Poincaré Recurrence Theorem
A month later, it is as though Tobirama’s near death never happened and didn’t pull the rug out from under Hashirama’s feet.
His brother returns to his administrative and supervisory duties as soon as he is able to walk around again and, for seemingly everyone else, things just go back to normal. As soon as his recovery period concludes without complications and he receives a clean bill of health, Tobirama simply returns his name to the active-duty roster.
It feels like Hashirama is the only one who feels any discomfort with things returning to their previous status quo.
For his part, Tobirama is acting like nothing was ever wrong to begin with. He is polite to those who wish him a fast recovery, but that may as well be the only reminder of what happened to him. Tobirama is just as unreadable as ever, and he does his work to its usual standard of perfection. Like he didn’t almost die that day in the woods. Like Hashirama didn’t have to force his heart to beat and artificially keep his organs from shutting down.
In some ways, it’s a little bit like he is going insane.
Hashirama can’t help but stare at Tobirama over the low dining table they eat at every night, searching for any sign of fatigue or pain. He finds nothing, and yet, he is disconcerted. Biting his lip, he ventures, “Are you sure you have recovered entirely? I mean, there’s nothing wrong with holding off on joining the roster if you do need some more time. It would be perfectly understandable after all, and—”
“Anija,” Tobirama interrupts, the barest of frown tugging at his mouth with disapproval, “I am well enough now. There is no need to waste any more time.”
“It’s not a waste,” Hashirama says. “This is about your health, Tobira. I just don’t want to take any risks.”
Something unreadable passes over Tobirama’s face as he regards Hashirama with a closed sort of contemplation. “The medics have already cleared me,” he states simply after a moment, turning back to his bowl of seaweed soup. “There is no need to worry unnecessarily.”
There is a note of finality in his words that has Hashirama biting down on his tongue to swallow the argument that wants to burst out of him regardless. He doesn’t want to ruin dinner again. Still, he can’t help his concern, finding that his gaze drifts over to Tobirama time and time again; like his brother will disappear if Hashirama isn’t actively looking at him.
It’s silly, of course. He knows this. Tobirama is right here and half is meal is still left to finish. He isn’t going anywhere, and even if he is, the odds of something happening to him just because he isn’t in Hashirama’s immediate line of sight are pretty low.
But isn’t that just when they’re at the compound? Missions are so much more unpredictable, even the relatively harmless ones. What if something goes wrong when Tobirama is further away from home and without backup? What if he isn’t as recovered as he thinks he is and he falls ill during a mission and has no one to help him?
“Stop that,” Tobirama snaps him out of his reverie succinctly, furrowing his brows. “I can practically see you thinking unnecessary things.”
Hashirama’s shoulders slump. “Sorry,” he mumbles insincerely, ducking his head.
“What are you even worried about? It’s not like it will be my first mission.”
Unable to help but gape at him for that, Hashirama flounders for a moment. “Of course, I’m worried, Tobirama,” he says almost helplessly. “You didn’t see yourself when you came home from your last mission. You almost died. Do you understand that? Do you even care? Can you imagine what it was like for the rest of us? For me?”
Great, now Hashirama has raised his voice and gotten emotional and ruined dinner. He exhales harshly and presses the heel of his palm against his eye, counting to ten in his head.
But Tobirama isn’t snapping back as he usually would at this point. Instead, he regards Hashirama with a contemplative frown and carefully sets his chopsticks down as he leans back. “I do care, anija,” he admits quietly after a moment. “I care that you suffered while you waited for me. However, that is a matter of the past, and now, I am more concerned with my duty.”
Numbly, Hashirama repeats, “Your duty.”
“As a shinobi of this clan, yes,” Tobirama says, nodding. He pauses momentarily before adding, “We cannot wait any longer for me to return to work, anija. Not unless you want to field doubts regarding how you manage your subordinates and allow an opening for the factions of our council that wish to use any opening at all against you. I will not allow such a thing to occur in my name.”
It is more candid than Tobirama has allowed himself to be in years. Hashirama blinks hard, trying to remember the last time his brother exercised this much patience with him. More often than not, when Hashirama starts to explode, Tobirama retaliates with an equivalent amount of cold vitriol. Once they have both spat enough barbed words at one another to leave themselves empty, they simply move and do not speak of it again. This kind of explanation is…unusual.
But not unwelcome at all. Hashirama finds it grounding. He struggles so much to try and figure out what Tobirama is thinking, especially because his brain works so differently and at a much faster speed than Hashirama’s. It helps to have these things spelled out to him. He is glad this didn’t escalate. At least there is still a chance to salvage this dinner.
He bites the inside of his cheek. “You will be careful,” he all but orders after a moment. “And if it looks like things are going south, don’t bother with the mission and just come back home right away. I’ll deal with any fallout, okay? You’re more valuable to the clan than the success of any mission.”
The lines of Tobirama’s face soften as his lips twitch up into a small smile. A wisp of the glacier-thunder-nightfall-snow of his chakra reaches out to carefully brush against Hashirama’s own rainforest-daybreak-willow-storm.
“Alright, anija.”
While Tobirama is gone, it always feels like Hashirama’s stack of paperwork manages to magically triple in size.
In some ways, it manages to serve as a decent enough distraction if nothing else. He can’t think of the gnawing pit of anxiety in his stomach (or much of anything else either really) when he is buried in endless reports, proposals and plans.
In other ways, Hashirama is convinced that the only meaningful legacy he will be leaving behind is one where his biggest defeat will be at the hands of unfinished paperwork.
He is just in the middle of braving his way through a report on budget revision when his assistant—Ayame—knocks on his door and informs him of a missive that requires his urgent attention. Frowning, Hashirama beckons her in and accepts the scroll, barely having to glance at it to understand why Ayame flagged it up to him immediately.
Written on high quality washi paper embroidered with gold, with the whirlpool symbol of the Uzumaki crest sealing the letter shut, there is no doubt at all that the letter has come to them from the island of Uzushiogakure where their sister clan resides.
Hashirama swallows his nervousness and carefully unseals the scroll to reveal its contents. Their last communication had been two years ago, when the Uzumaki had expressed condolences for the passing of Senju Butsuma. He doesn’t have to wonder about what they might want though—after all, at this point, it can only be one thing.
And just as expected, the letter is a decorated reminder that it is nearly time for their clans to renew their alliance. In fifteen months, it will have been seventy-five years since the previous ceremony. Enclosed in the letter are auspicious dates for Hashirama to choose to set the renewal ceremony on and a proposed itinerary for all the things that are expected to precede the renewal itself.
In little over a year, Hashirama is expected to marry Uzumaki Mito and solidify the ties of their clans once more.
The Uzumaki suggest they formally conduct the betrothal ceremony in a month’s time, so they can commence with the cultural exchange and the bridal payment. Hashirama sighs and leans back in his chair. Preparation for the betrothal will need to begin immediately if they want to be ready to receive the Uzumaki entourage in a month’s time.
That means even more paperwork for him.
The Senju-Uzumaki alliance is one that is renewed every seventy-five years through a political marriage between the most compatible, high-ranking match available to them. It has been a while since a match as high profile as the current has one been made, and both of their clans have assumed it to be an auspicious sign.
Preceding the wedding ceremony and official renewal, however, is a brief exchange of members between the clans so they can learn from one another and share the learnings with their respective clansmen by the end. It is a good way to maintain more personal connections between the clans and to broaden their individual horizons by observing the benefits and pitfalls experienced by a different culture.
The exchange is also when the bridal price duties are traditionally performed. Some cultures do this through literal payments, but it is custom for the Senju and Uzumaki to ascribe to the more traditional practice of the groom performing labour for the bride’s household. It had more relevance in the past, naturally, when their clans were engaged in farming and fishing as their livelihoods instead of being shinobi, but the tradition is still upheld for the devotion it shows.
As the clan head, unfortunately, Hashirama cannot be expected to leave his position vacant for so long, so it falls to Tobirama as his only other kin to pay the bride price in his stead.
It had been this way in Tobirama’s first life as well. In fact, this is how he came to learn the bulk of his fuuinjutsu along with the more in-depth concepts of metaphysics, astrophysics, and quantum mechanics that eventually resulted in the creation of the hiraishin formula.
Considering the Uzumaki are essentially royalty on Uzushio, it’s not like they need someone to come in and help take some of the burdens of their workload off them. They thought it would be far more beneficial if they could cultivate goodwill with Tobirama so he would willingly act as support for Mito when she moved to live with the Senju and eventually made her mark in the intra-clan politics. Having the clan heir look out for her would make it harder for any elders to pick on her or for anyone to try and give her a hard time for cultural differences.
He expects this time to be much the same.
His brush against death might have brought about a few changes among the Senju, but nothing he has done should have any unforeseen effects on the Uzumaki.
“Do you have to go for the full nine months?” Hashirama asks, snapping him out of his thoughts, dangerously close to whining as his lips push into a pout that immediately makes Tobirama want to smack him.
Exercising truly inhuman amounts of patience, Tobirama inhales deeply and continues packing, pretending not to see Hashirama’s little attempts to delay him by hiding some of his belongings. Clearly, it’s making him feel better. Tobirama can extract an appropriate amount of retribution later.
“Yes, anija,” he says in response to Hashirama’s question. “I have to set a good example for the rest of our clansmen who will be accompanying me. Besides, it would insult your in-laws if I refused their hospitability and returned early. Unless you don’t care about your future wife’s family disliking us?”
Grumbling because he knows he has been caught, Hashirama sulks and mumbles, “Of course I care.” He crosses his arms and sighs. “Nine months is so long though. You will be gone until winter. I’ll be so lonely, Tobira!”
Tobirama raises his eyebrows and makes sure to roll his eyes where Hashirama won’t miss it. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he chides, frowning. “You will have plenty to do with looking after the Uzumaki entourage and making sure they see the clan favourably. Besides, you love meeting new people. You should be looking forward to this.”
“Well, yes, but I don’t want to not see you for nine months,” Hashirama huffs, sliding one of Tobirama’s scrolls into his sleeves when he thinks his brother isn’t looking. “How am I supposed to manage without you?”
“Elder Takao and his grandson have agreed to take over my duties. Your work should remain unaffected so long as you complete everything on time.”
It is Hashirama’s turn to roll his eyes now. “I’m not talking about work, silly. Who is going to take up your little brother duties while you’re gone?”
Tobirama pauses, squinting at his elder brother as he repeats slowly, “Little brother duties.”
Hashirama beams and nods, pleased with himself.
“You’re so strange, anija,” Tobirama announces, shaking his head as he approaches his chest of clothes. “Figure it out. Just because you refuse to act like an adult doesn’t mean you aren’t one.”
With an exaggerated wail, Hashirama leaps to tug at Tobirama’s sleeve now that he is within reach. “Don’t be so cold, Tobira!” he whines. “You’re so mean to your anija. I’m trying to tell you I’ll miss you and you’re just bullying me.”
Scowling, Tobirama tries to shake his limpet of a brother off to no avail. “Let go!” he demands, planting his feet so he won’t fall over as Hashirama clearly wants him to. “Anija, let go right now or I’ll throw away all your sake!”
Hashirama simply takes the threat as an invitation to wail even louder. “A heartbreaker!” he screeches. “You’re a heartbreaker, Tobirama!”
“Shut up!”
“You will write, won’t you?” Hashirama asks quietly as he holds Tobirama close and shrouds them in his chakra, uncaring of the many eyes on them seeing as most of the clan has gathered to see off the delegation heading to Uzushio.
There is a part of Tobirama that is set on edge by even this much openly displayed affection, hating that this kind of vulnerability that should be private is being put on show for the entire clan to see. A much larger part of him, however, knows that this is important to Hashirama and refuses to push him away because his brother’s happiness is far more important to him than his own fear.
Besides, it has been a while since Tobirama allowed himself such indulgence. In both lifetimes, he has not been held in what feels like years, and as much as he is set on edge by it, he is equally comforted to be so close to his anija again. It settles an itch under his skin that he hadn’t noticed, and he finds himself almost reluctant to part from the warmth his brother radiates or his familiar scent which he has sorely missed.
Tucking his face into Hashirama’s shoulder to hide his ears that feel suspiciously warm, Tobirama nods briefly. “I will,” he promises softly.
Hashirama sighs in what might be relief, squeezing him in silent gratitude. “Good,” he says. “Don’t take too long to come back, okay? I will miss you.”
It is not in Tobirama’s nature to say the things that seem so easy for Hashirama to express. Still, he lets his chakra swirl around his brother’s, pushing however-far-away-i-will-always-love-you into it as he lingers for just a second longer in his brother’s embrace.
When he does step away, Hashirama’s eyes are bright with tears, the same crooked smile from their childhood on his face. “Go on now. Try to have some fun while you’re there. I will see you soon.”
Curling his fingers into fists to hide the tremble in them, he pointedly does not think about the last time he remembers saying goodbye to his elder brother in another life. Tobirama nods again. “Do your paperwork on time. Touka will let me know if you don’t and I will not be happy with you,” he warns warily.
Hashirama laughs, looking surprised. “I’ll do my best,” he agrees warmly.
“Then, I shall take my leave. Goodbye, anija.”
“Take care, Tobira.”
“I always do.”