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The Senju knows, everyone knows, that the Uchiha take those born with red eyes, never to be seen or heard from again. Whether due to jealousy or distain; for daring to have red eyes, attempting to imitate the sharingan, some theorized, but no one knows for sure.
So when Senju Tobirama is born with red eyes and a target on his back, Hashirama swears to protect him from the Uchiha.
They did their best to hide it, with bandages and masks and seals, but the world has a way of reducing the best laid precautions to dust. It starts with a long week, back to back missions, followed by a call to battle. They’d weathered this routine before, and they’d endure it again to protect their home.
Tobirama knew he was in trouble when he felt his sealed disguise falter. He didn’t know what was interfering with it, but he didn’t have time to reapply it, too busy dodging Izunas flurry of swipes. An attack that suddenly swerved away once Izuna realized what he saw. Conflicting emotions swirled in spinning wide eyes, that Tobirama was quick to divert his gaze from, looking down to protect his eyes from the bright sun. But mixed emotions or not, Izuna opened his mouth on reflex, sending up a call for all to hear.
“Blessed!”
Tobirama didn’t feel very blessed when he bolted through grasping hands in a rush to reach Hashirama. In fact, he felt rather cursed when he watched Hashirama drop like a stone. He couldn’t be dea- his dreaded thought didn't have time to finish before his body was sent tumbling by a full body tackle.
Stupid. He couldn't see through the mass of hair blocking his vision, but he'd recognize Madaras chakra anywhere. He was desperate, pinned beneath Madara, writhing like a feral beast, clawing and snarling, dread growing with every failed escape. Water senbon nicked Madaras neck, his elbow digging into his unprotected underarm, but for every hit that connected, two more didn't. It wasn't enough. He couldn’t stop the other hands from reaching him. Couldn’t stop the rope they bound his hands and feet with, or twined between his fingers to prevent ninjutsu. He did nearly bite Madaras finger off when he attempted to gag him, and felt that vindictive pettiness drown when two more aided him in completing the task.
He was bound and gagged and carried away, the Senju unable to follow with Hashirama out of commission and Tobirama taken. That didn’t stop Touka from trying, but the Senju couldn’t afford to lose another fighter, and were forced to drag her back.
Hashirama woke up from the genjutsu to a missing brother and orders to leave him to his fate. He couldn't believe his ears, the wold going quiet as he looked at his father. The Senju head was firm and cold, as if Tobiramas death were a forgone conclusion already left to the past. Hashirama felt something snap in his chest, even as he pushed himself off the bed.
His brother wasn’t dead. Madara wouldn’t do that, right? He had to hope. Or else- Butsuma was saying something. Telling him to stand down. Hashirama didn't listen. He was almost out the door when a rough hand grabbed him.
"I said stand down, Hashirama." It was a bark that on any other day Hashirama would adhere to. Any other day he would nod his head and follow along, or share a look with Tobi- Today, he only looked at the hand slowing him down, his fingers twitched, an aborted reflex to break the hand holding him. His father said to leave Tobi to his fate. Hashirama met dark eyes with a smile, he didn't have time to be held up here. His father was getting rather old, wasn't he?
Hashirama left the main house with only the clothes on his back, his armor had been stripped before he woke up, but with the forest surrounding him he didn't feel bereft. He could hear Touka angrily stalking near the gate, only the sharp eyes of the guards and an order from the clan head, he assumed, stopping her from leaving. With their focus on Touka, they didn't notice Hashirama slipping out of the compound.
Madara felt Hashiramas chakra approaching the compound, and rose incredulously. He didn’t sense anyone else, but not even Hashirama was stupid enough to show up alone, right?
Quickly throwing his armor back on, Madara went to confront him.
They found him in plain clothes, no armor in sight, still dusty from battle but his face was calm. The squad with Madara spread out around the clearing, surrounding them. Hashirama didn't even glance at them, focus solely on Madara.
“Please return my brother, Madara.”
Hashirama held out his hands, as if Madara could hand him over right then. There was something odd about his tone, but it still dripped with hopefulness. And like always Madara refused to answer that hope. He sighed, “I can’t do that Hashirama, you know that. Now return home before-“
“I wasn’t asking.” Hashirama interrupted, his mouth falling flat, a seriousness and intensity he didn’t usually show taking over. He looks like Tobirama- a flitting thought before he felt his chakra swell and spread, engulfing the clearing and beyond. The sun dimming until it felt like the forest at night.
“My last brother, Madara. I won’t let you have him.”
Madara felt conflicted. Dread pooling in his gut at the thought of fighting so close to home, knowing others would probably fall in the crossfire. Blood rushed in his veins at the thought of actually fighting with Hashirama.
Until the ground churned and wood erupted to swallow the compound. Roots winding around their bodies tight, like they bound his brother.
Branches grew underneath and in between his armor, twisting it and mangling the overlapping metal. He could only watch in horror as the wood regrew faster than he could burn it.
Basically, Hashirama wasn’t playing games and took the whole clan hostage with mokuton. Then proceeded to search everywhere for Tobirama.
He paused only for a second once he found his brother, locked behind bars in a cell, he still couldn’t feel him, chakra bound. The absence of cool water tore at his chest, Tobi was a sensor, he needed to get them off-
“Anija?”
“Tobi.” He reached for him, relief engulfing him as he finally held his brother in his arms.