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The Uchiha-Senju household, back when Jōki was just eleven years old...
The night was peaceful, the full moon casting a soft, silvery glow across the bedroom through the curtainless window. Tobirama lay in bed beside Izuna, their bodies finally relaxed after a long, exhausting day.
"Izuna... did you ever think we’d have moments like this?" Tobirama asked softly, his fingers gently tracing through his partner’s dark hair.
Izuna smiled, resting his hand against Tobirama’s chest. "No... honestly, I thought I’d die on a battlefield long before I ever got to experience something like this," he replied, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "But I'm happy here. With you."
Tobirama leaned in and kissed Izuna tenderly, their lips meeting in a quiet, familiar declaration of love.
But just as the kiss began to deepen, a trembling voice shattered the serenity of the night.
"P-Papa... I had a nightmare..."
The bedroom light clicked on, revealing an eleven-year-old Jōki standing in the doorway. His face was pale, and his eyes were wide with distress. Tobirama flushed a deep, intense crimson, instantly pulling away from Izuna, who couldn't help but let out a soft, amused chuckle.
"W-What kind of nightmare, sweetheart?" Izuna asked gently, sitting up in bed and offering a reassuring smile to comfort his son.
Jōki swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words as his eyes darted between them.
"One where you two were... like this," Jōki muttered, looking visibly uncomfortable. "If you'll excuse me, I’m going to go... clear my head."
With that, he quickly backed out of the room, leaving Tobirama and Izuna alone once more.
Tobirama let out a heavy sigh and sank back into the pillows, burying his burning face in his hands. "This always happens to us," he groaned, his blush refusing to fade.
Izuna leaned over, pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead. "You're lucky we weren't doing anything worse."
Tobirama nodded grimly. Silently, they adjusted themselves under the covers, curling up together in a warm embrace.
Meanwhile, out in the hallway, Jōki stood frozen, his mind racing with thoughts of his parents. A bitter wave of resentment and jealousy washed over him. Why did they always seem so impossibly happy together, while he barely got to spend any quality time with Izuna?
He marched back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. Flipping onto his back, he stared up at the ceiling with a deep frown. He craved that exact same connection, that same effortless closeness with his papa, without constantly feeling like an unwanted third wheel.
"I wish Tobirama would just disappear," he muttered into the quiet room, his small fists clenching tightly. Jealousy bubbled fiercely inside his chest—a raw, protective envy over his papa, and a desperate longing to be the one holding his attention.