Kindling

Mito had learned to hate Butsuma Senju. She didn’t hate the Senju as a whole, not really, she didn’t even really hate Hashirama or Tobirama Senju, but she hated Butsuma; how could she not when she remembered the look on her mother’s face when the Uzumaki were forced to bow, not when she remembered her brother’s voice when Mito was taken away to the Senju compound in chains to be a vassal (slave). Life here had done little to reduce her hatred, not when she saw the situation of every clan that fought against them, not when she saw the ache in Inuzuka’s faces as they saw their dogs in choke chains, not when the entirety of Fire Country seemed to have been brought to heal. Even the Uchiha had been chained under seals that locked away all but the thinnest trickle of chakra and seals on their foreheads that had shut off their Sharingan not matter what they saw, all she could be grateful for was that only a handful of Uzumaki had been forced into servitude with her and that there was rather less physical abuse than she would have expected (truthfully they were probably lucky, they were servants and considered lesser- expected to serve at the Senju and their allies’ beck and call- and some were expected to fight for them, but it could be much worse).

Madara was learning patience. It was… hard for him, but he was smart enough to know that the only way his clan was going to get out of this was by playing the long game and being careful until they knew enough to kill Butsuma and get the fuck out, he just had to make Izuna understand that. His little brother needed to learn to keep his head down and not loose his temper every time someone said something demeaning or he saw Tobirama; losing his temper would only lead to him getting whipped, something Izuna had only barely avoided so far (well, most avoided, he had gotten hit pretty hard but never tied to a whipping post and Madara was counting that as a win) and only because for some reason (Hashirama?) over half the Senju were willing to turn a blind eye to most of the mouthing off and he hadn’t yet said something idiotic without them around. Madara was so fucking lucky that Hashirama was still in some way the boy he had spent so much time with at the river, and so lucky that so many of the Senju seemed willing to listen to the words of the clan Heir; he may have seen very little of the man he had once called friend, but he knew that the body count on the Uchiha when they were defeated was so low only because Hashirama must have convinced his father to keep it that way, he knew that the fact that they weren’t treated worse must be Hashirama’s doing, must be his plan. After all, who else would care what happened to them?

Hashirama learned regret when he was eleven and his foolishness almost cost him his brother. It was idiotic what he did, turning on Tobirama in anger as soon as the were back at the compound, unable to think past his betrayal and disappointment as he yelled at his brother, “Why did you do that?! Why did you tell Father? Always have to be a ‘good little soldier’ and go running to Father as soon as I have something I care about. Doesn’t matter that I liked spending time with him! That talking to him made me happy, no you have to be a good boy and tell on me as soon as you can.” Tobirama had recoiled from him, a look of confusion on his small face “What? I- what are you talking about aniji?” he sounded so stupidly like he didn’t understand and all that Hashirama could think about was that the one person that seemed to understand him was now an enemy. “You know what I’m talking about traitor!” he hissed and Tobirama’s red eyes look almost wet and off balance when he responded “But I- I didn’t tell Father, you- you’ve been meeting with him for months, of course I knew who he was, it’s in his chakra and that’s hard to miss, but Father- commanded me and Izuna followed him and I didn’t want you to get hurt by the other Uchiha.”

Hashirama was too shocked to know how to respond to that, and he didn’t even get a chance to; father had still been in earshot, Hashirama hadn’t checked to make sure he was far enough away and Tobirama was too surprised to notice, so Butsuma heard, he heard and his anger was volcanic. One moment he was ahead of them on the path the next he was in front of Tobirama fury on his face as he looked at his youngest, “You knew?! You knew that he was meeting with the Uchiha spawn for months and you didn’t tell me? You lied to me about your range?! You betrayed me?!” spittle flew from his mouth as he shouted and he never gave Tobirama a chance to respond, backhanding the small boy hard enough to throw him sharply to the ground, bouncing off the path as he hit with a tiny breath of pain. And as Hashirama watched his Father, mad with rage, shouted at his (tiny) brother and kicked him once sharply in the side, and Tobirama- Tobirama whimpered only the finest sound as he dragged himself to his feet, staggering slightly as he tried to stand up straight; but there wasn’t surprise on his face, not really. A little startlement, but none of the shock that there should have been, and Hashirama realized abruptly how much time he spent away from his brother, how often had Tobirama been training with Father while Hashirama played with Madara? Why wasn’t Tobirama surprised?

Butsuma grabbed his younger son by his white hair and vanished into the main house and Hashirama, frozen with shock (he never ever forgave himself for that), watched and did nothing. He didn’t see his little brother for six months.