Dark Matter
Uzushio is just as Tobirama remembers it—buildings made of white stone carved into the cliff face of the range of hills the entire city is built upon, their scarlet roofs bright under the sparkling sunlight, colourful banners blinking in and out of sight, spots of forestry scattered in between.
Tobirama has memories of this place though he has never visited in this life, and still he finds himself caught off-guard, helpless but to stare up at the city that seems to rise right out of the sea like something out a fairytale.
Undeniably, it is beautiful.
He barely manages to tear his eyes away long enough to disembark from the ship they took to get here and approach the committee that has clearly gathered at the docks to welcome them to the island that will be housing them for the next nine months.
At the head of the group is a man in his late thirties with long auburn hair tied in a loose tail at his nape, green eyes surrounded by crows’ feet that only become more pronounced as he smiles warmly to greet Tobirama. “Welcome to Uzushio, Senju-dono! It is our honour to host you and those of your clan for the next many months. I trust you did not encounter any unforeseen hardships during your journey here?” the man says, using Land of Fire’s dialect which is considered the standard language in the Continent even though Uzushio has a separate language system since they were never conquered by Fire during unification.
Tobirama dips his head slightly, lightly sweeping his gaze over the rest of the committee as he does. “Thank you very much for your hospitality. We are most pleased to be able to meet you like this. Rest assured the journey gave us no trouble at all.”
The man laughs, the sound rich and unfiltered. “I am relieved to hear that,” he says sincerely. “I am Uzumaki Ryusuke. For the duration of your stay on the island, each of you has been assigned a host and guide of sorts. I will be yours, so if there is ever anything you need, please do not hesitate to let me know, Senju-dono.”
Tobirama recognises him. Ryusuke is the only brother of Uzumaki Minakami—the current Uzumaki clan head and also the king of Uzushio. He is Mito’s uncle and the man with the second highest standing on the island, serving as right hand to the king, the captain of his guard, and the general of their army. He is also a sealmaster in his own right. For all intents and purposes, on this island, he is Tobirama’s equal in status.
However, Tobirama is a Senju. Their clan is one that ascribes strictly to hierarchy of age. It makes Tobirama uncomfortable to be addressed so formally by someone who is his senior in age even if they are of a rank.
Clearing his throat, he softly says, “I am Senju Tobirama. Please, feel free to address me casually.”
Ryusuke looks pleasantly surprised by request, eyebrows rising. “Would that be alright?”
“Of course,” Tobirama replies, nodding, absently tracking the progress of his clansmen as they too finish disembarking from the ship with a shred of sensory chakra. “After all, I am not here as the Senju clan heir, but to fulfil the duties my brother cannot with regards to your family.”
Something in the older shinobi’s face softens and he inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Very well then,” he says, informally this time, flashing Tobirama a grin. “You need not be so formal around me either.”
“As you wish, Ryusuke-san.”
“Shall we get going then? I’m sure you would like to see your quarters and get some rest after your travels,” the man suggests, gesturing to lead the way into the city. “The rest of your people will similarly be led to their host family’s homes.”
They already received the list of hosts and a brief description of their positions on the island. Not to mention that Tobirama is more than capable of keeping track of his clansmen’s whereabouts from anywhere on this island. He is not worried.
He inclines his head and gestures for Ryusuke to lead the way.
Absently readjusting the billowing sleeves of his loose white and green shirt, Ryusuke guides Tobirama down through the harbour and falls into step beside him once they are in the city. “Unfortunately, most of the main family is too caught up with daily duties to come greet you right now, but they will host a welcome banquet for you tonight and are looking forward to meeting you then.”
Tobirama hums. “I see.”
Ryusuke considers him for a moment, glancing sidelong. “You are sixteen, yes, Tobirama-kun?”
“Seventeen, as of a month ago.”
“Ah, yes, my apologies. You are rather close in age to Mito,” Ryusuke comments offhandedly. “That is good. I’m sure the two of you will get along.”
Tobirama knows they will if she is anything like she is in the memories he has of her. His sister-in-law is a fiercely strong and intelligent woman with a flair for ruthlessness that he has always found impressive. Honestly, he says, “I look forward to meeting her.”
Ryusuke flashes him a smile. “Would you like to walk through the city, or shall we take to the rooftops?”
In response, Tobirama simply leaps up to the nearest rooftop and looks down expectantly at his guide.
Laughing as he joins him, Ryusuke tosses his hair, green eyes twinkling. “I’m sure that we will get along as well, Tobirama-kun.”
Tobirama allows himself the barest of smiles at this. “I will be in your care, Ryusuke-san.”
Mito lets out a measured breath as she watches over the activities of the banquet, observing the excitement in the air as her clansmen wait for their guests to arrive so that the dinner may finally commence. It is understandable why they are looking forward to this—Uzushio so rarely allows guests, after all.
That is why everyone on the island is excited for the renewal of this alliance. The Senju have always been their primary point of contact with the world beyond their barriers. With a marriage between their names and the sharing of their resources, Uzushio’s footing will be restored once again in the outside world and they can use the immediate boost to branch out a little bit further.
One could argue that the alliance should be one of consistent benefit, but really, it comes down to the match and how influential the couple is in both clans. For the past two centuries, the pairs have been close to ordinary and there simply wasn’t enough incentive on either side to go out of their way for the other.
This time will be different though. The match for this renewal is one between the Senju clan head and the Uzumaki princess—both powerful people in their respective homelands. For Mito’s sake, the Uzumaki will lend a hand to the Senju among whom she will be sent to live, and for the sake of Hashirama’s legacy, the Senju will ensure that the Uzumaki influence is spread through the lands once more.
Hence, the almost palpable anticipation in the air as they wait for the Senju delegation to walk through the gilded doors of the Uzumaki communal hall.
As if in response to her own thoughts, the doors are finally opened to reveal the group of foreigners.
Mito straightens to attention just as her father rises to his feet to welcome the newcomers, a smile fixed on his tanned face. “My friends, please give a warm welcome to our honoured guests from the Senju clan!” Minakami says in the common tongue before switching to the Fire dialect and addressing the guests in question. “It is our honour to host you for the next nine months. This celebration is to mark the joyous beginning of this wonderful experience. I hope you will find your stay on the island of Uzushio to be most fruitful and I look forward to what we might learn from one another in this duration. Please join your host families at their tables and help yourself to all the food and drink my people have prepared to convey their regards to you.”
There is some visible nervousness in the three youngest members of the Senju delegation who appear to be in the range of fourteen to sixteen-years-old. The older members appear more politely interested in the interior of the common dining hall that is only used for occasions of widespread celebration such as this one. With its tall painted ceiling, stone walls and marble floors, gilded in gold and silver, the hall is a common point of pride for the Uzumaki.
Senju Tobirama—Mito’s future brother-in-law—doesn’t offer even that much readability as he simply bows politely in greeting to her father. “We are most grateful for your generosity, Uzumaki-sama. As a token of our appreciation and intention for the continued prosperity of both our people, kindly accept this little gift.”
It is all expected formality within both their cultures, of course. The Uzumaki delegation that left the island too has prepared a present for the Senju clan. Still, Minakami arranges his face into an expression of pleasant surprise.
“Oh, my!” he says jovially. “You shouldn’t have troubled yourself, Senju-dono.”
At this, Tobirama’s frigid expression finally cracks to allow a small smile as he turns his head and accepts the covered gift his clansmen. Carefully unveiling the gift, he reveals a bonsai tree in a porcelain pot painted with delicate koi fish whose scales glimmer with subtle gold every time they catch the light.
“This is a juniper bonsai that has been carefully tended to for over two and a half centuries in our temple. My brother personally imbued it with his gift to ensure that it will flourish on its own for centuries more.” Tobirama approaches the head table with unfaltering strides, setting the tree down before Minakami. The chakra emanating from the tree is so potent, Mito can feel the rainforest-daybreak-willow-storm even without needing to extend her senses. “We hope it will ward of all evil and bring your home eternal harmony.”
Minakami blinks at the tree, openly stunned. “I have never heard of a bonsai so old,” he murmurs honestly. “The Senju clan is truly generous. Thank you for this exquisitely beautiful gift, Senju-dono.”
Dipping his head, Tobirama waves his hand shortly. When he speaks, it is in the language of Uzushio, “There is no need for such formality. We are soon to join hands as family after all. Please, just call me Tobirama.”
“You know our language,” Minakami notes, grinning.
“I’m not the most fluent yet,” Tobirama says. “My clansmen are still in the process of learning as well, so you will have to be patient with us, I’m afraid.”
Ryusuke observes with raised eyebrows, looking openly amused. “You speak rather well, actually, Tobirama.”
“Indeed,” Minakami agrees. “Come take your seat, Tobirama. You must be starving. Let us not delay dinner any further.”
Tobirama does as directed, smoothly rounding the table to slide into his designated seat between Minakami and Mito while the dinner is called to start. He glances at Mito once he is settled, unusual crimson eyes glimmering with something inscrutable for just a moment before he offers her a small, genuine smile that softens his sharp features some. “Hello,” he greets quietly, in the formal dialect. “I am Tobirama. It is good to finally you.”
“Mito,” she introduces herself, careful not to show her surprise at the awkward friendliness. “You do not have to address me formally. It is as you said—we will be family soon.”
He inclines his head. “As you wish.” Reaching into his sleeve, he pulls out paper folded into the shape of a flower and slides it across the table to her. “A token from my brother. I think it’s supposed to be an anemone,” he says, eyeing the paper with something akin to trepidation before he turns to Mito with a hint of hesitance. “He is prone to…rambling. In all modes of communication. I hope you will not be too surprised if you find he has gotten carried away in his words to you as well. He means well truly.”
This time, she is unable to hide her surprise and her eyebrows rise. Mito carefully picks up the paper flower and studies it, lips twitching. “I have never received a letter in such a distinct fashion before,” she admits.
The sigh Tobirama lets out is long suffering and has her biting back a chuckle. “Well, anija has always had a flair for the distinct.” The words come out tired, but there is an unmistakable current of fondness in them as well that interests Mito.
“You are close?” she asks curiously. She can hardly be blamed for it; Mito knows next to nothing meaningful about the man she is slated to marry next year. Any information is valuable, especially if it pertains to how Hashirama might behave in a familial context.
Tobirama eyes her for a moment before nodding decisively. “We are all that is left of our immediate family now,” he says by way of explanation.
He is clearly a man of few words. Mito swallows her disappointment and eagerness for more, nodding instead. “I see,” she says, turning back to her plate.
“Anija is—” Tobirama pauses, as if in consideration. He looks to Mito and uncertainty lingers in the taut line of his shoulders. “He is the most compassionate person I know,” he says finally. “He is kind. And he enjoys making friends. Apparently, he is easy to get along with.” He looks almost disgruntled as he says this, making a subtle face that she would have missed had she so much as blinked. “I believe you would get along so long as you don’t burn down entire forests in your free time. That might be the only thing anija would truly take issue with. He is a soft-hearted fool for just about everything else.”
Mito stares, unsure of what to say. She has heard of the Senju clan head from her father and their informants. So far, she has had the image of a fearsome shinobi with unfathomable amounts of strength at his disposal. A strong leader at the head of a clan that is more prosperous and formidable than it has ever been.
The picture Tobirama paints, however, is of a silly young man who enjoys socialising and is passionate about plants. Rather obviously, he also seems to regularly annoy his younger brother somehow. The image is far more personal and affectionate.
And Mito finds herself relieved by it. She respects the Senju clan head, and of course, that is essential to any relationship. However, she values humour and kindness in a person just as much as she values honour and strength. After all, she is plenty strong enough to protect her family from most threats. And you can build a household with power, yes, but Mito so badly wishes to make a home.
“You get along well with him by the sounds of it,” she comments. Tobirama immediately scowls in response, as if by reflex, and Mito is unable to help her laughter. “I envy you, Tobirama. I always wished for siblings myself.”
Tobirama sighs and picks up his glass of water. “Anija can be a handful sometimes,” he says softly, “but…well, I am very fortunate to have him as well.” Glancing at Mito, he frowns. “I trust you will keep that I said that to yourself. He might cry if he finds out and I will never be allowed to live it down.”
Mito laughs again. “It will be our secret,” she agrees easily, grinning, pleased to already have something to share with the brother that will soon be hers as well.
“You will fit right in with the family then.”
“I know that you are technically here for the bridal payment duties,” Ryusuke starts over tea the next afternoon, “but, as you could probably tell, it’s not particularly relevant anymore.”
Tobirama hums in acknowledgement. “Assisting the island’s functioning or joining your shinobi forces would just result in incoordination or disruption of your regular functioning and create more problems instead,” he summarises. Thoughtfully, he adds, “And it would be presumptuous.”
Ryusuke snorts. “You said that, not me.” He picks up a manju and bites into it. “The point stands, however, that you need not repay us with labour. We thought it would be better if your stay on the island could be more beneficial instead.”
Though he already knows, Tobirama still has to ask, “What did you have in mind?”
“What are your thoughts on learning fuuinjutsu, Tobirama?”
“I am familiar with some of the principles,” he admits selectively. “I would not be opposed to learning more.”
Ryusuke quirks an eyebrow at him. “You already know some sealing?”
Tobirama smiles wryly and sips at his tea. “I have many interests, Ryusuke. Experimentation in all things is a hobby.”
“Then this will be a good thing, I suppose,” Ryusuke says, eyeing him thoughtfully. “We can get a sealmaster to assess your current level and build you up from there.”
“Alright,” Tobirama agrees, shrugging. “But what am I to tell my clan when they ask about the bridal payment? They are bound to notice eventually if I do nothing at all.”
Ryusuke hums and considers this for a moment before snapping his fingers. “How about we temporarily add you to Mito’s guard?” he suggests. “We will have to teach you the guards’ sign commands and codes, but you don’t need to actually know how to work in tandem with anyone else to follow Mito around while she goes about her day.”
It would also further the Uzumaki’s agenda of fostering good relations between Mito and Tobirama to aid her assimilation into the Senju clan later down the line. This too is familiar to Tobirama from his first life.
“That would work well,” he acquiesces. “Would Mito be opposed?”
“If anything, I feel like she will look forward to it,” Ryusuke comments. “The two of you seemed to get along over dinner yesterday.”
Tobirama shrugs. “We share a similar sense of humour.”
“Is that so?” Ryusuke asks, lips twitching. “All the better that we do it this way then.” After a moment of thought, he adds, “Besides, it would be appropriate.”
“How so?” Tobirama asks, eyebrow rising.
“It is custom among the main line for the younger sibling to become part of the older sibling’s guard once they come of age. It is to foster a pledge of allegiance between the clan heir and their younger sibling and ward off doubts regarding the succession. I joined my brother’s guard once I turned fourteen. Now I am captain of it,” Ryusuke informs. “As you know, Mito has no siblings or first cousins of her own, so the custom was skipped over in her case. Once she marries into your clan, however, you will become the only brother she has. Hence why it would be appropriate that you become part of her guard now.”
This is the first time Tobirama has heard of this practice. Last time, no one had ever brought up the cultural significance of him joining Mito’s guard. He’d never thought it to be such a symbolic thing.
“I see,” he says, blinking twice. “Well then, it would be my honour.”
“I will let Minakami know when I see him after lunch. For now, let me teach you the signed commands.”
Senju Tobirama turns out to be a genius the likes of which Ryusuke has never seen or even heard of before.
They had received reports, of course, when they had been looking into this generation of the Senju’s leaders and vetting out their expected guests. Even then there had been talk of the boy’s calibre and penchant for jutsu creation. About how he is called the White Demon for how he fights like he learned from yokai themselves.
Still, they find themselves wholly unprepared.
“He says he taught himself,” Yasu tells him, looking just as perfectly bewildered as Ryusuke feels as he sifts through the pages of Tobirama’s practice seals. “I certainly didn’t show him how.”
Each one is completed to a practiced perfection even if quite a few of them are not in Uzushio’s traditional sealing hand. That implication too is terrifying. It means that Tobirama has developed to the point where he has curated a style of his own that compliments his strengths—something that speaks of an incredibly rich understanding of the arrays and how they interact with one another. The kind that takes years of dedicated study to develop.
“He has been creating seals for years probably,” he observes. “These are not standard designs. He doesn’t use the formulae we have developed.”
Yasu nods. “Some of his seals are…inconvenient,” he says, “but for someone who apparently has had no formal tutoring in the subject matter, he is well past the point of an amateur.”
Rysusuke can see what Yasu means when he calls Tobirama’s style inconvenient. There is a tendency to take the longer route to the objective, using paragraphs where words might be enough, adding coefficients instead of layering them to multiply. But, again, for a supposed ‘beginner’, just the fact that his style is distinctive enough to have an observable tendency at all is…unimaginable.
Had he not been physically holding the evidence in his own two hands, Ryusuke would have never believed such a thing was possible.
“How did he learn all this?” he wonders aloud, completely stumped.
“He said he developed a fixation and acquired what few texts he could,” Yasu informs, frowning, “but would that be enough to get to such a level? Genius aside, sealing is a complicated line of study. There is a reason so few outside of Uzushio pursue it to the degree we do.”
Ryusuke purses his lips. “The alternative is he did learn under someone,” he states. “The question is who? A sealmaster we have never heard of? And why not admit it if he does have a teacher?”
“Perhaps his clan is unaware,” Yasu suggests, though he doesn’t look too convinced of this himself. “But why would he not show off such blatant talent? Sealmasters are a cherished rarity outside of our island.”
“Unless someone tried to forbid him from pursuing the study,” Ryusuke theorises. “Or he learned in such a manner that he had to hide it. Perhaps from a teacher he wasn’t supposed to have.”
Yasu bites his lips, looking suddenly hesitant. “You don’t think it could be a deserter of some sort, do you?”
Grimly, Ryusuke frowns and says nothing. After a moment, he decides, “It’s too soon to say. We will have to observe him for longer. Perhaps try probing for answers when he is likelier to give them to us.”
“And what of the lessons?” Yasu asks. “Do you still want to teach him?”
“We can hardly go back on our own suggestion now unless we want to rouse suspicion and risk offending the Senju clan heir prematurely. Remember that this alliance is of grave importance. Not to mention that Mito’s future could depend on Tobirama’s impression of her and her family,” Ryusuke points out wryly. A rue smile twists at his lips. “Besides, I am interested to see just how far we can push Tobirama’s genius. Regardless of how he learned, this much aptitude from someone his age is unprecedented. It would be a shame to let it go to waste when we have the opportunity to nurture such raw talent.”
Yasu hums. “Well, you will have to find someone else to do it.”
Ryusuke balks, taken aback. “What? Come on, why are you backing out now? Isn’t this exciting?”
The older sealmaster glares at him, tossing his head. “Teaching a beginner is one thing,” Yasu grumbles, “but the boy is obviously at an apprentice level or higher. I don’t have time for such dedicated teaching when I have to focus on my own research. Why do you think I never took on an apprentice of my own?”
“But who am I supposed to find now?”
Yasu huffs and rolls his eyes. “If you’re so concerned, why don’t you do it yourself?”
“Yasu, do you want me to die? I already have so much work on my plate. You want me to take on a student on top of that.”
“Well, it’s not my problem, is it? I’ll take my leave now if that is all, Ryusuke.”
“No, don’t leave! Come back!”
“I hope you don’t mind, Tobirama, but somehow, I wound up taking over your fuuinjutsu lessons,” Ryusuke says, smile a bit fixed on his face.
Tobirama blinks. “I…see.”
“Yes, since you turned out to be a higher-level student than expected, Yasu decided he didn’t have enough time to dedicate to the responsibility of teaching you while he works on his thesis,” Ryusuke explains, sighing. “I’m looking to see if we can find someone else to take over, but in the meantime, I figured I may as well fill in temporarily, so we won’t waste your time.”
“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Tobirama intones, not sounding particularly sorry at all. He has curbed his knowledge and skills as much as he is willing to. Tobirama has never stood for playing the fool and he certainly isn’t keen to start now. If it wouldn’t bring a flurry of questions he doesn’t want to deal with, he wouldn’t have bothered at all.
Smile becoming strained, Ryusuke nods. “Right, sure. Let’s get started, shall we?”
“May I ask you something, Tobirama?” Mito brings up, eyes closed, and face turned towards the sky, basking in the sunlight as she and Tobirama lounge on the steps leading from the Uzumaki manor into their sprawling back garden.
Tobirama hums, only half paying attention as he focuses on carefully steaming her hair as she showed him with a controlled jutsu.
“I hear they call you White Demon on the mainland. Does it not bother you?”
She sounds tentative as she brings it up, peeking one eye open to watch for his reaction. He only shrugs and makes a vague noise.
“Not particularly,” he says. “I don’t care what they call me. I just think such titles are unnecessary in general. They make a threat out to be bigger than it might be in reality. It’s misleading.”
Mito’s eyebrows rise and she opens both eyes to turn to him now. “Truly? It does not bother you at all?”
Tobirama inclines his head. “Does it matter what they call me?” he asks rhetorically. “It will not change anything about me or my skills. I will not become more or less deadly of an opponent just because they have assigned me some foolish nickname.”
“But words have power, don’t they?” Mito argues. “The creator spoke words into a void and gave mankind an existence. We tend to become what we are called.”
“Only if you deign to assign that much power to a name does it become you,” he refutes calmly, gently twisting thick strands of crimson into even braids.
Mito hums, acknowledging his point. “Then what about the future?”
“What about it?”
“The names others give you will someday inform the legacy you leave behind,” she states. “So, maybe not now, but someday, you will become what you are known as.”
Tobirama inclines his head. “Maybe,” he allows after a moment, “but that is not something I can control anyways. My legacy is—by definition—something I will never be privy to. I can hardly live my life obsessed with trying to control it or letting it control my actions. The present informs the future; not the other way round, after all. Ultimately, I still remain unaffected by how others see me.”
Mito tilts her head back, dark blue eyes staring up at him thoughtfully while Tobirama twists her braids together and coils them into a complicated updo he learned from Touka, fastening the hair in place carefully. “You are a stubborn one, aren’t you, Tobirama?”
His mouth twitches. “I may have been told that before, yes.”
She grins back. “Unexpectedly wise too, though.”
“You flatter me,” he drawls drily.
“It is only the truth,” Mito dismisses, waving her hand idly. “It is natural for men to be possessed by ideals of remembrance and the immortality of their image. To want to live forever even if only through others. To want to be more than they are.”
Snorting, Tobirama says, “Fruitless endeavours. None of it will matter beyond death. It is not as though one can eat a so-called legacy.”
“Come now,” Mito says reproachfully, though she looks too amused for it be meaningful, “there is no need to be so crass.”
“I am only being honest.” He shrugs. “What use is a legacy to me if it cannot help me keep my clan from starving come winter? It will not cure our illnesses or heal our wounds. It will not stop our wars and bring us peace. All those things are far more worthy of my concern than a legacy I cannot even control.”
Sarcastically gasping, she says, “A shinobi that wishes for war to end? What a specimen you are!”
“You have not met anija and it shows,” Tobirama huffs out, lips curving into a smile.
This brings an open sort of surprise to Mito’s face. “Your brother is a pacifist?”
Tobirama hums. “Not a pacifist necessarily. He just wishes for our clan to be free of the war that has plagued us for centuries now.”
“And you?” Mito prods. “Are you the same?”
He considers this, staring off at some unseen horizon. “I think so, yes,” he decides after a moment. “I do not believe this war brings us anything that makes it an endeavour worth continued pursuit. It is an endless drain of our resources and a bringer of meaningless carnage.”
She hums lowly. “One could argue that winning the war would bring peace to the souls of your fallen clansmen.”
“It would not bring peace to my clansmen that are still alive though,” Tobirama states. “The dead are already gone after all. Besides, there are no true winners in war—only those who survive, and those who do not.”
“So, peace is your answer?”
“No. Survival is my answer. My clan’s survival. Anija’s survival. Survival of his children and grandchildren. Peace is simply the means to that end.”
Mito’s eyebrows have risen but her eyes are soft. “You sound like you have it all figured it out, Tobirama.”
Tobirama offers her a secretive smile. “Perhaps I do.”