Scratching at the Door (Please let me in)
Lying face down on his bedroom floor, Tobirama is nearly ready to admit defeat. He’s been trying to be-not quite a better person but at least a less terrible one. It had hurt, to know that his own brother had believed him capable of the horrors the rumors had claimed. True, Tobirama himself rarely gave notice to his spreading infamy but he wasn’t unaware. Had even made use of it, a time or two. Not that he would be informing the Uchiha clan on why the number of attempted bloodline thefts had so drastically fallen. No, that way only lead to excessive tears. ‘Which,’ he reminds himself, ‘makes the situation as least partially your own fault.’ He has so few reasons to be soft that apparently his own kin no longer believe him to be capable of it. Touka had laughed so hard she nearly rebroke her ribs when Tobirama had dragged himself to her sickbed after his return from the desert to ask for child-care advice. Upon further consideration, she really had been a terrible person ask. There’s a reason the Elders haven’t been pushing for her to marry and it has little to do with her battle prowess. This has forced him to seek advice elsewhere (never a good thing) and Tobirama must admit that he is quite displeased with what he’s found. Quite frankly, Tobirama isn’t sure he would trust his fellow shinobi with their own lives anymore. The clan’s civilians do a better job of the physical aspects of care at least, but he also terrifies them with his mere presence. It is, perhaps, not the worthiest use of his talents to stalk his own kinsfolk but needs must. He doesn’t know when his cub will return, but he is determined to do a better job of caring for her when she does.
What aid he does have has come from a thoroughly unexpected group. Apparently the clan’s children have taken being warned away from him as a sign to attach themselves even closer. Tobirama isn’t quite sure what they hope to achieve by this, but as his own rebellions include corpse reanimation and continued treason a preferred teacher is if nothing else much safer. Specifically helpful are 7 year-old Kuro and his 2-year-old baby brother Kisuke. When Kuro had first been forced to bring his brother to their rather clandestine lessons the boy had been rightfully worried. As the children of civilians the boy is already at a disadvantage. To risk being sent away the situation must have been dire indeed. In truth, Tobirama had been pleased. Kisuke appears to be a similar age to his own cub, and thus perfect for first-hand experience. It is also a sign of trust, to be allowed to watch over another’s cub, and Tobirama has worked hard to prove worthy of it. The trust of a child, once broken, is remarkable difficult to regain. His other pseudo students, upon realizing his desire to learn cub-care, have taken it upon themselves to impart what wisdoms they’ve learned along with the surprisingly skillful creation of a rotating schedule for the introduction of additional younger siblings and cousins. If nothing else Tobirama can just wait out the frightened grumblings of the older generations because no force on this planet will convince Kimiko that he’s someone to be feared after he helped her finally overcome her difficulties with elemental jutsu.
Groaning, he refocuses, flipping over onto his back. Child-proofing his room was not supposed to be this difficult. A subtle glint has him reaching to pry a kunai out from underneath his desk. He doesn’t have the slightest idea how it managed to end up there. At least he won’t have to explain to anyone why he’s changed the room’s entire layout for the first time in 11 years. The only ones who would notice are Hashirama and Touka, and he can just tell them to fuck off. None-the-less, he’s quite pleased with the arrangement he’s finally settled on. And with the parenting books he’s managed to smuggle in from across the elemental nations. At least his mission schedule has been useful for something, though recently it has tapered off slightly. Someone must have finally said something after Tobirama accidentally passed out in the back garden. His minimum rest days have never been so thoroughly enforced. If he wasn’t sure it would be taken for an insult he would hunt down whoever it was and thank them.
Sighing, Tobirama rises stiffly to his feet. His last mission had left him with a plethora of overstrained muscles but at least his cover is still intact. A success, if a limited one. Habitually he draws his awareness in, caressing the little spark that has held some small fraction of his attention from the moment he found it. Patience has never been his best skill, but it’s one he’s growing far more familiar with nowadays. At least he’s had some time to consider how to go about discovering his cub’s name. She already has one, of that he’s certain, but what it might be is going to be a lesson in frustration no doubt.
Almost as if the gods have been waiting on him, a stinging shiver brushes across his senses. Even as he whips around to the source Tobirama takes half a second to activate his privacy seals just in case. Little hands are already investigating when he lays eyes on her, his cub having appeared in the middle of his bed. Joy bursts across his mind as he immediately drops down beside her.
“Hello again Little One,” he murmurs as he sweeps her up into his arms. Instantly he’s bombarded by an overwhelming rush of emotions. On sheer instinct he flares out his own chakra, and only has a moment to regret it before his face is tugged down to hope-filled eyes. A much softer curl of /hope-concern-confusion/ brushes through him as tiny brows furrow. Understanding strikes him like a kunai to the ribs, and Tobirama carefully returns the gentle touch with his own feelings of /surprise-acceptance-joy/. A sensor, and a powerful one at that. Oh but his baby girl must have been screaming. “It’s alright sweetheart. You didn’t hurt papa I promise.” Tears slip down her face, but it’s the sheer relief that has Tobirama tucking her against his chest as he blinks the wetness from his own eyes. He sways, humming half remembered lullabies has he gently smothers his cub in feelings of /understanding-peace-love/.
Eventually her tears taper off, little snuffles taking their place as Tobirama pulls back just enough to be able to dry her face off with a spare handkerchief.
“There we go,” he says, careful to pair his words with a matching brush of chakra. “That’s much better, isn’t it?” Agreement echoes back even as her attention visibly wanders to the rest of the room. Curiosity bubbles up, though his little one makes no indication that of wanting to be set down. She feels quite content to remain in his arms for now at least, and he finds himself selfishly glad. Tobirama can’t understand why any parent would want to hand off their children to someone else if they didn’t absolutely have too. He doesn’t think he’ll ever want to so much as put his cub down, much less actually place her into another’s care. /Curiosity-question/ tugs him out of his thoughts and with a quick smile he offers up a tour of his room-being sure to accompany his words with emotions. If he can’t hear her, it would stand to reason that she may not be able to hear him either. He will have to teach her to read lips, but for now their shared sensing will have to be enough. Hmm, he’ll have to look into hand signs as well. Shinobi use a basic set, but there are likely more developed systems as well.
A gentle tug on his collar is joined by a questioning /safe-ours? / Smiling slightly Tobirama shifts his cub higher in order to lovingly press his forehead to hers. /Yes, den-safe/ he sends back, usually suppressed instincts triggering as rumbling purr deep in his chest. Whether or not his cub can actually hear the sound; she can clearly feel the resulting vibrations. On some level she also seems to understand what it means. /Happy! / flares up as she enthusiastically rubs her little cheek against his own in response. ‘Perhaps she has some Wild blood herself,’ Tobirama muses as he arranges the both of them comfortably as his desk. He doesn’t personally know of any Wild clans that boast such blonde curls, but her eyes are only a few shades off of Hatake gray. A second or third generation descendent maybe. Enough to temper the worst of the instincts, but not erase them entirely.
Thankfully he hadn’t had any real plans for the day except for finishing his latest mission report, so Tobirama now fully plans to stay locked away in his room with his little girl for as long as he can. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s locked himself in his room, and the circumstances are far better than is usually the case. Fishing out some scrap paper and a stick a charcoal, he impresses /play-draw/ as he hands them over before dragging his own half-finished report out. If only he hadn’t promised to hand it over this afternoon. A spike of confused acceptance has him smothering a snort even as his little darling scoots forward enough to also reach the desk. A low drum of /concentration/ rumbles unobtrusively as Tobirama allows himself to fall into his own work.
A knock at his door startles him out of his ponderings over a new seal several hours later. Head snapping toward the door, he only has a moment to panic before a static shiver flares and a glance down confirms that his little one is gone. Shaking off the unease caused by the sudden severing of their connection, Tobirama doesn’t bother checking who’s bothering him before unsealing and opening his door.
“Hashirama,” he pauses, slightly startled to see his brother, “Is everything okay?” He hadn’t sensed anything, but admittedly most of his focus had been on the child in his lap.
“Everything is fine,” his brother says immediately, soothing Tobirama’s sudden anxiety. “It’s just, it’s almost time for dinner and you missed lunch. Are-do you just want a tray here?” Tobirama blinks, confused for a few seconds before he realizes just what Hashirama is thinking. When his sensing first developed, Tobirama often suffered from extreme migraines caused by the overstimulation. He used to hide in his room for days at a time, refusing to leave the limited comfort of his den. He only rarely suffers from them anymore, but the chakra dampening seals are tied in to his privacy ones for convenience. Hashirama must have come by earlier and seen them active and worried. His brother’s blatent concern makes Tobirama soften.
“No,” he denies with a shake of his head, “That’s not necessary. Time just got away from me, is all. Let me deliver my report and I’ll join you.”
Leaving his door open, he crosses back to his desk to stopper his ink and grab the report. A charcoal scribble catches his eyes as he does. It’s completely non-functional, but none-the-less an impressive attempt at coping his personally modified storage seal. The sight brings a slight smile to his face as he tucks it underneath his own project. ‘Something to work on,’ he promises himself as he waves his brother off and heads out towards the mission room.