tobirama grows a garden

Tobirama moved with a practiced grace. His hands moved smoothly as he precisely sliced meat and vegetables for lunch. A bit worried, he channeled chakra to his ears, hearing Butsuma scold his brothers in front of Touka and her mother. Itama’s chakra spiked in anger and he ran inside the house, yelling at his father over his back.

“I wish I could hate you!” Itama screamed, stomping into the kitchen.

Tobirama inwardly cringed at the declaration, a bit astounded at the brief hurt Butsuma’s chakra emitted.

“I wanna hate him so bad,” Itama growled, resting his head on the counter. “I hate that I love him. I hate he’s our father. I hate—”

“Perhaps you should stop focusing on your hate and help me with dinner, hm?” Tobirama interrupted. “Another pair of hands couldn’t hurt.”

Itama looked up through his bangs. “Alright…”

“If you don’t want to, I’m perfectly fine switching our lunch plan to something that does not include desserts,” Tobirama huffed, turning back to chopping vegetables.

“No! I’ll help! I’ll help!” Itama shouted, shooting up. “What do you need me to do Aniki?!”

Tobirama snorted at his little brother’s antics. “Wash the rice for me, please.”

“Got it!” Itama saluted, going to vigilantly wash the rice as instructed. 

“Be cautious with the Suiton jutsu, Itama,” Tobirama warned, glancing at his brother from his peripheral. “We don’t want a repeat of the incident.”

Itama shuddered. “Yes, Aniki.”

Tobirama smiled softly, allowing himself to get lost in the methodical thunk of the knife as he minced some herbs. Itama stuck his tongue out in concentration as he tried to make the rice as clean as possible.

Touka treaded carefully into the kitchen. “Mom’s taking a short rest in the guest room. Can I help? I’m very bored.”

“Of course.” “Ah, the coolest Itoko ever! Can you help me with—”

“Nope, Ita-chan! I believe that Tobi told you to wash the rice, not me!” Touka teased. 

“You’re so mean, Kaka,” Itama sighed. 

“…Doesn’t that mean feces in one of Tetsu no Kuni’s languages?” Tobirama asked, quirking a brow. 

“No! No, that’s caca, with a C! I was saying Kaka, like— like, Touka! Toukaka!” Itama stuttered, waving his hands in front of his face in protest. “I wa—”

“Were you calling me shit, precious little cousin?” Touka asked, eyes closed with a deadly smile on her lips.

“No, no, Touka, Ikoto, it’s funny funny, but I wasn’t, didn’t— you know I wouldn’t—”

“Ten,” Touka counted, still wearing that eerie smile. “Nine. Eight.”

Itama screeched before dropping the rice on the counter. He sprinted out of the kitchen as Touka—

“Sevensixfivefourthreetwoone, run!” Touka laughed, chasing after the screaming Itama.

“What is going on over there?” Hashirama asked, a little tired-looking. “Why is Itama…?”

“Why is Itama…?” Tobirama snarked, putting the herbs aside to rinse rice.

“You know,” Hashirama tried to clarify, waving his hand toward the direction of screeching and maniacal laughing.

“Why is Itama? Well, when two people decide they want to have a third child—”

“Tobi!” Hashirama shouted, blushing. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

“Hmph. I’m just making sure you know in case you actually marry Mito.”

“I will marry Mito— wait! We have to… do that if…”

“You’re literally thirteen, Anjia. She just turned fourteen. You don’t have to worry about that yet… At least, I hope you don’t…”

“Tobi!” Hashirama screeched, burying his red face in his hands. “Stooooop!”

“Hm, well—”

“Nope! Nope! I’m out!” Hashirama announced, running out of the room.

Tobirama smiled at his brother. Mito was truly a kind woman. The albino Senju finished washing the rice, reminiscing.

~~~

“Now now, my little bookworm,” his mother cooed. “Maybe we should finish cooking dinner? You know your littlest brother will come out soon, no need to fret, baby.”

Tobirama peered upward from his mother’s stomach. “I don’t wanna, mama. His chaka is talking to mine!”

“Chakra, not chaka, my dear,” his mother smiled, brushing a strand of spiky hair from his bangs. “I’m glad you can sense his chakra. You’re very good at that, my little Tobi. But we must get back to cooking, lest we burn our precious food, hm?”

The two worked in silence, with little three-year-old Tobirama clumsily rolling cooling steamed rice into little spheres.

“Remember, we need to make some easy food for little Itama,” the Senju matriarch gently reminded. “Hm. He can have some broth, but he needs something more solid. Can you get some berries for me?”

“Okay, mama!” Tobirama chirped, rushing to go out in the gardens. 

He returned with a small basket that was full with berries. “I got some, mama.”

“You’re very fast, Tobi,” his mother complimented, smiling at her son. 

“Yep,” Tobirama nodded, wobbling over to his mother. “Here you go, mama.”

“Thank you, baby,” the half-Hatake woman smiled. “Here.”

His mother fed little Tobirama a small rice ball. His eyes lit up and he looked at his mother like she had hung the stars and moon for him. 

“Thank you, mama,” Tobirama said, smiling. 

The Senju matriarch smiled back, saying nothing while gently stirring piping-hot broth in a pot. 

“I love you mama. You too little brother,” Tobirama declared, patting his mother’s stomach. 

The baby kicked, and little Tobirama made a happy noise. He hugged his mother at the waist and started talking to her stomach, where his littlest brother was.

“I have a feeling he’ll really like ramen,” Tobirama’s mother softly laughed. “I added it to my recipe book, so we can all make it together when your little brother pops out. Tch. Maybe that will convince your father to… hm. Well, Tobi, imagine that! A big family making ramen together, so fun, no?”

Tobirama giggled at the idea. “No, mama! My little brothers are too small, too small!”

“Then I’ll have to teach you how to cook it, hm?”

“Yep!” Tobirama nodded, munching on another rice ball. 

“Now, little Tobi, can you pass me the...”

~~~

“Lunch is ready,” Tobirama called out to the house. 

The door to his father’s study creaked open as Touka ran to go wake her mother. Itama was in his seat extremely quick, Hashirama not too far behind.

“Food! Food! Food!” Hashirama chanted, Itama nodding vigorously. 

“Patience. In due time, Anija,” Tobirama sighed, going back into the kitchen to split it into portions. 

Touka and her mother sat down at the table as Tobirama placed down the plate of rice balls in the center of the table. His father arrived after he had began placing the main dish— ramen— in front of each person. Tobirama served some beef tempura to the table and sat down after serving extra vegetables to Hashirama, despite his Anija’s squawk of protest.

“The chef portions the food, Hashirama,” Butsuma reminded his eldest. “…If Tobirama serves you more vegetables, you need them.”

Tobirama paused in eating for a brief moment. Did his father just… defend him? What? His mind filed it away for later as he resumed.

“This is lovely, Tobirama,” Touka’s mother smiled kindly. “Did you make the noodles yourself?”

“Yes,” Tobirama answered, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “I’ve been meaning to use them in a dish before they go bad. My mother’s recipe.”

“…I see,” Touka’s mother responded, going quiet at the mention of her sister-in-law. “Is there any particular reason you chose ramen? Touka’s told me the soba you make is stellar.”

Tobirama glared at the broth of his ramen. “It was Kawarama’s favorite.”

“…I see.”

The scrapes of chirirenge against bowls was deafening in the silence that followed. Once everyone had finished their dishes— save Hashirama and his mountain of veggies— they awkwardly looked at each other.

“Would anyone like some small desserts?” Tobirama offered, speaking in a neutral tone.

“Me,” Itama whispered, raising his hand.

“Me too,” Hashirama nodded. 

“Tch. No, Anija,” Tobirama scolded, walking toward the kitchen. “You haven’t finished your vegetables yet.”

“But Toooooobi!” Hashirama whined from the table. 

“Yeah, eat your veggies, Aniki,” Itama huffed. “I had to eat mine, so you have to eat yours.”

“But—! But—!”

Tobirama reemerged from the kitchen holding a plate of fresh mochi. 

“Aniki! You made mochi?!” Itama exclaimed, eyes wide. Itama blushed when he realized that he had shouted that very loudly in his father’s ear. “Um. I mean. You made mochi?”

“You did help a little, so I thought it would be appropriate to make you your favorite for dessert,” Tobirama admitted. “There’s anko and chocolate.”

“Yes!” Itama cheered, grabbing a mochi. “You’re the best, Aniki!”

“Tobirama,” Butsuma said. “Follow me.”

“…Yes, sir,” Tobirama said, pushing away from the table to follow his father.

The two walked to Butsuma’s study, Tobirama shutting the door behind them. “Sir?”

Butsuma looked at Tobirama with an unreadable expression before turning to run a hand over his desk. “…Don’t call me that. I’m your father.”

Tobirama was confused, but complied nonetheless. “Yes… father.”

“Where has Hashirama been disappearing to?”

Tobirama blinked. “What?”

“Itama told me I should respect your brother’s privacy. He said it’s what a good father would do,” Butsuma sighed. “Do you know why he heads toward the forest in the early mornings?”

Tobirama broke into a cold sweat. Of course he knew where his brother was heading. The Naka River. His brother was okay at concealing his chakra, but not from a skilled sensor such as Tobirama. And hiding chakra meant nothing if Hashirama was so obvious as to have somehow alerted their father to his secret hiding place.

“You don’t have to tell me where it is, at least, not now. Is he safe?” Butsuma continued.

“I don’t know where it is,” Tobirana replied, lying through his teeth. “Maybe to my garden by the Naka?”

“By the Naka River?!” Butsuma asked, disbelief written all over his face. “Tobirama, what have I fucking told you about—”

“I was practicing Suiton and accidentally made Mokuton,” Tobirama lied. “It’s not really a garden, it looks like one, but I’ve never tended to it.”

“How long have you been practicing at the Naka?” Butsuma questioned, stepping threateningly toward Tobirama. “How long have you had Mokuton and kept it hidden from me?!”

“I only practiced at the Naka this once,” Tobirama answered, sticking to his lie. “I only found out I got Mokuton yesterday, father. The Naka was closer than the bath, so I cleaned myself and dried off there. That’s when I found out.”

“You said you were practicing by the Naka, not cleaning off,” Butsuma snarled. “If you lied to me, boy…”

“I cleaned off. When drying off, I pulled the moisture from my clothes. I practiced my Suiton. My apologies, sir, that I interchanged the words. I understand that it must have been confusing—”

“Do not,” Butsuma boomed. “Belittle me, you brat. Who brought you into this world?”

“Mother.”

“You little—” Butsuma hoisted Tobirama up by his collar, choking the small boy slightly. “I am your father. You will call me as such. That is an order.”

“Yes, si… Yes, father,” Tobirama wheezed, quickly running out of air.

“Do not even think to disrespect me, demon,” Butsuma growled, shaking his son in rage. “You exist thanks to me. You would do best to not forget that.”

Butsuma released Tobirama, shoving him against the door. “Go! Get the fuck out!”

Tobirama quickly bowed and ran out of the room, wincing at the harsh slam. He avoided the dining room and silently trudged toward his room. Touka’s mother had a few glasses of wine next to where she was passed out on the couch, but none of his brothers or Touka could be found. Until he got to his door.

“Aniki!” Itama cried. “Are you okay? What happened? Is everything alright? Did he—”

“I’m alright,” Tobirama sighed. “Anija. We need to talk.”

“Yes, Otouto?” Hashirama reluctantly spoke.

“What have you been doing at the Naka?” 

Hashirama stilled. “I…”

“Hashirama’s been sneaking out?” Touka asked, disbelief in her voice. “Little cousin? Is that true?”

“I just… need to get away from everything. It… I…” Hashirama trailed off, genuine tears gathering in his eyes. “When I go there, I feel like, I can say anything… do anything, without judgment.”

Itama nodded in understanding. Touka’s eyes softened. Tobirama was conflicted. He felt his brother was lying. But he needed proof. But… if he got proof his brother was doing something else… Tobirama rubbed at his neck.

“I told father I accidentally made a garden there while I was training,” Tobirama muttered. “He’ll think that’s where you go visit. I’ll go create a garden where I normally feel your chakra signature whenever you sneak off. Please don’t go to the Naka until I tell you that the garden is finished.”

Hashirama’s eyes watered and he tackled Tobirama into a hug. “Thank you, otouto. Thank you.”

Itama kneeled on the ground to hug the both of his elder brothers, Touka leaning across everyone to create a dog pile. 

‘Surely,’ Tobirama thinks. ‘Should the Pure Land truly exist, Kawarama would be watching over us.’

Tobirama closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the moment.