Kindling

Ayumu Hatake  leaned over his dark haired lover, brushing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth as the white haired man reached to tie his hair back with one hand, the long strands almost brushing his sleeping lover and running the risk of waking him. Ayumu regretted this, regretted it deeply, but there was no other way to do things, no other solution that Ayumu could think of and the betrayal was inevitable no matter how much he wished otherwise. It was for the best, the information that he was bringing back was what could stop this insane war and save so many people, save his brother, save his lover’s remaining brothers, but that didn’t make it easy to brake the heart of the man he loved.

“Sleep Madara” he whispered, brushing a kiss over one dark eyebrow; it was time to go. Lingering would do nothing but put them both at risk.

With a deep sigh Ayumu slid off the bed and then out the window, cracked to let a cool breeze in just as Ayumu had requested last night before pouncing on General Uchiha and wearing the other man out enough that he wouldn’t notice Ayumu leaving. The guards were easy to slip past, they had never met someone as fast as Ayumu and weren’t expecting it and so the slender man was out of the imperial palace and city and into the dark woods long before there was any light on the horizon. Once there he found a small spring and ducked his head, raising a short blade to cut off most of his waist length white hair, lighting it on fire so as to leave no trace even as the soft breeze brushed strands of his much shorter hair against his cheek; the rest was easy even if it ached to wash away Ayumu’s dark skin color (a special concoction to restore his own white skin even from they dye he had used which had stood up to even water and sex) and slide the dark contacts from his eyes dumping them into the water – he wouldn’t need to use them anymore.

Short white hair, too pale skin, pale red eyes, Tobirama Senju looked back at him out of the water as the slender man retrieved a small pot of scarlet paint from his sealing scroll and carefully painted on the red marks on his cheek and chin that he had worn for so long he was almost unrecognizable without them. It was time to finish this, the Hyuuga were waiting his report and he had been gone almost three months – maybe he would see his brother if Hashirama hadn’t done something to endanger himself (he didn’t seem to understand that his status as conscientious objector was riding a thin line, didn’t understand what it meant to Tobirama to keep his brother safe – all he cared about was his refusal to be  weapon in this war, especially if it meant fighting Uchiha who were only enemies by way of the Emperor’s orders).

Tobirama blew out a slow breath. It was time to go back to being a weapon, a tool to help the Hyuuga led resistance bring down the Emperor, he had had a chance to be a person to be cared about and valued for more than his kill count, that would have to be enough.