Vacuous Truth
“How did it go with your guests?” Hashirama asks the evening of his return from Konoha’s site as he is oiling his weapons in routine maintenance.
“Good,” Tobirama replies, flipping a page of his book. “Kagami-kun almost sneezed fire onto some acetone but the crisis was successfully averted.”
Hashirama grins. “And how was Izuna-kun?”
“Like he usually is,” Tobirama says, shrugging slightly. “He complimented the murals and then insulted someone’s music. We had to leave before a fight could break out.”
“I see.” Hashirama blinks. “A lot of the clan was surprised by just how close you seemed to be with both of them. I heard you made lunch for them personally.” He pouts and aims exaggerated watery eyes at Tobirama. “You don’t even cook for me anymore, Tora! How come they get your food and I don’t?”
Tobirama scowls. “What are you—a child? Anija, shouldn’t you wise up now that you’re going to have a child of your own? Think about what kind of example you ought to be setting for them.”
Hashirama’s face does that disturbing thing where it goes all gooey every time anyone so much as breathes with any implication of the pregnancy. “I’m really going to be a father, huh?”
Scoffing, Tobirama looks to his book and elects to keep his mouth shut. Hashirama might not say it, but Tobirama suspects his brother is rather nervous about his future role as a parent, especially when considering how Butsuma hadn’t exactly been a shining beacon of paternal affection. Certainly not to Hashirama who had been on the complete opposite end of the spectrum from their father emotionally. Tobirama doesn’t want to aim for any true insecurity of Hashirama’s even if he won’t actually mean what he says.
And then he pauses.
“Anija, did you have people spying on us while you were gone?”
Hashirama freezes.
Tobirama gapes. “You hypocrite! You’re the one who’s always going on about inter-clan relations and extending trust to our former enemies!”
Spluttering, Hashirama waves his hands in a futile effort to placate Tobirama who is now holding his thick reference book aloft like a weapon. “Wait, wait, wait—Tobirama, let’s not be hasty. Let your poor older brother explain himself, hm?”
“Go on then,” Tobirama says, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. “Let’s hear it.”
A pause. Tobirama starts to raise his book.
“I just wanted to be sure you would be fine while I was gone,” Hashirama says.
Tobirama narrows his eyes. That’s far too sweet an answer to be true or his brother wouldn’t have hidden it. “Try again,” he grits out.
Looking affronted, Hashirama insists, “It's true! You’ve never brought an outsider to visit before! Not even those fancy university friends of yours. And then the first person you do invite is Uchiha Izuna. I’m sure he’s a fine young man, but you can’t blame me for wanting someone to keep an eye out, can you?”
Tobirama frowns. “The first person I invited is technically Kagami-kun.”
Hashirama levels him with a flat look. “Don’t be obtuse on purpose.”
“Don’t spy on me or my guests,” Tobirama shoots back. “Honestly, anija, you know I can take care of myself. Imagine if Izuna had figured it out and taken offence to it.”
Shoulders slumping, Hashirama mumbles, “I’d ordered them to be discrete. It’s not like I was trying to sabotage your friendship or anything.” He pauses, lips pressed together as he eyes Tobirama. “How come you didn’t tell me that you and Izuna-kun are such good friends anyways?”
“It didn’t come up. Besides, we’re not as close as you make us sound.”
“Really?” Hashirama tilts his head and turns back to his weapons thoughtfully. “I thought you must be. You seemed so comfortable with each other when I saw you last time, and everyone I asked agreed.”
“We have known each other for a while now,” Tobirama points out, flipping his book again and recovering his place in the text.
Hashirama hums. “Does that count? At least Madara and I knew each other before we became enemies.”
Tobirama makes a considering sound in his throat. “It does in a way. Since we already know the worst of each other, there has never been a need to lie. I suppose there is comfort in that.”
“Ah,” Hashirama says, a note of realisation in his voice, “so it’s like that.”
He seems to have caught on. Tobirama doesn’t try to dissuade him; now that Hashirama has realised, he will see the truth regardless of whether Tobirama tries to hide it or not.
The truth, of course, being that his odd relationship with Izuna is not nearly as uncomplicated as he is making it out to be. Not with the growing interest he realises he has seen in Izuna’s eyes over the course of the past few months or the look Izuna had worn on his face as he had looked up at Tobirama, as though he was gazing upon a revelation.
Tobirama couldn’t have ever thought to predict this turn of events even with all the knowledge and memories he has come to possess. There is no amount of foresight that could have prepared him to come face to face with an Uchiha Izuna who would look upon him with the ache of such naked wanting in his eyes that Tobirama felt compelled to shy away from what he had already begun to suspect.
Once he had formed his hypothesis that, perhaps, Izuna keeps finding excuses to drift into Tobirama’s proximity and demand his sole attention because there is some measure of attraction there, he had immediately set out to test his theory, and he has since arrived at rather conclusive results thanks to Izuna’s kind cooperation and open infatuation.
The question thus becomes: what will Tobirama do about this?
Hashirama presses his lips together in thought. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” he says after a moment. “I’d noticed that Izuna-kun seems to treat you differently than he does anyone else, but Madara didn’t say anything about it, so I assumed it was just your rivalry at play.”
Madara seems the type to wilfully not notice such things for sake of his own peace but what does Tobirama know. He shrugs and says nothing.
The silence lingers while Hashirama clearly debates over whether to prod further or not. Tobirama idly turns the page of his book and waits.
“And you, Tora?” Hashirama finally asks, the question gentle and unobtrusive, leaving space for Tobirama to refuse to answer if that’s what he wants. Tobirama looks up and over at his brother. Hashirama pushes further ever so slightly, “Do you see him as he sees you?”
For a while, Tobirama thinks this over. He has asked himself much the same over the past week or so, grappling with emotions he is ill suited to parsing through, trying to understand himself in a way he hasn’t had to since he first became a teenager.
The best he has managed to settle on is a lacklustre, “Maybe.”
Because he doesn’t see Izuna with the same kind of wide-eyed infatuation that the Uchiha does him, but Tobirama also knows that, given a little more time and consideration, he very well could . The foundation is there already after all—he likes talking to Izuna, likes listening to him, likes arguing and working with him, likes sitting in silence with him. It’s so easy that Tobirama hasn’t even paused to think twice about over half the times they seek out each other’s company despite having no need to. They know the worst and best of each other.
And somehow despite that familiarity, Izuna manages to surprise Tobirama anyways. Because there was no shared future between them, Izuna is the one thing that has remained entirely new to Tobirama that has actually successfully kept his attention. Izuna is a curiosity, a comfort, and a challenge and Tobirama knows he is weak to his own intrigue. What is between them sparks with the potential to be electric. Part of him is drawn in by the promise of a dare and Tobirama has always believed in taking the plunge and finding out.
If things had been any less complicated, he would have even thought it to be an inevitability.
As things stand, however, things are very complicated and there isn’t much Tobirama can do to change the fact that is: in another life, Izuna had died by Tobirama’s blade. Izuna’s blood was on his hands and, to be frank, Tobirama hadn’t truly regretted his decision in that lifetime either. Even now, from an objective lens, he knows there wasn’t much he could have done differently short of letting Izuna kill him instead. It isn’t that Tobirama feels guilty for it now necessarily, but more so that he doesn’t believe this is history upon which he would be willing to build a relationship.
The core of his and Izuna’s mutual interest in each other is the unique sense of honesty they are able to share by virtue of being so familiar with the worst in one another that expectations and facades become meaningless. To introduce such a massive element of dishonesty to that dynamic and then demand intimacy and true vulnerability from Izuna isn’t something Tobirama is willing to do simply to indulge in selfish emotional whims.
Izuna’s attraction to Tobirama hinges on the peace and sincerity that has been cultivated between them. If he knew the truth, his feelings would undoubtedly differ, and though Tobirama cannot offer him that truth, he can certainly refrain from taking advantage of his ignorance.
There is a history of blood between them that only one of them is privy to, but then it becomes Tobirama’s duty to honour it. He has always been good at doing what needs to be done after all.
Tobirama cannot allow Izuna to love him without knowing exactly what he is choosing, but he cannot offer the information that would allow Izuna to make such a decision either. Thus, the conclusion becomes clear: nothing can happen here. This is not something Tobirama can be allowed to have.
Hashirama must see some hint of that resolution in Tobirama’s face because his eyes soften even as he frowns slightly. “Life is short, Tobirama,” he says eventually, a knowing sort of weight in his words. “You should do what pleases you while you can.”
(“What do you want, Tobirama?”)
Tobirama exhales slowly. “Marriage has made you philosophical, anija.”
It is a poor deflection all things considered, but Hashirama is kind enough to allow it. “Maybe,” he says, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
Tobirama turns back to his book and pretends he cannot feel how Hashirama’s gaze lingers upon him.
The clan heads decide to host the autumn harvest festival collectively on Konoha grounds this year, leaping on the excuse to take a break from village planning and mingle recreationally. The office buildings and pavilions have been temporarily repurposed for the event and Hashirama personally assisted with the decorations by raising seasonal flowers and glorious scarlet-leaved trees under which the attendees rest now, sipping on sake and making merry.
Tobirama sits at Mito’s side and looks plainly like he’d rather be literally anywhere else, eyeing the festivities stonily and clearly finding them laborious.
Mito studies his scowl and snorts at him openly, smiling when he turns to her with betrayal in his gaze. “This is for your own good,” she tells him primly in response to his pointed silence. “You need to take a break, Tobirama.”
“I’m fine ,” he insists, brows furrowing.
She levels him with a flat stare. “Your dark circles would beg to differ. I can tell you haven’t been sleeping enough.”
“I could go back home and sleep right now,” Tobirama offers.
“If you went home, you’d probably head straight to your office instead; don’t even try to deny it.” Mito frowns at him. “Do you think I don’t know your habits by now? No; you will stay here where I know you are not working.”
“The village—”
“Will be there for you to work on tomorrow,” she interrupts his protest, nudging a plate of appetisers closer to him. “Eat.”
Tobirama huffs at her but eats dutifully, obedient despite his obvious displeasure. Mito hides a smile behind her sleeve before he can catch her, though from the deadpan stare she is soon fixed with, her efforts are for naught. Well, it’s hardly her fault that Tobirama always chooses unexpected moments to be endearing in that oddly sincere way of his. She can’t help but be charmed.
“Mito-san,” comes a soft greeting, interrupting their conversation.
Mito turns and smiles. “Hisae-san!” she returns, pleased that the other woman had continued to address Mito more casually as they had agreed upon by the end of their last meeting. “Good evening. Are you well?”
“Yes,” Hisae says. Her gaze flickers to Tobirama, a hint of nervousness creeping into her disposition as she offers him a shallow bow. “Good evening, Tobirama-dono.”
Smoothly rising to his feet, Tobirama bows back. “Hisae-dono,” he acknowledges. He turns to Mito and tips his head in the direction of the centre of the festivities. “I shall take my leave now.”
Hisae’s pale face colours. “Oh no, please, you don’t have to leave for my sake,” she says, holding her hands up. “I only wished to say hello. Please, do not trouble yourself.”
“It is no trouble,” Tobirama tells her, and his tone is so factual that it brings Hisae to a bewildered pause in her fretting. “I will see you at home, aneja,” he says to Mito, his gaze sliding between her and the Hyuuga almost contemplatively. “Enjoy the festival, Hisae-dono.” He is gone before either of them can really respond, tall figure cutting through the crowd with ease and disappearing into it.
What a smart boy to give Mito space with her new acquaintance when he suspects that she’s up to something. Mito will personally stitch a warming seal into his favourite haori for the winter later as thanks. For now, she turns to offer Hisae a reassuring grin and gestures for her to take the seat Tobirama just vacated.
“Don’t worry about Tobirama,” she tells the Hyuuga. “He was looking for an excuse to escape my nagging anyways. I suspect he’s rather grateful for your arrival.”
Hisae doesn’t look all that convinced but she smiles tentatively, nonetheless. “I really did just want to say hello. You looked like you were enjoying your conversation with him, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Oh, it’s hardly an interruption, Hisae-san,” Mito waves off the unsaid apology and instead offers Hisae some of the fruit tea she and Tobirama had been sipping on since neither can really indulge in anything alcoholic. “I can always nag at my brother-in-law when we are at home. It’s not like he can really escape.”
A smile blooms on Hisae’s face at that, tentative but true. “It is like you are really siblings.”
“In all the ways that matter,” Mito confirms firmly.
“How nice it is to see,” Hisae says, sighing. “You are fortunate.”
Mito dips her head, smiling. “That I am,” she agrees. She shakes her head to dismiss the topic centred on her. “Did you bring Sai-kun? I see quite a few children running around tonight.”
“I did,” Hisae says. “His cousin wished to explore the festivities, so I sent Sai-kun along.”
Only a toddler and already being primed to serve. Mito picks up a snack and pops it into her mouth. “I heard it will be Sai-kun’s birthday soon. Will you plan something special? It is his third birthday, no?”
Hisae stills. “Yes,” she says after a moment. “Nothing special. You see, my niece will also turn three soon after him, and the clan will be busy with celebrations for her. She is our heir after all. There is much ceremony to prepare for.”
She doesn’t specify what ceremony, but it’s not like it’s difficult to guess. “He will receive the seal then,” Mito concludes aloud.
A soft breath leaves Hisae. Her shoulders draw inwards. Quietly, she says, “Yes.”
“So young.”
Hisae’s lips press together in a thin line. “I received my seal when I was one. Three is an auspicious age, particularly for the main family.” She frowns. “I know what you think of the seal, Mito-san, but this is our way.”
Mito is quiet, allowing the silence to fester, thick and uncomfortable. Then, softly, she asks, “Will he understand?”
“He must,” Hisae says, and it comes out desperate instead of firm. She swallows. “It is our way,” she repeats. “The only way.”
“Would you choose differently if you could? For him if not for yourself.”
There is something afraid in Hisae’s eyes, like prey trapped before a predator spelling out certain death. She twists her hands together in her lap. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I do know, Hisae-san.” Mito exhales slowly and backs off, offering, “You need not answer if you do not wish to. I am sorry for pushing.” Perhaps this was too far too soon.
Hisae shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter what I would choose. For him or for me. There is no changing what must happen. Wishful thinking has never done anyone any good.”
“I would beg to differ on that,” Mito says mildly. “After all, we are sitting at the heart of the product of my husband’s wishful thinking. Sometimes, that is all it takes to set things in motion. For things to change .” Mito tilts her head. “What would you wish for?”
“I’d wish for him to be able to choose,” Hisae whispers after a long moment, as though confessing to a shameful sin. Her hands are trembling, but her voice does not waver anymore. “I’d wish for him to be free. For him to forge his own path. Find his own happiness. I’d wish—” She breaks off and shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. There is nothing I can do. I have already said far too much, you must forgive me.”
“No, no, you have nothing to apologise for,” Mito assures hurriedly, letting nothing show of her own pleasure at Hisae’s admission. “Please, it is I who pushed you so. I am sorry too, Hisae-san.” Tentative, she reaches out and places a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. Sincerely, she says, “You are a good mother.”
Hisae looks at Mito, helpless and disbelieving. “What good am I when there is so little that I can do for him?”
“You love him,” Mito states simply. “You want to give him a future of happiness and freedom.”
“Is that enough?”
Mito smiles. “It could be.”
Tobirama had intended on finding some out of the way corner to hide in so he would remain undisturbed until he reached an acceptable point in the evening to go home. He only gets so far before he is halted in his mission by an intentional brush of cinder-static-novae-hymn against his senses. Tobirama falters for all of one second, but that is apparently all the opening Izuna needs to slide into space next to him.
“There you are,” Izuna says, a lilting quality to his voice as he flashes a smile at Tobirama. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d even shown up.”
“Hello, Izuna.” And here Tobirama had naively been hoping for some more time to figure out how he would interact with Izuna in light of recent developments. “I was brought along against my will if I am to be perfectly honest.”
Izuna arches a brow. “I’m not the slightest bit surprised by that.” He does look amused though. “You ought to learn how to relax every once in a while, Senju, or your pretty face will get stuck in a perpetual frown and all your good looks will have gone to waste.”
Tobirama stares and struggles to keep control over his face, some part of his brain falling into despair instead of doing something useful like analysing the closest avenue of escape. He clears his throat and looks away. “Thank you for your concern, Izuna. I will be sure to keep your advice in mind.”
“You do that,” Izuna says pleasantly, tossing his head to swing his high ponytail back over his shoulder, casually emphasising the long line of his pale neck.
To some extent, Tobirama had known not to expect Izuna to make things easy for him, and yet he manages to feel a sinking sense of resignation to a difficult future.
He casts for a change in topic. “I’d have thought you would be occupied during such an event,” he says, referring to Izuna’s consistent tendency to network whenever the opportunity presents itself.
“Maybe I’ve changed my ways,” Izuna says. When he catches sight of the disbelieving look Tobirama aims at him, he laughs and admits, “I already made my rounds. I’ll swing by again once everyone is done eating and has had more to drink.”
“Ruthless,” Tobirama observes.
“But of course. I figured you, of all people, would appreciate the efficiency.”
Tobirama tips his head in silent acquiescence. It’s an accurate assessment to make. He has always been partial to seeing the shortest path between motive to means and making that leap. Like Izuna said, it’s not about being mean, it’s simply about efficiency.
“Shinobi should know better anyways,” he decides.
“ Exactly ,” Izuna says with a grin, sounding pleased. “Have you had the chance to eat yet?”
Tobirama hesitates, then admits, “Not quite.”
“Come with me then.” Offering no room for protest, Izuna’s hand closes around Tobirama’s wrist as he starts leading the way through the crowd towards one of the many stalls set up for the occasion, courtesy of the Akimichi. “The Akimichi should have just bribed everyone into peace ages ago with their food. It would have saved us all so much trouble.”
Despite himself, Tobirama’s lips twitch. “I take it you’ve been enjoying yourself then.”
Izuna shoots him a carefree grin over his shoulder and tugs Tobirama under the awning of one of the stalls’ eating area. “I heard the soup dumplings from this place are good. You don’t mind, do you?”
“I don’t mind,” Tobirama confirms and immediately purses his lips. He sounds indulgent even to his own ears.
Not that Izuna seems to notice as he busies himself with giving the menu a cursory glance before flagging down a server and placing an order, only looking to Tobirama once to check if he has any other requests.
“The Senju compound is almost finished, isn’t it?” Izuna asks. “Your brother said all the infrastructure is laid out.”
Tobirama decides not to ask when or why Izuna had been talking to his brother. Instead, he simply replies, “Yes, we will be prepared to begin the moving process soon.”
Izuna hums. “You’ll be the first ones then.”
“The Akimichi will probably follow soon after. Shikataro says they’re pretty much finished with construction and furnishing as well. The Nara and Yamanaka will be longer though.”
“The Uchiha as well,” Izuna sighs. “Unfortunately, we do not have Hashirama’s broken bloodline limit or the Akimichi’s manpower. Aniki is considering moving the clan in increments as parts of the compound finish, but the logistics of that aren’t really working out just yet.”
Tobirama nods in understanding. “Commuting back and forth for work will certainly be an inconvenience.”
“We’re considering moving a few of the offices before any homes,” Izuna says. “Hopefully a few of the village’s offices will be running by then too so we can at least move those workers here.”
“Maybe a dormitory system,” Tobirama suggests.
“Yeah, that’s what we were thinking too.” Izuna shakes his head. “It will still take us until the summer at least.”
“I reckon we will start packing up as soon as the worst of winter passes,” Tobirama muses aloud, mapping out a plausible timeline in his head.
Izuna’s eyebrows rise. “Not too long from now,” he notes. “It will be strange with all construction going on break for the cold season. I’ve gotten used to not having to stay in the compound all the time. The winter is going to make me feel restless.”
“I will be wintering with my mother’s clan this year,” Tobirama says. “It will be a change of scenery at least.”
“With the Hatake?” Izuna looks surprised. “What for? When do you leave?”
“I will guide a portion of them here as soon as spring arrives so they can sort out the immigration formalities. Since I’m vouching for them, I ought to be present.” Tobirama shrugs. “I have a few teleportation arrays along the way to cut out the more unreliable roads and mountain passes. I can afford to dally a bit before I go. Perhaps another month.”
“Isn’t Hatake territory in the north? You’ll probably find snow there,” Izuna says.
“Possibly, yes. I’ll make it just before the passes close.”
“If you say so.” Izuna slumps. “I won’t even have you around for entertainment then.”
Tobirama arches a brow, amused by the Uchiha’s despondence. “I’m flattered to know that is what my worth amounts to in your eyes, Izuna,” he says dryly.
“I’m being serious!” Izuna insists, but his eyes are bright with mirth. “I’ll have nothing to do for months.”
Before Tobirama can respond to that, a shadow falls over them as their conversation is interrupted.
“Then perhaps you should find some way to actually make yourself of use for once, Uchiha,” drawls Hyuuga Sakurai, second cousin to the Hyuuga clan head and a member of the legislation committee.
Tobirama blinks. This is the second Hyuuga to butt in on one of Tobirama’s conversations within the hour. He hopes this isn’t developing into some sort of pattern.
Izuna feigns exaggerated surprise. “Why, Sakurai-kun, I had no idea you were familiar with the concept of being useful!” he remarks, sounding pleased. “I’m happy for your recent discovery, truly.”
Sakurai sneers. “Everything is a joke to you, isn’t it?”
Tobirama hadn’t known Izuna had such an antagonistic relationship with a Hyuuga. He looks back and forth between them and wonders if he should just excuse himself and leave them to it. Ah, but the dumplings—it would be a shame to abandon them. They really are very good. What a conundrum.
Izuna drops his chin on the palm of his head, an easy smile on his face. “Maybe you only think that because I’m always laughing at you.”
Reaching for a dumpling, Tobirama gently pokes a hole through the tender skin and drains the soup onto a spoon. It smells wonderful.
“You lack discipline and decorum, Uchiha,” Sakurai says, voice cold. “You wouldn’t last a minute in the Hyuuga hierarchies.”
“Well, you wouldn’t last a minute inside a woman,” Izuna returns with utmost sincerity.
Hyuuga Sakurai splutters at the sudden innuendo, his pale face colouring immediately.
Unable to help himself, Tobirama snorts. Izuna only looks even more pleased with himself.
“How uncouth!” Sakurai snaps.
“Aw,” Izuna coos insincerely, grinning blatantly, “I’m sorry, is that something you’re sensitive about? It’s alright, you know, plenty of men struggle to last. Tobirama, tell him.”
Dutifully, Tobirama echoes, “Plenty of men struggle to last.”
Izuna makes a sweeping gesture with his hands. “There you go, Sakurai-kun—an expert medical opinion,” he says grandly. “You are not alone in your struggles.” Compassionately, he adds, “I see you.”
Against all odds and biological constraints, Sakurai manages to turn redder. Tobirama observes with mild curiosity. Maybe Sakurai’s head will actually explode. That could be interesting.
“Go to hell, Uchiha!” Sakurai hisses, spinning on his heel and stomping away, presumably heeding the belated call of self-preservation to keep his brain matter from boiling in his skull like soup.
“Keep working hard , Sakurai-kun!” Izuna calls out cheerfully after him, cackling loudly in response to the incoherent screech Sakurai lets out at that.
Tobirama observes the mischief in the curve of his eyes and asks curiously, “Why does he have such a problem with you?”
“I called him out on a bad proposal one time, and he’s hated me ever since,” Izuna says, shrugging carelessly.
“That’s it?” Tobirama asks, openly bewildered.
“Weird guy, right?” Conversationally, Izuna adds, “They should come up with a name for whatever disorder he’s got.”
“I’ll make sure to notify someone to make an official diagnosis.”
Izuna beams, batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly. “I knew I could count on you.”
Tobirama rolls his eyes and lets Izuna have the last dumpling.
Once dinner is done, Izuna runs off to collect more blackmail on the inebriated attendees who are unfortunate enough to fall victim to his schemes, and Tobirama decides that he has arrived at a suitable point in the evening where he can make his excuses and just go home.
He moulds together a bit of chakra and reaches out with his senses, following the beacon that is Hashirama’s signature to a pavilion by the pond where his brother sits with Uchiha Madara, a deck of cards strewn between them and several bottles of shochu off to the side. They are both obviously thoroughly inebriated. Madara is missing a sandal and is snoring peacefully where he is sprawled out on the floor. Hashirama is quietly singing a drinking song to himself and attempting a complicated looking braid in the mop Madara calls hair.
Tobirama turns on his heel and walks away before his presence can be noted. He’d come to inform Hashirama of his departure, but his brother probably won’t even remember in this state. It is more likely that he will bodily throw himself at Tobirama out of an overwhelming surge of affection and then cry on him. Better to leave him where he is making a fishing net out of the Uchiha clan head’s hair. It’s not like these two are going to be the only drunks at this party. They’ll be fine. Probably. Provided they don’t drown in a pool of their own vomit or something. Since Tobirama is apparently off-duty tonight, this is very firmly Not His Problem.
He’s in the middle of contemplating the benefits of just teleporting away when he freezes at the frenzied approach of two little chakra signatures which are familiar to him only by memory and not experience. Tobirama twists, searching through the crowd as his senses guide him towards his targets.
And then, finally, he sees them: Sarutobi Hiruzen and Shimura Danzo. His students in another lifetime who are currently all of eight-years-old and looking very panicked. Danzo is leaning heavily against Hiruzen though he shows no signs of injury.
Tobirama draws closer, driven by the instinct to soothe before he can even register what he’s doing. “Are the two of you alright?”
Hiruzen whirls around, eyes wide and watery. Very emphatically, he says, “ No ,” and then promptly bursts into tears.
“Ah.” Tobirama blinks. He crouches down, puts himself at their eye level and softens his voice when he asks, “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Maybe I can help.”
Rather helpfully, a distinctly pale looking Danzo provides, “M’gonna throw up.”
Hiruzen cries harder, obviously deeply perturbed by this information.
“Okay,” Tobirama says. “My name is Senju Tobirama. I can try to make you feel less sick, but I’ll need to take a look at you with my chakra first. Is that okay?”
Before Danzo can reply, Hiruzen is all but depositing him in Tobirama’s lap. “I think he ate something funny,” the boy says, sniffling.
Tobirama hums, gently steadying Danzo and casting a diagnostic jutsu over him. “It’s an allergic reaction,” he reports. “Where are your guardians?”
“My father is drunk,” Danzo says miserably. He turns wide eyes to Tobirama. “Am I going to die?”
Tobirama has to make a valiant effort not to let his mouth twitch with amusement in the face of such genuine distress. “No,” he says instead. “It’s relatively mild all things considered. You just need to take some medicine. Both of you must have had some sort of minders. Who’s supposed to be watching you?”
Hiruzen shoots Tobirama a guilty look. “We ditched them.”
Of course they did. Tobirama would never have ended up with non-troublemaking students; the universe simply would not allow such an anomaly. At least they’re talented enough to be ditching their supervision, though it doesn’t bode well for whichever shinobi got bested by a bunch of eight-year-olds.
Tobirama purses his lips at the boys and then makes a snap decision. “You two will have to come with me then,” he tells them. “I can make sure you get the right medicine and are monitored at the Senju compound. It’s close by—only twenty minutes by carriage.”
Hiruzen blinks. “Are you kidnapping us?” He sounds worrying unconcerned about possibly being abducted.
“No,” Tobirama answers patiently. Then, reconsidering, he amends, “Well, maybe.”
“Oh, no ,” Danzo says with feeling, arms wrapped around his middle.
“I will send missives to your clans to let them know where you are so they can come pick you up,” Tobirama offers. “I won’t force you to come with me if you don’t want to, but it’s inadvisable for you to stay untreated.”
Hiruzen—ever the decisive one—tugs on his friend’s elbow so he can hiss in his ear, not subtle in the slightest, “You could die . Let’s just go with him.”
To his credit, despite obviously feeling very ill, Danzo still maintains his inherent wariness. “Do you even know this guy?” he whispers back.
Hiruzen levels him with a flat look. “Obviously,” he says. “He’s the Senju clan heir. He’s famous .”
“Oh.” Danzo blinks and peers over at Tobirama who attempts to keep a straight face in response to the sudden inspection. “Well,” the boy decides after a moment, “alright then, I guess.”
“Good.” Tobirama considers Danzo and the way he is swaying ever so slightly on his feet. “Would you like for me to carry you?”
Danzo flushes and puffs his cheeks out but seems to understand that the offer is in his best interest. After a beat, he nods and shuffles closer, yelping when Tobirama deftly sweeps him up as he stands, the boy held securely to his chest.
“Might throw up on you,” Danzo warns, attempting to sound steady and landing on flustered instead, his fingers clutching at Tobirama’s shoulders.
“That’s alright,” Tobirama tells him softly, patting the boy’s back in hopes to comfort him. “You can’t help being sick. I won’t be upset.”
At the assurance, Danzo’s fight leaves him, and he slumps, allowing his cheek to rest against the cool silk of Tobirama’s kimono. “Okay,” he mumbles and curls close.
Readjusting the weight of his precious cargo to one arm, Tobirama holds out his now freed hand to Hiruzen in a silent offer that is immediately accepted.
“I’m Hiruzen by the way.” Yawning, the child stumbles into Tobirama’s side slightly and offers a wan smile. “Sarutobi Hiruzen. You work with my father.”
“Shimura Danzo,” comes the quiet mumble from Tobirama’s passenger.
Tobirama smiles and tells them very honestly, “I am pleased to meet the both of you.”
The Daimyo sends the alliance his first mission for them towards the tail end of autumn, right before the clans are set to retreat to their compounds for the winter and put all village-related activity on hold.
Apparently, a marriage alliance is being proposed between the brother of the Fire Daimyo and one of the Iron Daimyo’s daughters, and the Daimyo needs a shinobi to deliver the official treaty to the court of Land of Iron. In fact, the Fire Daimyo has gone ahead and taken the liberty of requesting a specific shinobi—namely, Uchiha Izuna—which makes everyone’s lives much easier since there are no debates to be had about which clan’s shinobi should undertake the alliance’s first official mission when they’ve received orders about who must go.
It makes sense for Izuna to be selected for something this politically relevant anyways. He’s a skilled shinobi, is heir to a noble family, and is already familiar with the Iron Daimyo since his time in Hinan.
Which is why Tobirama isn’t sure just why he has been summoned to Hashirama’s office only to be told:
“You will be accompanying Izuna-kun to Iron’s capital.”
Tobirama blinks. “What?”
“With the seasons changing, the paths are different, and no one is as familiar with the winter roads leading to Land of Iron as you are. No clans take long missions outside of Fire this close to the weather turning,” Hashirama explains. “Besides, it’s a good chance to cultivate better inter-clan relations. The Senju and Uchiha still seem to struggle to really trust each other professionally—I’m sure you’ve noticed as much. Both the clan heirs going on this first mission together will be symbolic.”
“So, I’m just acting as his guide to Iron's capital,” Tobirama surmises.
Hashirama nods. “You can go to the Hatake from there. It’s not too far out of the way, is it?”
“Not really. A few days’ detour perhaps but, once I’m on my own, I can just use the hiraishin. We’ll have to leave earlier than I’d been planning anyways, so the passes being closed is less of a concern.” Tobirama frowns. “What about Izuna though? How is he going to make it back?”
Making a vague gesture with his hand, Hashirama says, “He won’t. Since he’s acting almost as an ambassador for the purpose of this mission, the Iron Daimyo will be obliged to treat him as a guest of honour. Izuna will receive accommodations in their capital for the winter until the paths are safe for travel. From there, it is up to you two whether you return together or separately.”
Tobirama’s eyebrows rise. “Well, Izuna did say that he didn’t want to be stuck in the Uchiha compound all winter.”
Hashirama hums. He watches Tobirama with contemplative eyes, lips slightly downturned. Finally, he asks, “Will you be okay? I understand that your situation with Izuna-kun is…” He trails off, clearly searching for a word that Tobirama would allow.
Seeing the conflict on his brother’s face, Tobirama snorts. “We’re perfectly capable of being professional, anija,” he says wryly. “It’s not like we’re fighting.”
“If you say so,” Hashirama says, sighing.
Of course, this isn’t ideal. Tobirama had been hoping some distance would take the edge off the intensity of his and Izuna’s evolving dynamic, and this mission is kind of the opposite of what he’d wanted, but there is still the bulk of the winter for things to change between them from an emotional standpoint.
“It will be fine,” Tobirama says, and tries to get himself to believe it.