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Butsuma sternly controls the urge to fidget, uncomfortable with the impractical clothing he's been dressed in.
As unlike sensible shinobi pants as can be, wrapped tight to the calf in order not to allow enemies a hand hold, these stupid court garments are both long and heavy, containing enough material for an entire family, much less a single person like himself. They're also ridiculously expensive, and a loan he couldn't figure out how to refuse. He at least managed to protest enough that he wasn't given them outright, but that's all he could do.
If only he could go home!
The more he thinks about it, the more he becomes sure he was completely the wrong choice for this mission. He's the heir and old enough to sign contracts, yes, but dealing with nobles is... complicated. He honestly doesn't have the diplomatic skills to negotiate the tricky currents of the imperial court.
To be fair to otousan though, it wasn't actually expected for him to do so. Accept the contract, get in, get out, that was his job and Butsuma maintains he could have done it... if only the princess hadn't spotted him.
And... taken a liking to him.
Why he doesn't know - a shinobi, rough from the road and barely clean enough to tread on the palace's tatami?
Insanity!
But no, see him she did, and now... now she won't let him leave.
She's not going to marry him of course, as a shinobi he's as far below her as the dirt which isn't allowed to touch her feet, but being an awkward ornament is not the kind of life he wants to live. All he wants to do is take his signed contract and go home without offending anyone! It really shouldn't be so hard, but it unfortunately is, leaving him stuck in this opulent room and failing to properly pour tea for the princess who's keeping him hostage.
A shadow falls over the open window and Butsuma looks up to see the last face he ever expected.
Tajima ducks, instincts as sharp as always, dodging the teapot Butsuma hurls at him before lunging for the princess. There's a choice to be made, right here, right now, and Butsuma makes it, backing into the closest corner and fingering the kunai he hid in these stupidly full sleeves.
She's not his client after all, and he's not being paid to protect her.
Instead of slitting her throat though, Tajima merely grabs her face, squeezing her cheeks between calloused palms and forcing her to meet his red eyes. A heartbeat, two, three... and she collapses in his arms like a puppet whose puppeteer has died, limp as a plucked flower.
"Come on!" Tajima's eyes fade to their usual black, and he jerks his head impatiently at the window. "We've got to go!"
Between staying here and being blamed for whatever Tajima just did to the princess, or leaving with his oldest enemy, Butsuma knows which one he picks, no matter that the second option has a reasonably high probability of stabbing being involved.
Which doesn't mean he doesn't have questions.
"Why are you here?" Butsuma whispers as he follows the Uchiha heir out onto the roof, both of them running silently across the tiles.
"Your father hired me to get you out." Tajima says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and with a little thought Butsuma realises it is.
"If anyone caught you, they'd assume you were just spoiling my mission." Butsuma climbs up the outermost wall and leaps off, Tajima on his heels, racing for the protection of the forest. "Because our clans are rivals."
"Exactly." Tajima turns away as soon as they're out of sight of the palace, towards the lands claimed by his clan, but Butsuma grabs his wrist before he can disappear.
"Wait." Butsuma doesn't want to put himself any further into his rival's debt than he already is, but there is still a question which must be answered. "What did you show her? I need to know, for the future."
"Oh, I made her think you pick your nose." There's enough moonlight to see Tajima's smirk, despite the shadows cast by the leaves over their heads. "In public."
Butsuma can only imagine what his own face looks like, and it's not good.
"Also, you eat it." Tajima's eyes spin into the Sharingan in order to better memorise his expression, and Butsuma curses the day he met this boy.
"... that's it, I'm definitely going to kill you now." Butsuma points his kunai at his rival. "You're dead the next time we meet."
"Good luck with that!" Tajima disappears into the trees, laughing, and Butsuma swears under his breath.
"You're horrible!" He yells, the need to vent his feelings overriding shinobi caution.
"Horribly good looking!" Tajima's voice wafts back on the wind, and Butsuma can't let that opinion stand.
"Egotistical oaf!" He makes a rude gesture, hoping Tajima can still see him, before turning his own steps towards home.
The sooner he gets back to his own territory the better.
This means war.