My tired brain 🧠 possibly misunderstood, but hc requests are still open? If not disregard this ask, but if so what are your hc on Uchiha Males discovering their spouse or s/o, having an intrauterine device for birth control? I would say not done out of spite but just something their s/o has had for years (some IUDs last for 10 yrs or longer!). Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, since it’s not something most women spend all day thinking about. At least I don’t.
Maybe a slight misunderstanding over the whole scenario. It can be NSFW as well. 😈
HC requests are in fact still open, as they don’t take me long to write. Fic requests are closed.
Mhhh I’m not sure, this would be quite hard to gauge I think. I’ll try my best.
Uchiha Men finding out you have an IUD/views on contraception
Indra:
-This man would not be happy to hear you say you cannot conceive when he wants you to. He would absolutely tell you to get it removed ASAP. You don’t want children with him or something? Is that a joke? You need to give him an heir.
-If you tell him you’ve had it for a long time, he will retort that now you’re his wife and it is time to have a family with him.
- 10/10 commitment, 1/10 general approach, 0/10 women’s rights
Izuna:
-He’s secretly a sweetheart. He would ask you why you did it and if you’re comfortable removing it because he wants a family with you. If you’re not, he’ll try to coax you into it, but he won’t push too far. He wants peace for his clan as much as peace in his household.
-Will be asking routine updates on whether you’re ready to take it off.
- 7/10 general approach, 9/10 communication, 7/10 women’s rights
Madara:
-Is perplexed when he starts to see that no matter how many time he breeds you, you never get pregnant. There is no way he’s the problem. Could you be infertile? That’s not a thought Madara likes. He needs to pass on his genes, and he singled you out as the best woman to help him do that.
-So he asks you, and you tell him you cannot conceive at the moment because of your IUD. Madara is not happy. He isn’t going to be as controlling as Indra, but he will try to literally fuck the need to be bred into you. Will manipulate you into a breeding kink. And then he will dote on you, making sure you know how much he is committed to creating a family with you, how much he wants you to bear his children. Until you suddenly want it too and get that blasted thing removed. Another win for Madara.
- 6/10 general approach, 6/10 women’s rights, 8/10 gaslighting
Obito:
-This man will break you with simping. When he finds out, he’s genuinely upset and a little embarrassed. After all, he’s been raving about putting a child in you when you two were having sex and now he finds out it was literally impossible for him to do so.
-He will shower you with love, say he wants a family with you so badly, tell you how good you’d look pregnant, say how much he wants to be a father and how good of a mother you’d be.
-Genuine love bombing: Obito is genuine in the efforts he’s putting in. He’s not trying to manipulate you consciously, he just wants it that badly, and is so upset that you have that IUD and he can’t make it a reality. What you’ll do is up to you, but he’ll never stop nagging you.
- 7/10 general approach, 8/10 women’s rights, 10/10 simping
Shisui:
-Is the most normal about breeding kink. Will say it’s fine, but asks if one day, you might still be open to having children.
-Laughs it off with a sex joke.
-‘That’s good to hear, sweetheart, I’m not sure I can be trusted with pulling out in time’ he would laugh and joke.
-Sometimes will get thoughts of how cute it would be and how happy it would make him to make a family, and he asks how long you think you’re going to keep it.
-Engages in playful jokes about being a dad. Quick glances in your direction to see how you take it.
- 10/10 women’s rights, 9/10 general approach, 9/10 joking as a coping mechanism
Itachi:
-Itachi is completely understanding of the notion of contraception. After all, who would want a child when they’re not ready? But he does want a family with you, and if the time is right and he doesn’t plan to play suicide with Sasuke, he will want you to be the mother of his children.
-Will inquire when you got it… for purposes. You don’t need to know he’s counting down how much time is left until it gets removed
-Will also inquire what the purpose of the contraception is. Is it to be able to have sex without risks until you are ready, or are you planning to not have children at all? He needs to be reassured that you do want a family with him one day, even if it’s not today. He’s patient, but he needs the constant reassurance that one day, he can go wild and give in to his breeding kink. Being an Uchiha is not easy.
- 9/10 general approach, 10/10 women’s rights, 9/10 paranoia
Sasuke:
-You can do whatever you like, but he’s silently brooding over it. Secretly asks himself if you are trying to avoid having a family with him
-Wants to rebuild his clan with you. Will not say he wants you to get it removed. Will say “whatever”.
-You’ll have to go to him to have a conversation about it, and the fact that he wants a family has to be pulled out of his throat with pliers. You’ll have to do the leg work to communicate, but it’s really sweet once he lets go and is vulnerable enough to show you his true feelings.
- 3/10 general approach, 9/10 women’s rights, 10/10 emotionally stunted.
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Foul Creature (Tobirama x Reader) Part VII
Synopsis: You would say that you grew up together. From children, to teenagers, to young leaders, you did nothing but be who you were and Tobirama would forever name his love for you as the reason he hated the Uchiha.
Word Count: 5k
Tags/Warnings: Warning for dark themes ahead, including graphic violence. Fem!Uchiha!Reader. Please consult AO3 for more specific warnings.
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII
Notes: Considering Izuna and Sasuke look so much alike, part of me wondered if I could use a picture of Sasuke for the front panel and if anyone would truly notice if I claimed it was a panel of Izuna haha
The gates to the Uchiha settlement were open, and enemy forces began gathering outside.
However, when describing the formidable territory the Uchiha had collected over the past few years, referring to their land as a settlement was a rather egregious understatement. The Uchiha gathered upon a sprawling territory equalling half the Grand Mountain range in addition to a handsome chunk of the flats, with the main sector they called home being in the center of the dense forest on a level section of the elevated land.
After a long and strenuous trek up the mountain, the foreign battalions sat in wait among the tree branches in the shadow of their last obstacle. Tall, jagged tree trunks lined the main sector of the Uchiha civilization, forming a wall stretching almost infinitely in both directions. The barrier was interrupted only by a single open gate.
It sprawled open in the cool night air. The sharpened ends of the wooden fortress pointed up toward the heavens, casting a jagged shadow across the ground to the treeline like ferocious teeth lining an agape jaw.
A slight breeze caused the leaves to waver as the shadow-shrouded leadership pondered the open gate. Desperation and bloodthirst were almost palpable among the forces, exacerbated by fatigue and impatience.
They ultimately trickled in against their better judgment, passing through the mouth of the Uchiha settlement in the moonlight. Years of passage in and out of the gate reduced the walking paths to little more than dirt and weeds.
The battalions pressed on. The commanding warriors motioned for their squads to fan out in the darkness, moving low and quietly to fan out among homes and buildings. The battalions proceeded stealthily across the beaten-down ground, filling the entire west end of the camp before they squatted in the darkness with weapons at the ready.
Stillness once again overtook the quiet compound.
The bright light of the full moon illuminated the settlement’s center, but the presence of the wooden fixtures left starkly black shadows around the camp’s perimeter. Even for nighttime, the shadows lingered a bit too largely among the buildings.
Not a single Uchiha walked the dirt paths or stood guard in the tall perches that littered the fortress walls. Those had been the largest consideration in the foreign battalion’s strategy, as with the sharingan eye, a single guard could see down to the base of the mountain and miles beyond. And yet, not a single Uchiha soul was to be seen or sensed in the dimness of the night.
A muffled grunt sounded at the back of one of the squads. Members of the rear squads turned in alert, only to find nothing there but a swordsman-less sword and a patch of trampled dirt.
And then the gate closed.
The honed ends slammed into ditches made in the ground long ago by movement. And before any response could be given to the disappearance of their most rear troops, all attention shot to the sealed-off exit. The invading force couldn’t help the surprised and horrified gasps that echoed through their ranks. Leadership hushed them quickly, whispering harsh words to recenter their feeble troops.
Red eyes began to illuminate the darkness.
Gurgling noises were swept off into the night as the warriors could only turn just in time to witness the corpses of their comrades being dragged off into the shadows. Kunai flew silently through the air. Blunt noises announced their impact, followed by the wet, squelching noises of blood spatter.
Members at the front of their squads were quick to light torches, illuminating the battlefield in a wave of flame to reveal the creeping Uchiha waiting in the murk. The Uchiha held their weapons at the ready with their piercing gazes. Some crouched near the ground, holding the bodies of warriors before them with slit throats. A few of the captured were twitching; heads hung as the barely alive men were forced to watch their own blood stain the fronts of their armor red.
With rage and fear in their eyes, the attacking forces led a charge, hollering out in the air with raised weapons. Their battle cries were enough for the battalions to summon back some courage lost at the sight of their fallen comrades. The clanging metal of swords filled the atmosphere as shouts rose toward the night sky. Uchiha stormed out from their hiding places, making expert use of their superior ocular abilities and quality weaponry.
The resistance was futile.
The sound of battle rang out, cries of pain only fueling the will of the Uchiha to defend their home. Forces gathered near the center of the main entry path, all having been stopped from moving farther. The enemy forces tried to press on in the face of their obstacle, but the bodies continued to drop. A mass of flesh and metal, the impact made an unmistakable clatter as carcasses hit the dirt below. One by one, they fell with a swiftness that dared to resemble mercy, and above them all, Madara emerged.
Madara Uchiha, who already had a tall and bulky figure in his teenage years, had filled out his crimson-red armor. It proudly adorned his broad chest and squared shoulders, the pieces clanging together harshly as he moved— like a snake’s warning rattle. Madara’s foot found soft flesh as he stood tall upon the mountain of corpses, his oversized weapon slung across the back of his shoulders and the full moon framing his head. He wore his scars pridefully, displaying his well-earned trophies as symbols of his strength. Madara was no longer a boy green in his leadership skills but a battle-hardened man.
And his vast, infamous reputation proceeded him.
A few warriors stood strong against him, holding their swords up as they cried out rageful battle cries, ready to engage in combat again. But they were far and few between compared to the forces that turned and attempted to flee.
Madara watched them with a critical eye, and the remaining warriors couldn’t help but glance out of their peripherals in horror as their remaining comrades were cut down as they ran back toward the closed gates.
It was a massacre led by Izuna Uchiha.
He expertly swung his katana— his movements looking far more like a dance than a slaughter— pivoting in a single place as he cut down the fleeing forces that passed. The retreating forces who managed to make it past pounded on the closed entrance as those on the outside of the crowd were slowly picked off one by one.
They clamored over each other, stepping on one another as they tried to climb up the towering fortress walls. Their wailing and begging resounded into the darkness of the night as Izuna moved in, his Mangekyō Sharingan allowing him to pay little regard to any attacking soldiers as he cut them down with ease.
The night turned silent once again.
Tall torches were lit, lighting the battlefield in a rich glow. The cleanup began as Uchiha dragged corpses and barely alive men through the dirt to a pyre. Children scrambled through the blood-stained village to collect weaponry that could be melted down and reforged.
Madara searched the piles of bodies himself, stalking through them like a proud tiger. Sharingan still ignited, he searched for survivors. Madara plucked one out of the pile by his hair. A strangled, boyish cry pierced the rotting atmosphere as Madara threw him down into a puddle of mud and blood.
The swordsman, a boy no older than seventeen, picked his face up and laid against the bodies of his slain comrades. A gaping wound stretched across his stomach at the bottom of his ribcage, staining the cloth he wore under his armor a sickly dark red.
Madara stared down at him with severe eyes. The black patterns were still swirling within the reds of his irises. The young swordsman met his gaze head-on like a cornered and wounded animal, teeth clenched and brow knitted.
His shaking fingers tightened weakly around the hilt of his sword, and in one last act of defiance, the young warrior pointed the tip of his weapon at Madara.
The entire sword shook.
Madara watched the display without expression, meeting the young warrior's gaze with a blank scowl. The young warrior quirked a semblance of a smile, painfully aware of his impending fate.
Madara extinguished his sharingan, ignoring how the sword’s tip swayed with the boy’s dwindling strength. It was kicked away, and Madara took the boy by the hair again, dragging him off.
The young warrior moaned in agony but ultimately couldn’t do much to resist. Madara dragged the boy along the ground, filth that wasn’t his own collecting in the young warrior’s mouth as the skin on his torso tore. His head hit one stair, then another, and when Madara threw him down again, he found himself on a wood floor.
The room was warm.
When the young warrior opened his eyes, he could barely make out what he was looking at, but then the handcrafted cabinets became focused. Vials of plants in vials lined the shelves. Dried flowers sat suspended in liquids. He couldn’t take his eye off the jar in the center of his sight: a thick-looking clear liquid with the heads of white flowers floating within. The petals were slightly curled, but the flowers retained their overall structure. He couldn’t think; he could only stare at the little flowers suspended inside.
He heard footsteps above him, somewhere just farther into the little building. The boy laid curled in on himself, unable to see much more than the shelf in front of him and Madara’s long legs, which ended somewhere out of his sight. The sound of the steps he couldn’t place was light and stopped short of him.
“I will grab another cot,” a woman spoke.
Cot? For him?
“No need,” Madara quickly cut her off. A few other Uchiha warriors entered the door, but the young swordsman could barely register anything. “Handle this swiftly.”
Another set of steps vibrated harshly through the wood floor. The young warrior’s eyes moved weakly, spying a familiar green armor from one of his allies. An Uchiha warrior hauled the corpse. The green-clad sleeve wavered limply in the air. He might have wondered how many of his comrades had been taken to this place if he had had more strength.
“Stay here.” The lighter steps walked off again. Even though they were traveling away, they were louder this time. The wood floor adjusted. The young warrior’s chest clenched, instinctively jumpy at unseen movement near his head.
“I have informed you that there is no need.”
“Ah, let another boy bleed out onto my floor then. I will ensure that the mop makes it to your hand,” the woman quickly snapped back. More noises resounded through the wood floor as she seemed to drag something forward. It sounded large if such a sound existed. There came a pause. “Well, do you intend to make yourself useful?”
“Woman!” The shout was loud enough to make the boy flinch. He wrapped an arm over his stomach. The bleeding wouldn’t stop. He could hardly feel the sting of the dirt contaminating his insides. “Do not push your luck.”
Before he could comprehend, the young warrior was lifted up. He gasped in pain, a noise of distress falling from his lips as his wound stretched before he settled on an elevated cot. A thick layer of fabric sat between him and the thin mat. A lantern light flashed, blinding him for just a moment as a set of hands came over his wound.
When he cracked open his eyes, he saw you. You stood over him, one hand stopping the bleeding of his large wound with a clean cloth. He flinched away as the other came toward his forehead. You brushed away some wet strands of hair stuck to his sticky forehead.
Madara stood a few feet behind you, watching over your shoulder. He took a long stride forward.
“That is enough with your nonnecessities,” he protested. You dismissed him with a sound of annoyance, holding your hand out to prevent him from getting any closer.
“If you cannot control yourself, you may wait outside,” you nodded without a second thought, departing from the young warrior’s vision again.
“Woman—” The foreign boy felt a sharp movement somewhere out of his vision. He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of quick pivots and the sound of fabric snapping. Madara’s armor rattled. But the sound of a palm slapping skin that the boy anticipated didn’t come, and after a beat of slowly declining tension, you padded somewhere deeper into the room.
You left a cool breeze in your wake, and to his surprise, Madara remained quiet where he stood. The Uchiha clan head puffed to himself, the simmering of his temper not yet reaching a boil.
The door swung open, allowing night air to flow into the room, but the new spectator didn’t announce his presence.
The foreign warrior could hear you fiddling with something in your hands. Rapidly weakening, all the young warrior could do was hold the fabric you slipped under his hand on his wound.
When you appeared over him again, the lantern light illuminated the back of your head like a halo. And as you pressed something into his mouth, he couldn’t help but consider you one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.
Even at this hour, your hair draped gracefully over your brow. You had grown into your awkward features from adolescence, your immature frame having settled nicely into a distribution of healthy adult weight and functional muscle. You filled out in the way your biology intended. This might have been the first time he’s ever seen you, but the way your skilled hands and sharp mind held a commanding presence over your apothecary didn’t escape him— even as the elite Uchiha warriors hovered over your shoulder with every move.
You must be Madara’s wife, the young warrior presumed somewhere in the fog of his dizzying head. He considered the thought amusing, for who else could talk to the infamous warrior Madara like you had?
“Tell me—” You spoke gently and turned the young warrior’s head to the side to face you. You wiped off some of the grime that caked his face. —“What clan do you hail from?” Your hand wrapped gingerly around his wrist, and two fingers rested below his palm. The words spilled from his lips without a second thought.
“Sugai,” he answered as if his throat had retained strength while the rest of his body waivered. The word spilled out from his lips. He hardly registered it himself.
The handful of warriors who stood behind Madara muttered amongst themselves.
“The Sugai Clan…”
“Were all your comrades members of the Sugai Clan?” you questioned. Were. You didn’t even have to leave your apothecary to know what happened to the rest. The young warrior didn’t register your tense. He only answered.
“Not all,” he said before his voice drifted into a faint whisper. You leaned down so that your ear sat adjacent to his lips. Strands of your hair fell over the clammy skin of his face. You kept a keen watch over the young warrior’s hands. The cloth on his stomach had changed colors completely.
You continued your questioning and interrogation in a soft, low voice. You muttered to each other in the lantern light. Madara waited with frustrated anticipation, simmering to himself. After all, Madara had little patience for your involvement to begin with.
“It appears that the Senju have migrated north.” You finally resurfaced, adjusting your robes and releasing your hold on the babbling boy on the cot below. “They are snatching up alliances, it seems.”
“The Sugai Clan has allied with the Senju?” one of the Uchiha warriors questioned from behind you. Madara swiftly hushed him.
“Silence.” The room returned to a standstill in an instant, nearly militantly. Madara took a moment to think to himself, crossing his thick arms over his blood-stained chest plate. He stared at the dying warrior on the cot, watching as the pool of red crept onto the fabric below. His eyes flickered to yours. —“Not just the Sugai, but all minor clans in the east have been pushed from their territories. The raid tonight was unsurprising, to say the least—” Madara glanced outside through a sliver in the ajar door as the bodies piled up outside. “Clearly.”
“Four other small clans to the southeast have allied with the Sugai now that the land between Uchiha and Senju dwindles by the day,” you added, leaning against the counter. A jar of processed flower buds— the same that you had shoved into the young warrior’s mouth— sat next to your elbow. Your eyes flickered again to Madara’s, watching him closely to gauge his demeanor. You were the interrogator, but then again, when the head of the Uchiha ordered silence, even you were not immune.
“Indeed—” He chose not to regard you. —“We expected as much. This information is not new.”
Without a second thought, Madara swiftly cut the throat of the Sugai warrior before swiftly retreating out the door with his war fan.
One of the men behind him collected the young warrior, throwing him over his shoulder to be burned with the rest of the corpses. The boy coughed up blood, spewing it onto the wood flooring.
The door flapped back and forth in the doorframe. You watched as Madara and his pack of elite soldiers left between sways of the door. They grew smaller in the distance with every wave. You lurched forward, intent on following after them, but an arm swiftly wrapped around your torso. The motion almost swept you off your feet as Izuna’s shoulder blocked you from racing out the door. He gave a bit into your velocity, pivoting a half-step backward.
“Do not go outside,” he warned. You gripped the arm holding you, looking into Izuna’s dark eyes. A neutral expression held his face in acute severity. You didn’t miss how he held you at a calculated distance. Izuna’s lip shuddered once.
“You are not my keeper, Izuna. It is not your place to stand in my way.” You brushed him off and ripped your arm away from his stern grip before readjusting the shoulder of your robes. He let you, watching the backs of your robes while uncertainty swam in his dark irises. You set out through the door.
“Madara!”
Madara ignored you, pretending not to hear as he stormed away, but by the third shout of his name, he reluctantly stopped in his tracks. His posse of elite military figures passed by him as Madara heaved a heavy sigh, his armor clattering with the motion before he turned to you. You made your way down the stairs. Smoke and mild debris wafted through the air as the Uchiha warriors made short work of tidying up the settlement.
“Madara!” You called again as he lumbered over to you. He held his back erect with his weapon still clasped tightly in his hand. Madara said nothing as he expressed his usual stoic demeanor. You stood at the bottom step of the apothecary with one foot on the ground. Madara stopped a few meters away, still within earshot. He did not appear anywhere near as concerned as you were as you questioned him with wide eyes, “Are you unconcerned that Hashirama has been named head of the Senju clan?”
Your words remained stuck in the air, caught by the particles and impurities that danced in the atmosphere. The smell of death floated in the cool, nighttime wind.
Madara’s lip dipped into a frown.
“Lack of concern would be reckless indeed,” Madara muttered, puffing another deep breath out his chest. He pivoted slightly, turning his attention upward toward the moon. “However, it is not as reckless as refusing an alliance with the Senju based on Hashirama’s lack of leadership experience alone in favor of attacking the Uchiha. Small clans certainly have foresight equivalent to their size. The Sugai prove to be no different.”
“I worry about what this change in leadership will bring. It is most unpredictable.”
“Then it is fortunate that you are not in a position to worry yourself over such things.” Madara barked out what could have been mistaken for a laugh. “We have engaged with the Senju countless times. Formidable as they may be, the strength of the Uchiha is far greater.”
He dismissed you with a wave of his hand, returning to head deeper into the settlement again. Now that you had inserted yourself into village politics, Madara had had enough of humoring you. You followed.
“Tobirama Senju is a foul, beasty man. I can only imagine how— how objectionable the older one must be.”
Madara moved with wide strides, continuing with extra swiftness to purposefully lose you.
“And what do you know of Tobirama?” Madara scoffed. He faced forward, completely missing the expression of dread that fell across your face.
“The tales from Izuma, of course!” You quickened your pace.
Madara stopped once again, but you ran straight into his backplate this time. You stumbled back, a hand to your nose. Madara barked orders into the orderly chaos in front of you. He had taken to his role as clan head long ago and excelled in the position.
“For yet another time, you need not concern yourself with affairs on the battlefield. Do you understand this?” Madara only spared a glance over his shoulder at you. His irises flickering across your form with something akin to skepticism. Madara averted his gaze before you could meet it.
“You bring foreign boys to my doorsteps to rifle information from—”
“Enemy warriors who attacked your kinsmen and home.”
—“And you expect—”
“I expect you to hold your tongue and obey your clan head.” You stopped in the middle of your sentence at the sight of Madara’s sharingan. You frowned but looked away. You had pressed as far as Madara would allow. “Clean what you must in the apothecary swiftly, then go straight home.”
You retreated the way you came back toward the apothecary, sparing not even a pout of defiance at your clan head.
When you arrived, you found your space pleasantly lit as you pressed open the door. Izuna stood in the center of the room by the counter. A bundle of incense sat between his clasped hands. Izuna muttered a prayer as the smoke cleansed the apothecary. Death had occurred here, after all.
Izuna had lit every lantern and candle in the apothecary with his fire style, and the warm embers lit your workshop in a serene glow. The flame flickered in the reflection of the jar that held your truth-telling flower buds. A small line of smoke drifted from the incense, sailing up toward the high ceiling far above your heads. He followed the wisps with his eyes, tilting his chin up as he appeared deep in thought.
You guided the apothecary door shut behind you. Izuna continued to withhold his eye contact, almost as if you wouldn’t notice him and shoo him away if he didn’t meet your eye. The cleaning supplies had already been brought out of storage. The bloody cot— along with the others from earlier in the night— was gone, along with the bloody streak across your floor.
You stepped forward to inspect the wood paneling. No, some of the blood stains still remained, deepening the color of the previous one, which deepened the one before that.
“Women should not have to be so close to such barbarism,” Izuna spoke, gaze training on the little jar of flower buds. He placed the incense in a ceramic holder, lingering for only a second before finally turning to face you directly.
The orientation of his clothes appeared neat compared to the rest of him. Sweat, dirt, and blood layered his skin, deepening the complexion of his skin tone. Spatterings littered his armor. A prominent line of rust-red extended from his chest to over his right eye, bisecting his face with sanguinary matter. But his hands were clean— starkly pale and pristine in comparison to the blackish mix of earth and gore that stained his skin above his wrists.
“I will be standing guard outside,” he said, “I am well aware that you will not be sleeping tonight. I would normally protest, but it is preferable to you venturing outside.”
“Izuna—”
He offered you a nod and little else as he began to walk toward the door, the back of his robes fluttering with his stride. You stepped after him, swiftly snatching his sleeve. Izuna turned to you, his motion gentle.
“Izuna, please. You are being ridiculous.” It was uncomfortable meeting his eye. He looked intently at you as if just speaking was a contract binding his full, undivided attention. Even without his sharingan, it felt like he was looking right through you. “Stay. Let me treat your hands and cleanse your armor.”
Izuna’s gaze flickered gently down to your hand as he slotted his index finger into your grip on his sullied robes. He cocked his head to the side, more interested in searching for grime he may have transferred onto his skin than your protests.
“My presence here is unsanitary and overstayed.” He took your fingers in his, gently prying your stubborn hold off his sleeve.
“Bathe then and come back.”
He held your attention as he slowly circled you, backing up until he put himself between you and the door. Izuna continued to gingerly hold your hand as if keeping his touch on you would prevent you from acting recklessly. His lips quirked to the side at your notion, and unlike his older brother, who you could read like an open book, Izuna remained as composed as ever.
“Your attempts to deceive me into disclosing information about the military ventures of the clan are admirable, but I am not so easily fooled.” He gave your hand a soft squeeze.
“As if I would dare attempt to trick you—” You could barely speak the full sentence without your lips crinkling in guilt. Izuna’s cheeks creased, forming deep dimples on both sides of his mouth. He slowly released your hand.
“I will be right outside.”
“We hardly spend time together anymore. Do you remember our expeditions into the forest when we were children?” you trailed off. “Before all that happened…” Izuna suddenly formed an air of seriousness about him.
Izuna was the only one you told about your encounter with Tobirama— or, more precisely— that Tobirama had been the one to attack you. The feud between the Uchiha and the Senju had raged for generations, but confrontations rarely left the battlefield as the two large clans carved up territory. So when a warrior in training from the Senju attacked an unarmed Uchiha girl, the clan was outraged.
You left willingly to the coast with family and a few others. Although, given that the art of fishing knots was passed down matrilineally, this wasn’t out of the ordinary.
You were told it was to practice a protection ritual in the salty waters and lend your hands to bringing in fresh, coastal resources, but a deep part of you knew that the clan leaders worried about the Senju targeting young girls. And if any resource was more valuable to the Uchiha than salted fish or powdered shells, it was the upcoming generation of young women, for who would bear the next generation of Uchiha warriors otherwise?
In the wake of the Senju raid on the village, your relationship with Tobirama weighed heavily on you, blanketing your head and shoulders as his fur had for too many nights by the river.
Izuna seemed like the right person to tell.
You masked it as a realization. He only asked you how you knew Tobirama had been the one to attack you so long ago. Your response was vague, but Izuna didn’t push.
“It would not be wise of me to overstay.” His voice was gentle when he finally spoke. His light tone snapped you from the rabbit hole of memories that instantly plagued your head. Izuna backed up to the door, his fingers pressing into the wood. The flames that topped your simple candles wavered, but Izuna’s eyes didn’t budge from yours. He looked at you with a soft certainty. “I will be right outside.”
“Izuna—” You took a step forward but stopped short. His brows perked up slightly on his forehead as he let out a light hum. He held the door slightly ajar. “I—” Your words left you under the subtle pressure of Izuna’s gaze. You toyed with the seam of your robes but kept your attention locked with his. “Madara still fancies me.”
It was meant to be a question, but the words left your lips definitively, almost like an accusation. Izuna’s expression didn’t change, and his forced stoicism only served to confirm your hunch. The corners of your lips fell with your shoulders.
You turned with a snap, facing the counter behind you. You gripped the wooden ledge, intending to find something to make you look busy, but to no avail. Izuna continued to stand with the door ajar, unmoving.
“Why is it always about what Madara wants?” you puffed. Silence overtook the apothecary. The flames continued to waver. “It is true. You are far too loyal, Izuna. Do you not know of such things?”
The door creaked farther open before stopping. You refused to turn around, even as the back of your neck and back began to feel heated by the imaginary gaze that haunted your curiosity.
You took a breath, tilting your head toward a large jar on one of your shelves. You could just barely make out Izuna’s figure as he stood in the doorway, not wholly committed to facing fully away from you.
“I will be right outside until you are prepared to retire.”
The wooden door creaked quietly open before swinging closed, wavering in the night.
Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.
Author Commentary: Timeskiiip! They're all grown up! When I was writing this fic I imagined it like how they reintroduce all the nostalgic characters in a Pirates of the Caribbean movie. That's it, moving forward imagine Foul Creature of the set of pirates! That will certainly work! Tobirama may not be in this chapter, but rest assured this is still a Tobirama fic.
More importantly: In my experience, I always thought that people didn't like when series were, say, more than 5ish chapters. I found that a lot of people lost interest, so I tried to keep chapters themselves long and the quantity of them to a minimum. In my latest poll, most people didn't have a preference, but after that, people liked multiple shorter chapters. I wanted to wrap this series up in 2-4 long chapters, but maybe I'll drag it out a bit so I can post more frequently. Thoughts?
@gracefulbumblebee @norasincubi @rahatake
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII
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