side alley littered with bricks and clay roof tiles. Moving quietly, he slips further away and peeks around the corner of a building to see the person walk by in the uniform of someone from the survey crews. They must be checking over this area as the possible next section for demolition and rebuilding.

Sighing softly, Iruka turns away and follows the small narrow road he’s on and heads in the opposite direction. He doesn’t want to get caught again. The Sandaime had made it clear that there would be consequences if Iruka was caught sneaking into the ruins again.

Iruka tries to remember what was in this section of the village and can’t. While the roads are familiar in a vague way, any of the distinguishing land marks he used to use are gone: signs destroyed, fountains crushed and spilling water everywhere, towers fallen over and their sections scattered.

He thinks this was an older section of the village; some of the architecture he can make out of what buildings are still standing look different from other sections that are still intact. He kicks another stone and it skitters away.

Something flashes out of the corner of his eye and he turns to look, but doesn’t see anything except another alley between two buildings. Still, he’s growing bored and it would be cool to find something he’s not supposed to. Stepping off the thin road, he creeps further down the alley, glancing around for something.

He takes a step and hears a dull crack and before he can react, the stone of the alley beneath his feet gives way and with a yelp, he goes tumbling down with other rocks and building debris, feeling them smack into his arms and legs as he tucks himself into a ball and rolls down a sharp slope.

He comes to a jolting stop as he smacks into a solid bit of wall, his head smacking into the stone and lights burst before his eyes as he hisses in pain. Blinking owlishly, he looks around him. The wall at his back is part of some sort of hall, the ceiling still mostly intact except for the hole he just rolled through. He follows it to his right and finds most of the stones that fell with him and what is probably part of the ceiling, are piled in that direction and have mostly settled. He’s not going that way. Left leads to a dark tunnel.

Above, light shines down from where he fell through and he realizes quickly that it’s pretty far up there and mostly sheer stone with bits of piping and wires hanging here and there. He can make out what was once a basement of one of the buildings overhead, bits of wood and tile still hanging from the edge of the hole but he can’t make out much else.

Standing slowly, he coughs against the dust in the air that was kicked up in a cloud with the collapse and he wipes dirt from his face, his eyes watering a bit in irritation. He tests the pile of debris in front of him, hoping to find some hand and foot holds so he can climb out of here but it shifts quickly and creaks ominously and he quickly steps back, not wanting to be in the path of anything coming down should more collapse.

He considers calling for help for a few seconds, but part of him holds back, not wanting to get into trouble and having to see the Sandaime’s vindicated expression when he learns what happened. He can get out of this; he doesn’t need anyone’s help.

If there’s a tunnel down here, then there must be an exit somewhere. He eyes the dark tunnel trepidatiously and then squares his shoulders. He can do this. Coughing one last time to clear his throat, he steps to the left and follows the hall into darkness.

~*~

Strangely, it doesn’t remain dark for long. Faint light shines from the ceiling randomly, brightening a little as he passes and then going dim again afterwards. The tunnel is…well, boring. It just goes on and on, making turns so many times that he has no idea how far he’s traveled or where he might come out at and he’s not sure, but it feels like it might have gone down a few times.

Still, it’s something. He can see Kyuubi damage, even down here, cracks snaking across the walls, cutting through a few of the light symbols so that they don’t work. It also seems to have cracked some of the other strange symbols on the walls that look an awful lot like some of the seals his mother was teaching him about before…well.

Eventually, nearly ten minutes later, he sees a distant glow and speeds up, hoping that this will be the way out finally. The hall ends at a doorway that has faint blue light coming from under the gap of the door in front of him.

With a frown, he reaches for the handle and turns it, the knob moving easily but the door doesn’t budge. Looking at it closer, he realizes why. The frame is slightly off kilter, the stone having shifted ever so slightly from the Kyuubi’s damage and the door is stuck.

Annoyed and not ready to give up just yet, he looks at the door to see that it pushes inward and presses his shoulder against it. Feet scrabbling against the smooth stone floor, he manages to get some leverage to push the door. It shifts slowly, in increments, scooting with little skidding sounds as the wood rubs against stone. Eventually, Iruka is left panting but with a gap wide enough for him to slip his thin frame through it before him, more blue light spilling into the hall.

With a grin of triumph, he shimmies through, the corner of the door scrapping at his chest a little but he gets through and soon stumbles out on the other side to see…light, lines of light: swirling, dancing, twisting across the walls, ceiling and floor of the room. Everywhere he looks it’s just lines of light.

Iruka gasps in shock, eyes wide at the beauty of what he’s seeing. It’s breathtaking and he stands there for a few minutes just following the lines, trying to find a start or an end to them. Finally, he realizes that he’s been standing there for a while and actually looks around the room. It’s a dead end, no other doors, as far as he can see, let out of the room, just four walls, a ceiling and a floor glowing with light. Sighing in frustration, he scratches at his head and looks closer at the lines.

They look like a seal…but like no seal he has ever seen…which isn’t a lot but even the ones he has seen were never this big or this complicated. But there is a pattern, he quickly notices, eyes unfocusing for a moment to see the pattern of lines knotting and twisting at regular intervals around the room.

Each wall has an even larger concentration of lines and knots in their centers, while the floor and ceiling have a strange bereft circle of space about three feet in diameter centered on them. He steps closer to the wall and runs a finger across one of the lines. Nothing happens to the light but his fingertip tingles faintly, that bit of him that’s been learning to recognize as his chakra reacting strangely.

This is a seal. A giant seal, but a seal nonetheless. Which means it is either designed to contain something or release something…or both, though his mother always said those were the most complicated seals to create and use. Every seal has a matrix, a center, Iruka. Find the matrix and you can learn everything you need to know about a seal, she had taught him once as she showed him a scroll of seals and he had traced along its lines with a smile.

With a frown, Iruka lets his eyes follow the lines, trying to figure out what would be the matrix for something this big and this complicated. It’s nothing like a storage sealing scroll like his mother taught him to make months before.

Eventually, he realizes that most of the lines seem to head down towards the circle on the floor. Stepping closer, he looks at it and frowns at the even more complicated mess that surrounds the outer edge of the circle.

He can’t make heads or tails of what exactly it’s supposed to do but for some reason, it looks like…well, like a storage scroll, like how all the examples of them his mother showed him had some sort of circle incorporated into the seal.

“So you’re meant to hold something,” he murmurs and scratches at his nose in thought, frowning. If it’s lit up, does that mean it’s storing something? And if it is holding something, what would that be? Something this big and complicated can’t be anything simple like a sword or some shinobi gear.

But he’s stuck here and curious and honestly, he has poor impulse control. Maybe it’s something that can help him get out of here. Recalling how to release a storage seal, he steps forward slowly until he’s next to the circle, making sure nothing gets trigger by accident. Midora-sensei is constantly reminding them to always check for traps, even if it looks clear so he steps gently.

But nothing goes off and he’s right next to the circle but not in it, since that is where whatever it is holding will appear more than likely. Slowly, he presses his hands against the concentration of glowing lines there.

The light lines his fingers, back lighting them and he feels the tingling again, stronger than before. Supposedly, to unseal a scroll, you simply need to push a small amount of chakra into it to break the loop of chakra holding the item in the seal, disrupting it. Taking a deep breath, he feels for his chakra and slowly pushes it out of his hands.

He feels a drain on his chakra, like warmth leaving his hands after touching something cold for an extended time and then the air explodes with smoke and he yelps, tumbling back and scurrying away to the wall behind him as the smoke billows out and covers the whole room.

The light of the lines dims but doesn’t go out completely and the sound of something shuffling can be heard in the silence. The smoke quickly dissipates and he can finally see the figure in the center of the seal.

Tall and lean, with pale skin and white hair, the light of the seal gleams off of a battered happuri face guard. His armor is battered and scarred as well from fighting, a strange looking sword belted at his waist, a leg holsters wrapped around one thigh and a heavy pouch rests against his lower back.

Pale lids blink open and then Iruka meeps as red eyes flick his way, eyes wide in nervousness. Pale brows furrow and the head tilts ever so slightly. “Who are you?” he demands, turning to face Iruka.

“Ah…um…I-Iruka, Umino Iruka,” he stutters out, heart beating quickly. In all the things he thought might be contained in the seal, a person was not one of them. “W-who are you?” he demands back.

A pale brow arches, “Senju Tobirama.”

“Why were you in that seal?” he asks, mind trying to recall why he knows that name but his thoughts are going in circles and he’s struggling to make anything connect.

Tobirama looks down, “It is a creation of mine, a means of teleportation and healing should I be grievously hurt in battle. It was supposed to release once my vitals were strong enough to survive unaided but it seems something went awry with my calculations and it required an external source to supply the necessary commands and chakra to release me.”

Iruka blinks owlishly at him, going back over his words, “So you needed me to unseal you…like a storage sealing scroll,” Iruka pipes up, some of his nervousness dissipating.

Tobirama nods, “Precisely. It is where I drew my inspiration from, actually.”

“So why didn’t it let you out?” Iruka asks curiously.

“I do not know, but it shouldn’t be too hard to experiment with it and see where I went wrong,” Tobirama says and looks closer at Iruka, “You have some understanding of seals then?” he asks.

“Just what my mother started to teach me before…,” he looks away with a frown and grits his teeth, trying not to cry.

“My condolences,” Tobirama murmurs. “You are still a student then?” he asks, stepping outside of the circle and closer to Iruka.

Iruka nods and then frowns, “I skipped today,” he admits.

“An education is too important to lack discipline,” Tobirama remarks. Iruka shrugs but flushes a little in shame. He sounds a little like the Sandaime and his teachers.

“Yeah, well, I’ll go back tomorrow,” he grumbles and glances up to see a faint lift to Tobirama’s lips in a smile before it disappears in a frown.

“Iruka, how did you get down here? My wards should have prevented anyone from getting in,” he asks.

“Hmm, I feel down a hole,” he says with a sheepish grin.

“What hole?” he asks red eyes serious.

Iruka shrugs, “I don’t know anything about wards, but I fell through a hole in the ceiling. It was a pretty deep hole too,” he mutters, pushing up off the ground. “The Kyuubi did a lot of damage to this area. Maybe it broke your wards?” he offers.

Tobirama stiffens at his words, “Kyuubi?” he asks.

“Y-yeah, it attacked last month. It appeared in the middle of the village and went on a rampage. The Yondaime sealed it but he died doing so,” Iruka explains in bewilderment of this man’s ignorance of the Kyuubi attack. How long was he stuck in that seal?

Tobirama steps closer in a blur, hand reaching out to grip his arm and he orders, “Do not panic,” and then there’s a sudden lurching motion, a feeling like pressure against his skin and then it stops abruptly. Iruka stumbles, only Tobirama’s hand on his arm keeping him standing as he quickly regains his feet.

“What was that?” Iruka asks in exhilaration.

“My Hiraishin,” Tobirama says distractedly and Iruka looks up to see him staring out at something and then he realizes that it’s light out and they’re no longer in that underground room. He looks the way Tobirama is looking and realizes they’re up on the monument, on the Shodaime’s head to be exact. From up here, the damage is easier to see as a whole and it’s…depressing.

He looks back at Tobirama and sees his eyes are closed. “Still alive,” he mutters and Iruka doesn’t think he’s supposed to have heard that. Tobirama’s eyes snap open and he looks down at Iruka. “You will come with me. I must speak with the Sarutobi Hiruzen and it will be easier to explain this to him with you there,” he states simply and Iruka nods agreeably and sighs inwardly because he’s going to be in so much trouble.

As they make their way down the Hokage Monument, he looks up and frowns as he looks at the second face carved into the stone. He glances towards Tobirama and back and realizes why he recognized the man’s name: this is Senju Tobirama, the Nidaime.

~*~

Hiruzen is exhausted. It’s been just over a month since the Kyuubi’s attack and his return to office. His desk is piled with so much paperwork, most of it dealing with repairs to the village, evaluation of areas yet to be demolished and demands from families and clans whose homes and lands were in the path of the Kyuubi’s rampage, wanting to be allowed into their homes to reclaim their possessions.

He’s got such a headache and could really go for a stiff drink right now.

In the corner of the room, Naruto murmurs in his sleep, asleep in a small crib and for once not crying to be fed or changed. He is far too old to be caring for an infant and with his duties as Hokage on top of it…he’d love nothing more than to call it quits and just leave this mess to someone else.

But he has a duty first and foremost to the people under his protection and he will do it, not matter how tired he is. A faint knock at his door as him sighing inwardly and he calls out, “Enter,” to whoever is at his door.

It opens and he sees Umeda, one of his assistants, opening the door. Her face is pale and her eyes wide. His heart picks up in fear that something has happened. “What is it?” he demands.

“I…someone to see you, Sandaime-sama,” she murmurs and opens the door further and in walks a ghost.

Senju Tobirama, his teacher, the Nidaime and one of the founders of this village, steps in, red eyes taking in everything in a quick glance. “You got old, Saru,” he jokes softly, though his face for the most part remains neutral.

“Wha-…Tobirama-sensei?” he gets out, slumping back against his chair. Part of him wants to shout ‘kai!’ in the hopes that it will dispel this illusion before him.

“Yes,” he says with a nod.

“How is this possible?” he asks. The last time he saw this man, it was nearing the end of the First War and he’d been ordered to leave as the newly appointed Sandaime. He’s in the same armor as that time, Raijin belted at his waist. That alone proves that this is more than likely Senju Tobirama as the man’s body was never recovered, Raijin with him.

“A mix of teleportation seals, iryo jutsus and storage seals. I should have been released once I was stable but my design was flawed and instead, I remained contained by the seal until someone came along and unsealed me,” he states briskly and then reaches back to tug a shorter form forward by the shoulder.

Hiruzen stares at the sheepish face of Umino Iruka, the boy not wanting to meet his eyes. “Iruka-san here released me from my seal, though, after he fell through a hole in the ceiling of my labs,” he adds.

“You did?” Hiruzen asks the boy and he nods slowly, peeking up at him.

“We have much to talk about, Hiruzen, like why did the Kyuubi attack?” Tobirama demands.

Hiruzen sighs and rubs his eyes as his exhaustion presses down harder on him. “It’s a long story sensei. Much has happened in the decades since you disappeared,” he explains. “Iruka-kun, please step outside. Don’t go far. We’ll discuss your punishment for disobeying my orders once I am done speaking with Tobirama-sensei,” he adds and Iruka lets out a world weary sigh before slipping out of the room and shutting the door.

“You plan to punish him?” Tobirama asks with an arched brow.

Hiruzen smiles faintly, “No, but it will give him something to stew over while we talk,” he says and Tobirama smiles faintly at his student. “Please sit, sensei. This might take a bit,” he admits and Tobirama settles across from him as he begins to explain the last handful of decades.

Chapter Text

“Hokage-sama, you wanted to see me,” Iruka says on the open path that cuts around the Sarutobi main house and into its lush gardens. Hiruzen sits on the engawa at the rear of the house, pipe in hand as he smokes from it lazily, a tray with a tea set is next to him set up for two.

“Ah, Iruka-kun, thank you for coming on so quickly. Come, sit with me a while,” he murmurs with a kind smile and Iruka smiles back, walking over to settle next to him.

“Shall I pour?” Iruka asks, motioning towards the tea.

“Please,” Hiruzen agrees and Iruka busies himself with pouring the tea, mind churning away with thoughts on why the Hokage needed to speak with him. His easy demeanor and offering of tea means it’s not necessarily bad but that still leaves a lot of room for so many things.

“I can hear you overthinking,” Hiruzen murmurs kindly with a soft huff of laughter and Iruka flushes.

“Sorry, Hokage-sama,” he stammers out, handing over his cup before taking his own and turning forward to look out over the gardens and fiddle with the tea cup, though he doesn’t take a sip just yet.

“It’s quite alright, my boy. I’m sure this is a bit of a deviation from our usual meetings,” Hiruzen nods, sipping quietly from his tea before he continues. “How has your class been doing? It’s nearly time for graduation,” he asks.

“Good, Hokage-sama. We’ve got a quite a few promising students this year,” Iruka assures him with a smile.

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad they have such a dedicated teacher looking out for them,” Hiruzen acknowledges.

“I don’t wish to be rude, but is that all this meeting is about?” Iruka asks cautiously.

Taking a drag on his pipe, Hiruzen lets it out slowly on a sigh but chuckles. “Always eager for answers,” he murmurs, turning an indulgent eye on Iruka and Iruka huffs softly as well. “A matter has come up that you might be able to help with,” Hiruzen admits, setting his cup down and turning his full attention on Iruka.

“Something I can help with?” Iruka asks with a quirked eyebrow.

Hiruzen nods. “You are aware of the ongoing negotiations between Konoha and Ame,” he states.

“Yes. Their delegation spent some time at the Academy. I talked with a few of them on different teaching approaches and structured lesson plans,” Iruka says with a nod.

“Indeed, they were quite impressed by our Academy and our teachers,” he praises and Iruka smiles at his words. “The Amekage, Yahiko and I have been working tirelessly to iron out and finish the treaty between our villages, especially with how tensions with Kumo and Iwa have been building. Having a solid alliance with them will insure allies for us should either choose to instigate a war and it will give Ame resources and allies to help their people if fighting does break out. Too many wars have been fought on their land,” Hiruzen explains.

“I hope it will be finalized soon then, if it’s getting that bad,” Iruka murmurs.

“Indeed. However, the Amekage has proposed an addendum to the treaty, in the hopes of bridging our two villages. An addendum I’m not opposed to,” Hiruzen explains.

“What would this addendum be?” Iruka asks, not getting where the Hokage is going with this.

“A marriage alliance,” Hiruzen explains. “Many past alliances have been sealed with marriages to ensure both sides are invested,” he adds.

“I…that sounds…um, reasonable, but…I don’t understand how I can help with this,” Iruka stammers out haltingly.

“Yahiko has requested a marriage between one of his choosing from Ame and one of mine,” Hiruzen explains simply.

“Me?” Iruka gets out weakly, eyes wide in shock. “But…I…a marriage alliance of this scale requires a connection with someone of influence to the village. I’m just…me,” he exclaims in a bewildered voice.

“You are just as important as any other shinobi in this village. Your devotion to the children of the village and your care for them has not gone unnoticed, by me or by the Ame delegation. Yahiko has already said he would approve your selection, if you agree to it,” Hiruzen says.

Iruka can feel a flush spreading across his face. “Um…thank you…I think,” he stammers out, rubbing the back of his head. “Am…am I allowed to know who…who the Amekage chose?” he asks.

Hiruzen nods, “Uzumaki Nagato, his second in command has offered himself. You actually met him probably. He was part of the delegation,” Hiruzen informs. At Iruka’s frown, he adds, “The one with red hair and purple eyes.”

“Oh,” Iruka says, remember seeing him, though he never actually talked with him. “Will the treaty fall through should I refuse?” he asks the most pressing question.

Hiruzen shakes his head, “No. Yahiko was quite specific that your decision or whoever I choose afterwards, will not affect the treaty overall. This marriage is to be a bridge between the villages and be one of mutual agreement as both members will be acting as representatives of our respective villages, travelling back and forth from one to the other.”

“That’s…that’s a lot of responsibility,” Iruka says softly, uncertainly. “Would…would it be possible to meet with him…with Nagato-san before I make a decision? I not even spoken with him,” he asks.

“Of course, in fact he will be in the village in a few weeks with the next revision of the treaty and I’m sure we can arrange a proper meeting then,” Hiruzen says with a knowing smile and Iruka flushes harder.

“Yahiko was also willing to compromise with us, should the marriage go through. So the wedding itself will take place here but they have asked we follow their traditions,” Hiruzen explains.

“What kind of traditions?” Iruka asks, dreading what might be asked of him if he agrees with this.

“Ame is a war torn country and has clutched tight to its traditions to preserve any sense of identity as they recovered and while Konoha hasn’t practiced marriage hunts in a few decades, it is still perfectly legal to call one and I approved it,” Hiruzen says calmly.

“A…a marriage hunt?” Iruka squawks out. He’s read about them, taught about them in their history lessons. They were prominent during the Warring Clans Era as a means to secure alliances, especially between shinobi clans. The last recorded hunt was fifteen years ago amongst the Inuzuka Clan, between Inuzuka Tsume and her husband.

“Wil this be a problem?” Hiruzen asks.

“N-no, I don’t think so. I just need to wrap my head around it,” he admits.

“Of course,” Hiruzen agrees with a smile. “Take your time. I’ll send word when the meeting has been arranged.”

“Thank you,” Iruka murmurs and stumbles away, mind reeling with the implications of what he is thinking of agreeing to. He doesn’t hear Hiruzen’s soft chuckle from behind him.

~*~

Iruka shifts uncertainly as he sits across from one Uzumaki Nagato. He can feel his gaze on him, purple gaze intense, but he’s not sure what to say. Asuma had shown up at his apartment this morning with formal wear bearing the Umino crest and the Sarutobi crest on it as well, a sign of him being a ward of the clan and had promptly shoved him into the shower with a loud reminder to wash everywhere.

Now, clean and dressed in clothing he feels entirely uncomfortable in, he’s finally meeting the second in command of Amegakure, a man Iruka has heard stories about and realizes how weak he is in comparison. He swallows nervously and shifts again.

“Sandaime-sama informs me you have been helping to care for my cousin,” Nagato finally speaks up and Iruka twitches faintly.

Looking up, he sees those same bright eyes staring at him and it takes a moment to parse his words, “Oh, Naruto is your cousin?” he asks grasping onto a topic he can work with.

Nagato shrugs, “Distantly, though I’m not sure of the actual lineage. My mother was killed in the Second War and our clan has mostly been wiped out since Uzushio’s fall. I am glad to know someone is keeping an eye on him,” he says with a faint smile.

Iruka flushes, scratching at his scar at little, “I try at least. He’s certainly…energetic but he’s a good boy at heart and I try to drill what knowledge into his head I can. He wants to be Hokage one day,” he admits with a chuckle.

“An admirable dream,” he agrees with a soft laugh and it lessens the severe lines of his face and Iruka flushes again. “Do you have a dream?” Nagato asks.

Iruka shrugs, “Not…not really, or it’s more that I like what I do now. I know some shinobi look down on us village bound chuunin, but I like teaching and helping young shinobi find their nindo and their path. It’s not an easy job but it is very fulfilling.”

“I am glad to hear,” he says, face going a little distant. “It has been a struggle to rebuild Ame after Hanzō’s reign and I fear our children suffered the most because of it. We are a village of orphans. Many of our shinobi and civilians lost family in the Second and Third Wars. It took us time to convince them that allying with Konoha was for the good, especially since Konoha was involved in both wars. That it would protect our home in the long term. One country…one person, cannot hold out against the world. Everyone needs someone to lean on, even if only the once,” Nagato says and his gaze holds Iruka’s.

Iruka looks down, understanding what he’s saying, “I lost my parents to the Kyuubi when it attacked. For a long time, I was…angry at the world. Everyone was moving on but I just…couldn’t. Sandaime-sama is the only reason I could. He helped me find some closure in their deaths and it was his guiding hand that helped me reach this point in my life. If he hadn’t taken me in as his ward, I don’t know what I might have become instead. I like to think I would still have found my way here eventually,” he admits with a wry chuckle.

“Yahiko, Konan and I were very much the same as you. Angry orphans screaming at the world. It wasn’t until Jiraiya-sensei stopped and actually saw us, helped and taught us that we began to realize that if we wanted to change things, we would have to do it ourselves,” he admits with a hard look, gaze staring out at the garden they are sitting near.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, both caught up in past memories, before Iruka finally stirs. “I still have a hard time seeing why you would want me?” he admits with a faint shrug, not looking up from his hands as they fidget with his obi. “I mean, I’m just a teacher, a village bound chuunin. I figured you want someone…well, stronger,” he admits.

Heavy silence heralds his words and he fidgets uncomfortably. Finally, Nagato sighs softly and shifts a little and for a second, Iruka thinks he’s getting up to leave but when he glances up, the man is simply pouring tea for them. “How much do you know of me, Umino-san?” he finally asks.

Iruka stares a moment before answering truthfully, “Not much,” he admits. “I know you are Second in Command of Amegakure, that you were one of the original founders of Akatsuki and that you’re strong, though much of that is just from hearing the stories people tell,” he says.

“You have seen my eyes then, the pattern in them?” he says, looking up and Iruka nods, seeing the rings around the pupils. “They are a rare form of Doujutsu: the Rinnegan. I was born with them, though it was only after I met Jiraiya-sensei that they manifested. I have struggled to master the abilities they give me for many years. My life has been filled with war and fighting, struggling and survival. My eyes have seen much in my life,” he goes on and Iruka nods, not sure what to say to that.

“One of the many things they can see is connections,” he says. “When someone impacts your life, big or small, it leaves a mark, a connection that will remain, no matter how much time passes or how much distance comes between you. Some people have a few connections, others a lot. When I looked at you the first time when we visited the Academy, you nearly glowed with connections,” he says with a faint smile.

“What?” Iruka asks, shocked by his words.

“Every child you have taught that you had an impact on, big or small, formed a connection. I could trace many of them to the children in your class that day, including my young cousin. Anyone can teach, but to care and be willing to form those connections with your students, not many can do that. It takes someone with a big heart and a fearless soul to be willing to bear themselves to the world and not flinch from the pain it gives back,” he says with a serious expression. “We shinobi are taught to hide our emotions so they can’t be used against us. It is refreshing to see someone who defies those expectations and wears them proudly.”

“Oh,” Iruka says and his face feels hot with how hard he is blushing.

“After that, I asked Yahiko if he could arrange it so I could at least meet with you like this,” he admits and Iruka can see a faint flush on his cheeks and stares. “It was…a bit shocking to them to say the least. I believe they thoroughly checked me for genjutsus before they would believe me,” he says with a chuckle and Iruka can’t help but laugh as well.

“I don’t want to pressure you, Umino-san, but I would like to at least get to know you,” Nagato says seriously.

“Iruka, please,” Iruka says, still flushed but smiling gently and Nagato nods before his gaze flicks up.

“We have a visitor,” he says and before Iruka can ask who, a blonde head peaks over the edge of the engawa covering.

“Iruka-sensei, there you are,” Naruto says loudly. Flipping over the edge, he lands with a grunt and then turns around, “What are you doing here with this guy and why are you dressed so weird?” he asks rapid fire.

“Why aren’t you in class?” Iruka says, sighing loudly.

“It’s over and Daikoku-sensei said you were in the middle of something but he wouldn’t say what so I went looking for you. You promised me ramen if I did good on my test and I did so I want ramen,” he demands.

“Naruto, as you can see, I’m in the middle of something,” Iruka says lowly, glaring. “I’m sorry, Nagato-san,” he apologizes. “I’ll take you for ramen later.”

“But Iruka-sensei,” he whines and Iruka flushes as Nagato chuckles next to him.

Naruto’s eyes narrow, taking in the whole set up of the room and then frowns, “Who is this wierdo anyways?” he asks with a glare.

“Naruto,” Iruka sighs, running a hand down his face in frustration. “This is Uzumaki Nagato,” he explains with a look but Naruto seems to freeze at the word ‘Uzumaki.’

“What?” he says with wide eyes. “He has my name,” he says, looking at Iruka.

“He does. He is a distant cousin of yours,” Iruka says calmly, but feels a small smile creep up on his lips as Naruto seems to take in the fact that cousin, no matter how distantly, means family.

“Really?” he asks softly, almost hesitantly.

“Yes,” Nagato says with a nod. “My mother was Uzumaki Fūso and she was originally from Uzushiogakure, before it fell. That is where the Uzumaki clan originated,” Nagato explains. “If you would like, I can tell you some of the stories she told me of it,” he offers and Naruto nods eagerly, scrambling up onto the engawa though he pauses at Iruka’s glare and pulls his sandals off before stepping onto the tatami.

“I’m sorry about this,” he says softly as Naruto’s in the middle of pulling his sandals off.

Nagato shakes his head, “I have looked forward to speaking with him. It’s not every day that one finds lost family Iruka-san,” he says with a sincere smile and Iruka flushes as he realizes how handsome Nagato looks when he smiles like that.

“So why are you meeting with Iruka-sensei?” Naruto asks and Iruka groans softly, not wanting to explain what this meeting is about and Nagato laughs softly.

~*~

Iruka hears the creak of a branch and quickly redirects off the tree next to him, feeling the rush of air as a heavy body hurtles passed where he just was and grins before taking to the trees once more. Nagato may be stronger than him, but he doesn’t know Konoha’s forests quite like Iruka does and he uses it to his advantage, quickly putting a handful of trees between him and his hunter.

Iruka’s not stupid. If Nagato had wanted to, this hunt would have been over in seconds, the man far stronger and faster than Iruka could ever hope to match. A life spent in war forced Nagato to become who he is. But that’s not what this marriage hunt is about. It’s a game of cat and mouse, of playing and showing off and trust, to show your prospective partner that you will be a good fit in the clan or in this case, the village.

So Iruka does just that, pulling off tricks and moves he hasn’t done since his time pranking the village and avoiding being captured for punishment. It’s thrilling, exhilarating and he can’t help but laugh as he times his jump back at the last second to arc over Nagato’s reaching hand before falling to the ground below, using branches to slow his fall before taking off again.

He hears Nagato laughing from above as he lands and rushes away only for the world to jerk sideways as he tumbles and grapples with the body grasping at him until he lands on his back, wrists pinned above his head as a panting Nagato stares down at him. “Do you yield?” he breaths out.

“I don’t know, should I?” Iruka asks with a laugh and Nagato’s eyes narrow a little.

Nagato leans down and says softly into his ear, “I could try to convince you, but I would prefer a bed for that.” Iruka flushes as he pulls back and Nagato arches a brow down at him.

“I yield,” Iruka breathes out and Nagato grins, bending down to press a light kiss against his lips.

He pushes up and offers a hand to Iruka, pulling him in close when Iruka takes it. “I say this before the gods that I have claimed you in a fair hunt.”

“I have been caught for all the gods to see and accept it fully,” Iruka recites the ritual words taught to him just that morning, flushing brighter at the implications of those words and what will come after.

Nagato smiles softly, “You are very good. I’m surprised you haven’t tried to go for jounin. With some training, you could,” he says, tucking Iruka under his arm.

Iruka shrugs, side warm and tingling at so much contact. “It has been pointed out to me that I lack what is needed to be a jounin,” Iruka says, recalling that disaster of a mission with Kakashi.

“Something I should look into?” Nagato asks softly.

Iruka shakes his head, “No, it was something I needed to learn though it still stings a bit. Not everyone is meant for that kind of life. I went into teaching instead and I never looked back,” he admits with a wry smile.

Up ahead, they can see the gathered crowd for the hunt and Iruka flushes at the good natured ribbing from Asuma and his friends. Nagato is drawn into a quiet talk with Yahiko and Konan, here for the signing of the treaty and the marriage tomorrow. Hiruzen smiles proudly at him as Naruto comes running up to hug him, asking excitedly what happened.

~*~

Iruka fidgets awkwardly in his wedding finery. The wedding would start in a bit but the Amekage Yahiko and Konan had asked for a private meeting with him and now they’re seated across from each other, silently staring at him as the seconds tick by.

“It’s an honor to meet you two,” he says uneasily, bowing slightly to them.

“Thank you,” Konan says softly, expression closed off.

“What are your intentions to Nagato?” Yahiko asks suddenly and Iruka gulps at the faint edge of killing intent behind his words.

“Wha–,” Iruka starts before the shoji behind him slams open and Nagato stalks in.

“No, we are not doing this,” he hisses, glaring at them and Iruka looks back at Yahiko and Konan both grinning in amusement at Nagato who is flushing.

“But Nagato, you’re family. We just want to make sure he won’t hurt you,” Yahiko says.

“No,” Nagato says and pulls Iruka up abruptly to his feet. “No,” he says once more for emphasis with a glare and proceeds to drag Iruka from the room.

“Welcome to the family, Iruka-san,” Yahiko calls out as Nagato slams the shoji behind him and Iruka feels a relieved giggle escape and then he’s full on laughing.

“Oh my…that…” he laughs harder and Nagato chuckles next to him.

“Sorry about them. They’re a little protective of me,” he says and Iruka grins.

“Just be glad Asuma and the Sandaime didn’t corner you like that,” he sighs out and when Nagato looks away uncomfortably he stops, pulling Nagato to a stop as well. “They didn’t,” he says softly and Nagato shrugs.

“They care a lot for you,” he admits.

“I’m going to yell at them now,” Iruka says, flushing in embarrassment, and starts to march to where they will be standing for the wedding.

“No…no, it’s okay,” Nagato says with a laugh and pulls him back. “I didn’t mind. I’m glad someone cared enough to question me.”

“I’m sorry,” Iruka sighs, rubbing his hand across his face in embarrassment.

“Don’t be,” Nagato says with a smile, pulling his hand away gently and kissed it, making Iruka flush bright red. A bell rings out and they look towards direction it came from. “We have a wedding to get to,” he adds and Iruka flushes but smiles, accepting his arm as they head towards the temple.

Chapter Text

A knock at the door to his office has him looking up sharply to see Umeda standing in the door looking a little uncertain. “Ah, Nidaime-sama, it’s…ah, it’s seven,” she says a little uncertainly.

He had hoped that the novelty and uncertainty his return had on a lot of the shinobi would have worn off by now but after nearly a year, many still regarded him like he was about tear into them. It seems his reputation had not fared well in the ensuing decades, not that he cared what others thought about him so long as they performed their job adequately.

Frowning, he glances at the window to see the sun is mostly down. “I asked to be informed when it was six,” he reminds her.

“I…yes, but when I came by earlier, you were so busy with everything, I didn’t think you wanted to be disturbed,” she says

“From now on, when I give an order, I expect it to be followed to the letter, even if it disturbs my work,” he says evenly and she flushes and nods before bowing and retreating from his office door. Sighing internally, he quickly goes about gathering his work, organizing it into what would remain here and what he would take home, sealing them away in their respective scrolls before locking the one to remain here in his desk and activating the wards on the drawer.

Standing quickly, he casts a quick glance around his office for anything out of place and then closes his eyes, checking over the village mentally. Nothing stands out: no bursts of chakra indicating fighting except in a few spots he knows are training grounds. No heightened emotions or sudden movement out of fear. There are no enemy chakra signatures within hours of the walls and what chakra he can feel there is the movement of patrols and a lone shinobi returning from a mission, a chuunin by the feel of their chakra.

Sighing, he nods good night to the two ANBU in the room, signing for them that he is leaving and then triggers his Hiraishin. Just inside the walls, he looks around what had once been his home and was now once more his haven. The number of buildings has shrunk over the years as the clan dwindled or moved out.

When he had first returned, the grounds had been in a sorry state, the main house in need of much repair. It seems in the time between his ‘death’ and ‘revival’, the Senju had dwindled into a shadow of the once great clan he was raised in. Between three wars and the dangers of a shinobis life, many lives were lost. As far as he is aware, Tsunade is one of the few of his clan left that still carries the name Senju, though a few elders and distant cousins also bare the name though not to the renown his grandniece carries it.

The lights are on in the main house and he walks briskly towards it, toeing off his sandals as he steps inside. “I have returned,” he calls out and walks further into the house. “I’ll start dinner shortly,” he adds and then walks into the kitchen to see Iruka already there, scrubbing a pot with a glare at something that looks burned on.

He looks up as Tobirama walks in, “Oh, welcome back. Um…I already did dinner…or well, I tried,” he admits with a frown at the pot. “I saved you some in the stove since I figured you were running late,” he says with a flush.

Tobirama smiles faintly, “Thank you, that was most helpful and I will eat it in a minute. Let me just put my things down,” he says and Iruka nods, going back to his scrubbing. He heads towards his room and stops by Naruto’s room. The child is asleep, curled up in his crib and breathing the sleep of contentment.

Tobirama steps silently into the room and looks down at him. He looks a lot like the pictures of his father and mother Tobirama has seen. Already he has started showing awareness and curiosity of the world for such a young child, not even a year old yet. Part of him wonders if that is genetics or is his enhanced development is due to the Kyuubi sealed within such a tiny body.

He steps out and makes for his room, depositing his things into another desk drawer and wards them as well before stripping out of his gear and letting himself relax now that he is home. Iruka is muttering at the pot as he steps into the room and he steps silently closer to see the damage.

“It would be more effective if you let it soak,” he advises and Iruka yelps in surprise, Tobirama catching him before he topples over. “And it would be wise to pay more attention to your surroundings,” he adds.

“I’m going to put a bell on you,” Iruka mutters, flushing in embarrassment, but nods and reaches for the faucet to turn the water on and fills up the pot to let it soak for a while.

As he does this, Tobirama retrieves his meal from the oven, still warm and nods in thanks, settling at the kotatsu to begin eating quickly. He listens to Iruka go about finishing up the rest of the dishes and contemplates the meal. A marked improvement from his first attempt at cooking. An experiment that resulted in a fire and a need to replace the warped and melted pot he had been using.

“You have improved,” he says, setting his chopsticks aside and Iruka laughs faintly, scratching the back of his head.

“Still not as good as yours,” he confesses.

“In time, practice will improve your skill,” Tobirama says with a nod. “Was there any trouble with Naruto?” he asks.

“No, he ate his dinner, though he apparently realized he can throw things so I got to practice my evasion. I gave him a bath afterwards and he went right to sleep,” he says easily, accepting Tobirama’s dishes to be cleaned.

“And your homework?” he asks.

“I finished most of it before I cooked dinner,” he says.

“Very good. Finish what is left and then make for bed,” Tobirama instructs with a nod and a faint smile.

“Are you staying up late again?” Iruka asks.

“For a bit, but hopefully, not too long,” he informs him. “I will be in my study if you need something,” he adds and Iruka nods before turning back to the sink.

Patting him gently on the head as he passes by, Tobirama steps out of the kitchen to head for his study to pull out his work and lets the soft sounds of the house settle over him. Unconsciously, he follows Iruka’s movements as he finished cleaning up the kitchen. He stops briefly in Naruto’s room to check on him, before heading to his own room. Boredom and annoyance is the most prominent emotions he can feel from the boy as he finishes up his homework. Soon after, he hears the sound of running water and knows he’s gone to shower for the night.

Sometime later, the faint sound of his shoji sliding open meets his ears and he continues working, listening to the soft footfalls and softer breathing. “It is foolish to attempt to sneak up on me,” he says just before Iruka reaches him and he smirks at the startled yelp.

“I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you,” Iruka lies.

Tobirama glances up at him and the boy fidgets before sighing, “Alright I was trying to sneak up on you. But you cheated with your sensing,” he says with a small grin.

“I did not sense you, I heard you. You will need to practice more on your stealth if you wish to sneak by me,” he says easily and Iruka huffs in frustration. “Now, you should be in bed. It is late.”

“I know, I just…,” he holds out a small box of dango, “I thought you would want something to snack on while you work. They’re store bought, but they’re good,” he says awkwardly.

Tobirama smiles faintly, eyes softening and takes the box, “Thank you for your consideration,” he says and Iruka flushes with happiness. “Perhaps we should share,” he offers and pats the floor near him and Iruka sits.

“Your exams are coming up, are they not?” he asks, though he already knows the answer.

Iruka hums, “Next month,” he says after swallowing a mouthful. “I’m excited,” he grins.

“You will do well,” he agrees, already aware of the boy’s abilities and having helped him here and there to polish up where he lacked.

Iruka grows silent, fidgeting with the stick the dango came on before asking, “Are you happy here?”

Tobirama arches a brow, caught off guard by his question. “Explain,” he says simply.

Iruka shrugs a little, “I was just thinking that…well, you’re all alone really. Most everyone you know is gone and it must be hard,” he finishes quietly.

“Are you lonely?” he asks softly, studying the brunette.

Iruka shrugs again, still not looking up. “Sometimes,” he admits. “I miss them a lot, you know. You must miss your brother and clan too,” he says finally looking up.

Tobirama nods gravely, “Every day,” he admits. “Loss is not something that ever truly goes away. But it does gets…easier. Remembering the good times with them helps.”

“Will you tell me about them…your brother and clan?” he asks.

Tobirama smiles, “Perhaps later. It is time for bed,” he says and Iruka sighs but nods, standing to head for the door. “Good night, Iruka-kun.”

“Night,” he says with a smile and shuts the shoji behind him. He senses silently as Iruka makes his way to his room, stopping one last time in Naruto’s room to check on him before heading to bed. It doesn’t take long for him to find sleep, the flow of his chakra easing into the calmness of slumber.

Tobirama stands and makes his way silently towards the corner of his study where a small shrine has been set up with far too many pictures and names on it. Silently, he lights the incense kept there and stares at them, eyes tracing the characters of each name, the pictures of people long dead. Sighing softly, he pulls himself away and goes back to his work.

Chapter Text

Kakashi hisses in annoyance, ducking behind a wall as shots ring out, loud and whining. The blasts light up the dark street and he can track their trajectory in their reflections off of glass and metal. Obito hefts his own pistol, his normally dark eye glowing red in the shadows. “Why did you pick this way of all ways to go, Bakashi?” he snaps and leans out to fire a few shots before pulling back.

“It was the quickest way through. How was I supposed to know Kaguya’s goons would be staked out waiting?” he grumbles and leans out, firing a few wide shots as he searches for a way out.

“Boys, stop fighting and figure out another route,” Rin snaps over their communicators.

“Easier said than done,” Obito huffs, leaning out again to shot. Kakashi sees it too late, the blast coming in fast and before he can shout, it catches Obito in the shoulder and knocks the dark haired man back.

“Fuck Rin, we need an escape route now,” Kakashi growls, rushing over to pull Obito to his section of the alley they’re crouched in. Under his hand, he can feel the grinding of metal synthetic materials, the man’s arm nearly blown off. A few sparks jump from the robotic arm and Kakashi wonders how bad the damage is and if it can be repaired.

“Shit that hurts,” Obito growls with his face twisted in pain.

“Well you should have ducked,” Kakashi snaps back and leans out to fire again.

“Fuck you Bakashi,” Obito huffs out, looking paler than normal.

“Alright, there’s no way through up top but if you take a few of the side alleys, there’s an entrance to the sewers. It won’t be pretty but you can get around those goons and somewhere safe,” Rin says quickly, her voice pinched with worry.

“We might be late, Rin,” Kakashi adds, reaching out to shoot a few more times.

“Why?” Rin asks.

“Obito’s taken a hit. We’ll be slowed by that,” he says simply.

“Okay…okay, I’m uploading the fastest route to someone I know who can repair him,” she says.

“Who?” Kakashi asks.

“Best if it’s left as a surprise,” she says simply and Kakashi groans, not liking that. “Alright, take the alley your in and go all the way down until you hit a T-intersection and hang a right,” she orders.

“Okay,” Kakashi sighs and hefts Obito up onto his feet. “I’ll drag, you shot,” he orders and Obito nods grimly, good arm gripping his pistol tightly as Kakashi helps him stumble down the alley.

~*~

“Where are we?” Obito grits out thirty minutes later as they emerge, filthy and stinking to high heaven, into a rundown section of Konoha.

“Rin,” Kakashi grits out.

“Look, you need to get Obito fixed up and he’s the only one I know who will keep his mouth shut and knows what he’s doing,” Rin says without sympathy.

“Someone I should know about, Bakashi?” Obito asks cheekily.

“No,” Kakashi grits out and starts heading down a familiar path. Eventually, a familiar sign lights up the street: Umino Robotics and Repair.

The lights are on and Kakashi sighs softly before slamming his fist against the door a couple of times loudly. “Coming,” a voice calls out before the door opens and a pair of familiar eyes stare at the two of them. Dark brows pinch in a frown, “What do you want Kakashi?” Iruka snaps, not stepping out of the way.

“Iruka,” Kakashi greets with an eye smile.

“Who is it? Who is it?” a voice askes excitedly and a blonde head of hair pushes passed Iruka’s leg to look at them. “It’s Uncle Kakashi!” Naruto says excitedly.

“Uncle Kakashi?” Obito asks around a laugh.

“Not a word,” Kakashi hisses before turning back to Iruka, “Look Iruka, I’m not here for me. My friend needs some help,” he says and shifts so Obito comes into better light, the sparking of his robotic arm evidence of the damage done.

Iruka eyes him for a long drawn out moment before he sighs and steps back, “Come in. Don’t touch anything,” he warns, tugging Naruto out of their path as Kakashi helps Obito deeper into the repair shop.

“Naruto, why don’t you let Itachi know we have people here and that I might need his help,” he says and Naruto nods eagerly, rushing out of the room and up some stairs.

Kakashi lets Obito slide into a large metal chair, arms branching off of it with various tools attached. Rummaging into his tool kit, Iruka pulls on a pair of leather gloves and sets some goggles perched on his head. Grabbing the cart with his tool kit on it, he drags it over to the chair Obito is in and snags a stool to sit on. “Alright, let’s have a look,” Iruka mutters.

It takes a bit of work and a pair of scissors to cut away the shirt sleeve from around the busted arm. Iruka’s brows go up when he sees how far and how extensive the modifications go. “What the hell happened to you?” he asks, gripping the arm to manipulate it into a better position.

“I’d really rather not talk about it,” Obito grits out and Iruka nods in understanding.

Soft foot falls sound from behind them and Kakashi glances up to see a face he hasn’t seen in a while, “You needed some help?” Itachi asks, dark eyes staring at Obito in the chair.

“Hello, cousin,” Obito says cheerfully and then yelps when Iruka presses against something in his arm and it sparks wildly.

“Maybe,” Iruka mutters. “This arm is unlike anything I’ve worked on and I know you have more experience with the higher class prosthetics than I do,” Iruka says looking up. “There’s a lot of damage here. Looks like a gun blast. Half the circuits in the shoulder are either fried or melted and the joint keeps locking up.”

“Dare I ask what you were doing to get shot at?” Itachi asks, pulling out his own gloves and goggles before stepping closer to see what Iruka is pointing to.

“Nothing to be worried about,” Obito assures with a huff as Itachi presses at something.

Iruka looks over at Kakashi, “I hope you didn’t bring your troubles onto my doorstep,” he warns.

“We lost them in the sewers,” Kakashi explains.

“That would explain the smell,” Iruka mutters.

A giggle has them all looking to see two heads peeking around the corner, one blonde and one brunette. “Sasuke, Naruto, please go play upstairs,” Itachi instructs softly.

“But I wanna see,” Naruto pouts and Sasuke’s lips quivers a little.

“Brats, upstairs,” Tsunade barks, stepping around the two children. “Anything I need to look at?” she asks.

“No, looks like it’s all mechanical damage, though it’s got amazing sensory circuitry. I might steal your arm for a bit to study it,” Iruka threatens Obito.

“Please don’t I need it,” Obito whines softly.

“Quite your whining. Lots of people live without arms,” Tsunade snorts. “If you need me holler. I’ll get dinner going. Sakura, come help me and Shizune,” she calls and the two nod before going back to the task of Obito’s arm.

“Coming,” Sakura calls out and loud steps down the stairs announces the girl’s arrival as she runs into the kitchen.

“We will need to remove it temporarily,” Itachi informs him and Obito sighs. “It will make repairing it quicker if it’s not attached. If you would like, we can check the rest of your modifications as well and do a tune up?” Itachi offers.

“Ugh, fine, just take the leg too while you’re at it,” Obito grumbles, lifting his leg. With a few muttered curses on Iruka’s part when the ball joint of the shoulder sticks, they manage to get the arm off and soon after the leg, leaving Obito  in the chair.

“I’ll get started on the repairs while you check the leg,” Itachi offers and Iruka nods, carrying the appendage to his work station.

“Looking good,” Kakashi mutters and Obito flips him off.

Kakashi leaves Obito talking with his cousin as he saunters over to Iruka’s work bench to see the leg hooked up to various machines, the holoscreen before him running a diagnostic program. “So, where’s Rin?” Iruka asks, not looking away.

“Somewhere safe,” Kakashi assure.

“She better be,” he grumbles, rubbing at his eyes, worry for his cousin evident in the tension of his shoulders.

“How are things here?” Kakashi asks softly.

“Oh, you mean after you just up and disappeared one day?” Iruka snaps. “They’re fine. It only took a few months before Naruto stopped asking when you were coming back,” Iruka lays into him.

Kakashi flinches at his words, “Sorry,” he mutters.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. Naruto loved you and it broke his heart when you left. You’re all he really has left of his parents,” Iruka grits out, still refusing to look at him.

“And you?” Kakashi asks.

Iruka shrugs, “I knew from the beginning it wasn’t long term. I got over it pretty quickly.”

“Ah,” Kakashi says softly.

A light flashes on the screen, “One of your capacitors is going bad but it shouldn’t be hard to replace,” he calls out.

“Yeah, I go through them pretty regularly,” Obito calls and Iruka nods before turning back to the screen.

“So why did you leave?” Iruka finally asks after a few awkward minutes of stilted silence between them.

Kakashi sighs, “I found a lead on who killed Minato and Kushina,” he admits and Iruka whips around to stare at him. “I thought I’d be back sooner, but every new bit of information just leads deeper and deeper into something dark in this city. We’ve found stuff dating back to the founding of Konoha and its leaders,” he says with a wide eye.

“How bad?” Iruka asks grimly.

“Bad,” Kakashi admits.

“Do we need to lay low for a while after this?” he asks, eyes flicking to the ceiling where the two boys disappeared up to.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “You’ve always had Hiruzen’s protection over you after he took you in. None of the powers in this city ever messed with you, but the old man isn’t getting any younger. It might be a good idea to make plans.”

“Alright,” Iruka says with a sigh, disconnecting the wires and pressing the panel on the side of the leg to open it. He pulls out the faulty capacitor and sets it aside. Rummaging into his tool kit, he pulls out another one and slots it into place.

“Just…promise me you’ll be careful,” Iruka finally speaks up, looking up at Kakashi as he closes the panel.

“I’m always careful,” Kakashi says with a smile but nods. “Obito and Rin watch my back and I watch theirs.”

“Good, I’d hate for Naruto to lose his uncle again,” he mutters and Kakashi nods, pressing a hand to Iruka’s shoulder before stepping away.

Iruka gets up and carries the leg back to Obito. “Everything else checks out good…though, you might want to take it a little easy on the joints. I saw a lot of stress readouts from them,” he adds.

“I’ll try,” Obito mutters, hissing as the ball joint is pressed back into his hip socket.

“Move it for me,” Iruka instructs and Obito does just that. “Alright, all good.”

“This will be a while to finish,” Itachi speaks up. “I have to print new parts for some of it,” he explains.

“Well, dinners ready and we’ve got room for two more,” Tsunade says from doorway into the kitchen. “I think you boys could do with some good food.”

“Thank you,” Kakashi says with a nod, Obito smiling.

“You better bring me some later. Tsunade’s cooking is the best,” Rin says over their communicators loud enough to be heard by those in the room.

“Yes ma’am,” Obito says and takes Itachi’s hand to help stand. The kitchen is chaotic with so many people grabbing food and drinks while three kids get under foot, but it’s loud with good cheer and laughter. Iruka manages to snag Obito’s communicator from him and has a long conversation with his cousin, Naruto adding his two cents in while Itachi, Obito and Sasuke catch up as Shizune and Sakura discuss something from a book the girl has at the table. Tsunade and Kakashi are mainly off to the side watching over everyone.

“I overheard some of what you were saying to the brat,” she says softly and Kakashi eyes her quietly. “I might have something to help,” she says, green eyes sharp. “Something from my grandfather and granduncle’s time.”

“Go on,” Kakashi says.

“Have you ever come across the name Zetsu?” she asks.

Chapter Text

Obito has spent his whole life knowing he is different, strange…special. Not that there aren’t others out there who might feel similarly, but he knows this to be fact. He was raised in an orphanage, the caretakers telling him he was left there when he was just a baby. This is a lie, though they believe it all the same.

His first memory is of standing in front of the orphanage, maybe five or six years old with a man next to him. He can’t remember his name, or his face, but he remembers his voice, cold and sharp saying this is where he would live until it was time.

Obito doesn’t know what the ‘time’ would be or even when it is, but he had nodded, part of him getting it, even if he doesn’t fully understand. So he had stayed there, living, growing, learning and all the while living with what he secretly called the ‘itch.’

He doesn’t know what it is or means but it’s always been there, this feeling in the back of his mind that something was missing. As he grew, it became less an itch and more a tug, pulling faintly towards something. What that something was, he’s not sure.

The pull lessened when amongst the trees, in the wild places and protected areas of the world. He was constantly being dragged back to the orphanage from the local park, not wanting to leave because at least there, he didn’t feel like crawling out of his skin.

Still, he learned to live with it and for the most part, it became a background feeling that he indulged whenever he had the free time. He eventually left the orphanage, despite the man’s words. He was too old to stay there and he found work caring for the park to at least appease the pull.

It finally accumulates into here, on the day of his twenty-fifth birthday, the pull suddenly becoming unbearable and hurting like a blade in his heart. He rolls out of bed with a gasp and a groan and feels the tug more than ever; leading what he later realizes is east.

He does the only thing that makes sense and packs his bags, pulling what money he’s saved out of his accounts and hops a bus east, the pull easing just slightly now that he’s actually moving in that direction. It takes weeks to figure out where the pull is leading: deep into the wilder sections of the country where the spine of a mountain rears high and foreboding and thick ancient forests that civilization hasn’t penetrated, despite many attempts, lay thick around its feet.

The doors open with a creak as he stands on the stairs to disembark and he nods in thanks to the driver who eyes him like he’s crazy for getting off at this stop but he ignores the man and steps down, his pack heavy against his back.

The doors snap shut and the bus give a whining lurch as it pulls away, the engine’s roar fading as it follows the road down the mountain towards the nearest civilization hours away. Obito doesn’t notice, too caught up in the feeling of the pull blooming into warmth for the first time as he stares down at these towering and ancient trees. Even this high up on the road the trees tower over him.

A dirt road leads in the opposite direction of the pull so he ignores it, slowly making his way cautiously down the rocky slope and to the leading edge of the trees. It takes nearly half an hour to get down there and he’s sweaty and dirty but eventually he does.

The moment he steps under them, he feels…home. He can’t explain it, can’t even fully understand it, but it sits heavy in his chest like he just swallowed a warm cup of cider. Feeling better than he has in years, he follows the tug ever deeper into the trees.

He doesn’t know how far he walks or even how long. Under the sweeping canopy of the trees, time feels strange, the light muted and filtering through the leaves, casting everything in greens and browns. He’s just rounding a tree trunk wider than his apartment had been when someone appears from a different direction.

He blinks in shock, not expecting anyone else to be out here. Dark eyes and hair, pale skin, he stares back, looking just as shocked. “Who are you?” Obito asks, more curious than afraid. Something about this meeting feels…right.

The man cocks his head to the side, gaze curious now, “Tenzo,” he admits, “You?” he asks.

“Obito,” he says back. “Do…you feel it too, don’t you?” he asks suddenly.

Tenzo’s eyes go wide and he nods, “All my life,” he admits near breathlessly at the sudden realization.

Obito grins, giddy with the realization that he’s not alone. No more words are exchanged, both turning unerringly towards where the pull is coming from. They walk, unaware of the passing hours, never growing tired as the trees grow bigger, taller, darker, the limbs and vines around them becoming twisted and strange but still they follow the pull, near mindless in their need to reach the end point.

Finally, they push through a wall of hanging vines, pulling them aside as the slip through and they come to a stop to see a tree larger than any they have ever seen in this forest of titans. Its roots encompass the area, twisting and wrapping, like reaching limbs halted in mid motion.

Around the tree, carved into the bark, are glowing symbols unlike any they have ever seen. Something urges them onward and they don’t resist, don’t question what is going on. This feels right and they must do this.

They climb the roots easily, the wood shaped almost like a set of steps up towards the great trunk to a wide root that looks almost like a landing for them to stand on easily. Reaching out, their hands move in sync, pressing against the rough bark on either side of one of the symbols.

Their hands glow bright green and with a gasp, they feel energy being pulled from them. It doesn’t hurt, in fact, it feels nice, but it’s strange. With a whine, the glowing symbol carved there shatters, the bark buckling under the pressure and force.

Falling back, they sit on the root gasping for breath. The bark before them ripples and one by one, they hear more whines as the rest of the symbols shatter. With a groan, the wood before them splits open, the scent of sap heavy in the air.

From the gap, a figure steps unhurriedly. They stare up at him with wide eyes and he smiles down at them brightly, face ancient and lovely. “Hello little ones,” he murmurs, kneeling down before them. “So, you are the only ones to come. I guess the others must not have survived to maturity. A shame but you two were enough.”

“Who are you?” Tenzo asks before Obito can. His heart is beating so fast, elation at the sight of this man nearly swamping his mind and he doesn’t know why.

“Me…I was once called Hashirama…or Senju by a few others. I am…or I was this,” he motions around him with a wave of his hand at the forest they are in. “The trees, the plants, nature at its wildest, unbridled, raw…destructive,” he says and his grin speaks of dark things, of blood and destruction, nature conquering everything in its path.

He sighs as his face grows sad, “I grew complacent. I placed my trust where I shouldn’t. They had grown to fear me, to fear us, me and my brothers,” he murmurs, gaze growing distant and dark. “They thought to control what was not theirs to control and when I, when we, would not bend to the yoke, when we would not yield what was rightfully ours, they found ways to chain us, bind us, seal us away.”

The vines and roots around them stir and tremble around them in his anger and the two of them hold their breaths but nothing happens. “I have slept here for centuries, bidding my time. They were ignorant. They couldn’t understand the way of trees, the slow building and creeping of nature. I had planned for years already before they brought their chains to bear on me and so they knew not of what I had already planted,” he murmurs and reaches out to lay a hand on each of their heads.

“My seeds…my seedlings, left to grow, to strengthen over the years, the centuries and they grew complacent…forgetful and now they have all but forgotten of my reign, my wrath,” he murmurs, voice like a distant rumble of thunder.

Something passes between him and them: a blooming of knowledge, of power, of understanding so deep and ancient and they know. Smiling, he offers them his hands and they let him pull them up. “It is time they remembered the wrath of nature and they will tremble before us and beg for forgiveness and they will weep for none will come,” he roars and the trees groan and shake around him before suddenly stilling.

“But first, we must free my brothers from their own chains. Let us find Zetsu. He will know where they are. It was his hand, after all, that tended you while I slept,” he murmurs and they nods, following him away from his prison. Around them, the trees part, their roots guiding them unerringly towards where they need to go. The time of humanity was finally at an end.

Chapter Text

His office is silent as he reads through the reports he’s accumulated over the last few months. Were his control not what it is, he would surely be projecting his rage across half of Konoha by now. They don’t say much and were he any less of a shinobi he might not see what they don’t say.

But he does see it, subtly hidden away behind the minutiae of paperwork and forms. Little crumbs of something so much bigger and darker than they would have him believe. The knock on his door comes and he rolls up the report, taking it and the rest and sliding them into his drawer, warding it before calling out, “Enter.”

It opens easily and he stares neutrally at a face he last saw on the field of battle and that he hasn’t seen much of since he arrived and retook his position as Hokage. Cane thumping softly on the carpet of the office, one dark eye stares passively back at him.

“Tobirama-sensei,” Danzō greets gruffly.

“You will address me as Nidaime-sama or Hokage-sama,” he says simply, turning away to look at a file on his desk in feigned indifference though he catches the faint tightening of Danzō’s hand on his cane and feels the smallest ripple in his control over his chakra.

“Of course, Nidaime-sama,” he says smoothly, face still neutral despite the rage burning in him. “You sent for me?” he asks.

“I did. I have been reading over much that has happened between my disappearance and my return. I am aware of the boy you have taken in, the one Orochimaru experimented on. You will turn him over to me,” he says simply, still not looking up from the file.

“I don’t understand, Nidaime-sama. The boy is doing well under my care. It would be-,” he says before Tobirama cuts him off.

“That is not a request. It is an order. As both Hokage and Clan Head of the Senju, it is well within my rights to demand the boy be placed in my custody. While I’m sure you…tutelage has been adequate, I will be taking over from now on. You will also turn over all the scrolls you have on the Mokuton and the Senju as a whole,” he adds, glancing up with narrowed red eyes at Danzō.

“I…as my Hokage demands,” he says stiffly, bowing and turns to leave.

“And Danzō,” Tobirama says sharply. Danzō pauses but doesn’t turn around. “You will dismantle Root. If you think I am unaware of what you have been doing in the name of Konoha, you are sorely mistaken and have forgotten just who I am in these long years of my absence.”

“Hokage-sama?” he asks simply, though Tobirama can feel the rage nearly radiating off Danzō as his control wavers.

“You don’t want me looking too closely into what you’ve been doing, Danzō. You won’t like my decision if I find even a shred of evidence to what I believe you to have done and you won’t get out of it alive,” he says icily, an edge of killing intent rolling out.

“Of course, Hokage-sama,” he grits out and the door snaps shut behind him. Tobirama sits back against his chair, following Danzō out of the tower mentally and across the village until he finally disappeared behind wards too strong to sense through.

Rubbing at his eyes, he stands up and signs to his guard that he will be going to the Senju Compound for a moment before he pulls on one of his Hiraishin tags and flashes from the room. He appears near the rear of the compound in a flash of light and watches in amusement as Iruka, who had been practicing his water walking on the koi pond, yelps at his sudden arrival and loses control of his chakra to plunges into the water with a large splash.

Iruka sits up sputtering in the waist high water and glares at Tobirama while a bit of lily pad hangs off his head. “I demand you wear a bell or something,” he grumbles. “This popping in everywhere is going to give me a heart attack one day,” he adds with a huff as he extracts himself from the pond.

Huffing in amusement Tobirama gestures, calling to the water and it comes leaving behind a dry if somewhat dirty Iruka and directs it and the koi that got tangled up in the boy’s clothing back into the pond. “My apologies, I did not mean to disrupt your concentration,” he says and Iruka eyes him for a moment before nodding.

“It’s fine,” he says with a grin. “You’re home early. Is something up?” he asks, used to Tobirama’s schedule by now of spending all day in the office or around the village as needed before coming home for dinner promptly around six unless something held him up.

“Indeed, I would like to speak with you about something,” he says and motions toward the engawa at the back of the main house.

“Sure,” Iruka says with a nod, following Tobirama to the engawa and settling next to him and then waits for Tobirama to talk.

He nods with a faint smile. “I need to inform you beforehand that someone will be joining us here in the compound,” he explains.

“Oh, okay,” Iruka says easily. “Who are they?” he asks.

“I do not know his name yet, but he is a boy around your age. I need to warn you now. He has not had a traditional upbringing, or even a good upbringing. There will be gaps in his knowledge, things that you might know but that he doesn’t get. Especially, social cues and emotional overtones,” Tobirama explains.

Iruka frowns, digesting his words slowly so he can understand exactly what he is saying, “Okay. I’ll try to explain things if he doesn’t understand. We can’t know everything and even I don’t understand things sometimes,” he says with a smile.

“Thank you,” Tobirama says with a proud nod and stands. “He will be here tonight when I return.”

“Alright, do you want me to start dinner early?” he asks. “I’ve got training this afternoon with Shigeru-sensei but that’s it.”

“If you could get everything cut up for me, that would be most helpful,” Tobirama says and Iruka nods. “I will see you tonight.”

“Alright,” Iruka says and stands as well to walk back over to the pond, though he waits for Tobirama to leave before he starts practicing again.

~*~

He senses their approach as he finishes clearing his desk of his work. A knock at the door has him calling out “Enter” and Danzō and a young boy step into the room.

“As ordered, here is the boy. Kinoe, you will no longer be under my command from this point onward. You will take all orders from the Nidaime from now on,” Danzō barks out harshly. With hard glance at Tobirama, he smacks a large scroll into the boy’s arms and storms out of the room.

“Nidaime-sama,” Kinoe says softly, looking confused by this sudden turn of events.

“Hello, Kinoe,” he greets, coming around his desk to stand in front of him. “I am aware of just what was done to you. As I’m sure you are aware of just who I am and what I represent.” Kinoe nods slowly. “Good, from now on, you will be living in the Senju Compound with myself and two others: Umino Iruka who is of age with you, and Uzumaki Naruto, an infant in my care. Follow,” he orders and Kinoe follows obediently behind him without question.

Rather than going by way of one of his Hiraishin markers, he leads the way out of the tower and towards the compound on foot, Kinoe having to walk faster to keep up with his longer stride but not complaining about the pace.

As the main gate comes into view, he places a hand on Kinoe’s shoulder, subtly placing a Hiraishin marker on him while indicating he should stop for a moment. “I must add you to the wards,” Tobirama explains simply and Kinoe nods. Pressing his hand to the gate, he opens the wards and motions Kinoe to step closer and press his hand to the gate so he can add his own chakra to them.

Finished, he pushes open the gate and Kinoe follows silently behind him, shutting the gate behind them. He can see the lights are on, Iruka already back from training, can feel his small flame of chakra and the blazing bonfire that is Naruto’s a little further away, most likely in his crib.

“I’m home” Tobirama calls out, toing off his sandals, motioning Kinoe should do so as well, taking the scroll still clutched in his arms. He’ll go over it with a fine toothed comb later, but first he needs to get Kinoe settled into the house.

“Welcome back,” Iruka says, sticking his head out of the kitchen door to wave, a cutting knife in his hand. “I’m almost done cutting everything up,” he informs him.

“Thank you,” Tobirama says with a nod and Iruka ducks back into the kitchen. “Stay here a moment,” he orders and Kinoe nods, dark eyes taking in every facet of the house he has just entered. Tobirama absently wonders if he can feel Hashirama’s chakra in the wood, still present even after all these years. It had been a small balm on his soul when he had stepped into the main house and felt his brother’s chakra wrap around him, a little piece of before he thought long gone.

Taking the scroll, he heads for his study to secure the scroll away, activating the security seals on his safe. If Danzō placed any kind of traps or threats to the security of the compound in the scroll, the seals will nullify it temporarily until he can remove them himself.

Stepping back out into the hall, he finds Kinoe exactly where he left him and Tobirama frowns faintly. That obedience, that unquestioning loyalty, even to someone he has never met before today, even his Hokage reminds him of his childhood and his clans unwavering loyalty to his father, even when he made questionable or even wrong decisions. Tajima might have been the one to start using the child hunters but his father had followed right behind in using them too.

It doesn’t surprise him that Danzō has fallen to similar tactics of breeding loyalty from such a young age, wiping out any sign of emotion or freewill at such a young age. Tobirama absently wonders if he would have been like this without his brother to remind him to be human.

Shaking the morose thoughts off, he motions to Kinoe to follow, stepping into the kitchen. Iruka is just finishing up at the skin, rinsing off the knife and washing his hands, while plates of fresh cut vegetables and meat sit off to the side, waiting for Tobirama to make dinner.

Drying his hands hastily on a towel, Iruka turns around with a grin. “Hello, you must be who Tobirama-san told me about,” he greets.

Tobirama nods, watching the way Kinoe stares in confusion at Iruka’s very bright personality. “Iruka, this Kinoe,” Tobirama introduces Kinoe who doesn’t seem like he’ll speak any time soon.

“Hi, I’m Umino Iruka,” Iruka says in greeting.

“Hello,” Kinoe greets stiltedly, obviously not used to being the center of attention or even being greeted.

“I will start dinner now. Why don’t you show Kinoe around,” Tobirama offers up and Iruka nods.

“Okay, come on,” Iruka says, reaching out to tug on Kinoe’s sleeve to lead him out of the kitchen towards the rest of the house. Tobirama follows them mentally, catching the start of Iruka’s babble, “So this is the front, obviously you’ve already seen it…,” before he turns back to the food waiting to be cooked.

Tobirama loses himself in the science of cooking, keeping a mental tab on the two boys as they wander around the house and even outside as Iruka keeps him entertained. Setting the pot onto the burner, he lowers the heat and covers it with the lid, leaving it to simmer for a time.

Wiping his hands on a towel, he follows their chakra signatures towards Naruto’s room, catching the tail end of Iruka’s words, “…is Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto to be precise,” Iruka informs Kinoe.

“He is small,” Kinoe says quietly.

“Well, yes, he’s a baby. Babies start out small and then they grow up, like we are doing. We were this small once,” Iruka explains patiently. Tobirama peeks around the door’s edge to see Iruka’s head cocked in thought, “Have you never interacted with a baby before?” he asks.

“I have not,” Kinoe says, acting more like a soldier reporting to a commander than to a child his own age.

Iruka frowns but pushes past the weirdness of the interaction. “That’s okay, I didn’t have much experience with them before I came here,” he says, reaching into the crib to pick Naruto up who gurgles softly. “I had to ask Sandaime-sama and Migashi-san down the street on how to take care of babies so I could help with Naruto.”

“I don’t know how to care for…babies,” he says slowly.

“That’s okay, I’ll teach you,” Iruka assures. “So babies are small and weak. At first they can’t even move around. Naruto’s started sitting up and crawling but soon he’ll be standing and walking and then running,” he explains with a grin. “They eat breast milk for a while but after a bit they start eating more solid foods, like pureed fruit and such. Naruto won’t start eating real solid food for a bit still but he likes mashed peas and mangos. He doesn’t like carrots right now and tends to fling them when I try to feed them to him,” he laments, babbling. “He’s also started teething. It means his baby teeth are starting to come through his gums. It hurts so we have a frozen teething ring he chews on to sooth them and help them come in faster.”

“I…see,” Kinoe says, looking quietly overwhelmed but taking it all in like a shinobi quickly memorizing information for a mission.

“Would you like to hold him?” Iruka asks suddenly.

“What?” Kinoe asks, looking uncertain.

“Hold him,” Iruka says, stepping closer with Naruto clutched in his arms. “It’s easy. I’ll show you,” he says, not taking no for an answer. “Hold your arms kind of how mine our,” Iruka instructs and Kinoe stiffly mirrors him. “Alright, careful. You need to support him like this,” Iruka says after transferring Naruto into Kinoe’s stiff arms and adjusts them accordingly. “See, not so hard.”

Kinoe stares down at Naruto with wide, slightly panicked eyes and Naruto grins up at him, letting out a laugh. “What is he doing?” Kinoe asks worriedly.

“He’s smiling and laughing,” Iruka explains. “It means he likes you,” he adds patiently. “Isn’t that right, Naru-chan,” Iruka coos, tickling Naruto’s stomach and making the boy laugh and wiggle in Kinoe’s arms. Then he sniffs and his nose wrinkles, “Uh oh.”

“What?” Kinoe asks, looking worried and tensing like there’s a threat.

“He messed his diaper,” Iruka says with a sigh. “I just changed you too, Naruto,” he grumbles and Naruto giggles some more. “Here, I’ll show you how to do a diaper. It’s a dirty job but someone’s got to do it,” he says with a sigh and leads Kinoe over to the changing table.

Tobirama smiles faintly as Iruka manages to draw Kinoe a little out of his stoic silence. The boy’s gaze keeps glancing down at Naruto as if he can’t pull his gaze away for too long. It’s not perfect and he doubts Kinoe will ever be truly normal, but then what shinobi is truly normal, as the civilians like to point out. It will take work to keep him from back sliding but he’s sure constant exposure to Iruka and Naruto will help the boy to…adjust from being a silent, nameless tool in Danzō’s arsenal.

Clearing his throat, Iruka just looks up, used to Tobirama constantly taking him by surprise but Kinoe flinches, clutching Naruto to his chest and Tobirama arches a brow at how quickly the boy has marked Naruto as important. “Dinner will be ready soon. Go wash your hands,” he orders, stepping forward to pull Naruto from Kinoe’s unresisting arms. “Come along Naruto. I’m sure you’re hungry,” he murmurs and Naruto giggles, small hands smacking against his cheek gently. Away from their view, he nibbles gently at his fingers and Naruto giggles harder.

Dinner that night is stilted, Kinoe reverting back to his silence, obviously uncomfortable in the moment, probably never having shared a meal in this fashion and not sure how to act. Thankfully, Iruka keeps the conversation going, telling him about his day and his training with Shigeru-sensei and his team.

Tobirama nods along, adding comments and advice as he helps Naruto eat between bits of his own food. Kinoe spends it watching them, no doubt trying to figure out this new ‘mission’ as he is probably dibbing his stay here.

Finished, Tobirama stands with Naruto who is currently wearing much of his pureed beats. “I will bath Naruto. Iruka, why don’t you show Kinoe to his room so he can get settled in,” he says.

“Okay, come on Kinoe,” Iruka says and leads the shell-shocked boy out of the room.

Tobirama sighs faintly, “It will take time,” he murmurs to Naruto who seems more interested with the pureed beats coating his fist than what Tobirama is saying.

After bathing Naruto and putting him to bed, the boy falling asleep fairly easily unlike most nights. He can feel Kinoe in the room Iruka showed him to and finds Iruka in the kitchen, taking care of the dinner dishes, frowning down at a plate he’s cleaning. He doesn’t even jump when Tobirama appears next to him, taking the plate to rinse off and dry.

“I see what you meant…from earlier,” Iruka says softly, hand stilling on the bowl he’s cleaning.

“Ah,” Tobirama says with a frown of his own.

“What happened to him?” he asks, looking up with troubled brown eyes, brows furrowed.

Tobirama sighs but faces him fully. It would be pointless to try and sugar coat this to him. He will find out eventually. “The way of shinobi isn’t always kind to children. Some see children as weapons to be easily forged and molded into perfect soldiers, uncaring of the harm they cause to them. It was a view my brother and I tried to change after creating Konoha but some things are hard to change.”

“Oh,” Iruka says quietly, hand fisting on his dish rag.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help him,” Tobirama says, laying a hand on Iruka’s shoulder and squeezes it gently. “It won’t be easy and there will be set backs but we can help him.”

“Okay,” Iruka says softly. They finish the dishes in silence after that and he sends Iruka off to bed with a reminder that he has missions in the morning and to not stay up too late.

After sending the boy off to bed, he stops by Kinoe’s room. Opening the door a crack, he peers in and sees him lying on top of the futon staring up at the ceiling. He’s wearing a pair of Iruka’s pajamas. He reminds himself to get clothing for the boy. He sees the kunai held in his hand and the wary glance he sends towards the door and towards Tobirama: a shinobi in unknown territory.

“Good night, Kinoe,” he says simply and Kinoe nods silently.

Sighing faintly, he shuts the door, leaving a seal to monitor the boy’s movement in and out of the room. He isn’t so foolish as to allow him completely free reign of the compound. The boy is a tool of Danzō’s and it will take more than one night to remove the hooks the man has placed in him. The first will be removing that silencing seal on his tongue.

Settling into his study, he sets up his wards and protective seals and removes the scroll. He finds a few seals for tracking and listening from a distance but no traps. It’s simple work to remove the pitiful ploys placed by Danzō. He shakes his head at the man’s laughable attempts to get information on what happens in the compound. For being one of his students time has dulled his memories on just who Tobirama is. Or maybe that is what he wants Tobirama to think.

He’ll ponder this thread later. A quick check of the scroll show his own hand writing, laying out the various ways of Mokuton, all the basic jutsus and chakra exercises his brother used to train his ability. None of the bigger jutsus are listed. As if he would allow such things out into the world. The only ones who knew them were Hashirama and himself.

Satisfied that the scroll is accounted for, he seals it back into his safe. He spends the next few hours finishing the work he brought home with him and then readies for bed. His seal chimes in his head and he senses out to watch silently as Kinoe leaves his room and aims for Naruto’s.

He slips silently out of his room, the boy unaware of his arrival as he stops in the doorway, the door still open. But he’s not doing anything, simply staring down at the sleeping Naruto. Slowly, he reaches out and touches Naruto’s puff of bright blonde hair. Naruto murmurs in his sleep, pressing into the hand and Kinoe remains there, staring intently down at the baby for a few more minutes before he turns away and startles to see Tobirama in the doorway.

Tobirama doesn’t say anything, simply stepping aside to let him pass. Kinoe walks silently out of the room and back to his room, shutting the door silently behind him. Tobirama steps into the room and gives a quick once over of Naruto but he’s still asleep, undisturbed by their visit. Smiling faintly, he pulls the boy’s blanket up higher on him and then heads back to his room to finish getting ready for bed.

Chapter Text

He’s ten when the Kyuubi attacks and he loses his parents, his home and any chance of having a normal life.  The few months after the attack, Iruka is numb mostly, floating along as he goes to class and even when he skips to spend the day moping in a tree, the world just too much. He lost everything in the attack and any family records he might have looked at were lost when their home had gone up in flames and with no one left to speak with, his parents having been the last of their families too, there’s no one to turn to with his questions when it finally happens.

It’s four months after the attack when he feels the pain and he slips out of the room before the teacher can get in and goes to the bathroom. He waits to see if it will pass but it doesn’t, only growing worse, Iruka’s hands shaking. He can barely move, let alone walk as the waves of pain keep coming, excruciating and unlike anything he’s ever felt.

He’d locked the door when he came in and though a few people knock to see if it’s occupied, he’s in too much pain to call out, biting his lips bloody as tears streak down his face. It’s only near the end of the day, someone hammering at the door to demand in that anyone thinks to try and unlock it. They find him curled up in the corner, bloody and crying from the pain, newly manifested and barely conscious.

He’s rushed to the hospital but it’s too late, curious faces peeking into the room and they see his newest additions. Word quickly spreads from mouth to mouth, rumor and speculation running rampant about what it means that Umino Iruka, who lost his parents to the Kyuubi, would manifest as a fox.

~

The next three months are just pure torment to Iruka, his new black pointed ears and long black tail, the tip white, a beacon for the cruelties of children. Cruelties that seem to be encouraged as none of the teachers ever really stop it, some even walking passed without a backward glance, all the permission the bullies need.

Iruka spends more and more time away from the Academy, trying to avoid them but sometimes they corner him in the village, in hidden areas where the adults aren’t likely to see, poking and jabbing at him, tormenting him with words and when that’s not enough, fists and feet.

It gets to the point that Iruka is just done. Done with the Academy and the teachers who do nothing to help him, with the village and the vaguely distrustful stares the civilians and even some of the shinobi send him. He just wants to be left alone but even that isn’t likely to happen since the orphanage is jammed packed with Kyuubi orphans who like to take out their anger on him. Iruka’s the only fox in the village. They blame him since they can’t take out their anger on the Kyuubi.

He ditches class as usual but instead of hiding, he heads for the hospital. The woman behind the desk stares at him in horror when he asks if they can dock his ears and tail without parental consent since he’s still technically a minor and has no parents, now a ward of the village.

Needless to say, the Hokage is quietly informed and Iruka is shuffled off to the psychiatric part of the hospital, not getting what all the fuss is about. No one cared about him before when he first manifested, why should they care now that he wants them gone?

He’s shown into a room where he meets Yamanaka Inoka, a pleasant woman with the typical Yamanaka coloring but Iruka can see the white and gold feathers hidden in her hair and the vaguely predatorial eyes of a raptor staring out of her face, even with her charming smile.

“Hello, Iruka-san,” she greets from her comfortable looking chair, Iruka seated on a small loveseat, arms crossed over his chest.

“Hi,” he mutters, shrugging a shoulder and not looking at her. He keeps his tail tucked close, ears pressed tight against his head.

“Rukina-san tells me you asked to have your tail and ears docked, is that right?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Iruka says in a clipped voice, not in the mood to explain himself. As if any adult would care enough to actually listen to him anyways.

“Tell me, Iruka-san, what brought this on?” she asks patiently, her expression calm.

“You really have to ask,” Iruka snaps out with a glare before he looks away again.

“I do. I don’t know anything about you, or what has caused you to want this procedure. If we are to allow it, we must make sure it is for the right reasons. It can’t be reversed you see, so we need to make sure you won’t regret it,” Inoka explains.

“What’s there to regret? I want them gone and that’s that,” Iruka snaps out.

“Okay, but you need to tell me why you want them gone,” Inoka says.

“I’m sure you can make an educated guess,” Iruka huffs out.

“You’re avoiding the question, Iruka-san,” Inoka says pointedly.

Iruka explodes up off the couch, fists balled at his side, “Why do you care?” he screams, red faced and furious. “No one fucking cares. No one would even fucking notice whether I had them or not. I just want them gone! I want to stop-,” Iruka cuts off, turning away before she can see the angry tears in his eyes.

“What do you want stopped?” Inoka asks softly.

“I want to stop being afraid,” Iruka cries out, sobbing, arms wrapped around his torso. Arms wrap around him and Iruka sobs harder, clinging to the smallest bit of comfort he’s had in a long time. He tells her brokenly, over the next hour, everything that’s happened and by the end, he’s wrung out and exhausted.

Inoka hands him off to a medic to be checked over thoroughly and to be given some food while she goes off to report to the Hokage, though he doesn’t know this. He doesn’t hear what she says or what is decided, but quietly, the Sandaime comes down on the Academy hard.

Everyone, whether they were complicit or not, is threatened within an inch of their life if he hears word that they’re allowing such blatant cruelty and torture of a child in their care. He threatens to strip them of the teaching license and put permanently on the sewage squads if he finds any evidence that they encouraged this actively.

Iruka is quietly removed from the orphanage, the boy old enough to be allowed a small apartment while he finishes at the Academy. While the outright torment ends, the small petty cruelties don’t. They just become sneakier, catching him in dark corners, or using the excuse of taijutsu practice or weapons practice to hurt him and pretend it’s an accident. Iruka ends up far too often at the hospital for broken bones, concussions and cuts that need stitches and all the while he refuses to say anything else, afraid if he does, they’ll just do something worse.

He studies harder than he ever has because he doubts he could survive another year of this. He graduates and is quietly assigned to his genin team with two others who were from a different class and whom Iruka never had any interactions with, good or bad, which is a relief. While they don’t become fast friends, they aren’t hostile to him either but that doesn’t matter. The damage is done and Iruka spends most of his time watching his own back and refusing to trust them outright. How can he trust anyone anymore?

~

He makes Chuunin at sixteen, finally. He’s more than ready to go out in the world and make a name for himself. While he’s taken to hiding his ears and tail, no one ever really forgets. A bandana like hitai-ate, similar to Genma’s, covers his ears and the specially made tail sheaths on shinobi under armor to protect tails from being grabbed or cut is used to keep his tail tucked up and hidden under his flak vest. It aches at first, Iruka not used to having it be confined, but he gets used to it.

He starts taking harder missions, going out on teams with other chuunin and occasionally a jounin. He prefers the solo missions, even if they’re mainly courier missions. Then at least he doesn’t have to keep an eye on his back the whole time with a team. The torments haven’t stopped just because he grew up and made chuunin, but they have tapered off some, the usual culprits busy with their own missions.

He doesn’t have any friends, or even acquaintances, though the Hokage says he should try. Iruka doesn’t see the point in trying. If he can’t trust them to have his back on a mission, why would he trust them in his home or within his personal space? Iruka just shrugs and ignores the man’s worried looks as they enjoy tea and play shogi, something that started happening not long after everything came out.

With more experience comes harder missions, Iruka finally gaining some recognition, a little bit at least. Unfortunately, it all comes crashing down around him spectacularly. A mission with not only Sharingan Kakashi as captain, but two of his most prolific tormenters as well, leads to his downfall.

The feel of eyes constantly on his back and the knowing looks and smirks sent by the other chuunin leaves him jumpy and on edge the whole mission, part of his attention constantly on his back and in dividing his attention, he nearly bring the mission to a disastrous end. Only Kakashi’s quick reflexes keep Iruka from being gutted, Iruka rushing ahead to get the mission done and over with faster, not willing to rely on any of them for help.

Needless to say, Kakashi gives him a dressing down, grey eye snapping with fury as they camp for the night, the bandage around Iruka’s torso tight and making the slash there throb with each pulse of his heart.

“Tell me, Umino-san, what the hell you thought you were doing running in like that? Not only did you give our position away to the enemy, you put yourself and your team in danger needlessly. Are you looking for glory? To one up? Claim a little fame for your own?” he snaps. “In my teams, you follow my orders to the letter and don’t pull stupid stunts like that. You’re lucky you’re not dead,” Kakashi snaps out.

Iruka just takes it, gut twisting as the two others grin and smother chuckles behind Kakashi’s back, mouthing ‘useless’ at him. “No, sir, I wasn’t aiming to do that. I was simply trying to complete the mission,” Iruka says blankly, staring just passed Kakashi’s shoulder, not meeting his eye. “You won’t have to worry Hatake-taichō, I won’t be on a team with you again,” Iruka says, just feeling tired and resigned, realizing that this won’t work anymore. “I will be turning in my resignation from active duty when we get back,” Iruka adds stiffly.

He can’t just keep taking solo missions and if he can’t trust his team, then someone will more than likely die, that person probably him because one of his team let an enemy get to his unprotected back. Iruka bows to Kakashi, the man’s eye a little wide in shock at Iruka’s words, but Iruka doesn’t care, simply turns away and sets himself apart from the team. He doesn’t sleep well the rest of the journey back, hand clutched around his kunai and waking at every little noise, expecting one of the two to try and pull something now that he’s so thoroughly humiliated himself.

~

Kakashi’s just getting back from a short mission and decides to stop by the Memorial Stone before reporting in. There’s no rush, seeing as he’s a day early. Heavy clouds cover the sky, threatening rain and Kakashi can feel the heavy buzz of building lightning in the clouds. The storm will be a big one.

He’s surprised when he comes around a section of trees to see someone standing there already. Sighing in annoyance, he’s about to turn away and come back later when he recognizes the rear profile of the shinobi.

Umino Iruka has been a stray niggling thought in his mind over the last four months. He’d certainly taken Kakashi by surprise by his abrupt decision to just leave active duty. Kakashi hadn’t thought his words had been that harsh, certainly not enough to turns someone off active duty.

When he’d turned in his report on the nearly failed mission, he hadn’t been expecting to be called in by the Hokage later that day. When the Sandaime had commanded him to go over the mission in detail, particularly asking for details on how Umino acted, Kakashi’s suspicions had ramped up. But suspicions are not solid proof so he’d left that meeting with more questions than answers.

Umino seems to finish and turns abruptly before Kakashi can hide himself. The two stare awkwardly at each other, Umino seeming to shrink in a little on himself, hunching as he realizes who is in front of him. It takes Kakashi a second to figure out what is different about the Chuunin before the man’s pointed ears flatten, giving away his discomfort at meeting Kakashi out here.

He tries to place what animal Umino is, but before he can, the man bows with a muttered, “Taichō,” before he rushes passed Kakashi. Kakashi turns slightly to watch him go and finally notices the tail sheath just poking out from under his uniform vest.

Not sure what to make of the whole interaction and Umino himself, Kakashi turns back to his earlier task, putting his curiosity away for now to deal with his own ghosts.

~*~

Iruka likes teaching. He’s come to realize this over the years since that horrible mission that ruined his active shinobi career. He didn’t like it at first, seeing it as taking a step down when he’d only wanted to get stronger and stronger. There’s push back from some of the parents about him working there, and though he’s not privy to the meeting between them, the dean of the school and the Hokage, he knows words are had that state that Iruka will be allowed to teach there and if they have issues then they can pull their children from the academy.

It’s nice to know that the Sandaime still has his back and in his own way, the dean though he makes it known that Iruka is to keep his ears and tail covered while working around the children. He coaches it as keeping them protected around pre-genin with access to weapons, but Iruka knows it’s to avoid the children asking questions.

With his ears and tail covered up, he’s mostly ignored by the rest of the teaching staff, though Daikoku-san attempts to at least be friendly with him, but Iruka refuses to fall for that trick again. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to befriend him only to turn on him. So he keeps him at arm’s length and does his job well.

He does like the children the most. They don’t judge him and though some have asked what his animal side is, most don’t care, only really interested in ninja stuff as they put it. It’s refreshing because he doesn’t constantly have to watch his back around them, except when they have weapons practice, but that’s a given. For once, he’s not constantly on edge around people, a reprieve from the usual status quo that is his life.

It’s been a few years since he started teaching that he’s assigned his own class and he meets him…the other pariah in this village. He remembers when that wave of rumors passed through the village saying that the small child in his class has the Kyuubi sealed inside him. They hadn’t realized he was listening in to their conversation. He does recall them commenting that maybe he and Uzumaki Naruto must be related, considering their vulpine commonality.

The first day of that class, he looks at blue eyes and sees a similar distrust looking back. They don’t see Umino Iruka though, the other pariah of this village. They see another adult and are waiting for him to be like everyone else.

Iruka wonders what his life would have been like if he had even one adult besides the Sandaime to actually treat him right. Maybe things might have been different…or at least more bearable. Smiling, he decides to be that one adult for Naruto, refusing to be like everyone else in this child’s life. Let them talk that it was only inevitable that Iruka would befriend Naruto. He’s done letting them dictate his life.

~*~

The village is an overturned hornet’s nest when Kakashi arrives back from his brief mission to deliver the Hokage’s message to an informant. The two chuunin at the front gate aren’t any help, only saying that something has happened and that the village is on lockdown until further notice. Giving the code to prove who he is, Kakashi scales the wall and looks over the village as the sun continues to set overhead.

A stop at the Administration building clears things up quickly as to what is going on and why do many shinobi are out in force in the village. The Scroll of Seals in the unknowing hands of Sensei’s son. This could be the biggest disaster since the Kyuubi attacked twelve years before.

He stops by the Hokage manor and summons Pakkun to parse through the scents there to try and pick up the child’s scent. He silently curses himself for not getting it earlier, just in case. Then again, he’s never like to have reminders of his mistakes and Naruto is a reminder of the Yondaime, Kushina and old his team.

Pakkun manages to pick up something and they rush off, heading north, away from the village center and towards the deep woods north of the monument. They’re getting deeper when the sound of hurried running makes them pause and they watch a shadowed shape blur by, Kakashi recognizing Umino Iruka, even years older from the last time he really interacted with the Chuunin.

They follow silently, the Chuunin not being stealthy at all. He comes to a clearing just in time to watch Umino throw himself at a white haired shinobi who’s in the process of attacking the partially prone Naruto, the scroll on the forest floor beside him as he stares up in shock.

“Don’t you fucking touch him,” Umino growls out, dodging blows as he tries to get under the enemy shinobi’s guard.

“Figures you’d show up here, you mangy fox. Like calls to like and all that. What’s it like knowing he’s got the Kyuubi on the inside and you’ve got it on the outside?” he snarls, the jib managing to catch Umino off guard and the Chuunin hisses in pain as the kunai sinks deep into his gut. “You should have done us all a favor and offed yourself years ago.”

“At least I’m not a traitor,” Iruka hisses back, pulling the kunai out of his flesh and tosses it aside. “That thing may be sealed inside him, but he’s not the monster here. You and every other person in this cursed village who treats children like they’re monsters are the problem,” Iruka snaps back.

“Guess I’ll just have to take care of both of you then,” he growls, pulling out a fuuma shuriken and Kakashi decides to intervene, sending Pakkun to lead the Hokage to their location.

A pair of kunai intercept the thrown weapon, knocking it off course so that in embeds in the tree to the right of the two and Umino and the other shinobi turn to stare at him as Kakashi saunters into the clearing. “Well, this certainly clears up a lot. So, wanna tell me who wants that scroll or should I let T&I have that fun?” Kakashi asks casually, hands in his pockets as he watches the Chuunin. He’s seen him before around the village, though it wasn’t of any consequence.

“Fuck you,” he snarls and lunges for the scroll only for Umino to dart forward, a series of punches and a heavy roundhouse kick knocking the Chuunin to the ground and out cold.

Kakashi is honestly impressed. “You could have gone far as an active shinobi,” he comments mildly.

Umino stares at him for a long moment, clutching his side before he starts to turn away. “No I wouldn’t have. I would have wound up dead. It’s hard to work as a team when you can’t trust them, Hatake-san,” Umino states bluntly before turning away fully to look at Naruto. The mystery finally clarifies at his words, recalling the barely concealed animosity he’d shown to the two members on their team.

“Naruto,” Umino says softly, voice coaxing like he’s talking to a hurt wild animal.

“He said I have the Kyuubi inside me,” Naruto whispers, hands fisting on his lap.

Umino frowns before he sighs and nods. “He was right, you do,” Umino states. “It’s why everyone treats you like they do. They see the fox before they see the person,” he explains softly, voice sounding pained.

“You don’t,” Naruto murmurs.

Umino nods, reaching up with the hand not pressed to his side and pulls his hitai-ate off, the bandana material sliding off to allow two pointed ears to stand up. “I know what it’s like to be judged for something you can’t change,” Umino admits.

“Oh,” Naruto whispers, looking shocked.

“Why did you take the scroll?” Umino asks, more curious than angry.

“He said it would tell me why everyone treats me so badly. I was going to read further, but then I didn’t want to know. Knowing wouldn’t stop them,” he admits and Kakashi winces faintly at the truth of his words. Knowing never changes anything.

Iruka goes to say something and grimaces with a soft curse, sitting down hard. “Iruka-sensei,” Naruto shouts, rushing towards his teacher as the man pales.

“I’m okay, just got dizzy from blood loss,” he huffs out and Kakashi steps forward, pressing the man back to take a look at his wound. It’s not deep, but it’s bleeding pretty heavily. Calling up one of the few healing jutsus he knows, Kakashi attempts to staunch the flow as he waits for backup to arrive.

They do arrive shortly, pushing Kakashi aside to tend to Iruka while a pair of ANBU gather up the traitor to cart off. The Sandaime collects his scroll and Kakashi explains quickly what was revealed, Naruto looking afraid that he’s in a lot of trouble.

“We’ll discuss this later, Naruto-kun, but for now, you’re not in trouble. Why don’t you go with Iruka-kun to the hospital and keep him company. I’ll be along shortly once I get all this sorted out,” the man orders and Naruto nods, following the medics as the carry the chuunin away on a stretcher.

Hokage-sama,” Kakashi asks subtly.

“Go with them, make sure no one tries anything,” he orders.

“Is that an issue for those two?” Kakashi asks.

The Sandaime sighs, “Unfortunately, yes,” he growls out, a bit of anger peeking through his iron control before it disappears. Kakashi nods and then turns to follow behind the group ahead, dismissing Pakkun.

~*~

Iruka comes to with a bit of a floating feeling from good pain killers and a dry mouth. He’s in the hospital, a very familiar sight for him considering the amount of times he ended up in here. Shifting slightly, he doesn’t feel any pain, but he does feel something laying on him and when he looks down, he sees the bright blonde hair of Naruto as the boy sleeps half sprawled on him.

The sound of paper crinkling has Iruka turning to see someone sitting on the lip of the window. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the slowly brightening sky outside and is surprised to see Kakashi sitting there reading a book with a familiar lurid orange cover.

“It’s only been a few hours,” Kakashi says without looking up from his reading. “Sandaime-sama ordered me to keep an eye on you two…just in case,” he says pointedly, grey eye flicking towards Iruka and Iruka grimaces, but nods.

He lays his head back down, but movement from Kakashi’s spot draws his gaze and he finally notices the gray tail hanging over the edge of Kakashi’s seat, flicking slightly. He also seems to finally notice the two pointed ears peeking out from the thick grey hair on Kakashi’s head.

“Wolf, if you’re wondering,” Kakashi admits and Iruka flushes at being caught staring. “It’s a family trait,” he adds.

Iruka hums in understanding, recalling another famous grey wolf shinobi that became a pariah himself. Iruka doesn’t say anything else, but the silence grows less tense in the room as they wait for the nurse to arrive to make their rounds.

Chapter Text

Madara walks along the path staring around him at the slowly growing village. He can hardly believe it’s been nearly a year since they first broke ground here. It’s been nearly two years since they signed the peace treaty between Senju and Uchiha. It’s been over two years since he nearly lost his brother only to realize he hadn’t.

Izuna had been furious when Madara had called the retreat, demanding the White Demon’s head on a platter for humiliating him so by not only finally winning their ever balanced rivalry, but also because the pale Senju hadn’t even had the decency to give him a glorious death by defeat. Madara wanders if he should have made his brother wear a helmet to battle as the man is clearly spouting nonsense from too many blows to the head. He’s just glad the only thing they needed to worry about was some cracked ribs the blow had caused.

And now, their strange rivalry has changed to some strange pseudo friendship as far as he can tell. The two are constantly trading cutting barbs and dry, caustic humor like their lives depend on it and honestly Madara and Hashirama aren’t sure if they like each other or hate each other. ‘Frenemies?’ Hashirama had suggested and Madara had shrugged.

As the sun continues to rise, he aims for the Hokage Tower, greeting people along the path who nod, bow, wave or smile as is their nature. Nearly a year has passed and much of the animosity, mistrust and straight hatred have slowly faded to the background. They’re still there, still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but with each day that passes, the people around them become a little more settled and a little less wary of each other.

The Tower comes into view and he sighs, girding himself for having to deal with Hashirama’s drama, Izuna’s bullshit and Tobirama’s cutting remarks on his work. He never would have thought the Senju’s White Demon would be a man who thrived on paperwork and order and yet he is the driving force in keeping this whole damn village running and semi functional.

He passes Izuna’s office, but finds the door closed, his brother still back at the Uchiha Compound. Tobirama’s door is closed as well and he can feel the wards buzzing on the door, but can sense no one in the room. Strange, Tobirama is usually the first one in.

Shrugging, he aims for Hashirama’s office, next to his own, and finds the man enjoying an early cup of tea as he reads over something at his desk. That the man is willingly doing work has him instantly suspicious and he arches a brow. “What did you do?” he demands quickly.

Hashirama’s shoulders slump at his words, “Why do you assume the worst with me?” he moans out dramatically.

“Because usually you’ve done something,” he grumbles with a wave of his hand. “And we usually have to force you to do work,” he adds, pointedly looking at Hashirama’s desk where he has work spread out across it.

The man laughs, the sound booming and echoing with true mirth, and sets the scroll in his hand aside to wipe at some tears. “True, true,” he admits as he sits back. “I promised Tobi I’d keep up on my work if he promised to take a rest day,” he says with a shrug.

“Why is it we have to force you to work and have to force him to rest?” he grumbles, stepping further into the room to lean against his desk.

“We’re both very talented,” Hashirama says blithely with a blinding smile.

“What is this anyways?” Madara asks, ignoring the obvious bait of Hashirama trying to get him to distract him.

“Hmm, oh, its plans for the festival to celebrate the founding of the village,” Hashirama explains excitedly. “Next month is the one year anniversary and I want it to be special. I’ve been consulting with Izuna and some of the other Uchiha on your clan’s festival traditions and with the other clans as well. I was hoping to add a little of everyone’s traditions to celebrate our unity,” he explains.

“Sounds chaotic,” Madara mutters, but can see the appeal of what Hashirama is trying to accomplish.

“Tobi’s figuring out how to incorporate them into the festival, but for the start, it will be the Senju’s fertility rituals and end with the Uchiha fire dancers and fireworks,” he explains excitedly.

“Fertility rituals?” he asks with a raised brow and a snort.

Hashirama nods, but sends him a look, “Not that kind of fertility. It’s an old ritual to bless the land and ensure a full and healthy crop for the following year. Our clan is very much rooted into the land,” he explains easily.

“What does it entail?” Madara asks, curious.

“Hmm, oh, a blood sacrifice and a ceremonial fight,” he explains with a grin.

“What?” Madara yelps. “Who or what the hell are you sacrificing?” he demands.

Hashirama’s brows scrunch up and then he chuckles, seeing what Madara misunderstood. “Not like that,” he says with a grin. “The main family plants a single sapling that I’ve been growing naturally in my garden. We sacrifice part of ourselves, our blood, to connect us to the land and pass our chakra into the sapling. Our legends say that each tree that surrounded our compound was from a previous year’s ritual. After that, using only Doton and Suiton, we would choose a field to ‘fight’ in, using the ninjutsu to till and water the field,” he explains. “Of course, we’ll have to lessen the fight and make it more…symbolic rather than practical, but we don’t want anyone to get hurt,” he sighs softly.

“And I thought the Uchiha had a strange thing for fire and here you are telling me you ritually sacrifice part of yourselves to the land and then have a ritual combat afterwards,” he huffs out.

“Everyone has their traditions,” Hashirama says simply.

Madara hums softly and then shifts to sit on the edge of the desk and notices something tucked behind it. Reaching down, he feels his brows go up at the beautifully made katana in his hand. “What is this for?” he asks, unsheathing it and running an appreciative hand along the blade, seeing the subtle ripple pattern forged into the metal and the way is shines under the morning light. “This was crafted by a master,” he murmurs. A smith himself, he knows master work when he see it.

“Hmm, Tobi thought it might be a good idea to have a…symbol to present at the festivities. This is a combination of Uchiha and Senju forging techniques,” Hashirama explains absently as he scans over another scroll and quickly writes something on it with a small frown. “How many dango stands would be too much?” he asks.

Madara frowns, “How should I know and what do you mean it’s a mix of Senju and Uchiha forging techniques? Since when does anyone know either style well enough to create a master crafted sword like this?” he demands. The Uchiha have held their secrets close when it comes to their metal work.

Hashirama shrugs in indifference. “Don’t look at me. Smithing is not something I know much about. That’s Tobi’s area of expertise,” he waves off with a frown before writing something else onto the scroll.

“His area of expertise?” Madara asks, sounding choked. “Since when does that frigid bastard know anything about smithing?” he asks.

Hashirama hums distractedly, “Hmm, years, I don’t remember when it started though. He’s been working on that for weeks though in his spare time,” he mutters and keeps working.

“Your brother forged this?” he squawks out, eyes wide.

“Who did what now?” Izuna asks as he comes into the room with a look between the sword in Madara’s hand and his shocked expression.

“He says Tobirama forged this,” he thrusts the sword out to Izuna to inspect. Izuna runs a critical eye over the blade and even the sheath. “This is master work,” he says with a frown. “Since when is Tobirama a smith?” he asks Hashirama. “Since when have the Senju done work this good?” he adds on quickly before Hashirama answers.

Hashirama huffs, setting his scroll down, “First off, rude much,” he mutters. “We’ve got good smiths, the same as you. We might not have had any true masters, but we still forged much of our tools and weapons ourselves,” Hashirama points out and Izuna rolls his eyes. “Second, why all this ruckus? It’s just a sword, a nice one, but still a sword.”

“Your lack of understanding smithing is obvious, or you would already understand our shock. You’re serious about Tobirama making this,” Izuna mutters, sheathing the blade with a soft hiss.

Hashirama sighs dramatically. “You guys never get this excited when I do things,” he complains loudly. He waves his hand, “He’s probably at the forge right now. Apparently, that’s how he relaxes when he not in his lab,” he mutters. “It’s like he has no idea of the concept of resting,” he sighs.

Madara and Izuna exchange glances and head out the door, blade still held in Izuna’s grasp as they leave the tower and aim for the Senju Compound. “What, you’re just going to leave me here?” Hashirama wails, standing up from his desk with a desperate look.

“You promised to do your work so Tobirama would take a day off. You wouldn’t want to go back on your word, would you?” Madara says with a grin and Hashirama slumps back into his chair as they shut the door.

The Senju guarding the entrance to the compound nod at them, used to their comings and goings when in search of Hashirama and Tobirama, and they nod back before heading deeper into the compound. It’s not hard to follow the trail of smoke from the Senju’s own forges, though not as numerous as the Uchiha’s.

The ringing of metal being shaped, the acrid scent of hot steel and smoke filling the air is familiar to them. They get a few looks from some of the apprentices rushing about and when prompted they point towards the far end of the group of forges.

Tobirama doesn’t even look up at their approach, more than likely having sensed their arrival long before they even reached him. They stand to the side quietly, watching him hammer away at a red bar of steel. With a grunt, he uses a pair of tongs to pick it up and thrust it back in the fire to reheat as he turns back to them.

“What did he do?” he demands and they blink at the soot smudged face, not used to seeing the pale Senju so…disorderly.

“When the hell did you have time between all your other duties to not only master Uchiha style forging and then find a way to mix them?” Madara demands, holding out the sword towards Tobirama.

“How did you learn Uchiha style too?” Izuna demands as well.

Tobirama blinks at their questioning, having been expecting Hashirama to have done something. “Some of it I figured out by examining your works and experimenting. Others I was granted the chance to observe,” he says with a shrug. “Combining the two styles wasn’t hard with the right planning,” he adds.

“Why did the smiths not tell me?” Madara growls lowly. This is something they should have told him, to at least keep him in the loop.

“I didn’t ask and they didn’t say,” Tobirama says before turning back to the fire to pull the metal out with the tongs to check the color before putting it back. “Is that all you came here to ask me?” he asks with an arched brow.

“Why pick up smithing? The Senju aren’t known for being smiths,” Izuna points out with a huff.

Tobirama sighs like this conversation is taxing him greatly. “Father had the both of us learn the basics. To appreciate the work that went into the weapons we used so we didn’t throw them away needlessly. Hashirama hated it, I was indifferent at first. When I started to experiment, I quickly realized I would need some very specific tools and equipment. Father said if I needed it, I had to make it myself since he couldn’t spare the smiths from their own work. So I did,” Tobirama says with a shrug.

“That…,” Izuna doesn’t seem to know what to say and honestly neither does Madara. Huffing, Izuna stalks closer. “What are you working on?” he demands.

Tobirama actually looks surprised at his words and Madara decides to make himself scarce in case the two fall into fighting like they normally end up doing. He still hefts the blade, mind turning over the beauty of the blade and even its sheath.

A symbol to show what working together can do for them all. It’s not a bad idea, honestly. Maybe he’ll send some of his smiths to chat with the Senju smiths if this is the kind of work that can be created. Maybe it’s time to share some secrets rather than keep them horded away from others.

Food for thought at least.

There’s a burst of flame, a shout, and the scent of smoke chases him nearly all the way to the main gate of the Senju compound. He shares a long suffering look with the two guards who are looking back the way he came and just keeps walking.

Chapter Text

Kakashi lounges in their hiding spot in the ceiling, Shisui, Itachi and Tenzo seated around him as they wait. Honestly, the worst part of being on call as ANBU is the waiting. They’re not always on call, usually every other week unless something comes up sooner, but still, it’s boring.

So when there’s the sound of people moving about below, they perk up, looking over the edge of their spot to look down into the room below: a pair of ANBU with a boar and a rabbit mask are helping to move a strange chair apparatus into the lounge area below. The lounge is the actual place they’re supposed to rest in, but over the years, small alcoves have been built into the stone walls for people to hide in, ANBU preferring it to the openness of the lounge below.

“Didn’t realize we had new recruits coming in,” Shisui says with a grin in his voice. “You know what that means, don’t you?” he asks, elbowing Kakashi in his side just hard enough for him to feel it through his armor.

“Don’t,” Kakashi huffs in annoyance, never hearing the end of it.

“Your crush is coming,” Shisui crows quietly.

“He’s not my crush,” Kakashi mutters.

“Then why is it whenever we have new recruits being initiated, you’re always here if you’re in village?” Tenzo asks softly, side eyeing Kakashi while still looking down below.

“Maybe I just like to see what new idiot they got to agree to join us,” he says pointedly.

“Nah, we know it’s your crush,” Shisui says.

“Enough,” Itachi mutters, sounding long suffering by his cousin’s antics.

They don’t have to wait long before a young shinobi, maybe 18 or 19, comes in behind Cat, the ANBU commander motioning him to sit on a regular chair and says they’ll begin shortly. They all have memories of their own time in that padded chair, arm held down while they got their ANBU marks, though the one who did it to them was someone else who recently retired about three years ago, his apprentice taking over.

The new recruit, they vaguely recognize him though haven’t had any missions with him, sits there nervously, though he at least doesn’t fidget, the need for stillness too ingrained to allow it if he’s been picked for ANBU.

The doors open a few minutes later and a new person comes in, unmasked, despite being in the ANBU compound. “Sorry I’m late. There were a few issues I had to handle,” they apologize with a faint grin, a heavy satchel hanging off of one shoulder.

“It’s fine, Umino-san, we haven’t waited long,” Cat says simply.

There’s a table near the padded chair and Umino sets his heavy bag with a solid thump on the table and starts to unpack most of it. “How much has been said?” he asks Cat, ignoring the new recruit for the moment.

“Only the usual basics,” Cat says and Umino nods.

“Am I allowed to know what you’re talking about?” the recruit asks.

Umino smiles thinly at him and nods. “Sorry, just catching up. I’ll be explaining everything in a moment,” he assures him and finishes setting everything out.

Finally, he turns away from the table and snags another folding chair to drag it over to sit in front of the recruit. “So,” Umino starts with, leaning his elbows on his knees. “You’ve been nominated for ANBU and I’m assuming, you’ve been told how this all works, the secrecy and requirements you will be held to?” he asks and they nod.

“I will be giving you your ANBU mark,” he motions towards his covered upper arm to indicate where it will be placed. “However, before we start that, there are a few things you will need to know before you make your final decision,” he explains.

“I’ve already been through this,” the new guy huffs out, not liking being treated like a kid who doesn’t have all the facts.

“I’m aware, however ANBU isn’t just a choice made on a whim and I prefer to have all the ones I work on have every bit of info before making this decision,” he explains. “Once you join, there is no leaving ANBU, even when you retire, so just humor me, please,” he says with a pointed look and the teen nods sulkily.

“Excellent,” Umino says with a brighter smile. “Now, I’m sure you know of the ANBU mark, maybe have even seen it,” he says and the teen nods. “Well, did you know that the mark is a fake, for the real reason I’m here?” he asks and the teen stills before slowly shaking his head.

“It is still an ANBU mark, but it is actually meant to cover up something. ANBU deal with the highest clearance of missions and info, do things that most will never even hear a whiff of, all while remaining silent. The info you will learn, the things you will see, it will put a heavy target on your back. Capture can’t happen and if it does happen, there are steps to ensure you don’t divulge any secrets to enemies,” Umino says simply, voice even as he lays out the facts.

“Y-yeah,” the teen says, sounding a little nervous.

“A requirement of joining ANUB is that a seal is permanently tattooed onto you. The seal is simple: it ensures no secrets can be taken from you. It has two forms. The first is self-activated. In the off chance you are captured and there is no chance of escaping and help won’t reach you in time if it is coming at all, you can activate the seal to take your life. When activated, it will quickly stop your heart and incinerate you leaving nothing for the enemy to extract anything from, be it clan secrets or village secrets.”

Silence hangs heavily in the room as the teen digests Umino’s words. “The second,” he says when the recruit doesn’t say anything, “is activated upon your death. Thirty seconds upon your death, it will activate and incinerate your body. This ensures that if you are on a solo mission, or your team can’t reach your body in time, that no secrets will be leaked. Should your team, if you have one on the mission, do reach you in time, ANBU members have a technique to delay the seal’s activation to allow them to bring your body home.”

“This seal is permanent. It will be tattooed not just onto your skin, but into your chakra coils and tenketsu points. Not even a suppression seal can stop you from activating it or from it going off at death,” Umino says evenly. “That means once it in place you will never be able to remove it. You will bear this seal always, even if you decide to leave ANBU. Even if you are no longer an active duty shinobi. Even if you reach the ripe old age of the Sandaime,” he says with a huff of laughter and the teen smiles thinly at his attempt at a joke.

“I’m telling you this because right now, you are not fully an ANBU. If you decide this is not something you can handle, you may decline and leave this room after your memories have been altered to remove all knowledge of this interaction and your recruitment. No one will judge you as lesser and there will be no marks placed against you should you decline this. So, do you understand what I’ve told you and do you still wish to go through with this?” he asks evenly, expression neutral.

The recruit looks down at his fisted hands on his knees, expression twisted as he considers over everything. Finally he nods. “I still want to go through with this,” he says with a sharp nod.

“Very well,” Umino says, sitting back, falling into a more professional mind set. “Remove your shirt and pick which arm you wish to have your seal and mark on. Cat, if you would be so kind as to retrieve a blood sample for me,” Umino says and Cat nods.

“What?” the recruit asks in confusion.

“I mix your blood into the ink used to tie the seal to you,” Umino explains as he stands and starts to unzip his vest, setting it aside as he strips his own top off. There’s a tank top underneath and an array of tattoos and seals inked across his skin.

Cat quickly uses a needle to draw some blood from the teen before handing it over to Umino. “Get settled on the chair. I’ll only be a few minutes,” Umino says where he’s busy mixing the blood into his tattooing ink, chakra spiking a little as he works.

The teen settles in the padded chair, placing his right arm on the rest. Cat comes around and straps the arm down at the wrist and elbow. More straps go around other parts of his body, holding him in place. “This will be painful. This is to ensure you don’t accidentally hurt Umino-san and ensure the seal isn’t tattooed wrong. If you need something to bite down on, there is a leather strap right here,” Cat explains softly, pointing, and the teen nods.

Finally, Umino finishes and drags the table a little closer, tools set up beside him, a pair of gloves on his hands. “Ready, ANBU-san?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, looking prepared for the worst.

Smiling apologetically, Umino grabs his tools and gets to work. He shaves the arm, removing any fine hairs before he studies the arm closely, fingers running along it before he finds what he’s looking for a uses a pen to mark a dot on the arm. Chakra swells around him, his own seals lighting up and then he gets to work tapping the ink into his skin.

It’s a slow process. Even with advances in technology for tattooing, tattooing seals is done the old way, the wooden needles carved from the same trees that are used for chakra induction paper, allowing the tattooist to channel their chakra through them.

The teen lasts a good amount of time compared to previous recruits, but eventually the pain gets to him and he bites on the strap to not cry out. Having not only your skin, but chakra coils tattooed is excruciating. They should know, they went through it themselves.

It goes on for two hours before Umino finishes the seal with one final tap and the seal sinks into the teen who shudders before stilling. Umino sits back with a huff, drenched in sweat and a little pale from working with his chakra for so long on such a fine piece. The chakra control he needs to do this is ridiculous and on par with the medics.

Wiping his brow, Umino sits further back, letting the teen catch his breath as he takes a drink from a canteen. Finished, he sits forward again, hands moving through seals and they start to glow green as he uses an iryo jutsu to reduce the swelling and heal some of the damage.

“Not done yet, but the worst is over,” he murmurs to the exhausted teen who nods his head against the head rest. Reaching for his things once more now that he’s healed the arm enough to keep working, he pulls out a more modern tattoo gun and the inks used for the ANBU mark that is used to hide the seal.

He gets to work covering up the seal with the mark, being careful to ensure every bit of the seal is hidden under the mark. Finally, he’s done and Cat starts to unstrap the new ANBU member as Umino starts to clean up his things.

Once the teen is up, Umino slathers it with some healing cream and wraps it in a light bandage. “Keep it covered for a few hours and keep it clean afterwards. It should be healed fully in a couple of days, but if it needs to be looked at, one of the medics here can check it over,” he instructs. The teen nods, absorbing his words. “Good luck and I hope you never need to use my seal,” Umino says sadly before he stands and grabs his stuff. He murmurs a few words to Cat who nods and then heads out of the room.

Cat leads the teen away towards a different area and they’re left alone in the lounge to continue waiting until their on call stent runs out or they’re called out on a mission.

~*~

Iruka feels the faint tug on his wards, even if he doesn’t hear the door open or the silent steps behind him. Which is why he doesn’t try to stab the person behind him as long, lanky arms curve around his wait, pulling him back into a warm chest.

Iruka huffs faintly in amusement. “I take it you were watching me work,” he asks Kakashi as he leans his head aside to let the jounin bury his face in his neck and shoulder.

Kakashi hums and Iruka feels only warm skin, no mask up, shuddering as teeth graze his skin. Warm hand slip under his shirt, making his stomach jump. “Kakashi,” he murmurs.

“What can I say, you’re sexy when you work,” Kakashi huffs against his skin with a smirk pressed there.

Iruka shudders again before he takes the knife in his hand puts it under Kakashi’s chin, pushing him up warningly. “Kakashi, I’m making dinner,” he reminds him where the veggies he was cutting up are waiting for him.

“I’m hungry for something else,” Kakashi says, tightening his arms even as he keeps his head up to not be stabbed.

“After dinner,” Iruka says pointedly and Kakashi pouts, but slowly unwinds from around Iruka. Iruka at least turns to face him and presses a kiss to his mouth, pulling back before Kakashi can catch him and ignore his demand. “Get the rice please?” he asks.

“Fine,” he huffs, but still does as asked.

~*~

Iruka hums softly, lying on his back as Kakashi curls around him, arm thrown over his stomach, legs intertwined as they cuddle together. His skin jumps as a callused finger traces deftly along one of the seals on his chest.

He’d never planned on this path, being one of the few seal experts left in the village and the only one currently who can still tattoo seals and clan markings. Despite being a chuunin, he has S-rank clearance and access to clan records that few outsiders could ever see. Not that he practices his trade all the often. Usually, he works at the academy or the mission desk, only called in to tattoo when needed, or a clan scheduling his services in advance when one of their people comes of age.

He does regular tattoos too, mainly tattooing civilians, though some shinobi do get them. Usually, shinobi don’t want identifying markers unless they’re clan marks, but some do and he’s one of the few they trust to mark them.

Iruka’s eyes are drawn up Kakashi’s arm to the only mark he willingly allowed on his body. He hadn’t been the one to lay that seal or tattoo. Hamachi-sensei, his mentor, had done Kakashi’s, Iruka still in the academy at the time. Still, he runs a light finger over the tattoo, feeling the faint texture from the seal beneath it. He prays daily that Kakashi never has to use it, but he doesn’t say anything out loud to him, Kakashi well aware of his thoughts.

“How were your students today?” Kakashi asks softly in the quiet and Iruka smiles, telling him about the antics they got up to.