Wa
***
Often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one that has been opened for us.
Helen Keller
***
The days leading up to the visit were so hectic no one had time to dwell on anything.
Tobirama went two days without sleep reorganizing the compound to ensure they’d have room for the envoys to stay inside the walls if they chose to. Madara and Hashirama didn’t see why that mattered, since shinobi paranoia practically guaranteed they wouldn’t. Izuna still wanted to hold the actual talks outside the compound walls, but since there was nothing but a few sprouting weeds and cracked lava rock as far as the eye could see he’d been outvoted.
Mito, thankfully, had put the debate to bed after a long lecture on the politics of offering a space you knew would be refused and what it meant when it came to offering favors and blah blah blah.
Shinobi politics rarely ran that deep unless they were dealing with the Daimyo himself but given the unprecedented situation they were now in, Tobirama sacrificed two nights of sleep staring at the compound map and convincing settled people to move.
Mito helped.
The rest of them were useless.
The few surviving clan elders, and Tsume, who apparently delighted in tormenting Madara and Hashirama, insisted the two have new robes made. Far grander than anything either of them have been forced to wear before and listening to the two of them whine and yelp during the fittings is reward enough for Tobirama.
Izuna took over the day to day running of the compound as the senior Uchiha Captain and for the most part, managed to avoid any involvement in the bigger plans. Tobirama honestly can’t tell if it’s because he’s not supportive or he genuinely has no interest, but as long as he’s not creating more work, Tobirama’s happy to leave him on his own.
Madara and Hashirama’s little confession about their plans had blown over after a few hours of letting everyone yell at them, but surprisingly, the majority seemed reassured at the idea that the two people they’d chosen to follow had actually been thinking ahead and putting thought into their actions.
Tobirama himself also found that revelation reassuring.
Annoying, but reassuring.
However, over the last couple of days he and Mito have caught Madara and Hashirama whispering over something whenever they’re alone and neither of them have managed to sneak up on them successfully enough to overhear anything.
Tobirama had been infuriated to realize that Madara’s skill as a sensor was severely underestimated by everyone.
Including himself.
First, he stole Tobirama’s hirashin and finished it and now he’s nearly as good a sensor.
It’s fucking annoying.
The Sharingan already gives Madara a ridiculous advantage. He doesn’t need anymore, but for some reason the gods have seen fit to bless him.
The fucker.
There’s no way Uchiha Madara needs to be so fucking good at so many things.
No way.
In his calmer moments, the logical part of Tobirama’s brain can point out that Madara is Hashirama’s equal for a reason and his brother, for all his faults, is not stupid or weak. It’s foolish to assume Madara would be.
But for kami’s sake why make Madara so fucking skilled and so fucking kind that he took in his enemies based only on his friendship with one of them and so fucking smart he can keep up with Tobi-
He needs to stop this line of thinking, Tobirama realizes. It’s making his hands shake, he’s sweating, his heart is pounding.
This is not good.
Not good at all.
***
The Uchiha are being weird again.
Which is saying something, given how weird they were before.
They’re back to doing that thing where they keep telling Tobirama how great Madara is.
Which, one, it was more believable before Tobirama started to get to know him, and two, Tobirama is not blind. As much as he may not like it or want to admit it, he had noticed Madara strengths.
That does not, in any circumstance, mean he wants to hear about them from someone else.
What’s making it weirder now, aside from the Aburame and Inuzuka getting in on it, is the giggling.
He keeps stumbling on groups of Uchiha giggling.
Or turning around and finding them watching him…giggling.
It’s weird.
Weirder.
And he can’t avoid them because they’re everywhere, which shouldn’t be possible because according to his calculations the Senju outnumber them three to one and now there were the Aburame and Inuzuka too.
But there they are.
Staring at him.
Giggling.
Asking him if he saw Madara-sama’s elegant footwork during training.
Did you see the new ration plan? We get fresh vegetables!
If he’d heard how Madara-shishou had talked down an arguing couple. Without losing his own temper, isn’t that impressive Tobirama-sama!
Aren’t his arms fantastic?
Madara’s arms are the stuff of Tobirama’s nightmares at this point.
Especially since he just had to watch Madara strip down for his final, unwilling robe fitting after Tobirama had to be the one to drag them both, Hashirama and Madara, to the seamstress.
The envoys are supposed to arrive tomorrow and Tobirama had been tracking the steady approach of their chakra for the last two days. Tension in the compound had ratcheted up as they moved closer and last night the guard teams had actually acted like guards for the first time since the fire.
There was no way to really guess how the meeting would go. Their leadership group had gone back and forth in a series of meetings trying to guess what they wanted to discuss, what they would demand, but there were just too many unknowns at this point.
There are just so many unknowns now and while he’d love to blame Hashirama and Madara for all of them, he knows that’s not fair.
They are responsible for a lot of them, there’s no doubt about that, but not all of them.
Zetsu, for one, would have been a threat no matter what.
And landscapes change over time.
Everything changes. Hashirama and Madara may have forced a whole lot of change all at once, but there’s not arguing that a lot of those changes likely would have still happened down the line.
Civilians that don’t change die, Moro had said at one of the few public meetings she’d attended.
He glances back inside, where Hashirama and Madara are suffering through poking and prodding from the seamstresses.
Among the many differences between the Senju and Uchiha are their clan colors, with the Senju preferring earth colors of green and brown and the Uchiha so obviously fire, with the red, but also the blue that represented nobility.
The only color they tended to share was white, so the new robes were mostly white with Hashirama’s accents in green and Madara’s in red. From what Tobirama had heard, the colors had been the subject of an intense debate (screaming match) between the remaining elders on both sides. Proving that no matter what the situation, they could find something to be upset about.
But they actually looked good now. Still weirdly like wedding robes because of all the white, but Mito had said that was a good thing. Signifying the union of the clans, when he’d brought it up to her.
But Hashirama, with his warm coloring, had always looked good in white.
And Madara…
…
….Madara had back muscles that flexed as he slid the robe off again.
He had a few scars, more than Tobirama had expected given his level of skill, and they moved and shifted with the muscles of his back and broad broad shoulders.
Have they always been that broad?
A tug on his sleeve drug his eyes away from Madara’s form.
Kagami, adorable tiny demon spawn Kagami, who is apparently Madara’s son now and brings chaos and mayhem wherever he goes.
Tobirama still catches the children running around naked from time to time for no apparent reason other than they’ve decided it’s fun.
And he looks too innocent with those wide Uchiha eyes and a head of messy curls. Being the baby of the clan certainly hasn’t decreased his ability to get away with anything either.
Somehow, it’s made him the baby of all the other clans too, despite the Senju and the Aburame having a handful of children younger than him.
He ignored Aki and Ami a few feet away and their knowing looks to kneel down for the boy.
“Tobi-chan. Tobi-chan!”
Tobirama ignored the snickers. Only Kagami got away with calling him that. “What, little one?”
“Did you see Shishou?”
“I did.” Who do you think dragged him over here, Tobirama didn’t say. Although from Aki and Ami’s grin they heard it anyway.
Kagami clung to his top, teetering dangerously as he tried to climb into Tobirama’s lap. Tobirama automatically put a hand on his back to steady him and somehow ended up standing with the boy cradled in his arms.
Kagami looked far too pleased with himself. “Doesn’t Shishou look handsome in his new robes?”
Kagami was adorable and soft and cuddly in a way that reminded Tobirama of Jiro, but he wasn’t sure either of them was adorable and soft and cuddly enough for Tobirama to say Madara was handsome.
Aki and Ami burst into laughter nearby and Kagami turned to them, outraged.
“Kagami, aren’t you supposed to be with Izuna?”
Kagami froze when he heard Madara’s voice, hiding his face in Tobirama’s chest.
“Kagami.” Madara was barely dressed as he stepped outside and Tobirama wanted to point out that he looks more like a samurai than a shinobi with the way his robe gapes open to reveal his very defined chest, but he doesn’t.
Madara has a scar on his left pectoral that Tobirama can’t immediately place but the crescent shape sits just above his left nipple. Proof that there was at least one person in this world that had nearly succeeded in killing him.
What kind of weapon would leave a scar like that?
It could have been a kunai but the level of precision would require Madara be still and that doesn’t seem likely.
A broken bottle of some kind?
“Tobi-chan?”
He looks down at the child in his arms and there’s such innocence in those wide liquid eyes, in the small hands clutching his shirt that Tobirama is impressed.
Madara is not, based on the raised eyebrow and crossed arms.
When Kagami turns those eyes back on Tobirama all he can do is sigh and give in. “Yes, fine, your Shishou is...handsome.” The word feels weird in his mouth, and he waves his free hand at Madara’s…everything. “With his, you know, all that.”
Aki and Ami sound like they’re dying off to the side and Tobirama has to forcibly remind himself that they need every warrior they can get and killing two Uchiha Captains would not be helpful.
Kagami beams and it’s a little bit like the sun coming out, which the actual one still hasn’t because the ash cloud hasn’t cleared enough yet.
Madara has a strange flush to his face and chest when Tobirama turns and hands him Kagami.
Madara with a child in his arms is…
Tobirama’s not particularly fond of children at this point in his life. He doesn’t have much experience with them, although he knows he needs to have some of his own soon and he’s a bit excited about that.
He can feel the heat gathering in his cheeks and there’s something strange in Madara’s eyes.
There often is these days and Tobirama isn’t sure if it’s something with the Sharingan that he has no knowledge of or something he should recognize but hasn’t yet.
He turned away when he felt his mouth go dry.
***
Tobirama is so intent on ignoring his own response to Madara…
…Madara is so intent on hiding his response to Tobirama…
Neither of them are paying enough attention to Hashirama, watching them from behind a stack of silk and cloth with a particular gleam in his eyes and whispering madly to himself.
***
“I’m telling you, Izu, it’s happening!” Hashirama was pacing back and forth, back and forth in the tiny space that they used as their private bedroom.
And Izuna was the unlucky bastard trapped in here with him.
Where was Mito? Why wasn’t she suffering with him?
“Tobirama was staring at his chest. He’s never stared at anyone’s chest before! Although, Madara does have a wonderful chest.” Hashirama pulled open his own robe and looked down at his chest. “Is it better than mine?”
Izuna contemplated the kunai he had stashed under his pillow.
“All the times I tried to talk up Madara or get them to work together. Nothing! Kagami comes in and-“
“For kami’s sake,” Izuna groaned. “Please shut up.” He’d made a point of staying out of Hashirama’s attempts to make their brother’s bond.
“But Izu-”
“No. Enough.” It’s not a tone Izuna uses often, content to let Madara be the iron hand when needed, and it makes Hashirama freeze. It’s annoying, because Madara responds the same way, and it always makes him feel terrible. “Wait, you haven’t been telling the others to talk Madara up, have you?”.
Hashirama started to sweat. “N-no….”
“Your brother thinks he’s losing his mind.”
“I just want them to be happy,” Hashirama says, voice low. That’s all he’s ever wanted. Everyone happy and healthy and whole. That was the reason for the village in that first life. Somewhere children didn’t have to die on battlefields. Somewhere his brother could flourish instead of shrinking and contorting himself to fit. Somewhere Madara wasn’t left to rot away in loneliness.
Somewhere Zetsu and Kaguya couldn’t touch.
“I know you do,” Izuna admitted as he looked up. “Believe it or not, I realize you’re just a giant ball of sap. And I know you love my brother as much as I do. But a love that does not come naturally is worth nothing. It won’t help him, either of them. It won’t heal Tobirama, and it won’t stop my brother from falling to the Curse of Hatred. It’s like the blood we give the wards. The willingness to sacrifice is what makes it strong. If you have to manipulate and scheme and change people, it’s not love. It’s just some twisted facsimile.”
It’s never pleasant to watch Hashirama wilt, all his hopes withering away.
“It will only hurt them in the long run, Hashirama,” Izuna added, reaching over to take his hands. “If they are meant to be happy together, they will find their way there by themselves.”
“But what if they don’t?” And Hashirama’s a grown man, but his voice still breaks at the end.
“Then it wasn’t meant to be,” Izuna sighed. Mito had told Hashirama the same thing the last time this had come up.
Because that was a truth of life, wasn’t it? Something could make all the sense in the world, and that still didn’t mean it was meant to be. But Hashirama trusts Izuna and Mito, trusts their judgment in all things. Mito may lack the knowledge the Rinnegan shared, but she knows people, knows the human race in all its technicolor glory.
Izuna knows, thanks to the Sharingan. How much he knows Hashirama isn’t sure, but he knows he saw some of those lives. The ones where Madara died alone. The ones where Tobirama loved and had his own children. That he would still risk letting that happen again hurts, but unfortunately, doesn’t make him wrong. Tobirama and Madara are spectacularly stubborn people, who only become more obstinate when others attempt to force them into things. Hashirama may wish nothing but the best for them, but his wishes don’t count in this instance.
The Uchiha had long held the tenet that a love that is not given free of all constraints and conditions is not love at all.
***
There are more lives than those she shared. Calamity and Pretty Flower could remember them if they tried, but it’s perhaps for the best that they don’t.
Snowflake didn’t always die alone and unhappy, even if the village didn’t survive. There are more than a few where he married and had a family of his own where his blood continued until Kaguya’s victory.
Though it is a bit of a relief, she thinks, that none of those relationships offered half the passion and happiness that he could have with Calamity.
Perhaps it’s for the best that they have all forgotten those other lives.
***
Izuna, for all that he lectures Hashirama about staying out of it, wishes for the same thing.
He wants his brother to be happy, not just to keep him out of Kaguya’s hands, but just because. Hashirama is too emotionally invested, he cares too much. Or he feels it too much? Whatever it is, it has blinded him to a rather cataclysmic event.
But Izuna has seen it. Had to go off by himself the first day he noticed and just scream himself horse.
Because Tobirama has been looking.
Short, fleeting glances. Like moths drawn to light but whose survival instinct is still strong enough to have them turn away before they die.
Crimson eyes that look thoughtful, interested, like he does when facing a particularly challenging puzzle.
Not matter how much Madara insists he’s given up and accepted his fate. That he has found enough happiness elsewhere, Izuna knows his brother is a soft-hearted fool like all Uchiha when it comes to love. The hope will never completely desert him, even if it would be better for him.
It is a delicate situation, with how touchy Madara and Tobirama are about their feelings. Any outside influence, no matter its intent, runs the risk of ruining everything before it even gets off the ground.
So Izuna will play the bad guy, will shut down everyone, including Hashirama because bless his heart that man cannot be subtle about anything, confident that the Senju will forgive him later when everyone is happy, to give them the best possible chance of getting their heads out of their ass’s and figuring it out.
Kami, they’re going to owe him so much sake when this is over.
***
That night, he left Hashirama and Mito in bed and went to find Madara alone. Madara was settled on the engawa with a pipe while Kurama and Hoshi dozed behind him. The envoys were due tomorrow morning. Aki and Ami had been telling everyone what they saw at the seamstresses so pretty much everyone had forgotten what a big day tomorrow is in favor of gossiping about Madara.
Izuna’s not sure why his brother has always inspired that level of interest. Especially since he spends his limited free time reading and writing poetry or contemplating the stars.
He’s boring.
Sooooo boring. It drove Izuna mad when he was small and trying to copy everything his big brother did. He had no talent for wordsmithing and no patience for reading anything that wasn’t intelligence reports.
And what the hell did Madara see in the sky that kept him enraptured for hours on end?
Izuna snuggled into the Hoshi’s fur and just enjoyed the silence for a bit before he finally resigned himself to speaking.
“So….”
“Did Hashirama put you up to this?”
“No. And, mean, big brother.”
Madara sighed, and it showed how much this situation had been weighing on him that he gave Izuna an apologetic look and offered to share his pipe.
He didn’t share that damn pipe with anyone.
“Hashirama just loves you both, a little too much, but everything about him is a little too much.” Izuna muttered as he took the pipe. Running his thumb over the Uchiha fans carved into the ancient wood. It had been Tajima’s once, and before that his father and so on.
Madara laughed and there was a wistfulness to it that rang true. “True enough. I’m fine, little brother. I am…happier than I have been for a long time.”
“Good.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, broken occasionally by a soft snort from Hoshi or Kurama. Izuna looked up at the stars, at the moon where Kaguya could do nothing but look down on them and seethe.
Ha. Bitch.
“Are you happy?” Madara didn’t look at him as he asked. He’d been careful not to ask anything like it before now. So, so afraid of plunging Izuna back into the darkness that had consumed him after Midoriko’s death.
Izuna took a minute to think about his answer. “As much as I can be, I guess.” The loss of Midoriko still hurt like a raw, open wound, but he enjoyed Hashirama and Mito more than he ever thought he would. They’re enough to keep him going long enough to fight Zetsu and Kaguya.
After that…who knows. But Izuna won’t say that to Madara. Won’t give any hint that he isn’t contemplating life after the war.
There are still too many unknowns, anyway.
But he will sit here with his brother for a few more minutes, which is about as long as he can stand to be still when he’s awake.
He rolled other his feet a few minutes later, when Madara refilled and relit his pipe.
“Good night, little brother.”
“Good night, Dara.” Izuna took his time walking to the end of the engawa, glancing out over the now barren garden his mother had once tended obsessively. “Oh, I meant to ask earlier, did you notice?”
Madara cocked his head, confused, as he sucked on the pipe as Izuna started working through the hand signs to teleport. He shares that trait with Tobirama, which promises plenty of entertainment for years too. A genius at strategy and all means of science, but utterly stupid when it comes to emotional and interpersonal intelligence.
“Tobirama.” And all Izuna has to do is say his name to have Madara’s complete attention. “He’s been watching you.”
And then Izuna forms that last seal and vanishes in a cloud of smoke.
He doesn’t see it, but he knows Madara’s rarely seen blush bloomed across his face in his wake.
***
Izuna is wrong.
There is no way Izuna was right.
It’s not possible.
Never mind that Izuna has been right about many things in the past.
He couldn’t sleep after Izuna’s little bomb last night. Spent the rest of the night on the engawa staring at nothing and trying to run back over every moment with Tobirama since he’d woken up.
He’d still been lost in the memories when Hikaku and Sana came to find him just after sunrise and barely managed to shake himself out of the spiral as they shoved breakfast in his face and gave him a far to thorough bath while he was still chewing.
The only relief was when he’d been shoved in a room to get changed with Hashirama and found the man just as disturbed as he was.
“I’ve never been forcibly bathed before,” Hashirama had an air of shock to him as Sana, a recently recovered Ren, Hikaku, and Renji dutifully followed the seamstresses’ instructions and put on layer after layer of pristine robes that definitely weren’t going to stay that way for long.
The thoughts started creeping back in when they finally make their way outside and they joined a radiant Mito, wearing even more layers than Madara and Hashirama and somehow managing to look poised and graceful, Izuna, the cheat was only wearing his captain’s uniform, and Tobirama, who was apparently also a cheat and wearing the Senju equivalent.
“Why do you guys get to be comfortable?” Hashirama whined when he saw them.
“Because this is literally all your fault,” Tobirama has no sympathy for either of them, though he does spend exactly three more seconds examining Madara than he does Hashirama.
Madara was counting.
So was Hashirama and he barely manages to contain his glee.
It helps when Mito stomps on his foot.
“The envoys should be here in the next ten-“ Tobirama’s sudden silence puts everyone on alert. Most of the civilians were ordered to stay away from the main gate and the teahouse selected to hold the meeting. Nearly half the active force of the Uchiha, Senju, Inuzuka, and Aburame were on alert, the others resting just in case. There was no telling how long the meeting would take, though no one expected them to want to stay in the compound at night. If the talks ran over, they’d likely sleep well outside the compound walls and return in the morning.
They brought a large enough party that likely included a healthy guard along with the senior clan members to handle the negotiation. Nearly thirty people in all had crossed the border of the Uchiha’s land three days ago.
Ridiculous large for a first meeting and that fact has had many in the compound on edge all morning.
“Tobi?” Hashirama’s hand is warm, comforting on his shoulder.
“They’re here.” Tobirama, terse. Upset. “A larger party than expected.”
Izuna cursed. “Great. Already trying something.”
“We don’t know that.” Mito murmured.
“Thirty was already too many for this,” Izuna argues and Tobirama nods in agreement.
Tsume, who’s robes couldn’t be redder if the god’s themselves tried, kicked a pebble and looked two seconds away from flinging off her robes and calling it quits. Mayu was dressed nicely but not nearly as nicely as her mother, which further blurred the lines over which one of them was actually representing the clan.
For peace’s sake, Tobirama hoped it was Mayu.
All the nin-kin and wolves were out of sight. Jiro was probably still pouting in Tobirama’s room, where he’d been since Moro decided none of them were to show themselves during the talks.
“There.” Itachi murmured as the first figures came into view a mile from the main gate.
Everyone fell silent as they moved closer, more figures appearing behind them. Hashirama and Madara shuffled to the front of the group and normally there would have been guards surrounding them, but as established by yet another debate (screaming match) it was a bit of moot point to have anyone but Hashirama and Madara guard Hashirama and Madara.
It’s kind of stupid to waste the guards on Tobirama, Izuna, and Mito too but somebody has to have guards, or it’ll look way too disrespectful according to the elders.
There’s a heavy silence as they watch the envoys approach and it’s not until they’re close enough to start seeing facial expressions, the whites of their eyes Butsuma used to say, that Tobirama realizes there’s a much bigger problem than a few extra guests.
Because there aren’t a few extra guests.
Well, there are, but they’re not with the envoys from the Akimichi, Nara, Yamanaka, and Hyuga.
There’s an entirely separate party numbering in the-
“Greetings, Lord Uchiha, Lord Senju.” The lead guard, a seasoned Nara from his dark coloring and lazy droll. “Thank-”
“Brother-” Tobirama’s hand fell to his sword, but before he or the Nara could continue Madara’s head snapped to the side and Hashirama’s followed.
And Madara started walking and it almost looked like he was walking forward to greet the Nara, like he should have been, except he walked right past the man, skirted the outer guard of the party and headed straight for-
“Is that the Namikaze?” One of the visiting Yamanaka muttered in disbelief.
One of his companions nodded as the envoys started whispering furiously to themselves.
“Where the hell did they come from?” Mayu muttered.
“And why?” Behito hissed.
The compound guards shifted, but none of the Uchiha moved. Izuna didn’t even looked surprised, he just looked annoyed.
“Izuna…”
“Don’t start with me. They didn’t say anything.” He groaned as they watched Madara and Hashirama approach the gathered Namikaze, a tiny clan that barely numbered a hundred.
A young woman stepped forward. Her blond hair pulled into an elegant bun, and she wore the robes of a clan leader in the Namikaze’s blue and gold. She was hunched over, nervous Tobriama could tell, but as she walked out to meet Madara, who headed straight for her, ignoring the envoy guards that tried to get his attention, she seemed to shed the nervousness.
By the time she and Madara met in the middle she stood tall and sure, a bright smile coming out as she grew more assured of their welcome, even extending her hand instead of the traditional bow as Madara reached her.
Not that that seemed to matter, as Madara skipped the hand and swept her off her feet in a hug instead.
“What the hell is he doing?” Tobirama hissed at Izuna.
“It’s not what it looks like.” Izuna muttered.
What the fuck did that mean? “I don’t care what it looks like. He just ignored the dignitaries to hug some random woman.”
Izuna winced, but there was no going back now, as Hashirama was enthusiastically hugging another Namikaze now.
“Adapt.” Mito hissed, sweeping forward to greet the envoys.
Izuna and Tobirama stumbled after her, but before she can even start to try and salvage this shit show an entirely different clan shows up.
The fucking Hatake.
“What the fuck is happening?” Tobirama hissed.
“I hate them so fucking much,” Izuna whined as Hashirama grabbed the young Hatake clan leader in what looked more like an attack than an embrace.
***
Uchiha Kikyo has been around for a long time.
A long, long time.
And that’s not even counting all those lives Madara and Hashirama fucked up and had to start over.
She’d thought she’d seen it all.
She had seen it all, she’d just forgotten a whole bunch of it too.
Like exactly how skilled Madara and Hashirama were at communicating with one another, way beyond what was normal, and completely forgetting to communicate with anyone else.
She stayed out of it all so far. It’s not her place or her task to see through and, if she’s being brutally honest, Madara and Hashirama don’t actually need help. No yet anyway, maybe not even if Kaguya manages to get free this time around. They’ve both grown so much in strength and experience, they could probably defeat her together and if it was only Kaguya they’d face Kikyo would have been happy to leave them to it and return to the mountain.
Unfortunately, grandmother, for all her arrogance and elitism, had never been quite that stupid. Zetsu was still crawling around somewhere and only the gods knew what he’d cooked up or who he’d recruited.
She’d been planning to leave before that letter had arrived, content to leave Tsume to watch over things, but her own curiosity had trapped her.
In that first lifetime, the other clans of Fire had been drawn to the village only after it had been established, and the transition had been deceptively peaceful with most of the conflict happening behind closed doors.
This time the other clans were approaching before Madara and Hashirama even had the Daimyo’s permission to form the village and while the letter had been more curious than anything else, that didn’t mean it was peaceful.
The Senju had no idea who she was and most of the younger Aburame and Inuzuka were too inexperienced to really comprehend her. Those who did avoided her attention unless there was something they wanted to learn and the Uchiha would never betray her, so it was easy to borrow a basic uniform and act like she was part of the guard.
Tsume had laughed hysterically when she’d first spotted her.
Now she was laughing for an entirely different reason.
Not that Kikyo could blame her. Between the offended envoys, their confused clansmen, and the overwhelmed Namikaze and Hatake it seemed only Madara and Hashirama knew what was going on.
Although knew was a stretch. They were more likely just reacting to a plan they’d enacted and then forgotten about.
In most of their lives, including that first one, the Namikaze and Hatake were usually among the last clans to join the village and despite the importance of both bloodlines to Madara and Hashirama’s descendants, it was always a toss-up if the Namikaze would survive long enough to join or if the Hatake would choose to go south instead of west.
She just doesn’t know why she bothers to be surprised anymore.
Madara and Hashirama made an impulsive but brilliant strategic move that’s about to change the entire face of this war and then forgot all about it until it came to fruition.
And naturally, it came to fruition at the worst possible moment. It’s been a long time since she’s seen a Hyuga look that offended or a Nara that confused. The Yamanaka and Akimichi were always the more even keeled.
To be fair, she supposes there are a few worse situations for the Namikaze and Hatake to arrive.
Indra had always loved to say, “It can always get worse.” Whenever one of them complained.
Kikyo’s not as pessimistic as her father. One of the best things Indra’s water princess did was soften a heart turned to stone and then made sure no one else ever got close enough to hurt it again.
She used to worry that Madara’s heart would turn the way her father’s had, after losing Izuna it had been almost there and in that first life, Hashirama had struck the final blow that took it over the edge.
And then he’d died before he grew the balls to fix his mistake.
Kikyo’s never met two people who loved each other and the world so much that they kept sacrificing one for the other over and over.
This time it almost seems like they’ve got it figured out.
So far, anyway. There were other lives that got a bit farther than they are now and it fell apart in the end. There were even a few where Madara and Hashirama succeeded, and the eventual failure and Kaguya’s victory was the fault of someone else entirely.
Madara and Hashirama are the closest thing to students that Kikyo has ever had, not counting Tsume and she’s surprised at how invested in them she’s become. They remind her of her father and uncle and what she imagines they were before grandfather decided he had to pick one over the other and set them up as rivals instead of brothers.
….
Was that why Madara and Hashirama clung so tightly to one another? Indra and Sura had been brothers who became rivals and they’d never been able to bridge the gap after.
Madara and Hashirama had been born as rivals but decided to be brothers instead and the whole wasn’t enough to change their mind.
Was it some kind of cosmic correction for the mistake made all those years ago?
***
Nara Shika is ancient by shinobi standards. He’s forty-six, he’s been on battlefields and missions for the last thirty-seven years and he just received his first great grandchild curtesy of his daughter’s son’s wife.
The last few months have seen more upheaval than the rest of his life altogether and it’s the first time he’s honestly contemplated retiring and finding a hut somewhere on Nara land where he could watch the clouds in peace until age or the innumerable injuries, he’s received over his life caught up to him.
He did not think, at any point, that he’d be seeing the forbidden friendship between the Uchiha and Senju Clan heirs playing out in real time.
He’d been halfway convinced it was made up.
The strength of the hatred between those two clans had always seemed too immense to overcome and when rumors first started to circulate Butsuma and Tajima’s sons were meeting in secret, well, most hadn’t believed them.
A few doomsayers had thought it was the start of a Senju-Uchiha partnership to destroy the other clans and there’d been a few years there where more than a few had started making plans and alliances meant to withstand a united Senju-Uchiha force.
But when nothing had materialized and the rumors had stayed relatively innocent, most of those plans had been shelved.
Madara had been one of the younger of Tajima’s children and his rise to heir to eventual clan leader had surprised even a handful of the Nara strategists and he’d stayed unsurprisingly unpredictable ever since.
Hashirama…. well, Hashirama was almost more annoying, because everyone had thought they’d had the measure of him and apparently, they’d just been that wrong.
He was just as unpredictable as Madara.
No one wonder their friendship was apparently the stuff of legend.
Just thinking about it made Shika tired.
Watching them was exhausting.
And thinking about the fallout of the fact that Madara and Hashirama, per usual, seemed eager to buck any tradition, any social practice, they felt like.
Nara Shin, sister to Shika’s current clan leader, seemed calm, but she was a genius by Nara standards and very little ever seemed to phase her.
Likewise, Akimichi Chou, soon to be the first female clan leader in her line, was well known for being impossible to rile and was watching Madara and Hashirama ignore her with a blank expression.
Yamanaka Iori looked annoyed, but he always did when it came to dealing with any clan outside the triad.
And Hyuga Hiro looked like he was about to lose his mind. He’d only become the Hyuga clan leader two years ago, but he’d been doing the job for far longer as his father had spent the last ten years in a wound induced delirium and Hiro had run the clan from the shadows until the injury finally did him in.
Shika had been surprised he’d chosen to come in person, but the Hyuga, while a noble clan, did not have the strong alliances of the Akimichi or the seer breadth of power of the Uchiha.
They had their nobility and not much else.
They were all stuck, watching Madara and Hashirama greet two clans that were at the bottom of the shinobi hierarchy and ignore those at the top of it.
And then it got worse.
***
Madara seats the Namikaze clan leader on his left, with Hashirama on his right.
Hashirama seats the Hatake clan leader, who looks like he desperately wants to be anywhere else, on his right, with Madara on his left.
Mito sits to the right of the Hatake and to her right, the Aburame.
To the Namikaze’s left sits the Inuzuka.
And not Mayu, Tsume.
Izuna takes a seat next to the Aburame, forcing Tobirama to take the seat next Tsume, while he contemplates just how insulted the Hyuga and the Akimichi are right now.
He be relieved at how unbothered the Aburame and Inuzuka are, if he hadn’t learned by now that they’re just as crazy as the Uchiha.
The Hyuga and the Akimichi sit side by side, with the Nara and Yamanaka beside the Akimichi, and three minor clans they weren’t expecting beside the Hyuga.
The Shimura, the Sarutobi, and the Kura all sent representatives, but who invited them is the big question.
“The Sakura Alliance greets its most esteemed guests.” Namikaze Mina bowed.
The envoys bowed in return, but before any of them could offer the proper response Madara turned to Mina. “Why the hell are you naming us after flowers?”
“Did either of you stop to come up with a name?”
Madara sputtered and started to blush. Hashirama winced and sakura blossoms started sprouting in his hair. “No?”
Mina didn’t look surprised. “Then we’re the Sakura Alliance.” She turned back to the envoys.
“I like it.” Mito declared.
“I want to go back to the mountain.” Hatake Gin muttered.
“Only if you take me with you.” Izuna hissed.
“Behave, you fools!” Behito hissed from behind Mito.
“We are behaving!” Hashirama defended.
Nadeshinko swept in, followed by a trail of far-more-elegantly dressed-than-normal kunoichi with trays of tea and thankfully everyone fell silent as they delivered tea in the best cups the Uchiha had.
The envoys are clearly off balance. There’s a script to these things and no one knows what to say now that’s gone so drastically off course so quickly.
Madara and Hashirama are too stubborn to do it and Mito’s too much of a power player and Izuna just does not give a shit about being diplomatic so Tobirama’s gearing up to throw himself on the sword when Tsume leans forward and says, “Come to beg?”
Tobirama wants to stab her with a kunai.
Wait, he has a kunai.
He can stab her.
He even slides it into his hand, but then, without even looking at him, Tsume’s hand lands on his and squeezes so hard the kunai cuts into his palm and she gives him a shit eating grin.
“Excuse me?” Hyuga Hiro seethes. His chakra just barely under control.
“Such high-ranking envoys.” Tsume grinned and it was somehow bloodier than Tobirama’s hand. “You either came to beg to join us, or to beg for mercy.”
Madara throws a teacup at her, and it bounces off her head as Hashirama laughs nervously.
Tobirama officially hates someone more than Madara.
***
We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another.
Veronica Roth, Divergent
***