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Tobirama stares at her face in the mirror, inspecting herself critically.
Face painting is a skill that she's never bothered to acquire, along with so many of the others necessary to present herself as a woman. The ability to manage the long sleeves of a furisode, the small steps kimono require... such things take time to learn and she never chose to spend effort on them.
Not when her days and nights were better spent sharpening herself into a blade that could shield her clan and destroy her enemies. Ninjutsu and kenjutsu are demanding masters, as was her father, and she cannot count the nights when she fell into her futon without even a bath.
Being a woman just seemed too hard, too difficult, and she admires people like her cousin who can manage it, but the role did not fit her life and she never bothered to shape herself to fill it.
No. It's always been easier to wear hakama and armour, to cut off her hair and to wield a sword, than to try and pretend to be something that she is not.
Izuna though... he fills the role - both roles - seemingly effortlessly.
She's seen him on the battlefield, commanding with a man's voice, but also at court, playing the noblewoman. He welcomes guests who visit the Uchiha as the highest ranking lady of the clan, but also matches her in the sparring field without care for his clothing or skin.
There, on equal ground, they are a match.
Like her, he only cares to win.
Peace has given her the opportunity to observe him more closely though, and she's come to realise that Izuna is never truly one or the other. Instead he is forever both, drawing upon two different sets of skills to blend them into a seamless whole.
In that, he is more unique than even Tōka-nee.
As such, when he came to her afire with outrage that she had never revealed her sex, she was both surprised and not. For someone dedicated enough to master all these disparate skills, it must have seemed like a deliberate flaw left unremedied and she'd wondered if he would summarily dismiss her as his rival to find another.
Instead he'd been offended on her behalf, assuming that she'd been forced to take on the role of a man by her family. Reassured that it was not so - Anija's flood of tears as he bemoaned the lack of a cute younger sister was very convincing - Izuna shocked everyone by proposing to teach her.
She's still somewhat dubious of the project but he was certainly correct that she should not dismiss her options without experimental data, and to call upon the experience of a trusted expert is no small thing.
Still...
"I look like myself," she raises her eyebrows at her reflection. "I see no difference."
"Believe me, anyone you meet will definitely see the difference." Izuna watches her with a satisfied air, much as an artist might look at a painting. "And you'll notice it in the reactions you get."
"Will they be reactions I want however?" She squints at him, trying to judge the truth of his words.
"Only you can decide that." He holds out his hand, sharp nails delicately painted. "After all, isn't that why you agreed to this?"
Which is true.
"Alright, then present me to your brother and he can be the judge." Tobirama rolls her eyes as she lets him lift her to her feet, sure that Izuna's predictions will fail. "I sincerely doubt this will proceed as you think."
"That's what you believe." His wink is both mischievous and confident. "But you Senju have terrible luck and I am very much relying on it to win our bet."
Tobirama follows her friend but she can't help the smirk that paints itself across her lips.
Anija's luck has always been bad, that is true, but not all of the Senju are so unfortunate and she believes in herself - even in such unfamiliar territory as this.
Izuna's skills may be unparalleled, but not even he can truly make her look like a woman.