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sjhanny2000 · 1 year

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Hidden Within the Arrangement (9/?)

A/N: Hi everyone, sorry for such the long break between chapters! I have recently joined an exercise class three days a week and along with my full time job as a teacher, I've simply been exhausted. It doesn't help that I've been experiencing some the worst writer block in my life. It's just been hard to feel happy with the work I've been churning out lately. With that aside, please enjoy the extra long chapter as an apology for my extended absence!

Word Count: 8.87K+

Warning(s): mentioned/referenced couples violence, mentioned/referenced child death and abuse, angst, some foul language, misunderstandings galore, arranged marriage, etc.

Taglist: @tsukihimeyfan

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From a young age, Hashirama knew he was never the sharpest kunai. In fact, many over the years considered him to be intellectually challenged, having always been far more interested in helping tend to the gardens or play games rather than learning from musty scrolls from even mustier elders. Father never was pleased to learn that Hashirama had skipped yet another lesson to swing from the trees, nor when he slacked off in his training, but for some reason unknown to his young self, he had no interest in what others around him deemed important. All he wanted to do was explore, make flower crowns with baby Touka, snuggle in mother’s lap beside the hearth, and run around in his grandmother’s cabbage patch. He had been happy and content until one day, in the midst of the leaves turning, Hashirama noticed that his mother’s lap was growing smaller and her stomach larger, hard and firm. When he had asked her why, the Hatake woman paused in her knitting and gifted him with a fond smile, placing a tender hand on her swollen belly.

“Well, sometime in winter, I will be having a baby,” Mother gently took hold of his tiny palm and placed it against the taut surface, his chocolate irises growing wide at feeling something briskly skim the skin beneath her stomach. “And you, my little sapling, will have a little brother or sister to play with.”

Though it was years ago, Hashirama could remember how excited he had been to be a big brother, an anija as his mother dubbed him during one of the cold winter nights he had been allowed to sleep with her and father. He toddled after his mother everywhere, asking question upon question and offering her flowers he had picked from the nearby meadow so they could decorate the bedroom before the baby came. Often, he even found himself talking to his unborn sibling whilst mother slept or while she knitted, telling his otouto or imouto everything he had done throughout the day and more. Touka sometimes joined in his mindless chatter when they had playdates or her mother needed to attend to something without juggling a far too curious toddler like she was. The two of them together would learn about what needed to be done before a baby arrived and everything that came after their arrival, including how to hold one, that it needed far more sleep than they did, and that they wouldn’t be ready to play games with them until they were a bit older. Still, Hashirama was excited and far too young to understand the weight his mother had been under at the time.

He understood it quite well when he found her sobbing over a bundle of white mere hours after his new sibling had been delivered. It had been early in the morning that very day when he crawled out of bed, sleepily rubbing his eye whilst stumbling messily into the kitchen where mother should have been making breakfast, only to find his grandmother, aunt, and various other women of the clan bustling about in an anxious hurry. Before he had been able to even question what was going on, his father was upon him, stern faced and unforgiving, guiding his three year old self away from the women and onto the back engawa where various men, including his uncle and the male clan elders, lounged about, cups of sake poured and thick smoke slinking leisurely from their pipes. Hours must have gone by before Hashirama asked where his mother was and when he did, Touka’s father came to pause in his recent whittling project a few feet away, a playful laugh escaping the shinobi as an eager grin on the man’s face.

“No one told you, boy? Your mother is having the baby you have been obsessing over!”

How excited he had been, hearing that his new otouto or imouto would finally be arriving after so long! What would they look like? Would they like him? Would they like plants like he did? Would they also dislike eating pickled herring? Oh he had so many questions to ask!

As dusk approached, high pitched cries echoed from deep inside, cheers of triumph and celebration escaping the group of men surrounding him, prompting him to cheer as well though he had no clue as to why. Pipes were relit, cups refilled, and the joy flowing from the men was contagious, so much so that Hashirama hadn’t caught the look of displeased hatred fixed upon his father’s face as he appeared on the engawa. The man made no move to stop the moment he stepped over the threshold, passing the men without a word whilst they followed him with questions of their own, leaving his young self all on his lonesome.

Grandmother eventually came out to fetch him, her dark eyes holding an emotion he had been unable to put a name to as she led him into the house, her aging hand grasping his youthful one. Just as they reached the door, he could hear his mother crying, which prompted him to panic simply because mother never cried-!

Moving to cradle his earth-toned cheeks in her calloused palms, grandmother kneeled down to meet him at eye level, face stern yet comforting. “Your mother needs you to be strong right now and not ask questions, Hashirama. Can you do that for her?”

If his mother needed him, then he would do anything for her and he had told the woman adamantly so! With his fiery admission, grandmother let out a sigh he couldn’t tell was out of hopelessness for his grandson or out of relief and moved to open the door, quietly guiding Hashirama inwards without another word except “hush.” Knowing better than to make the old woman cross, Hashirama did as he was told, but it was hard to do so when he came upon the scene set before him. Clearly exhausted, his sobbing mother sat in the center of the room, a bundle of pristine white cradled protectively against her hardly clothed chest whilst she rocked back and forth.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry! Amaterasu, Raijin forgive me!”

“Mama?”

He had been unable to stop himself from speaking at the moment, so confused and scared at the situation at hand because wasn’t everyone supposed to be happy for the new baby? Father had spoken various times how he would finally have the precautionary heir he had been waiting for and mother had never spoken badly about the baby, not once! Never had Hashirama realized at that age just why his mother had been crying and his father furious, the remaining adults still present being sullen and hesitant to speak. However, he knew something was wrong the second his mother’s reddened eyes met his own, to see just how distraught the unshakeable kunoichi was. Fear clouded those obsidian irises, an emotion Hashirama had never seen in his mother’s eyes, and he couldn’t help but toddle over and plop down right beside her, not saying another word. After a few long seconds of quiet, the smallest, palest hand Hashirama had ever seen appeared from the snowy bundle in his mother’s arms, a tiny, adorable squeak following soon after.

While Hashirama wasn’t the sharpest kunai ever, he did have enough common sense to realize that his mother was holding the new baby, his new imouto or otouto, and a rush of giddy excitement had filled him with a gasp. “Is that the baby?!”

In an instant, his mother’s fearful apprehension seemed to melt away, a weak but ever present smile growing on her cracked, pale lips whilst she adjusted her hold on the bundle. “It is. Would you like to meet them?”

Nodding vigorously, Hashirama was practically vibrating with excitement, only for such a feeling to be eclipsed by that of utter awe the moment his mother pushed away a bit of the blanket to reveal the person he had been waiting to meet for months now. Chubby, rosy red cheeks contrasted perfectly against the baby’s skin that was pale as a ghost, wild tufts of pearly white covering the top of their tiny head, so pure and beautiful.

“Hashi, I want you to meet your new otouto, Tobirama,” Hashirama’s already racing heart began to sprint faster upon hearing he had a baby brother, just like he had wanted! “Tobirama, this is your anija, Hashirama. He’s been so excited to meet you, little one.”

With wide, awe-filled eyes, Hashirama couldn’t help but smile, moving to stand on his tippy toes to gain a better view of his new brother. “Hi otouto, I’m Hashirama, I’m your anija!”

The rosy cheeked infant let out a hardly audible coo, one soft as downy feathers and sweet as permission jelly, and Hashirama couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped his lips at seeing alabaster eyelashes flutter open. They opened just enough to reveal neverending pools of merlot, the young boy’s irises of freshly toiled earth searching the tiny ones of his brother with curiosity; he had never seen anything or anyone like him, especially amongst their fellow clansmen. Tanned fingers cautiously snuck across the bundle of snow, the toddler watching in wondrous anxiety as his right index finger came to gently poke the flesh of Tobirama’s tiny palm, hoping to garner some reaction from the newborn. Chubby, pearly white fingers clumsily curled around Hashirama’s extended digit mere moments after the older boy made contact with the younger, a smile as bright as the summer sun blooming on the toddler’s face. Turning his attention to their observing mother, who watched on in relieved fondness, Hashirama couldn’t help but beam. “Did you see, mama?! Otouto is holding my finger!”

Mother let out a soft chuckle, the Hatake woman moving to hold his brother out to him, a knowing look in her dark eyes. “Would you like to hold Tobirama for yourself, sweet sapling?”

“Yeah!”

“Hold still, now. There you go.” Careful in ensuring Tobirama was held correctly within Hashirama’s arms, mother set the hours-old infant into the toddler’s lap with a smile.

Hashirama could only gaze down at his otouto in wonder the moment he was settled into his arms, taking in all his peculiar and tiny features because how couldn’t he? His baby brother was perfect.

“Hashirama.”

Earth colored irises met desperate, stern obsidian, mother never breaking eye contact with him.

“You must promise me, Hashirama, that no matter what may occur between the two of you, you will protect Tobirama from harm.” Brushing strays locks of chocolate from Hashirama’s line of vision, the woman remained steadfast in sobering seriousness, lips thin and unforgiving. “He will be your greatest ally and dearest friend, even in times of turmoil and strife, so you must take care of him and treat him well. Do you understand?”

Not truly understanding what their mother was asking of him, Hashirama had had no issue in replying in the way he did. “I promise mama! I’ll protect Tobirama, no matter what!”

He would have never made that damn promise if he had known just how difficult Tobirama would make for him to keep his word. From birth, Hashirama and Tobirama were opposites of one another in everything that seemed to matter, whether that be looks, intelligence, personality, and so on. Whilst Hashirama was loud and messy, Tobirama was quiet and calculated even as a baby, and while he himself was a healthy, robust child, the white haired child was frail and sickly throughout the beginning of his childhood. Due to such frailty, mother would spend most of her time tending to Tobirama, ensuring he was well fed and clothed at all times and spending countless hours with the boy that she failed to spend with Hashirama, reading him a plethora of scrolls that bored the brunette to the core. It left Hashirama to play on his own, which wasn’t supposed to be the case anymore because Tobirama was to be his new playmate, the otouto that followed him everywhere and loved to play in the garden and get dirty! Every time Hashirama tried to roughhouse like he had seen other brothers do within the clan, mother or one of the house maids were upon them in a flash, scolding him thoroughly whilst plucking Tobirama up from the tatami floor with stern glares.

“What have we told you about playing roughly with Tobirama?! He-!”

“-can’t handle it!”

Yes, physically, Tobirama was quite feeble as a small child, but it was evident fairly on into his life that he was an intellectual prodigy in the making. The pair of them had been playing on the engawa with their mother hanging laundry nearby, Hashirama nursing a few bruises from training while he showed his otouto his newest technique for flower crowns. The one that had been present on his cheek must have caught the freshly turned six month old’s attention somehow because before the toddler realized what was happening, Tobirama was crawling towards him with worry in those vibrant merlot irises of his and much to Hashirama’s surprise, the baby jerkily placed a comforting hand over the aching flesh. It was only moments later that mother was upon them, a rare grin of admiring pride on her lips whilst she pulled a quiet Tobirama into her arms, cooing obsessively over how smart her little Tobi was and not paying a shred of attention to him. Such behavior only continued as Tobirama continued to grow, his otouto standing at the mere age of eight months while Hashirama had been eleven months, the albino’s first word of “Hashi” following just a short month later. While he should have been excited to have his otouto’s first word be his name, Hashirama hadn’t been able to stop the bitter jealousy filling his veins, such a feeling only increasing when mother praised the baby for his accomplishment.

Even with these feelings, Hashirama loved his otouto, his joy in spending time with Tobirama doubling when mother was nowhere in sight and he had the free reign to do as he pleased. Whenever he was free from training, such free time having steadily been shrinking following Tobirama’s birth, Hashirama was with Tobirama, telling him about his adventures with the other clan children or how father had been particularly rough during training that day. By the time Tobirama’s first year was rolling around, the pair of them were venturing the garden together and watching the koi play in the pond within their grandmother’s courtyard, Touka often joining them on their endeavors with her ever serious attitude. Moments spent cuddled together on hard nights when father made mother cry and bleed or with Tobirama riding on his back whilst they once again ran away from a flock of angry chickens ate away at the feelings of jealousy, the two of them slowly growing closer with the passing of time. Grandmother would call them two peas in a pod, a strange emotion in her eyes every time she uttered it, and how eager he had been to finally have the otouto that did as he did, not obtaining all of mother’s attention and being interested in following him wherever he went. They were exactly what Hashirama imagined when it came to being brothers, attached at the hip with a bond that could never be severed. His child self was too optimistic for the bloodthirsty world they lived in.

“Again!”

As the seasons changed and the two of them grew, Hashirama found his shinobi training intensifying, such changes becoming even more evident following his fifth birthday. Butsuma was a strict and unforgiving taskmaster, eager to tear Hashirama down at any given opportunity and never hesitating to beat him into a sobbing mess of quivering submission. Any time spent with Tobirama dwindled during this period of their shared lives, Butsuma having no interest in interacting with the bright eyed toddler that he steadfastly proclaimed was not his own blood, one of the many excuses he spouted endlessly when he beat their mother black and blue. Still, Hashirama found himself feeling unhappy and unfulfilled, never excited to learn how to properly throw a kunai or how to kill an enemy in one move; he would have much rather been playing with Tobirama and Touka or running through the woods in search of adventure, enjoying everything nature and the world had to give-.

“You stupid boy!”

A loud crack filled the air the moment the back of father’s hand struck Hashirama's left cheek, the force behind the strike sending his small and gangly self sprawling to the ground with a cry. In an instant, Hashirama moved to clutch the aching flesh within his palms, tears blurring his vision whilst he looked up at the monster of a man standing before him.

Senju Butsuma, in all his snarling glory, gazed at him with eyes identical to his own, a maddened rage consuming the clan head’s dark irises whilst he loomed menacingly above the young boy. “Tears are for the weak, Hashirama, and I’ll be damned if my heir is seen weeping like a goddamn infant! Get up!”

“I’m sorry, father! I’ll do better, I promise,” Unable to stop the tears from falling, a yelp escaped the five year old as Butsuma’s cold, calloused hand took hold of his arm, forcefully yanking Hashirama to his feet. “Let go, father! Please!”

“ENOUGH!” Butsuma’s free hand wheeled backwards for another harsh slap, the crazed clan head frothing at the mouth. With his body being held in place by the man’s tight grip, all Hashirama could do was screw his eyes shut and wait helplessly for the scarred limb swung to strike him once again.

*Shing*

“Argh!”

In a disorienting blur, the hand gripping Hashirama’s arm was gone, sending the five year old sprawling to the ground with a cry of surprise, roughly falling backwards onto the dusty training field on his behind. Dark eyes snapping open at neck breaking speeds at the sudden change, Hashirama hurriedly glanced around, only to see Butsuma clutching his right hand against his chest, the appendage weeping a steady stream of crimson from the kunai that was now lodged through his palm. Before Hashirama could even react, a small figure white as snow stepped between the two of them, their thin and gangly frame swamped in Hashirama’s hand-me-downs. What absolute terror filled his veins when his brain finally caught up with the situation set before him, to see two year old Tobi standing between him and Butsuma, arms spread out and feet parted in a protective stance, placing himself in the crossfire.

Only to add insult to injury, Tobirama in all of his craziness stood his ground against the man that was triple his height. “Leave anija alone!”

“Tobi no,” Hashirama moved to stand but it was as if time was in slow motion, reaching his hand outward to pull Tobirama away from harm.

Butsuma let out a growl of a monster, the aging brunette taking hold of the kunai’s hilt with murderous intent in those hellish eyes of his. “You little bastard, I’ll slit your throat-!”

Time slowed to a painful crawl as the man pulled the weapon from his palm and moved to step forward, wielding the kunai with the intent to kill Tobirama, sweet, brilliant Tobirama. He couldn’t let his otouto die-!

Protect otouto…

The kunai was within Tobirama's exposed throat when suddenly, the momentum behind Butsuma’s cowardice act came to an abrupt stand still and the air surrounding them grew silent. No one was able to speak, Hashirama and Tobirama out of shock but Butsuma? A thick branch gagged the monster of a human standing before them, vines wrapped around the horrified man’s limbs in an unforgiving hold of steadfast restraint. Hashirama had been unable to do anything but silently cry, something unfamiliar and powerful coursing underneath his skin as he had watched plants erupt from the ground beneath Butsuma’s feet and restrain the clan head in a matter of seconds, hand outreached and shaking.

“Anija.” His attention snapped to the left to see a worried Tobirama kneeling beside him, the toddler clearly having moved at some point in the chaos. Tobirama wasted no time in grabbing his extended arm with surprisingly gentle hands and lowering it into his lap, voice leveled and comforting to Hashirama’s ears. “You are safe, anija. I am here.”

That was the first of many times that Tobirama would step in-between their father and Hashirama. It was also the first time Hashirama’s mokuton awakened, a development that proved to be both a curse and a blessing for him over time. After that day, their father deemed Tobirama old enough to train much to their mother’s utmost displeasure, the woman pleading with Butsuma until a harsh slap silenced her pleas.

From that day on, the two of them were trained alongside one another and much to Hashirama’s gradual envious horror, Tobirama repeatedly proved himself to be the better shinobi in every way that matter. Ninjutsu, taijutsu, genjutsu, you name and Tobirama was excelling in it, his otouto facing Butsuma’s arduous training regiments and scathing words without a single tear and a kunai in hand. With the awakening of the mokuton, Hashirama’s training doubled and many times, he was forced to face Tobirama in combat practice, which almost always led to him collapsing in defeat and the albino standing victorious. Butsuma would verbally and physically beat Hashirama for every defeat he met at Tobirama’s skilled hands and every time his otouto stepped in to defend him, the boy would promptly be beaten as well. Every time this happened, Hashirama’s promise to his mother echoed loudly within his mind and his frustration with the younger boy would grow because he was the one that was supposed to be protecting, not Tobirama! His envy for Tobirama only grew when Butsuma would falsely praise the albino for his accomplishments to rub it in Hashirama’s face, and when their mother would coddle him with kisses and dusty scrolls and simply treat Hashirama’s wounds and hand him his study materials without a spoken word, her dark eyes conveying her desperation for him to do his work. Neither of his parents ever truly understood how hard school was for Hashirama, having been so full of energy and his attention so short that he was set up for failure from the very beginning, and neither were forgiving when they found him playing rather than studying.

“I paid for the finest tutors and what do you do?! Daydream and make flower crowns?!”

“Hashirama, please, just do your work! The faster you complete your lessons, the sooner you can join Tobirama and Touka in the courtyard-!”

While he knew their mother never meant to do it intentionally, her protectiveness over Tobirama would subtly place an ever growing wedge between her two eldest sons. Said wedge would grow larger with the arrivals of Kawarama and Itama, followed by Madoka’s birth and her and mother’s subsequent deaths, and Butsuma’s constant jeerings that seemed to always hit their mark no matter what Hashirama did to ignore it like Tobirama said to. His frustration and disdain for the war between their clan and the Uchiha grew with this wedge, Hashirama becoming far more resisting and combative because there was no point to the bloodshed the two clans were creating. He would complain to his otoutos about the stupidity of it all and all Tobirama would do is stare at him with suddenly unfeeling, dim merlot irises and tell him to be realistic and resume their training, settling his attention back on Kawarama and Itama’s stances. Tobirama had been the one to insist their two otoutos train so excessively, Butsuma watching on with feigned indifference while he watched his four sons fight one another in sadistic glee, and Hashirama did everything in his power to show the two young boys that the world had more to offer than crusty, old scrolls and war. Their opposing ideologies clashed far more often than Hashirama would care to remember, Tobirama acting if he was the all-knowing mother in a vain attempt to fill the hole left behind their poor mother and kami it angered Hashirama to no end, especially when Itama and Kawarama chose him over their eldest anija. At times, the envy Hashirama bore on his shoulders took shape in harsh words and brutal hits on the training field against the white haired boy; Tobirama, was a prodigy after all, he could handle himself in battle, even if the older boy accidentally snapped one of his bones amidst the chaos out of anger.

Their toxic relationship continued onwards as the war with the Uchiha worsened, Butsuma’s attitude following suit much to the four brothers’ chagrins simply because it meant even harsher training and far more beatings. Tobirama bore a brunt of the beatings by the age of nine and his twelve year old would keep his promise to their mother by healing the boy when his injuries were bad enough or when Butsuma took it a step too far. Aside from that, Hashirama lived out his days in search of some reprieve from the doom and gloom that came from the war and in that seemingly hopeless search, by the grace of the Kami, he came upon a raven haired boy skipping rocks on the opposite side of the Naka River.

Madara, as he would come to learn through playful teasing and mindless chats, was everything he had been looking for in those bleak days, their meetings being one of the few reasons Hashirama willingly rose from his futon every morning. They spoke about everything under the sun it seemed, from hobbies to their favorite foods, often skipping stones or adventuring up and down the Naka without a care in the world. Tobirama, ever the astute and nosy otouto that he was, of course had to notice the change in Hashirama’s overall attitude but much to his relief, the younger boy never had time to question him about it due to his mission load and his duties in the home. Hashirama would never openly admit it, but there were times that he thanked the Kami that Butsuma had saddled Tobirama with the responsibility of caring for Kawarama, Itama, and their household, simply because it meant he had more time to spend with Madara by the peaceful riverfront. Touka would berate him for abandoning Tobirama in said duties but such grievances disappeared from the front of his mind every time he saw Madara patiently waiting for him, that feigned look of indifference on the boy’s face. Outside of his studies, training, and the battlefield, Hashirama made himself scarce, aiming to avoid Butsuma’s foul temper and Tobirama’s nags in hopes of experiencing the freedom he had so desperately craved for years now. Then, in one of the worst battles between the Uchiha and Senju to date, Kawarama’s life was taken from them with the throw of a single spear and Hashirama could only wish he had spent more time with his otouto whilst he watched the dirt hit the surface of his brother’s far too small casket.

Kawarama’s death, no, murder , pushed Tobirama almost to the brink of madness and Hashirama could only watch on in silent, grieving aggravation as his otouto attempted to pretend he was smothering poor Itama in attention and protection like their mother once had done for the albino, yet he allowed Butsuma to speak so ill about his freshly buried son! Tobirama’s possessive behavior encouraged a wedge to appear between himself and Itama, the young boy clinging to Tobirama’s side like a leech instead of his like he should have, and all Hashirama could do was watch on in envious turmoil. Tobirama continued to be the perfect brother and the ever perfect cousin in Touka’s eyes, their lone surviving cousin looking down on Hashirama in disdain whilst placing oh-so-perfect Tobirama on a pedestal.

The same oh-so-perfect Tobirama who had garnered everyone’s attention on and off the battlefield, both good and bad, the one who seemed to slaughter countless lives without a single regret and carried on with blood soaked hands that dripped an endless trail behind him. His death count by the age of ten was in the hundreds and much to Hashirama’s utter horror, he followed every one of their father’s orders silently, cold and reserved like he had been since he was a baby.

“The wraith of the Senju, that is what your brother is, Hashirama-sama.”

“That thing is incapable of love, all demons are.”

“The only reason why I keep that demonic bastard alive is because of your continual failures, not only as a shinobi but as a man! A soulless, defective being serves as a better son than my own flesh and blood and all within the Land of Fire knows this!”

His friendship with Madara was the only thing that kept Hashirama sane in the months following Kawarama’s untimely demise. Topics of the world around them were banned and conversations about peace and harmony bore fruit between them, childish hope and fading innocence present. In a surprise show of emotion and vulnerability, Madara spoke of the people his family believed to be Amaterasu’s descendants, of how revered and well-loved the Blessed were because they were someone’s soulmate, of how he wished he could have been fortunate to have such a perfect person in his life. He had been so enraptured in the very idea of soulmates existing, Hashirama brought forth the question that would ruin everything.

“How do you tell the difference between who is a Blessed and who is not?”

Individuals born with skin and hair white as freshly fallen snow and eyes as red as spider lilies. Madara’s answer made Hashirama’s stomach curdle and his blood boil, his emotions clashing so dangerously within that he hadn't dared to speak in fear of saying something he couldn’t take back. He was forced to sit there and listen quietly as Madara went on and on about finding his Blessed, of meeting the one the Kami had fated him to fall in love with and take as his eventual spouse, someone that looked exactly like Tobirama. Hashirama never mentioned anything of Tobirama after that, refusing to even take the chance that Madara would discover that his otouto was one of his people’s sought after Blessed, that the boy was the one his best friend had thought about unknowingly for years. Tobirama had taken enough from him already, he wouldn’t allow him to take Madara from him as well.

Such a greedy mindset must have angered the Kami, so much that soon after the first anniversary of Kawarama’s passing, Itama joined their brother, mother, and sister in the Pure Lands. Itama’s death left the two remaining brothers broken and what little remained of Tobirama’s heart seemed to vanish from existence, the freshly turned eleven year old remaining silent in existential grief that couldn’t be remedied no matter what Touka and Hashirama did to do so. He was forced to watch perfect Tobirama slowly fall apart with each passing day and all Hashirama could do in his own grief filled mind was give the younger boy space to heal on his own. In his mourning of yet another brother dying, Hashirama numbly ventured to the river and Madara arrived not long after, and it was that day that they vowed they would create a place of peace and prosperity, a life in which their younger siblings deserved.

As their friendship continued to deepen and their training segments grew more advanced with every passing week, Hashirama found the will to at least attempt to salvage what little remained of his and Tobirama’s fractured relationship. The albino met him with initial skepticism but with time and smiles, the wedge between them shrank bit by bit; it had nearly been a decade since Hashirama could remember not feeling upset just by being in Tobirama’s presence. They trained together, ate together, soothed one another when the nightmares became too overwhelming, their relationship was finally what Hashirama had dreamed for all those years. Tobirama followed his lead and only corrected him when needed, acting as Hashirama’s rock and council in stressful times on and off the battlefield. Tobirama and him were finally brothers in more than just blood and how foolish he had been to believe that such developments had been without an ulterior motive.

Tobirama was Butsuma’s loyal, little soldier after all.

Within a day, a two year long friendship was burned to ashes, all because of his heartless monster of an otouto. Utilizing Tobirama as an innocent mean of spying on Hashirama, Butsuma learned of his friendship with Madara, and in turn came to know that the boy he met at the river was the eldest son of Uchiha Tajima, the clan head of the Senju’s mortal enemy. The truth of his best friend’s familial origins was something he had subconsciously suspected, seeing how Madara was able to use ninjutsu, genjutsu, and taijutsu, but seeing the truth set before him with Butsuma glaring at him and Tobirama hanging his head in submission like a dog made everything real. All of it turned to hell when Butsuma, in all his homicidal madness, ordered him to follow Madara and if he grew suspicious of Hashirama, to kill him, that very order sealing the fate of Hashirama and Madara’s friendship for good.

If Tobirama had just kept his damn mouth shut for once.

The next river rendezvous between Madara and himself was the final nail driven into the coffin that was his and Tobirama’s relationship, the hammer falling deafeningly against the head of the nail the moment Butsuma and the boy he once vowed to protect appeared with the intent to kill the Uchiha teen before them. Hashirama and Madara were forced to watch Uchiha Tajima and Izuna do the same, their father’s and brother’s blades meeting without mercy, the intent to kill their foe heady and suffocating. Then, without an ounce of regard or care for the children they brought into this world, each clan head threw their chosen weapon not at one another, but at the two young boys fighting below them. Both teens reacted without hesitation, neither wishing to witness yet another brother die even if there were misgivings between them, and the rocks they had once skipped out of play swiftly turned into weapons with a swift and precise flick of their wrists. Their dream died that day, as did their friendship, and with the awakening of Madara’s sharingan came the bitter reality of what Tobirama had done, of the utter betrayal he had committed simply because Butsuma had demanded.

It was that day that Hashirama silently decided he no longer had a brother, just a fellow Senju that lived under the same roof as him and fought alongside him. He played the role of the doting anija and once Butsuma was graciously killed, he wore the title of clan head to finally gain advantage over the boy for the first time since his birth all those years ago, something he wielded against Tobirama with ease. Yet, even with his harsh words and questionable actions, Tobirama stayed by his side and supported him, even drawing up extensively detailed blueprints for the village Hashirama continued to dream about night after night. A part of him had wondered whether how he treated his brother was wrong, that Tobirama perhaps had been conditioned into the mindless killer he had become, but every time Hashirama attempted to look him in the eyes, all he could see was the perfect shinobi he could never be. So, they lived with each other in tense but bearable conditions, which improved with the arrival of beautiful and graceful Mito, the Uzumaki princess being everything that Hashirama wanted, needed, and more. Better yet, she acted as the much needed buffer between the two Senjus, thankfully becoming one that assisted in dealing with Tobirama when he forgot to eat and sleep for days on end so Hashirama could tend to other matters.

Time flew by after Mito’s arrival in the Land of Fire and suddenly Hashirama was twenty-years old and facing off with Madara once again on the battlefield, their respective brothers having a battle of their own nearby. If they were truthful with themselves, everyone knew these battles were for show, used to continue on the war none of them wished for in hopes of the opposing side caving in and their clan reigning supreme. That specific day in history was the day that the tables of long winded fate were turned and the few embers of hope remaining within Hashirama’s heart grew into a fiery blaze, all because Tobirama had nearly spilt Uchiha Izuna’s blood on his already blood soaked hands but in a rare show of humanity, chose not. Tobirama’s actions that day set off a chain reaction amongst their peoples and as Hashirama sat across from Madara amidst peace concessions they both had longed for, a tiny part of him dared to acknowledge that the younger Senju heir had finally done something good in his life.

The Uchiha delegation's final requirement for concession, however, silenced that thought without hesitation. How could Madara want to marry Tobirama of all people, all because he was somehow one the “Blessed” simply because of his outward appearance?! Hashirama had tried to object, asking the Uchiha clan head whether this course of action was truly necessary, only for the bane of his existence to speak for him.

“We agree to the terms you lay before us.”

Just thinking about the moment made the hokage’s toes curl in disgruntled disgust, because how dare he steal Madara away again-?!

The sound of his office door slamming against the wall adjacent to it sent Hashirama flying upwards in surprise with a cry, the jarring feeling echoing through his right knee the moment it clashed mercilessly against the wood of his desk. Subconsciously moving to grasped the injury area whilst his mind reeled, Hashirama moved to see just who had been the culprit of the slamming of his door, only to see a tan hand marked in white scars come into his field of vision, calloused fingers unforgivingly grasping the collar of his hokage dress. The unexpected motion ripped a grunt from the hokage, Hashirama suddenly finding himself eye to eye with a seething Touka, his cousin’s dark eyes alight with barely contained rage.

“Where. Is. He?!”

Hashirama grimaced at the kunoichi frigid tone, trying to pull away from the woman in hopes of being spared from her unforgiving anger. “Touka! What are-?!”

“Don’t play dumb with me Hashirama,” Touka all but roared in face, pearly white teeth gnashed together with sharp canines out for all to see. “WHERE IS HE?!”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” In an act of primal instinct, Hashirama pushed his cousin away from himself, glaring at the kunoichi because what in the world was she talking about?!

His admission only seemed to worsen Touka’s ire, the fellow Senju stepping forward with her naginata primed and ready to strike. “Don’t play dumb with me, you-!”

“Touka.”

Manicured fingers curled around the width of Touka’s weapon, his beautiful Mito appearing in all her prim glory, face lacking any negative emotion and voice even-keeled as always.

“Mito, my sweet, thank goodness you’re here! Touka’s gone mad-!” A wave of relief swept over his confused person, Hashirama moving to embrace his lovely wife-.

Just mere inches away from wrapping his arms around the Uzumaki, Mito raised a hand of warning into the air, painted lips turnt downwards in utter seriousness. “We do not come here on a social visit, my husband. We are in search of Tobirama.”

The edges of his field of vision grew green with envy, his words dripping with jealousy as they slipped from his suddenly dry lips, arms falling unceremoniously at his sides, “Oh, is that all?”

Priming her naginata to strike once again, Touka took a threatening step forward with a deep snarl. “Is that all?! You bastard-!”

“Hashirama!”

In an instant, Hashirama’s attention was snapping over to the doorway of his office, his earth toiled irises meeting Madara’s charcoal ones, his best friend standing there with a hint of concern on his face. Behind him stood a weary Izuna and frowning Hikaku, the three Uchihas watching the scene before them unfold with cautiousness, Madara’s gloves hand clutching the doorway in a near death grip. “Where is he, Hashirama? Where is Tobirama?!”

Truthfully, the Uchiha clan head’s queries threw the Mokuton user off kilter. Wasn’t it just yesterday that Madara came to his office complaining of his brother’s poor decorum, expressing how stressful their arranged marriage had become for him?

“You! You have no right to ask where he is, you spineless bastard of a human!” Touka spun on her heel in a blur, projecting her rage onto the Uchiha without mercy. “None of you would be here if Mito and I hadn’t intervened and questioned you about Tobirama’s whereabouts!”

“You should be glad that we agreed to assist in your search for the Senju Demon! I only came along because the village’s peace treaty depends on this scam of an arranged marriage,” Izuna growled, the younger of the two Uchiha brothers glaring at the Senju kunoichi from his place beside Madara, Hikaku placing a stilling hand on the nineteen year old’s shoulder.

“That is enough, Izuna-sama,” Mito’s words silenced the boy in a second, the Uzumaki princess turning her scathing glance onto Izuna, deep plum colored irises swelling with concerned seriousness. “Now is not the time for petty arguments, nor name calling. If you truly wish to maintain peace amongst our peoples, you should learn to quell your hatred and listen for once. Such a change of behavior would do you some good.”

Mouth agape in surprise, the Uchiha teen could only stare at Mito whilst the woman moved to settle her unnerving gaze back unto Hashirama’s unsuspecting person yet again. “Hashirama, please tell us, where is Tobirama?”

“Why is there such an urgency to find him? Did otouto do something wrong again,” Hashirama wordlessly noted how everyone in the room tensed just a fraction, even Mito, the queen of prim, stoic perfection. Something was wrong, very, very wrong. “Mito, just what is going on?”

Her painted lips moved to speak, but as the first word began to slip out, Madara stepped forward with surprising steadfastness. “We believe Tobirama may have been injured. Upon entering his lab, your dear cousin and wife found it in disarray, as well as a pool of blood on the floor.”

“Hashirama!”

Glancing up from his current plant obsession of the week with a jump at the slamming of the screen door, Hashirama found himself meeting Touka’s panicked gaze, his typically stoic cousin clearly in distress. “It’s Tobirama, hurry!”

Out of nowhere, a teary-eyed Kawarama appeared, one small hand clutching onto the silky fabric of Touka’s kimono. “Father beat him, anija, he beat Tobi!”

Hashirama hadn’t realized he was running until his hand came to grapple the wood of the doorway of Tobirama’s room, dark eyes hurriedly searching the room’s contents until-. He thrust himself forward in a blur, Touka right beside him as they came to kneel at the bloodied, broken body of a contorted Tobirama, Kawarama yanking a sobbing Itama from their dying brother with desperate urgency. Ragged, wet breaths were the only thing that kept Hashirama from believing his otouto was already, his state of being lying only inches from death’s door. The younger boy’s legs were a sickening sight, his left tibia bent unnaturally underneath Tobirama’s battered skin; he nearly vomited at the jagged, alabaster bone jutting from the albino’s right leg, flesh torn and weeping thick rivets of crimson from the puncture wound.

Reaching out a shaking hand to cup Tobirama’s split skull as thick globs of salty tears began to pour down his tan face, all Hashirama’s voice could muster in his horror was a weak mutter. “Tobi, oh Kami what on earth did he do to you?!”

The pool of blood beneath the young boy’s body was a gruesome sight Hashirama knew he would never forget.

“What do you mean he may be injured? He was perfectly fine when I met him for his mission debrief this morning,” Hashirama cried, panic beginning to sprout within his chest, earth-colored irises snapping to the left to search his wife’s serious features. “Are you sure it’s even his blood?!”

“I am afraid so; the blood contained Tobirama’s chakra signature.” Mito refused to break eye contact with him, the redhead resting her hands upon his broad shoulders whilst she gifted him with an imploring look.

“That is why we must know, where is Tobirama?”

Tongue having suddenly grown heavy, Hashirama found himself stumbling over his words, the brunette unable to look away from his wife. “I-I, he requested to undertake an S-Rank assassination mission in Lightning Country and since he’s been instigating fights with Madara lately, I gave it to him, no questions asked so they could spend some much needed time apart! I didn’t know he was hurt-!”

“Whether you realized he was hurt or not means nothing now, Hashirama.” Mito’s manicured nails pressed into the muscled flesh of his shoulders, forcing him to stop mid-panicked ramble. “What matters is his time of departure and his target, nothing else. Now, when did he depart and who is his intended target?”

His target? Who was it again?

“Raikaku has been reported to be traveling throughout the steppes between here and Lightning Country,” Hashirama pointed to the map of the elemental nations set before the two brothers on his desk, gesturing to the unmarked territories marked on the general vicinity. “You are to observe first, and when you see the right moment-.”

Tobirama wasted no time in cutting him off, gifting him with a callous nod, far more stoic and aloof than he usually was. “Understood. I will not fail you, anija.”

Oh, fuck.

His chest grew heavy at the damning, frigid realization spilling into his veins, eyes growing wide and mouth going agape, desperate to deny the reality set before him. “There’s no need to get so upset, Tobi can handle himself after all-!”

Touka took another step toward him, dark eyes narrowed in impatient suspicion. “Where did you send him?!”

“He, he’s headed towards the lands between Fire and Lightning Country,” The Senju clan head wanted to vomit, his stomach thrashing madly within his core at soberly realizing he had sent his brother, his lone, remaining brother, whether he acknowledged him as one or not, to his possible death. Had Tobirama been injured like they said, and if so, why hadn’t he noticed-?

Gloved hands unforgivingly grasping the collar of his uniform jerked Hashirama from his spiraling thoughts, charcoal irises digging into his brown. Madara’s seething face was suddenly a mere inch away from his own, the Uchiha tightening his grip on Hashirama’s clothes whilst aggressively shaking his upper body. “Who is his target you, dimwit?! Who did you send Tobirama to assassinate?!”

“Raikaku, his target is Raikaku!”

The second the name of the Scribe of Raijin escaped him, he found his back meeting the wall with a jaw aching slam, uniquely patterned, swirling irises of scarlet and obsidian belonging to the one and only Uchiha Madara searing into his flesh. “What in the hell is wrong with you?! You and I both know that going after Raikaku without additional support is suicide! Are you trying to get your brother killed?!”

“Of course not! Don’t you think I told him the same thing?!” Grasping Madara’s wrist, the Mokuton user tried to shove his best friend away to no avail as he attempted (and failed) to provide logic to his decisions, the Uchiha’s grasp only tightening. “I tried to convince him to take Touka or Izuna with him but he wouldn’t listen! He just kept saying that he was fully capable and that he didn’t need to put anyone else he cared about in harm's way and then he left!”

“And you didn’t think to stop him?! You’re the goddamn Hokage, you imbecile!” Madara roared with a menacing scowl, Izuna and Hikaku rushing over to pull the frothing Uchiha off of Hashirama. “We all know that when Tobi makes up his mind, there’s no arguing with him! You of all people should know this, you’ve complained about it constantly!”

“Enough!”

“Quarreling amongst one another is going to do nothing in helping Tobirama-sama!” With a vicious tug of Madara’s arm, Hikaku placed himself between the two of them, the look on his face deadly as the jellyfish toxin Mito ingrained into the finishing of her senbon needles.

Touka gave a reluctant nod of agreement, pointing the blade of her naginata at the pair of them. “The Uchiha's right, we’re wasting time. We need to catch up to Tobirama before it’s too late. Now shut the fuck up, you pieces of shit!”

“For once, I agree with you, Senju,” Izuna quipped readily beside her, only to garner himself a threatening finger being pointed his way. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, you scheming weasel! Your treatment of my cousin is just as despicable as theirs and I’ll be damned if I don’t beat you within an inch of your life like you fucking deserve the moment Tobirama is safe!”

The threat promptly had Izuna shutting his mouth with an audible click, to which Mito took as a sign to speak. “If we have any hope of stopping Tobirama before he reaches Raikaku, we need to leave immediately.”

“Hikaku-san, Izuna-sama, you will remain here in the village in case a situation occurs. Touka, Hashirama, Madara-sama, and I will be pursuing Tobirama en route.”

Settling her damning plum irises on the three shinobi, the Uzumaki princess spoke like a true war leader. “Gather everything you will need for the journey ahead and rendezvous at the northeastern entrance within five minutes. Be late, and we will leave you behind.”

Madara let out a grunt, the Uchiha sending a poisonous glare towards Hashirama. “I will be ready in two.”

With that said, the dark eyed man disappeared in a flash of smoke and fluttering leaves, leaving the remaining five shinobi to their own devices. Izuna and Hikaku wasted no time in abandoning the office as well, shunshinning after Madara most likely, who was in the most peculiar of moods, even for the Uchiha clan head. Hashirama moved to speak with a solemn Mito, only for a seething Touka to block his path, his cousin glaring at him with fiery eyes. “If Tobirama dies because you, know that you’ll be the first one I’ll be killing, you being hokage be damned.”

“Touka, I’m-.”

“If you are done threatening my husband, dear cousin,” Mito sidled against Hashirama's right side, gifting the taller kunoichi with a warning glance. “You should be preparing yourself for the road ahead.”

“You’re lucky your wife is terrifying, Hashirama, or your ass would be mine. Remember that.” Sending one last glare his way, Touka pulled away and shunshinned with the swift signing of her hands.

“Hashirama.”

The twenty year old shifted his gaze downwards to meet Mito’s, the redhead meeting him with a face of little to no emotion. “If Tobirama does not return home with us unscathed, I will not stop Touka from beating you within an inch of your life.”

“Mito, I-!”

“Silence,” Hashirama paused mid objection, knowing far better than to test his wife’s patience. “I am thoroughly disappointed in you, husband. In fact, I am appalled by your behavior. I have every right to divorce you and remove Tobirama from your care, since you clearly care so little about him to begin with.”

Not waiting for Hashirama to respond, the Uzumaki kunoichi stepped away, her gaze never leaving his. “Ready yourself, we leave in four minutes.”

She was gone in a puff of smoke, the scent of sea salt wafting through the office air, leaving Hashirama to bear the weight of his mistakes all on his lonesome.

“You must promise me, Hashirama, that no matter what may occur between the two of you, you will protect Tobirama from harm. He will be your greatest ally and dearest friend, even in times of turmoil and strife, so you must take care of him and treat him well. Do you understand?”

“I promise mama! I’ll protect Tobirama, no matter what!”

The young man was unable to stop his stomach from heaving its contents outwards at the guilt-drenched memory, the burning bile scorching the inside of his throat with shame while he expelled what little remained of his breakfast in a nearby pot. After a few moments of unsuccessful dry heaving, Hashirama pulled away with a pant, wiping the bile coating his lips on the back of hand without a care in the world. He wasted no time in rising to his feet and stripping himself of his hokage attire, slipping his armor onto his shaking form and shunsinning to the northeastern entrance.

Hopefully the others would still be there when he arrived.

~~~

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!

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luchicm04 · 16 days

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☯ 目は独自の言語を持っています · V2

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camm1ie · 2 years

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Ok but ButsuTaji and DanZen on a double date

#idk their ship names but #Butsuma senju x Tajima uchiha #and #danzo shimura x Hiruzen Sarutobi #that would be chaotic and i want to see it #crack #danzo #hiruzen #butsuma #tajima

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dragonofthedepths · 4 months

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In (No) Danger of Going Too Far

Naruto. Senju Hashirama x Uchiha Madara. Vampire AU. Written for @hewoweens as part of the @hashimada-giftexchange!

Madara cannot remember a time when he has not been hungry.

A clan of vampires, the Uchiha have... different dietary requirements from the other clans around them.

A harsh winter that sweeps in early to kill all the crops will not effect them the same way. The same food that fuels humans is little more than padding to them, helping draw out the times between feedings if they have no blood. Only slightly more useful than eating sawdust is to a human.

Even as a child Madara was already used to padding out his diet with human food, leaving as much extra blood for his younger brothers as he could as rations grew tight.

One would think a clan of blooddrinkers could feast, surrounded by blood constantly on the battlefield. But that is blood spilled, the blood of corpses and the dead. As useless and revolting for them as an apple rotted green and slick with slime would be for a human. Utterly devoid of the life they need to feed.

Only live prey will do.

But the hunger of his youth has nothing on the starvation they've been facing recently.

And Madara knows that things have been getting worse and worse since he was a child, their situation deteriorating with every ally his father drove away. That they descended to their current level of struggle long before his recent ascension to clan head.

But he can't help but feel responsible.

Because it is his clan. He swore to protect them with everything he has, and he is doing all he can to dig them out of the hole his father got them into but it's not working fast enough.

He has been giving up even more of his rations recently, pushing them towards Izuna or the children in a desperate bid to keep them alive as they all struggle to survive while he attempts to get their feet back under them, and it is beginning to have consequences.

His blows have less strength behind them, his reaction times dulled, and it's sometimes a struggle to keep his arms from shaking. Not enough to be noticeable against a regular enemy, but it makes running into Senju Hashirama whenever he doesn't have to very inadvisable.

Hashirama is the only challenge to Madara on the battlefield, but an omnipresent one. Especially as the war between the Uchiha and the Senju picks up in the wake of Tajima's death, Senju Butsuma battering them relentlessly with attacks as he seeks to take advantage of any unsteadiness caused by the change in leadership.

Usually, Madara could take advantage of the fact that he's a sensory nin and Hashirama is not to avoid confrontations he can't afford to have. But either the Senju has his chakra completely concealed (coming back from a mission perhaps?) or Madara is even more tired than he thought, because neither of them realize the other is there until it's too late to pretend they haven't seen eachother.

Madara is painfully aware that if he ever could defeat his childhood friend, he cannot now. And that's what leads to him being backed up against a tree —a terrifying position to be in against a mokuton user— with Hashirama looming over him.

"Madara..." Madara almost growls at Hashirama as the Senju heir draws out his name, looking at him with big concerned eyes as though they are something other than enemies

"Madara, you're starving."

"What, are you offering to feed me?" He bites the words out, sarcasm lining his voice. No point in denying something so obvious Hashirama has likely known it for several fights now.

Unlike the harsh tone of Madara's voice, Hashirama's is calm and cool, seriousness replacing the worry of a moment ago. "Yes."

Madara chokes. He must look like a fool, gaping up at Hashirama in the dead silence that follows the Senju's proclamation as his brain tries to process what he just heard.

"Are you insane?!" He demands when he regains the ability to speak. Desperately trying to figure out what the Senju could possibly want out of this, especially as the damn fruit tree reaches up to undo the clasp on his pauldrons.

"Do you still remember, what we talked about as children? Our village?" Hashirama's voice is quite, no need to shout above the din of battle to be heard in this little space amongst the trees where it's only them. "I had never met anyone else who believes in the same things as me. I still haven't."

Hashirama pushes the pauldron off his shoulder and lets it fall to the ground, dropping the pieces of armor made to protect his neck —be it from swinging blades or a vampire's fangs— without a second thought.

"And I know it's more complicated now then when we were children, but you lead your clan now, and it's only a matter of time before I lead mine. I can't do this without you Madara," he finishes, staring Madara in the eyes as though he's never even considered that he might need to fear the sharingan.

It's not fair, to have Hashirama standing over him, talking about dreams and offering him a long buried childhood fantasy on a silver platter. From back when things weren't so bad yet, when he might've been always hungry but he hadn't been starving, and the sting of hunger had been softer, ignoreable. Even if playing with Hashirama —full to bursting with energy and strength, life spilling from his every action— brought it to the forefront.

How many times had he nearly confessed his clan name just to beg for a bite?

It's more than Madara can ignore. Not with Hashirama standing there willingly divesting himself of the armor that would keep him safe from Madara's fangs.

Hashirama lets Madara flip them around, so the Senju is the one pinned to a tree now, Madara's arms caging him in. (Not that a mokuton user with his back against a tree is that much safer if Hashirama does decide to attack.)

They are pressed into eachother's personal space, well within stabbing distance in a way any skilled shinobi should never let an enemy get.

Hashirama tilts his head to expose his neck,

And Madara bites.

He can hear Hashirama's soft gasp as Madara's teeth sink through skin and muscle, then the first taste of Hashirama's blood hits his tongue and he has to stop himself from moaning aloud. It is savory and rich and the first real food Madara has had in ages. Hashirama tilts his head a little more to allow Madara better access and the dizzying euphoria of Hashirama's blood rushing into his mouth almost overwhelms him as he takes swallow after swallow.

Vampires aren't like humans, there is no need to come off of starvation slowly, they are built to gorge.

He is dimly aware of when Hashirama goes from supporting himself to collapsing back against the tree and clutching the back of Madara's robes, but it still takes a moment for him to register what that means.

Fuck. Rationality pushes back against the mess of instincts and bloodlust. He has to stop. Humans can only loose so much blood, and if he takes anymore Hashirama will die and he can't— he can't loose him.

The cold wash of fear is enough to unseat the desperate need for more from it's throne and he pulls back.

One of Hashirama's hands comes up to tug him back down before he gets very far. Tangling in Madara's hair and urging him back towards his neck with more strength than a man who's just lost almost half his blood should possess.

"I can heal, remember?"

Right, Hashirama's damn healing factor.

The one that let him be stabbed through the lung as a teenager and just keep fighting the sword's extremely surprised owner, now using the very katana he'd just been stabbed by. (That was still Hashirama's favorite sword. It was a very good sword.)

Of course that would extend to blood loss as well. Of course—

Madara lets Hashirama pull him back down, and this time he looses himself in the dizzying rush, attempting to bury himself in Hashirama's warmth as he greedily sucks down all the blood, all the life Hashirama is willing to give him.

He's not sure how long it is before he releases Hashirama's neck for the second time. This time he lingers, letting his breath ghost across Hashirama's skin. No need to pull back before he gives in to the urge to bite again.

When he finally does pull away it's not far, only just far enough that he can look into Hashirma's eyes again, before he shifts his weight so that he's leaning against the tree as well. Bringing his arms around from Hashirama's shoulders to cradle the back of his head as he lets them slide down the tree, until they're both collapsed onto the roots at the bottom, all tangled up together.

One of Hashirama's hands comes up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing across his face to wipe away his tears as he leans forward until his forehead is resting against Madara's.

Madara's not sure when he started crying, but he can't bring himself to stop now. The sheer overwhelming relief of being fed, of being full, for the first time in his life is too much.

They're both breathing heavily, and for all that Madara isn't supposed to need to it feels incredible. There's a rush in his veins and a pounding in his chest, and he's never felt warm like this before; not the quick burning flash of katon, but suffused throughout him. Like part of the sunshine he can see in Hashirama every time he smiles has been tucked into Madara to keep the cold away.

There's that same blinding smile aimed at him now, and leaning in is easy, pressing lips against lips. First in a brief, feather-light kiss, then again in a stronger, surer one as they find their place against eachother.

Madara can still taste the blood coating his mouth, but that doesn't seem to deter Hashirama in the slightest.

And it's wonderful. A confirmation that everything that was between them as boys still is, as though Hashirama letting him drink from him wasn't all that and more.

Curled up together, sharing breath, sharing warmth, sharing life, Madara can see the future like he hasn't been able to since he was a child.

Senju Butsuma needs to die soon.

Bonus:

"Madara," hisses Izuna, "what did you do?! Eat a village???"

#hashimada gift exchange 2023 #Naruto #Uchiha Madara #Senju Hashirama #hashimada #Hashirama x Madara #vampire au #vampires #am I ignoring that Hashirama is wearing a turtleneck? Yes.

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justsomeoneunordinary · 3 months

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Hi, can I ask what all the ships you ship are? Because I see you post so many different ships that I can't tell what you're okay with and what not or if you ship everything. From the founders alone, I think if I asked about your Naruto ships in general it would be a lot...

Hi there, sure you may ask! I do ship a lot, yes, what can I say, I like all kinds of possibilities xD Not everything tho, no, but the list would definitely have been shorter had you just asked what I don't ship xD But if you ask because you want to know what I definitely would write for, here you go:

HashiMito

MadaTobi

TobiIzu

MadaTobiIzu

Have I mentioned HashiMito yet? I feel like I should mention HashiMito :]

IzuTouka

HashiTobi

HashiTobiMito

HashiMito

KakaGai <- not a founders ship but I can't talk about my favorite ships and leave KakaGai out of it, that would be blasphemy

SasuTobi (SARUTOBI Sasuke, not the Uchiha one. I need Tobirama to be mounted by big daddy Sarutobi so badly it's not even funny)

TajiTobi (Tobirama should destroy that old man's pussy to shreds methinks)

HashiMito

queerplatonic HashiMadaMito with aroace Madara

poly founders (just put all five of them in a bed together and all is good)

somewhat MadaIzu? But without Tobirama in between them it's kinda bland so I don't know yet about this one...

Butsuma's wife x Tajima's wife <- are they OC's? Yes. Do I care? Fuck no. People ship ButsuTaji, so I ship their wives

HashiMito in case it wasn't clear the first 10 times or obvious in the way I talk so much about them that I occupy like 90% of the HashiMito tag on tumblr. I really, really like them a lot

There are a bunch of founders ships more I caaan be open to, depending on how they're written (TobiIndra for example), but this are the ones I actively like, have written for, or would definitely write for. Hope this helps :)

Also, I love MadaGai but I would never write them. Or read them even. I only like them in theory, if that makes sense...

(And yeah, making a list of ships I like for all Naruto characters would be impossible. There's too much and many more I never even thought of but would ship if someone were to bring it to my attention.)

#may answers #anon

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officerjennie · 9 days

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A, D and K from the ask list!

A - Ships that you currently like a lot.

TobiIzu, TobiIta, TobiRyouji - basically a lot of characters with Tobirama. I've not been reading or even writing very much lately, but Tobirama is still in my head rent free.

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

I have a bunch of them. Eskel/Triss squicked me out, Eskel/Lambert was a no, Izuna/Touka was a big no, Tobirama/Indra was also a big no, Butsuma/Tajima is likely a no though it could just be I haven't seen anything that clicked with them yet. All ships that I think should be perfectly fine but that hit the No Thank You for some reason.

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

Zuko. I don't even go in that fandom (besides seeing some art here and there) and he has hands down the best character arc imo.

Shame Toph and him never got their episode.

#fateblood #ask meme #ask game #I'm sure you're shocked and amazed that I'm into Tobi right now xD

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tobiramamonmari29 · 2 years

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outside pov:

In a forest, which separated two clans, two most powerful clans of its time. Two men found themselves, a rather tall man with light brown hair and stern eyes, and another tinged with dark hair, with night-black eyes. it is two men currently been the chiefs of the clan uchiha, and senju. The desire to take hold of the other, to jump to his neck even outside the battlefield was present. They had had this kind of meeting several times. the two men fought among themselves, never being satisfied on the battlefield. It was not uncommon for one of the leaders to force the other into a short, dry request in a handwritten message to come and fight against him. tajima uchiha was back to meet, butsuma senju in one of their date. The raven haired man was wearing his red armor, he was ready for the fight. when he crossed his rose bushes, whose thorns got stuck in the folds of his armour, he finally arrived in himself who was this stress relief. Butsuma senju, being closer to the meeting place was already there. The uchiha noticed the obvious lack of armor on the other.

the senju looked at him from where he was sitting on that huge ratchet. The man's brown eyes were fixed on the uchiha, with a scornful look, being in a bad mood. Tajima noticed his bad mood, nothing too much to change from his usual cold gaze. butsuma clicked his tongue in frustration which this time tajima didn't understand.

Tajima: you don't have your armor, they talked about it but nothing very intimate, often insults.

Butsuma: we're not going to fight today, it didn't seem to be a request but an order. tajima looked at him suspiciously.

Tajima: Let's have tea then, senju.

Butsuma: stop spitting venom when you talk to me uchiha, The man looked down on him, more than he was already well installed on this ratchet.

Tajima made a mental note that this was the longest discussion he had ever had with the senju. The said senju who continued to look at him from all his height from where he was posed. what an arrogant asshole, they looked at each other for a long time in silence, nothing really embarrassing for them, they are not great talkers and even less friends.

tajima: what do you want if you don't want to fight?

Butsuma: to have fun.

.it sounded rather distant when he said it, his giggle was rather dry to be really one, a childish touch was heard under this slow and dry tone. Tajima didn't understand, but he was more on his guard than usual. he didn't expect to hear a shit of peace in the world from the man in front of him. If he did, he would kill him on the spot. Butsuma, didn't say anything, he clicked his tongue again, something probably pissing him off.

Tajima: hn.

butsuma: I want you to play with me, uchiha. His name was said harshly and a few things he didn't know about butsuma.

Long minutes passed again without either of them speaking. Tajima, looked at butsuma still cross-legged on that fucking ratchet. he was tempted to repeatedly ask what was a "fun" game for a clan leader like butsuma senju. But he didn't. Surely out of annoyance butsuma spoke again without forgetting a sigh like it tore his jaw to have to talk to someone.

butsuma: let's make love, it had been said with such meanness that tajima could have believed that he was insulting him even if he was deaf.

Tajima: Are you missing?

Butsuma: A few things like that.

Butsuma descended from where he was sliding on the wall of the ratchet. now that he noticed it, he was dressed rather simply. Gray turtleneck sweater, dark blue pants, matching his shinobi sandals. Tajima himself, was in a red t-shirt with his clan badge drawn on it, black pants with matching scandals. they looked at each other without saying anything for a change. It was butsuma who approached the other man first surprising him a little.

///Lemon///

The speed of the senju had caught him off guard, he must admit. His back cracked under the impact, he hit a tree, still restrained by the brunette. they didn't do anything, they were obviously expecting something both, which didn't seem to come from an outside point of view. When it looks like they've found what they're both looking for, a mini battle ensues. tajima headbutted butsuma who didn't flinch, damn physical strength out of the ordinary. Butsuma took him by the shoulders slamming him back against the tree which creaked under the impact. Beneath tajima's slightly dazed area, butsuma snatched, rather shredded, his t-shirt. skin paler than his own was exposed filled with soft scars that he may have made on her himself.

Under the short but helpful distraction tajima tackled him to the ground. If the senju wanted to play like this, so be it. the senju's sweater was torn with the help of a kunai, getting rid of the t-shirt a caramel skin appeared with traces of blood. Tajima hadn't cut the garment delicately. he licked up the bloodstains with a mischievous smile, a rather hoarse moan coming from between the current submissive's lips. Butsuma being bigger and stronger reversed the roles, he cupped his hands, his pale wrists against the hard mud-filled floor. tajima kicked him on the tabia but he didn't change position still on top of the other.

Tajima: tch releases senju.

Butsuma: the game has only just begun, he approached the face of the other who turned his head, the senju perversely licked his cheek.

butsuma kissed her cheek until a hickey popped out on it, he chuckled a little more happily than before. He seemed amused because he hadn't done it on purpose in the first place. The head of the uchihas been like a glass under him to free himself. butsuma put his handles together and stuck a seal on them so that they were glued to the ground under the other's irritation.

Tajima: butsuma, fucking asshole.

The man played deaf, not listening to the insults of the man with the fiery temperament. he removed his own belt under the eyes of the other, he received a gasp of surprise when he did the same. He unbuttoned his pants, and pulled on his zipper, he got rid of the man's sandals then got rid of all his clothes. tajima uchiha, head of the uchiha clan was naked under him half hard. Butsuma stood up under Tajima's gaze, who could set him on fire if he wanted to, but instead his Sharingan scanned that stretch of caramel skin. it was rare in the uchiha clan to see anything but pale, porcelain skin. Tajima was rather fascinated by his enemy's caramel skin.

Butsuma not paying attention to this, he approached raising Tajima's legs spreading them a little. his mouth made a slow path to the other's already erect nipples. Licking them, biting them to blood, leaving hundreds of purple, blue or even green marks on Tajima's pale chest. Roughly tracing old scars with his fingers, some opening up again, he licked the blood longingly under Tajima's moans.

He spread the other man's legs a little more, he was not gentle with him, he was in no way sorry for him. he curiously pushed his fingers away from the entrance of the uchiha who made a cry of an angry dying cat. Um, he lifted the man's ass, almost bending it in half. He spread the ass of the other who was in front of his face. He inserted his tongue into her sensitive little hole, under the other's cry of surprise. after curling his tongue tightly against that reddened little hole, he moistened his fingers. He thrust his three fingers at the same time, he made a quick preparation with the other. He moved back and forth randomly, quickly and painfully. Tajima moaning in pain and pleasure, it didn't last long.

Butsuma pulled his fingers back, lifted the other smaller man up and came inside him painfully and quickly. He didn't wait for the agreement of the other, already slamming into this trembling body beneath him. It clacked again and again. Tajima moaned in pleasure, what good pain butsuma gave him there. he had glassy eyes of pleasure, drool at the corner of his mouth, a pretty blush, a head that came straight out of a Porno.

Tajima: pl-faster ah~.

Butsuma: what a good bitch you are doing there tajima!,

Tajima groaned when the senju said his name like a wild animal. the comings and goings were more and more rapid, the moans of the two men more and more frequent. Tajima was in pain but my god it felt so good, blood poured from his intimacy, he could have been worried but he felt so good. butsuma was moaning close to his ear making him even more aroused than he already was. He whispered dirty words to her, and what else he could do with him. Tajima lost all control of her body and her mind, which drifted elsewhere in a flurry of pleasure.

butsuma: i like you like that, tajima.

Butsuma slammed into his intimacy, while uttering his sweet words sternly. Tajima, threw his head back into the muddy ground in a groan of pleasure, he released a moan without any restraint. it comes on his torso and his face, under the eager gaze of The other. Butsuma licked his lips and slammed his cock harder and harder into the hallway. he offered a splendid view to the other, head thrown back exposing his caramel-colored neck, his Adam's apple digging into his throat as he moaned as he came into her intimacy. Tajima's sharingan imprinted this vision of his red pupils, he was going to have erotic dreams. the blood and the sperm this mixed between them under the frown of tajima. It hurt him a little. But, he had captured some beautiful moments of his eyes, why the hell had he activated them.

butsuma withdrew from him, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping himself before putting his underwear back on. Tajima was still breathless from what he had come from that past and still stuck to the ground from the seals. he could only watch butsuma dress in his pants, and rubbed his feet before putting his sandals back on. His sweater was torn he couldn't put it back on the uchiha smiled at that. while looking at the gash he had made on the senju's chest which had no scars, fucking medical jutsu.

Butsuma sat on his chest smothering him a bit with his weight. He stared at Tajima for a moment before smiling like the arrogant asshole he was. he traced his matt fingers his neck, then his face followed by his handles which he detached. Tajima didn't do anything when the senju retreated, he looked at his handles they had nothing. Butsuma looked down on him from where he was standing in front of him. the senju tossed him a clean handkerchief and his torn sweater.

Butsuma: used to wash you, you're dirty uchiha, he smirked triumphantly.

Tajima: tch. Asshole.

Butsuma: I had fun, tajima.

He was crouched in front of him, holding his chin between his fingers. he kissed her wildly, their tongues beating the dominance the uchiha lost. After ravaging his mouth until he bled, the senju backed away, licking his own lips.

Butsuma: see you on the battlefield, silk in good shape. he smiled at his state of disaster he was rather proud of himself.

Tajima really hates this senju. He wants to kick his ass once and for all, he'll see on the battlefield. But before that he has to go home and wash it and forget about those delicious moments that his pupils had recorded.

Tajima: Shit, that bastard is super sexy!! He said blushing, hiding his face. SENJUUUU!!! HAAAAAAAAA! I HATE YOU !!!

End.

my two wattpad accounts : Tobirama-mari-de-elo // elofemmedetobirama

#uchiha tajima #butsuma senju #butsutaji #Tajibutsu #Butsuma x tajima #Tajima x butsuma #yaoi #Uchiha x senju #Senju x uchiha #Butsuma #Tajima #lemon

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bigogles · 3 years

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One of those funny wedding pictures but with MadaMito. Y'know, those pictures where the bridesmaids of honor and the bride and groom and everyone are doing funny poses

So heres a quick sketch.. i didnt really know who to include ngl Mito's -1 screentime makes things complicated.

Ik the funny poses r kinda missing but I couldnt imagine anything but most people being mad or depressed especially MadaTobi

Pls dont sue me

Bonus: (the dads (Ashina, Tajima, Butsuma)

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kankuroplease · 3 months

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Would you mind ranking how frequently your founders oc ships would have freaky time together hehe

OC ships from nightly to might get it in if the mood strikes

Tw: suggestive + some mentions of kinks

Okami x Kawarama - nothing stops them expect for distance

Tajima x Sumi - they became parents because of a mutual breeding kink as well as insanely high libidos

Madara x Katsura - Katsura is a competitive undercover freak with a bit of a voice kink, it’s easy to work her up.

Rei x Sora - they are both each others exact types and have higher sex drives. They have a secret glory hole somewhere in the bathhouse just for them 💀

Suzaku x Erika x Aja - someone is bound to have something in them a good number of days out of the week

Gou x Itama - both scheduled and spontaneous sex

Nagisa x Naori - it’s how they bond

Miu x Kagami - they like a good round or two after training

Suigetsu x Megumi - Megumi likes to surprise Suigetsu at work with a quickie plus she cleans up after herself well, so Oro acts oblivious to the obvious 😌

Tobirama x Aori - Tobirama’s a busy man but Aori knows how to destress him when he makes it home

Kakuzu x Riki - they have days of no work and just having sex

Sakumo x Kōmori - it’s more of a weekend deal because of how busy he is

Manda x Nisshoku - Manda’s sex drive seems to fluctuate with the weather and Sho is fine with that

Orochimaru x Tora - would be higher if they didn’t frequently out of village

Butsuma x Asako - sex is for procreating and Asako’s libido is practically non existent

#ask #tw suggestive #kpz naruto founder au #kpz firestorm 🔥#kpz distance between ⛩️#tw breeding kink

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twitchi2 · 5 years

Photo

Some Tajima/Butsuma as per requeted by @perelka-l for the art exchange ^^

#Tajima #Butsuma #tajima/butsuma #angsty was the only way I could go trying to get those two together x3 #and now I'm thinking of painful 'different sides of the war but still prioritising what should be prioritised' doomed romances xp #I tried giving Tajima a tattoo #because if the hair is hiding a face one might as well have fun with it #but it just look kinda... blob like x'''''D #also it's not Tajima that reminds of Sasuke in that next to last panel it's sasuke who happen to look a lot like a bunch of his relatives!

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luchicm04 · 18 days

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☯ 目は独自の言語を持っています

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mira--mira · 3 years

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When and why do you think Madara gave up the dream of the village, or did he have it in the first place? Since its implied that Hashirama tired to make peace the second he became clan head only for Madara to refuse him until Izuna's death. Why do you think it took Madara so long to agree when he dreamt of it with Hashirama when they were young. Or do you think that he was just humoring Hashirama when they were young and never had that dream?

Ooh I have a lot of thoughts on this! Okay, so first of all I whole-heartedly believe Madara and Hashirama shared the same dream when they were young. I’d even argue that Madara started to have it first. In Hashirama’s flashbacks (which my god, I wish we had Madara’s perspective on that so much) to me it seems like he’s frustrated with the fighting and the war but can’t quite vocalize the idea of peace. It’s when he meets back up with Madara and Madara tells him to trust someone you need to know their guts and presents that as the unlikely but ultimate way to make peace that Hashirama latches onto the idea and then they develop the idea for the village specifically together until it becomes their dream, and once Madara abandons it, becomes “only” Hashirama’s.

As for why Madara didn’t agree immediately when he became clan head, I have different two different theories, and a whole lot of realisitc overlooked complications. The first and most bitter theory is at this point in the overall narrative the ‘Uchiha are genetically pre-dispositioned to evil’ theme has picked up steam and the reincarnation reveal is right around the corner. To make Naruto’s ultimate triumph of ‘winning Sasuke back to the side of good’ the most meaningful, Hashirama and Madara (and Asura and Indra before them) had to fail by the narrative design. Naruto is the child of prophecy and the reincarnation of ninja jesus, he’s the Most Special right now. None of this is helped by the fact that we don’t get Madara’s side. We don’t know why Madara refused peace. If that was explained, if Madara even referenced it in his fight with Hashirama I would be less bitter and more inclined to believe there was actual narrative weight in that decision. But it’s not and while I love part 1 baby Naruto with all my heart, ever since the child of prophecy plot point was brought up and all throughout the war arc I am most happy when we are not following him because the world bends to accommodate him as the mc more than usual at the detriment to other characters.

Now for a not bitter theory, with the scraps were given and a lot of guessing lol. Madara’s decision not to accept peace immediately once he becomes clan head, should narratively tie into why he broke off his friendship with Hashirama in the first place. We know the river confrontation happened, but we don’t know how the Uchiha discovered was meeting Hashirama, or their reaction to it. Personally, I love good dad Tajima, but realistically I think his reaction would be similar to Butsuma’s. Madara would be threatened with being labeled a traitor to the clan. However, the real crux for me would be Izuna. Izuna is Madara’s main priority from what we can tell. If Tajima suggested, or threatened, that Madara’s meetings with Hashirama would directly lead to Izuna’s death...I can see that being a greater fear for him. Neither Madara or Hashirama would want to be banished from their clans but the knowledge that his friendship with Hashirama was the cause of his brother’s death would be the single worst outcome for Madara. Cue the actual river confrontation, with Tobirama and Izuna clashing and then both dads trying to kill the other’s kid that was Madara’s worst-case come true. I don’t think he went into the confrontation with the intention of breaking his friendship with Hashirama. They both tried to leave early to prevent the confrontation after all. But when it happened and Madara was faced with that...he did the only thing he could think to do to protect his brother even at the cost of his own happiness. The agony of that choice was the Sharingan moment for me. From there it gets blurry but the way I see Madara is he felt he couldn’t go back on that decision and he internalized it. He made it and getting close to Hashirama again, listening to him and accepting peace, would still ultimately lead to his brother’s death. This could explain why after Izuna died, he gave it one last go and when he was defeated ultimately accepted peace. His worst case had come true. Izuna’s dead and, in a twist of fate, he died because Madara chose to not to accept Hashirama’s friendship when he could.

The above is kind of my “main” theory, directly from canon explanation. It gets complicated by other ideas that weren’t addressed at all, but would reasonably come up if the narrative was focused on this time rather than Hashirama’s entire backstory being just that, a backstory. We know the Uchiha and Senju had been at war for generations and the overall terrible conditions of the Warring State Period as well as how ninja clans were hired as mercenaries...beyond that...there’s not a lot. A major consideration to Madara not accepting peace should be the political climate. Were there multiple daimyos (I ask this because the Warring States period was analogous to Japan’s Sengoku period and there were multiple daimyos fighting for power. Who would have the money/need to hire multiple clans to fight against each other if there was just one?) was there just one? Madara is the leader of a clan but he can’t just decide to do things if it would possibly jeopardize the Uchiha’s ability to work, get paid, and eat. Then you have the politics of the clans themselves. There were Uchiha defectors and they were at least willing to accept peace, but we get no indication about the clan’s changing attitude towards the Senju or peace. After being grievously injured, Izuna was still against it. There could have been a group that was completely anti-peace and a group that was pro-peace and how would Madara reconcile with that especially if he wasn’t a beloved leader? I do think Madara as clan head could make the decision ‘we’re making peace with the Senju’ but then forcing two enemy clans to cohabitate that hate each other...even if they were tired of war Madara would be risking his clan’s wellbeing on Hashirama’s word. I think Madara could believe Hashirama but the rest of the Senju? That’s a different question altogether and raises it’s own concerns.

The concept of making peace and creating the village is a complicated matter, much more so than two boys declaring they’ll be the strongest so everyone has to listen to them. I really think this point in the narrative just kind of...had to exist with the way Kishi wrote the story esp with the upcoming Indra/Ashura parallels. Realistically there would have been a lot of reasons Madara couldn’t immediately accept peace even if he wanted to. These could have been hinted at, but because I think the ultimate goals of the backstory was 1. to lay out Madara’s villain origin and 2. to hint at Hashirama failed where Naruto will succeed and all of this has to be delivered as quickly and effectively as possible, those other possible reasons weren’t explored. I would have liked a line or two of dialogue between Hashirama and Madara about this, especially whenever Madara mentions Konoha isn’t his dream and ground it in realistic obstacles rather than ‘space alien goddess’ will manipulating him for x amount of time’ but...you know.

Hashirama and Madara’s relationship was well developed and great, but Naruto suffers the mot imo when realistic longstanding problems come up, especially if they’re problems caused by historical events or the current socio-political climate. The biggest evidence of this is...what were the great shinobi wars about? Why did they start? What were they fought over? When did they end? What were their consequences? It’s...surprisingly hard to answer these vital questions and “why didn’t Madara immediately accept peace?” ultimately falls into the same category for me.

This is all from Madara’s perspective and tbh I could write a whole thing about why Hashirama was so gung-ho about immediate peace and the pro/cons of that but this is already way too long lol.

#naruto #ask #anon #madara uchiha #hashirama senju

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louiserandom · 4 years

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MadaTobiIzu- "Whenever you lose an item (like a sock), it ends up in your soulmates’ possession somehow." I think this would be really funny that during the middle of a fight Tobirama sees two things he thought he lost but Madara and Izuna have it. Ficlet length with a G or T rating.

finally found

Rating: T

Summary: Tobirama loses two of his very important possessions, and his world is completely turned upside down when he discovers that they’ve ended up in the hands of the Uchiha brothers.

The battle is put on hold as hilarity ensues.

A/N: Did not expect this OT3 to inspire me so much XD I hope it’s not too much humor. They’re so funny I had to describe every detail of their ridiculousness x)

Hope you enjoy it, Mala!<3

Read on AO3 or under the cut :3

At first glance one might think that, out of the two Senju brothers, Hashirama is the more careless one and therefore prone to losing his things.

It’s easy to think that, considering Tobirama’s usually composed demeanor and Hashirama’s insistence on acting the fool more often than not, but no one is more aware of the utter inaccuracy of that perception than Tobirama himself.

It is his fault, admittedly, that his tendency to get lost in thoughts of scientific experiments and underdeveloped theories has him distracted from real life to the point he loses track of everything his mind deems unimportant. And that ranges from time to little trinkets, books, paperwork, and even weapons, if he finds himself lost in thought during training. It’s a very annoying truth about himself that Tobirama has learned to deal with and has long since stopped caring what his soulmate thinks of him, considering Tobirama loses at least a dozen things a day.

If I even have a soulmate, trickles of doubt gnaw at his mind, echoing the biting words of some of the elder clansmen.

“Of course you do!” Hashirama always assures him in all his sappy, dreamy-eyed glory. “And it’ll be such a beautiful day when you find them, Otouto. I cannot wait!”

Tobirama couldn’t say the same for himself. He’d gleaned enough clues over the years to deduce that his soulmate must be an Uchiha, and the ongoing war spurred on by Butsuma and Tajima’s thirst for vengeance does little to give hope for a happy outcome of events. And despite Hashirama’s adamance regarding his dream of peace, once he and Madara took up leadership of their respective clans, there was too much hate, too much death accumulated during the war for peace to be an immediate possibility.

He keeps his discovery from Hashirama lest he do something reckless or stupid—or both—and does his best to deal as little damage as he can to their enemies. It’s easy to focus on Izuna, whom Tobirama finds to be a titillating challenge. A fierce, formidable opponent whose hate for Tobirama seems to only be overshadowed by Madara’s, what with Tobirama eventually becoming the only real threat to his little brother.

Little brother and soulmate.

A match made in heaven, Tobirama thinks, if only because the Uchiha brothers are both excessively loud and dramatic in equal measure.

And normally, Tobirama wouldn’t be able to stand such behavior, but today he finds himself acting quite like the maddening Uchiha duo because his whole world seems to be crashing down.

“I can’t,” Hashirama whines, “I can’t find it, Otouto.”

He’s buried under heaps of unorganized research notes in Tobirama’s lab, a few upturned cabinets lying beside him, with quite the number of broken vials strewn all over the place.

Tobirama is in much the same predicament, and for once he’s thankful he put away all the containers with radioactive elements away into unbreakable storage scrolls, at least.

His lab is an absolute disaster.

Because apparently, Tobirama is too much of an idiot to keep track of his new favorite weapon for one godsdamned day. Raijin no Ken was a nightmare to locate and tear away from many, many greedy, mostly inhuman hands. How in hell he’s managed to lose it is beyond Tobirama’s understanding.

“Well, it’s your… old favorite weapon now?” Hashirama tries for a joke.

“Anija,” Tobirama growls.

“Don’t be sad! Remember, your soulmate will probably have it.”

Tobirama rolls his eyes. It’s a possibility. One that he’ll hopefully get to test on the battlefield tomorrow. And that reminds him of his latest development—a seal able to manipulate spacetime to achieve instantaneous travel, which should prove quite useful during battle. He embedded it on a special kunai, a treasured gift from Hashirama from years back, and must have put it… somewhere…

“Fuck!” Tobirama shoves away some construct for an experiment in a fit of utter frustration when he fails to find what could have become his second favorite weapon.

“What did you lose this time?”

Tobirama stares guiltily at the ground. “The kunai you gave me when I came of age. One that I imbued with a special seal.” He sighs. “I hate this.”

“It’s going to be okay, Otouto.” Hashirama approaches him tentatively, arms raised in a pacifying gesture. “Remember how I also lost something important once? That permafrost statue of an atom you gave me as a kid? And then I got it back when I met Mito, and it was one of the happiest days of my life!” It’s hard remaining annoyed in the presence of Hashirama’s goofy smile, but Tobirama keeps up the disgruntled façade. “You know, I’ve heard of these organization techniques that might help—”

“If you want to help, Anija, shut up and let me work,” Tobirama snaps, sitting himself down on the one desk still standing with the research notes for the seal still, thankfully, in place. “But thanks,” he adds in a whisper that Hashirama hears, of course, and proceeds to wax poetic about the beauty of brotherly love.

Despite the distraction, Tobirama quickly recreates a Hiraishin anchor with one of his standard kunai, putting it safely into his weapons pouch to keep it close.

Raijin no Ken, on the other hand, is going to have to be exclusively his soulmate’s—for now.

For now turns out to be a little less than a day, because the next morning saw Tobirama facing Izuna. Business as usual, only the Uchiha has replaced his katana for the shiny new toy Tobirama has just lost.

“What,” Tobirama says in lieu of their usual insult contest of a greeting, “the fuck is that.”

Izuna smirks. “Hello to you too, Snowflake. Why don’t you stop cowering and find out?”

Tobirama scowls, absolutely not willing to put up with Izuna’s theatrics, and so attacks with a kunai that his rival easily dodges. It’s immensely satisfying to watch Izuna flail as Tobirama appears right next to him and wrestles him to the ground, knocking Raijin no Ken from Izuna’s hand and pinning his wrists above his head.

“You stole my sword!” Tobirama accuses.

“Did not. And get off me, icicle!” Izuna huffs, indignant and surprisingly not fighting against the hold as much as Tobirama expects him to. “It’s not yours—I found it, and it’s mine.”

“Found it?” Tobirama stares, dumbfounded, and Izuna uses the moment to kick and push at him with renewed vigor (but not much success).

Izuna’s soulmate is his brother, and surely it couldn’t be that—

As if in answer to his protest, Tobirama’s original Hiraishin kunai lands next to where he and Izuna are grappling, and none other than Madara Uchiha appears only to haul Tobirama to his feet and push him away.

“Hands off my brother, Senju,” Madara glowers, gunbai in hand and stance battle-ready.

Tobirama resists the urge to groan.

“That,” he points to the kunai, glaring, “is my seal and my weapon.” Tobirama itches to ask obvious question of how and where Madara had found it, but what comes out instead is, “How did you even figure out how to use it, Uchiha?”

“Yours?” Madara flails, gunbai still in hand, looking as ridiculous as ever. “First of all, fuck you, Senju, I am expert in seal theory. And secondly, I found this, and that means it must be my… our …” His face blanches as he trails off, staring at Tobirama with growing horror in his eyes. “No.”

“Apparently,” Tobirama sighs, “yes.”

“You’re our soulmate?” Izuna’s brain seems to have caught up, finally, and he stands, gaping at Tobirama like he’s seen a bijū.

“You’re their soulmate, Otouto!” Hashirama shouts gleefully from the distance, as if Tobirama’s doom isn’t obvious enough.

The battle seems to have frozen in time, confused Senju and awed-looking Uchiha standing around the scene like it’s a theater play—and it might as well be, because the idiots fate (the bitch) has chosen to tie Tobirama with completely fucking lose it.

“How did we not know he’s our soulmate, nii-san?”

“We knew it was a Senju—”

“Well, you should have accepted those peace offers from the treehead—”

“Excuse me, brat? I wanted to accept them, and you were the one saying we couldn’t trust—”

“Fuck that, I didn’t know we were lucky enough to get beautiful and deadly for a soulmate,” Izuna says, upturning the entirety of what Tobirama had believed to be reality up until this moment. Beautiful? “I thought Snowflake was taken!”

“Now listen here, you reckless dumbass,” Madara growls, the chakra around him getting hotter to match his anger, “no matter how beautiful he is,” he says, pointing his gunbai Tobirama’s way, “he still almost killed you a hundred times—”

“At most a dozen, nii-san, and I almost killed him once!”

“I don’t care!” Madara shrieks, voice getting exponentially louder. “Until we’ve figured out this whole mess, you are going to stop being a suicidal moron and listen to what I say!”

Madara takes a deep breath to, presumably, launch another longer rant, and it’s then that Tobirama decides he’s had enough.

(This is why he’s always thankful his opponent is Izuna. It’s painful watching Hashirama deal with Madara’s shrieky rants every single battle.)

And since no one forbade him from being a suicidal moron, Tobirama decides to do the one thing his brain comes up with to shut up the louder Uchiha and possibly shock him enough to stop the godsdamned screaming.

The kiss comes unexpected to everyone, judging from the collective gasps, and though Madara yelps and stiffens as Tobirama drags him closer by the collar, he doesn’t struggle further.

His gunbai falls, though, and his lips relax against Tobirama’s as he goes slack-jawed, so Tobirama considers his mission successful. His brain tells him the shock of it is enough, that he should pull away, gods damn you, you’re kissing Madara Uchiha.

But two things happen that Tobirama could never have predicted.

One being that kissing Madara was actually a very pleasant experience, and the other… Well.

Madara answers the kiss.

It’s such a ridiculous series of events that’s led Tobirama to this, making out with his once worst enemy in the midst of a battlefield, the rush of blood to his head and his pounding heartbeat drowning out his brother’s indignant protests and whatever Izuna is whining about. It’s exhilarating, the way Madara’s mouth moves against his own, and despite this being Tobirama’s first real kiss, he seamlessly follows Madara’s lead, drinking him in, tasting him, almost letting out a moan as Madara coaxes his lips open to slide his tongue into his mouth.

It’s the first time all semblance of a thought process exits out of Tobirama’s mind, leaving only this perfect moment frozen in time, as the bond between them sings in response to their closeness.

Of course it’s Izuna who pulls them apart—quite forcefully, too—and proceeds to glare at his brother.

“Nii-san, you traitor! I was supposed to be the first one to kiss our soulmate when we met them! Now I,” he announces proudly, “get fuck him first.”

Tobirama blinks. That escalated quickly.

“Mm,” Madara argues, his voice blessedly quieter and face tinged with what looks to be a light blush, as he keeps staring at Tobirama with a slightly dreamy expression. “Uh. No. Mine.”

“No,” Izuna growls, hand grasping Tobirama’s fur collar protectively, “mine, you greedy bastard.”

“My baby brother,” Hashirama sobs, rid of his prior glee and suffering a mental breakdown a few feet away, “my innocent baby brother…” And that’s definitely the sound of Tōka’s cackling Tobirama can hear in the distance.

He blinks some more, breathing deep and slow, trying to regain at least some of his thinking capacity.

“Sorry,” Tobirama says to Madara, his brain only catching up enough to provide a poor excuse for the earlier kiss. “I, uh, didn’t mean to do that. So suddenly.”

“No. I liked.” Madara frowns. And that’s definitely a blush deepening on his cheeks. “Sentences. Hard.”

“YOU’RE GETTING HARD?”

“Shut the fuck up, treehead,” Izuna says, hurling Madara’s discarded gunbai at Hashirama for good measure. “He’s ours now!” He turns back to Tobirama. “What you mean to do now, Snowflake, is use this clever seal of yours and take us somewhere private. Can you do that for us?”

Tobirama blinks some more, finding himself suddenly unable to argue in face of Izuna’s devious smile. “Oh. Yeah, I can do that.”

(There’s the added annoyance of someone from the crowd asking about nuptials, which makes Tobirama crave to get the fuck out of here.)

He reaches for the Hiraishin seal he’d placed in a faraway clearing, with enough distance from both their compounds that neither their clanmates, nor Hashirama’s irrational overprotectiveness will be able to reach them. Tobirama wants to explain as much but is interrupted by a very enthusiastic Izuna ravishing his mouth. Firm, messy, biting, so unlike his earlier kiss with Madara but riveting in its own way. Tobirama can’t quite hold back the whimper that escapes the moment the last part of their bond cements itself.

“Now that,” Izuna purrs, drawing away, “was a proper greeting.”

Tobirama breathes out a laugh. “Couldn’t agree more.”

Because for the first time, nested between the playful crackle of his former rival’s chakra and the raging flame that is Madara embracing him from behind, Tobirama feels like he’s finally found home.

#madatobiizu #madara uchiha #izuna uchiha #tobirama senju #lou writes #fanfic #camp nano april 2020 #madatobi #tobiizu #madaizu

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