Opportunity Cost
The news reaches them three days after the attack on Senju compound, reporting twelve dead and fourteen injured. According to the missive, all the civilians were successfully evacuated in time, and the Uchiha forces didn’t breach more than a quarter of the Senju home grounds, but the damage they left behind in the wake of their attack is still palpable.
Mito watches as her future brother-in-law receives the news with taut shoulders and cold eyes, his face completely inscrutable. Tobirama’s chakra pulls back as though in a vacuum, withdrawing into itself and offering nothing to be read. He scans over the scroll twice and then silently rolls it back up, handing it back to Mito’s father without so much as a tremor in his hands.
“I can only offer you my sincerest condolences, Tobirama,” Minakami says, the lines by his mouth becoming more prominent. “It is a terrible tragedy that has befallen your people.”
Tobirama does not close his eyes or falter as he breathes. He only inclines his head as is appropriate and offers quietly, “Thank you.”
Over his head, Minakami’s eyes find Mito’s in silent concurrence. Uzushio is home to an expressive populace. On an island as peaceful as theirs, such a tendency is a mark of luxury because their people find no need to hide in fear of exploitation of their emotions. To see none of this in Tobirama now, when such harrowing news is presented to him, is disconcerting for both of them.
“We have already extended our offer of aid should the Senju need us in this trying time,” Minakami continues, voice gentle as he eyes the boy before him.
Tobirama simply repeats, “Thank you.”
Mito frowns, consciously not biting her lip. Softly, she speaks up, “If there is anything you need, Tobirama, you only have to ask.”
Some of the horrible frigidness softens when Tobirama’s eyes find hers, though not nearly enough for her to feel at ease. “I appreciate your kindness, Mito.” He turns back to Minakami, politely asking, “May I be excused?”
Minakami eyes him in silence for a moment before nodding once. “Yes, of course.”
When Mito makes a move to follow after her future brother-in-law, she is halted by the pointed touch of Minakami’s chakra against her own, her father shaking his head at her. “Let him be, Mito.”
“But you saw him, baba!” she protests. “He looks like he’s in shock. I can’t leave him alone like this. He will need support and—”
“I know you mean well, my heart,” her father interrupts gently, “but not everyone processes grief the same way.”
She pauses, furrowing her brows. “I know that.”
Minakami inclines his head. “I’m not sure you do, child. You are indeed strong and undoubtedly intelligent, but for all your capability, you have not known war, Mito. Uzushio’s enemies have never made it to our shores and our people enjoy safety that our sister clan does not. Safety that Tobirama did not grow up with. If you seek him out now, he will only suppress his emotions because he will deem it unsafe for him to do otherwise.”
Mito blinks, feeling a little lost. “But he must know I would never use his grief against him. He is to be my brother.”
The smile on Minakami’s face is equal parts fond and sad. “You must be patient, dearest. Let him have a moment to catch his breath, and then you can seek him out to let him know he has your shoulder to lean on. Wait for him to come to you. You learned in our lessons on diplomacy, didn’t you? These matters require a delicate hand.”
Delicate. Mito can do that. She is an accomplished seal master in her own right after all; she knows all about patience and a careful approach. She can wait.
The attack wasn’t supposed to happen.
Of course, Tobirama knew right from the start that his smallest actions could set off far reaching ripples he would be unable to predict. It is an unfortunate consideration to account for, but one he thought would be well worth the risk.
An attack mounted directly on the Senju compound is not a risk he ever thought to account for. He didn’t think he would have to. The Senju have engaged even less with the Uchiha than they did in his original timeline with Tobirama actively supporting his brother’s endeavours as opposed to his father’s old faction like he did in his other life. Hashirama has managed to keep the clan otherwise occupied with the expansion of their agricultural and medicinal trade. They haven’t had the opportunity to antagonise the Uchiha enough for them to respond in this way.
So, what went wrong? Which one of Tobirama’s actions led to the deaths of twelve of his clansmen? What could he have done differently to prevent this? What should he do now that this has happened?
If he could return to the compound without violating the terms of their exchange with the Uzumaki, he would. As things stand, however, his departure now would only have even more unforeseen consequences that could prove dire for the future of their alliance with the Uzumaki. Their relationship is not one Tobirama can afford to meddle around with.
But would it have helped had he been there to start with? Could he have prevented the loss of twelve Senju lives?
Logically, he knows that the Uchiha are to blame for their own actions. Regardless of what changes led to this, they still chose to attack his people this way. They are the ones who killed and injured his clansmen, and Tobirama is not to blame for that.
But the fact still stands that something he did must have somehow led to this happening.
It can’t be allowed to happen again. Tobirama is making these changes for the sake of peace. So that his clan will not lose their lives needlessly for as long as they did in his first life. He will not accept this kind of outcome again, regardless of what variable caused it. Tobirama is just going to have to do better.
For the first time in several years, Hashirama is forced to confront the state of his friendship with Madara and wonder if perhaps there is truly nothing to be salvaged from the wreckage that lies between them.
Things have not been…ideal since that fateful day at the river when they learned their identities, but Hashirama had never let that deter his faith in Madara and the dream they shared as boys. Even when his friend had clashed against him time and time again, jaded and unwilling to hope, Hashirama had believed that it would only be a matter of time. That he simply had to try harder next time to make Madara see reason and believe in Hashirama too.
He had trusted in the boy Madara used to be, had believed that eventually his old friend would be brave enough to meet him halfway.
Instead Madara had led his shinobi to Hashirama’s home and tried to set fire to all he holds dear.
In some ways, it feels rather horribly like some sort of inevitability has caught up to him. The wound is still fresh, stinging with the ache of a betrayal he had faith would never come to pass. After so long of insistent hope, Hashirama doesn’t know how to accept that perhaps Madara truly does not care for peace between their people anymore.
Not like he has much choice; not when Madara has finally spelled things out with a finality that not even Hashirama can remain oblivious to. Certainly not when the elders and large chunks of the clan has lost whatever minimal peaceful sentiment Hashirama had begun to cultivate, public outrage rising with demands for retribution.
For now, Hashirama has delayed the outcry with repair and rebuilding efforts, directing their attention towards solidifying trade agreements for raw materials and such that they will require in this time of need. The temple and shrine came to his aid, organising prayers for the souls of those who were lost in the conflict, emphasising grief over anger, but Hashirama knows that it is only a matter of time before his people start demanding that he act against the Uchiha for such a massive transgression.
The question becomes: What will he do then?
Hashirama knows that most of the council will expect him to mount an attack of equal magnitude against the Uchiha to even the scale. It will satisfy the people while also letting the world at large know the Senju are not to be trifled with in such a way. Logically, it is the best option, and his advisors will be sure to point out as much.
And yet, Hashirama has no desire for more war. Even after everything, though he is beginning to fear that peace with the Uchiha might not be possible in his lifetime, Hashirama does not want to carry out a siege against them. He has no need for revenge when he knows it will only bring more loss, more anger, more hatred. It will only feed into the cycle of brutality that has haunted their clans for centuries now. Hashirama doesn’t want to see himself become another cog in the machine of war. Regardless of how Madara has hurt him, Hashirama does not want to lose himself to this pain. He doesn’t want to find out what he might become.
If Butsuma were still alive, he would have no qualms calling Hashirama a failure of the highest degree for allowing something like this to happen, and then for not doing anything about it even though it is highly likely that inaction will cost him valuable support within the clan.
Tobirama will not be happy either. His brother is pragmatic to a fault and the Senju come above all else for him. Doing nothing is only going to make their standing fall among their clients and allies. They will be mocked for cowardice. Tobirama will never stand for such a thing. He would seek vengeance even if it would only satisfy the will of their people.
Does that make Hashirama selfish? Is he a bad leader if he does not give into and stoke the flames of his people’s righteous anger?
Hashirama is a man at the helm of a war—no choice he makes will ever be right, and the only way out is through.
It is a slap in the face to learn that Hashirama hadn’t been lying.
Madara doesn’t quite know what to do with the truth that is laid out so clearly before him now that he has gone looking for it. The Uchiha’s records are impeccably maintained after all, and the recent ones are unlikely to be wrong. There are some points of contention where the details were lost to the aftermath and the blame is not so easy to place, but once that is accounted for, the numbers do not lie.
And what is Madara supposed to do with that? What can he do now after he has already crossed some line in the sand he does not know how to come back from?
Izuna does not understand his sudden conflict. He thinks this is a good thing; the Senju deserved it, and this means that the Uchiha have not become complacent in this war. And perhaps he isn’t wrong. Perhaps it is impressive if one cared to look at it that way.
Madara does not. He is far more concerned about what this says of him. All this time, he has been content to lay equal blame at Hashirama’s feet and scoff at his old friend’s hypocrisy when all along it is Madara who—
It is a scary thing to realise that Madara might have become too used to waging war just as his forefathers had before him. That perhaps he has become servile to his own paranoia and distrust when he had always hoped to be different as a child.
He knows he can’t be blamed entirely for it. They are living through a war; there is no denying the harshness of this reality. Naivety has no place in their time, even less so for someone who is in charge of so many lives as he is. But there is a line to be walked there and Madara can longer be sure which side of it he stands on these days.
“They were making suspicious movements,” Izuna snaps, looking frustrated with Madara’s moroseness. “The meetings with the Sarutobi, remember? You agreed to this—I don’t get why you’re acting like we staged that attack behind your back. It would’ve worked too, if you hadn’t called for that retreat.”
Madara exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, pulling harshly at the roots though it does nothing to stave off his headache. “We don’t even know why they were meeting with the Sarutobi,” he points out, tired of running around in the same circles with this conversation.
Eyes rolling to the ceiling, Izuna shakes his head. “What other reason could they possibly be meeting with the Sarutobi for, aniki?”
“Trade?”
“Oh, please,” Izuna scoffs, turning away from him to continue pacing in agitation.
Madara frowns. “We keep rushing into these confrontations without ever waiting to find out the truth, Izuna. Don’t you see how harmful that kind of pattern is?”
From the stubborn glare his little brother’s face sets into, it is clear he does not. “Would you rather we sit around twiddling our thumbs in wait to find out when the Senju could be plotting to kill us? Why don’t you just invite Senju Hashirama into our compound and let him slaughter us whole, huh? I’m sure that would be far simpler.”
A noise of frustration bubbles out of him before Madara can stop it. “That’s not what I’m trying to say, and you know it!”
“Well, I don’t understand what you are trying to say,” Izuna bites back with an equal amount of vitriol. “Delay or inaction will only cost us our li—”
“As if acting on every suspicion costs us nothing,” Madara interrupts sharply. “We lost seven to this attack alone, Izuna. Seven shinobi that could have been alive today had we not gone ahead with this scheme.”
Izuna is not deterred. “And when the Senju’s schemes with the Sarutobi came to fruition? How many would we have lost then? How many will we lose when they choose to take revenge now for the attack that we didn’t even see through because you ordered us to turn back?”
“What proof do you have that they were colluding with the Sarutobi?”
Staring at him incredulously, Izuna says as if in disbelief, “Aniki, we are at war. What proof do you require?”
Madara slumps back into his chair, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. “We are at war,” he agrees after a long moment of empty tension. “I think you might be too used to it, brother.”
The defiant set of Izuna’s jaw is a familiar sight by now as he narrows his eyes at Madara. “Indeed, and I suggest you do the same, aniki.”