Tobirama was born a very bright child. His young mind developed far quicker than his peers- although more out of necessity than choice- he had not been allowed to hang around the other clan children, however, his brother would always say that he is the smartest person he knows.
And Hashirama knows everyone.
There were many things he didn’t understand at the ripe age of five, like the reason his clan head doesn’t like him. His mother always assures him that he did nothing wrong, but his mother also gave Hashirama his ugly haircut so he doesn’t quite trust her words.
Another thing Tobirama didn’t understand was gods. His mother would pray into his ears every night, begging the gods to keep him safe. The child being as religious as any other five year old would merely roll his eyes and allow it without complaint.
He’d assumed it was one of those things that everyone says he’ll understand when he’s older.
The night before his sixth birthday, Tobirama had been training with hashirama. His older brother was talking with record speed as he tried to tell him everything the forest plants had ‘told him’. Ever since he’d discovered his new abilities he’d been attempting to learn everything about nature, tobirama swore one day the man will wake up and turn into a tree.
He thinks he’d be a nice pine tree.
His hair tickled the back of his neck as he tried to focus her chakra. Although he hated brushing it he loved the way the white strands look, hashirama had mentioned that it made him look like a prince.
He smiled as he thought about braiding it for tomorrow, perhaps he’d let hashirama do it in the morning. Although not many senju have long hair, it was a sign of peace. His aunt had told him when he’d asked, fingers brushing against her own short strands barely reaching below her ears.
An excited shout from his side reminded him that hashirama was still trying to explain the joke he’d heard the lemon tree whisper.
He woke up on his sixth birthday in a room not his own. His fight or flight instinct kicked in and he bit down on the hand holding him down, eyes struggling to take in their surroundings in the predawn light.
Tobirama couldn’t tell where he was, but he tried her best to free himself of the hands holding him. He just needed an opening to yell, his brother would come and save him if he knew he was hurt.
“Tobirama, Stop your struggling you brat!”
The commanding voice stopped him in his tracks. He’d recognize that voice anywhere. Tobirama raised his head to meet the eyes of the man he just bit, Butsuma. The senju clan head.
confusion must’ve shown on his face because he spoke again, “we have taken you to a healer, so calm down. This will be over in a bit and you will be fixed,”
Alarm bells were going off in the child’s head. At the mention of other people he looked around, just now noticing the 5 shinobi around them. He could tell that they were in some sort of temple, the smell of perfumes and candles assaulting his nose.
His eye twitched. He didn’t know what was going on, and was frankly terrified, this was his clan head, however, so he gave a shaky nod.
The man visibly relaxed, he stepped back, letting another man take his place at his side. Tobirama didn’t think there was anything wrong with him. He did occasionally suffer sun burns after playing out with hashirama but this seemed a little extreme for that.
The man had a glass filled with what smelled like ink in his left arm, the other had a needle. It was the length of Tobirama’s hand, the candle light making it shine in a way that had him shaking.
A hand landed on his wrists, another held his feet. The six year old let out a whimper as the needle neared his face, “Divine Mother of All there is, whose essence Lies within us all and in all things. Please fill this place with your sacred light and presence,” Tobirama did not scream when the needle first touched his skin. His mouth fell open, eyes widening as the shock turned into pain than into terror.
“We drive this abomination from us, whatever it may be, unclean spirits, all infernal invaders, all wicked legions,-“ he was cut off as a scream tore itself out of the child’s throat, arms trying to thrash out of the hands holding them down.
And yet they continued, words going over his head as the pain overtook his sense, “-in the Name and by the sage may you be driven from this nature and from the souls carrying your will-“ red eyes met those of their father’s. Tobirama’s tears mixed with the ink as it dripped down his cheeks. His father- his clan head had a stern look on his face.
He looked at him as one does to an enemy.
When the ink dries in the morning, they will wrap his face in white bandages, and batsuma will give him a smile. It is a small, vile thing. And tobirama hates the way his heart aches at seeing it.
Once he’s more oriented he’ll notice the crude haircut he’d been given in order for the ‘ritual’ to be conducted, he will mourn it in silence, tears wiped off quickly as they hurt the newly tattooed cheeks.
His mother stops praying for him after that.
Tobirama was not in the compound when it happened.
His mission had taken him two weeks to accomplish. He was just setting to get back to the clan when he felt it. His brother’s chakra.
It was the first thing he taught Itama when he unlocked it, how to flare his chakra when in trouble, a signal He’d follow to save his little brother.
Tobirama runs.
Small legs ache as he pours chakra into them, panic spreading through him. Itama feels hurt, although he can’t sense the people around him he’s seen enough of the child killing squads to know the danger he could be in.
Oh god he wasn’t going to make it-
Itama is not supposed to go on any missions till he comes back, his father had sworn he'd wait till the boy was older. and yet he could feel him, near the Uchiha borders, injured, and so so scared.
The last time he’d seen him was after Kawarama had-
Another flare of chakra and Tobirama's breath hitches, his focus falters and he tumbles, rolling head first into the dirt. The pain doesn’t register as he realizes with horrifying clarity what that last flare meant.
After all, it was Itama’s idea to make a sign for when it is too late to save someone.
He was too slow. A scream filled the clearing, scaring the forest animals. Tobirama screamed till his voice turned hoarse.
The thing about chakra, Tobirama learned, was that it did not go down quietly. Itama’s- gentlecoolkind -chakra spread around him, looking for something to hold onto, and for a moment he could feel it settle into the trees, the earth, and the men around him.
He could feel the outline of his brother’s killers covered in his chakra.
Tobirama retches his stomach’s contents.
On the edge of his senses he registered hashirama reaching Itama’s now cold corpse, and he prays that it is not as ugly of a sight as he felt it become.
a selfish part of him hopes it is, hopes Hashirama hurts just as bad as he does, why couldn’t he have been there earlier-
He pushes that monster down, looks with blurry eyes around at the mess his crash had caused.
“If you keep talking like that you’ll end up dead,” his stomach twisted at the reminder of the words he’d told Itama, another scream threatening to crawl out. He smothered it down, pulling out a kunai instead.
His hair had grown since the ‘ritual’, reaching to his mid-back when he brushed it. He’d grown it out with Hashirama’s dreams, allowing it to infect him with a false hope of peace.
Itama deserved better than that.
That day Tobirama took a detour before going back to the Senju compound. tracking the traces of his brother’s chakra to the squad of men celebrating the death of another Senju. They did not stand a chance against his blade.
A strand of silver hair was left at their bodies, a warning, and an explanation.
And the white demon was born.
In a month, his father is going to order him to spy on his brother. And Tobirama will watch as his brother cuts his hair for the first time ever, not in a declare of war against the Uchiha.
But against his father, and to a certain degree, himself. The sight of the short brown strands hurt like an infected wound.
Blood dripped onto the forest ground, seeping into the muddy earth below Tobirama. A curse left his lips as he wrapped a cloth around his bleeding shoulder. His mission in Uzushiogakure had gone perfectly, their sister clan paying him handsomely for aiding them with their most recent sea creature.
It was on the way back when he was caught in an ambush. The 14 year old had been too exhausted to notice that the travelers behind him were shinobi.
On the positive side, he’d ended up getting rid of the bandits that have been causing his clan problems for the past few months.
Although, he might bleed out before getting back. A shiver made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. Or freeze to death.
His body tensed up as he felt an unmistakable chakra.
Uchiha.
In a blink of an eye he jumped into one of the surrounding trees, hiding his own chakra as he tried to think of an escape plan. With his current injuries he cannot afford to fight, but he can outrun them if it’s one patrol.
However, the chakra signatures that were right next to him were not coming his way, in fact-
His eyes widened. They were children, three of them with unmature chakra.
Tobirama let out a sigh in relief. He could sense that most of them do not have the sharingan, likely under the age of seven. It was a miracle they'd been allowed to leave the uchiha compound at all.
Uchiha cared a lot for their kids for a clan that is known for child killings.
An image of too small graves came to Tobirama’s mind. The dirt on Itama’s was still fresh the last time he’d seen it.
Alas Tobirama was not in the habit of hunting children down, so he turned to the direction of the Senju compound and prepared himself for the pain of running when he felt it.
Shinobi, not from around here by their foreign chakra. They were chasing the group of children, from the looks of it they’ve caught two already, the small chakra flaring with urgency.
Bloodline thieves.
Tobirama focused a bit further, trying to find any Uchiha patrols that could reach the children.
The forest was empty, and tobirama was reminded that this time of the year only the suicidal would go out in this weather.
An insane thought occurred to him. These children must be terrified, everyone knows the fate of those caught by these thieves. Best case scenario you lose an eye.
Most victims are not lucky enough to only lose both.
He could save them. A better man would rush in and at least try to get some of them away. They were so close it would take him less than a minute to reach.
Hashirama certainly would.
But Tobirama is not a good man, he’s barely human as is.
It would be treason to do so anyways, so he turns away and starts running, ignoring the chakra calling out just on the edge of his vision.
A scream rips through the forest.
Tobirama blinks, and finds himself facing a man, his sword lodged deep into his chest.
“Ah,” he mumbles. He’s done it now.
With quick precision he reaches out with his senses, feeling around for the men as he tries to take them out before they got out of their shock.
There were 10 men, 9 now. None of them seemed injured, three of them were carrying children. Their chakra was barely above average, Tobirama just needed to distract them long enough for the kids to “run!”
That seemed to snap everyone out of their shock. The scream that had brought him here had come from behind him, where a young boy- the youngest by the looks of it- was laying on the ground, hands held up to protect his face.
“The white demon?” A voice from his left, it turned from cautious to amused as he spoke, “if you wanted to take it out on the kids you could’ve told us, no need for violence.”
“As long as you keep their eyes safe, of course.”
His stomach dropped, and it took him significant effort to hold back from throwing up at the thought. Five small corpses wearing the face of his brothers. Their eyes ripped out.
“Of course,” he said, and tore through the men. Tobirama went after the ones carrying the children, making sure to pull them back before cutting their vitals.
By then the others had realized that he was not going to help them and they rushed to take him out. A kunai lodged itself into his side as he freed the last kid, throwing him not too gently at his clan mates.
He stepped back, keeping his back to the children as he spoke, “Go north and don’t stop running till you reach the compound, understood?”
They stared at him with wide terrified eyes.
“Do you understand?!” He yelled, holding back the man who'd tried to convince him to join them.
A collective nod came from the children and they scrambled, holding onto each other like a lifeline as they ran. Tobirama gave a bloody grin as the five men cursed and tried to take off after them.
As long as he had given them a shove into the right direction. The uchiha had probably already noticed them and will meet them halfway. Tobirama just needed to stay alive now.
Which in retrospect might be harder than he’d thought.
The fight after that was embarrassingly quick. The thieves, enraged with losing their merchandise, attacked with all that they had. Tobirama, having lost a third of his blood, found himself laying face first on the ground.
There were only three men left. Tobirama’s blurry eyes saw them as six and grinned. He could hear the trees rustling with the wind and imagined it was Hashirama grinning with him.
If he dies here at least he would not be alone.
“He’s fucking insane.”
“Just kill him, the Uchiha are on their way.”
A hand gripped his hair, pulling it enough to force his eyes to meet those of their leader.
The man’s eyes widened as he stared into his own red ones. A maniac grin growing on his bloody face, “I think we should take his eyes as compensation, what do you think, demon?”
“An eye for an eye?”
Tobirama thought that was an ass idea. Instead of telling them that of course the fourteen year old spat in his face, red spit landed on his eye.
The slap afterwards was expected. It still hurts like a bitch.
A rustle in the trees a few feet away from them put everyone on edge. The other two men panicked as they realized how close the uchiha would be by now.
After all, death is a mercy to those that steal bloodlines.
And uchiha were not known to be merciful.
The man above him growled in frustration at not having been able to take his time humiliating him. Choosing instead to pull out his sword and cut the hair Tobirama had spent the last few months growing.
Tobirama felt his throat clog at the loss of it. The Uzumaki princess had been spending his time with them following him around. She’d insisted he grows it a little so she can braid it, saying it was good practice for his future nieces.
The man looked at it with a smirk, as if looking at a trophy. “Come on,” he ushered the others, “Let the Uchiha take care of this scum.”
And with that they were gone. Leaving behind Tobirama’s chakra exhausted body. The blood loss, and exhaustion rendered him unable to move, even his sensing was rendered blind as he tried to figure out the time between now and when the uchiha would arrive.
Not that it mattered much. If he’s lucky he’d bleed out before they kill him themselves.
A rustle in the grass forced him to look up, only to gasp.
One of the Uchiha children had come back, or more accurately had never left. “What are you doing?” His voice barely came out. And when it did it felt like sandpaper crawling out.
The child had a scared but determined look on his face, “I…you saved us. How can I help you?”
A snort escaped him. The kid looked offended at that, but there was nothing to do. Tobirama was going to bleed out and die, unless Hashirama pops out of a tree to heal him.
“Just go back to your clan, kid. Unless you’re a really short healer.”
The boy seemed heartbroken at the thought of leaving Tobirama to die. Tobirama could not imagine facing him on the battlefield in a few years. Maybe this was for the best.
“Well no…maybe these guys have medicine?” He pointed to one of the dead bodies lying around. Tobirama’ eyes widened, “ok kid, I need you to look for some kind of pills, they’re really big like candy!”
Hope bloomed in his chest. If he could manage a few soldier pills he can run back to the clan compound. The boy started looking, the first man turned empty, but the second had a bag of them.
“I found them!!” He cheered, running over to tobirama and nearly toppling over him. Tobirama chewed on the one he was handed and prayed it wasn’t poison.
The moment he swallowed it chakra flooded his pathways. “Thank you,” he gave the boy a pat on the head as he stood up, purely moving his limbs through the chakra boost he’d gotten.
He could sense a group of Uchihas a few minutes away. Tobirama rushed the other way, ignoring the child sitting where he left him as he would soon be in the arms of his clan.
Tobirama just prays this doesn’t come back to bite him in the ass.
He is sixteen and karma is a bitch.
Tobirama walks with steady steps towards his father’s office. They’d just gotten news that Tajime had passed away, and the clan had never celebrated like this before.
Butsuma had gotten a few guests half way through the celebration, barely giving Tobirama an order to follow in a few hours before he was rushing to meet them. Oddly enough, Tobirama could not recognize their chakra.
It was foreign, yet in the back of his mind a voice nagged at him to remember.
“Father,” he knocked politely before entering, only to freeze at the doorstep.
There, sitting next to his father is the man who’d held a knife to his throat two years ago. He looked nearly the same too. If it wasn’t for the silver strand of hair braided into his black ones.
Tobirama could not breath.
Butsuma was grinning. It reminded him of the smile he’d given him when he’d turned six, and the marks on his face ached like an amputated limb.
“Tobirama, these shinobi have brought to me quiet the shocking information”
Ice crept along his veins as he put on a mask of calmness, “these shinobi are bloodline thieves.”
He left it at that. Butsuma must know that if the other clans hear about this they will be ostracized at best, slain at worst.
Even the Uzumaki would denounce them.
Both men shared a laugh, as if he’d told a joke. Tobirama carefully flared his chakra enough to alert Hashirama that something was wrong but not enough for him to intervene yet.
“And you are a traitor to the clan,” said the thief. As if that was worse than the act of breeding children for the sake of money. As if that puts them on the same scale.
Butsuma nodded, “However, you are still valuable. Even if you’ve made a mistake.”
A mistake. So that’s what they’re calling it now.
“Since it is a celebration today I’m willing to give you a chance to redeem yourself.”
Tobirama felt dread in the pit of his stomach. His eyes trailing to those of the other man in the room, his gaze was fixated on him, a predator looking down on its prey. Butsuma took his silence for acceptance and continued.
“I’m going to collect the best of our men to fight the Uchiha tomorrow, you on the other hand will be accompanying these shinobi in infiltrating their compound while they’re distracted.”
This was-
It was a brilliant plan. The uchiha, already weakened with the loss of their leader, would not notice them. Especially with his sensing abilities.
It would be a massacre. A feast for the bloodline thieves.
Small graves came to his mind. A child, bravely asking the white demon how to save him. He moved before he’d felt himself do so.
Tobirama felt warm blood splatter on his face as he cut through the disgusting excuse of a man. His kunai pressed against his father’s throat before either of them could blink.
He could feel Hashirama running towards them.
“Have you lost your mind-“ “have you?!” He yelled. Anger threatened to drown him. And he was too tired to push it down. Tobirama had held this clan on his back like a dog, loyal to the bone. He would lay his own life down if it was right for the clan.
This? This was wrong.
Too small graves, a child screaming. Perhaps Tobirama had lost his mind.
But he was only as insane as Butsuma wanted him to be.
The cut was clean. A thin line was enough to render the man who’d made a home in his nightmares into a corpse. Hashirama walked into the sight of the body falling to the ground.
Tobirama held his breath. A million thoughts going through his head.
Hashirama breathed in a sigh of relief, “you're okay.” He whispered. As if the two bodies were not cooling down next to them. Tobirama had wanted to spare his brother from watching their father’s death.
Perhaps he was wrong to do so after all.
Hashirama finally seemed to notice the other body on the floor. He raised an eyebrow in a silent question, “he’s a bloodline thief father wanted to help.”
He did not need to say anything more. After all, Hashirama was the one to heal him after he’d escaped their grasp the last time. His brother nodded, and with a hand sign the floor boards seemed to gain life and drag the body beneath them.
Leaving nothing behind but a silver braid that Hashirama picked off the floor, “I believe this is yours,” he said, smile unwavering as his voice trembled. Tobirama hesitated to take it.
His eyes met those of his brother’s . Hashirama looked so hopeful it hurt.
Tobirama, covered in his father’s blood, found himself feeling the same. With trembling hands he accepted the braid, noting the crimson staining its strands.