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Shisui tries to breathe but the air gets lodged in his throat and he coughs, throat burning.
His vision blurs and his legs tremble. Everything hurts until it’s just a mess of pain and aching and stinging and he’s not sure what’s supposed to be hurting the most.
His eye - eye socket - bleeds sluggishly because his eye is gone. He lost it. He messed up. His eye - his Mangekyo Sharingan because he is an idiot.
There’s no way he can stop the coup now as drained and poisoned as he is. Danzou’s men are still after him, his other eye specifically, and they’ll catch up. Shisui can barely walk, barely can get his legs under him enough to even crawl.
Something has got to give eventually and Shisui can barely walk, barely see, barely breathe. Something has to give and it’s going to be him.
He stumbles over a root and his legs give out. His knees dig harshly into the uneven ground and his stomach riots.
Shisui only just manages to lean forward enough to not throw up all over himself. The vomit is hot and his already parched throat feels like it’s burning, burning, burning like a raging acidic fire.
The taste lingers and Shisui can’t get enough coordination in his tongue, that sits in his mouth like it’s swollen, to even spit. Bile dribbles down his chin and there’s nothing Shisui can do make this any less humiliating.
Shisui manages a step, then another.
His vision blurs again and all Shisui can see is white. His head pounds against his skull and Shisui distantly wonders if it’s trying to escape.
His hands blindly search for a hold, eventually finding familiar bark of Fire Country trees. His hands shake and don’t stop shaking. His grip on the tree weakens and he barely feels himself hit the ground.
He can’t go to Itachi. There’s no way he’s leading Danzou, eye-stealing Danzou, to his cousin.
He can’t go the Uchiha with the coup on the brink of happening. The already fragile situation could get blown out of the water if one of the Uchiha’s strongest stumbled in, missing an eye and claiming Danzou was the one who did it.
He can’t go the Sandaime, Shisui’s sure that won’t help. Shisui has nothing but respect for the Sandaime, but he never tried to stop Danzou before and Shisui doubts he’d do anything to stop him now.
He has no allies in the noble clans either.
Even if he had someone to go to, he’s left it too late now. He can’t move except for the involuntary tremors wracking his frame.
Shisui should have removed his eye earlier and given it to Itachi or destroyed it even. But he’s an idiot and now he can’t because each breath is more distorted than the last and his vision swims, white turning into black splotches and disjointed colours of his surroundings.
He’s going to die here. The chakra exhaustion and poison eating away slowly at his life force until there will be nothing left.
Danzou and his soldiers will find him, and then Danzou will have both of Shisui’s eyes.
Shisui will die a useless death. Itachi will be left alone to deal with a clan on the brink of igniting a civil war and a power-hungry war hawk set on protecting the village by taking it to the extremes that it should never go.
Shisui’s always wanted what’s best for the Uchiha and what’s best for Konoha. He’s always prioritised that above everything else, even his own personal wants.
And all that has been for nothing because he failed. Danzou with Kotoamatsukami will spell nothing but bad news even if Danzou uses it in the way that he feels is helping. It will only end in the Uchiha suffering and there is nothing he can do about it.
Shisui failed Itachi, Sasuke, failed the village, the Sandaime, the Uchiha and himself.
It should have been well in Shisui’s expectations that Danzou would try to steal Shisui’s eye but instead, he gave Danzou the benefit of the doubt, he trusted him as a fellow shinobi of Konoha and now he must suffer for it.
And now, Shisui is dying.
The next breath is far too shallow and he can’t get anything in his lungs and he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe because he’s dying.
Something hot and wet slides down the left side of his face but he doesn’t have the energy or the coordination to wipe it.
He coughs and feels what is probably blood mixed with bile dribble out of his mouth.
More hot wet liquid slides from his eye and as Shisui feels himself fading away, he realises he’s crying.
The shinobi is too pale, too cold, breathing too shallow.
Tobirama shifts him into his arms and tries to ignore the irrational voice that’s telling him to hurry and save him.
The Uchiha crest is printed boldly on his clothing but he’s not an Uchiha that Tobirama has seen before. He deviates from the Uchiha norm quite a bit. He hasn’t seen many curly haired Uchiha’s before.
There’s blood sluggishly dripping out of the shinobi’s empty eye socket. In any other circumstance, Tobirama would have left the Uchiha to die. They’d only have to face each other in battle later on. He might have given the shinobi the mercy cut because Tobirama isn’t a heartless bastard regardless of what people say.
But the Uchiha’s eye is missing.
Even the Senju draw the line at stealing an Uchiha’s eye. It’s not worth the wrath that the Uchiha would bring over it and its one of the few unspoken rules that they’ve managed to keep despite been at war. Of course, there are always exceptions and Tobirama has seen a Senju tear out an Uchiha’s eyes before to help them win - but the Senju don’t keep them.
There aren’t any other clans in this area and Tobirama can’t sense anyone for miles.
There had clearly been a fight if the blood, bruises and general injuries say anything but there isn’t a sign of a fight in the surrounding area. Maybe this Uchiha managed to get away before whoever his attacker was managed to take his other eye.
Not to mention the Uchiha don’t leave their kin to die alone.
Tobirama may be an enemy of the Uchiha but he can respect that. Kin is important - more important than anything.
So this could mean that the Uchiha don’t know of this shinobi’s predicament.
Tobirama lifts the shinobi’s upper body and takes another look at the Uchiha crest.
It’s worn, dirty and torn. Faded.
There have been no battles involving the Uchiha lately, maybe this one is a rouge? Not all that unlikely as it might seem, in a time of constant warfare like this, it’s very possible.
The Uchiha’s chakra is a shivering, weak mess compared to what he can tell it’s supposed to be. Tobirama, under all other circumstances would kill this Uchiha, but there’s a feeling that’s telling him to help, to save him.
Under all normal circumstances, Tobirama would ignore those instincts, call it down to him being incredibly tired of all the useless violence from a long day dealing with his father.
But Tobirama thinks of Hashirama’s dream, his ideology that is so hard to come by and he has to try.
This Uchiha might help them - and that’s a far-fetched ridiculous plan if he’s ever heard one but Hashirama’s goal has come to a standstill. To do anything, Hashirama needs to become clan head and as long as Butsuma is alive, none of that can happen.
Tobirama wants Hashirama’s goal to become true, wants it more than anything but he’s not Hashirama. He’s not as amazing as his big brother.
And if this Uchiha refuses to help, Tobirama isn’t afraid of turning his stay into a much less pleasant one.
Tobirama is not his brother. He’s not afraid to stoop that low.
He presses his hand against the shinobi’s forehead and lets his chakra flow from his arm into the shinobi. He trickles it in as carefully as he can, not wanting to send the shinobi straight into shock.
A strange part of Tobirama - a side that he’s buried deep down hopes that this shinobi will help them in his brother’s ridiculous plan that no sane person would follow.
No matter what other people say, no matter what other people think of him, that he’s ruthless and cold and distant… Tobirama is tired. And he over it. He’s over the fighting the blood, the death, the nightmares and trying to hold himself together.
He’ll still fight. No one needs to know of Tobirama’s true feelings as they don’t matter to anyone really beyond Hashirama.
But, this Uchiha is different. He’s not sure what that means yet, and Tobirama’s never liked taking stupid chances but just this once, he will.
The shinobi shuffles in Tobirama’s hold and he cuts off the flow of chakra. It should hold him for now.
There’s an old shack, not all too far from the village that Tobirama can leave him in. He can’t bring him into the Senju, Butsuma will not hesitate a moment to execute the Uchiha as publicly, proudly and brutally as he deems fit.
There is something about this shinobi, something about his chakra, the energy that Tobirama can feel that reminds him of his brother and he’s never felt that from anyone else. He can’t let Butsuma find out just yet.
It’s not the first time he's lied to his father, and he’s sure as hell not going to lose any sleep over another one, but if he leaves this shinobi, he’ll spend the rest of his life wondering what if. And Tobirama wants this fighting to end more than anything.
He’ll follow this strange instinct this time. Never again, but this time he’ll make an exception.
Tobirama is just about to stand up when the shinobi stirs. He curses quietly to himself, he has no idea what the last thing he remembers is and staring up at Senju would give any Uchiha a heart attack, especially been as defenceless as he is now.
There’s really not much Tobirama can do so he loosens his grip around him and forces his face into something not so fierce.
One eye and one empty socket gaze up at him, unseeing but after a few moments something in the shinobi’s gaze clears up and he blinks up at Tobirama.
Tobirama carefully reaches up to the shinobi’s face and closes the empty eye socket, being careful to be slow and deliberate with his movements.
“You’ll get dirt in it,” he says quietly.
Slow realisation dawns across the Uchiha’s face and Tobirama feels his panic before he sees it - the little chakra he has writhes in protest and his breathing immediately divulges into short useless breaths.
Tobirama lowers him to the ground as carefully as he can and tries to shove away the cold anger that’s always there, waiting to erupt into a rage he can’t control.
All this pain, and for what? Tobirama doesn’t really know. And he doubts Butsuma does either.
Tobirama raises his hands and takes a step back, still remaining crouched. He’s had too much time to think about what’s wrong with everything and he hates it.
Hates that he has to hate people who he’s never met. Hates that this shinobi has to be so terrified of him for no other reason than the clan symbol on his armour.
“I mean no harm,” Tobirama says and it’s true as it can be in this age. He won’t hurt this shinobi. At least not while he has no reason too.
The Uchiha looks at him and squeezes his eye shut while he tries to get his breathing under control. He lets him try for a few moments and then leans forward with glowing hands ready to help. He opens his mouth but another voice interrupts him.
“Th’ts what ev’ryone says.” the words slur and fall off at the end, clearly meaning to say more but Tobirama finds himself pausing anyway.
Butsuma had been in a particularly foul mood and Tobirama had been yelled at and ridiculed the entire day. Not good enough, not strong enough, never enough.
His mother used to say things like she would never hurt them, everything would be alright, it’s okay. But then she died. Then Kawarama died. Then Itama died. And Tobirama learned that people said a lot of things, but rarely did they mean them.
Clearly, this shinobi had not escaped this experience either. The anger - often icicles waiting for the spark of ignition to turn it boiling - was still there crackling beneath the surface. A bad day that’s led to Tobirama taking sympathy on an injured Uchiha.
An Uchiha that has that same look of determination and hope in his eyes as Hashirama, although tainted with much more sorrow.
An Uchiha left to die in no man’s land with a missing Sharingan and brutal injuries.
A rueful smile spreads across the shinobi’s face, but it doesn’t hide his pain.
On any other day, when Tobirama wasn’t hating the world quite as much, with any other shinobi, not one that reminds Tobirama of his brother so, so, much. One that wasn’t left to die, Tobirama would have kept walking. He wouldn’t have stopped.
But as fate had it, it seemed that it was meant to be.
There is no feasible way Shisui should be alive.
The poison was killing him and he couldn’t move. Danzou and his men would have found him quickly enough and finished him off if the poison didn’t first.
But, Shisui looks down at himself, bandages covering his arms, chest and parts of his legs and he lifts an uncoordinated hand to his heavily bandaged head, he’s definitely alive.
And not in the right place.
There’s voices just outside the little one-room shelter. Technically, Shisui knows that the voices belong to Tobirama and Hashirama.
On some level, he knows that. But that also means he’s in the wrong place. His in the days of pre-Konoha. His grandfather, Kagami Uchiha, doesn’t even exist yet. Hashirama - the god of shinobi is still in a teenager and the second Hokage is his age.
Shisui is back in time.
He’s sure he died.
He knows how it feels to lose consciousness, the life of a shinobi has supplied him with enough examples, and that wasn’t it. He knew when he closed his eyes, he wouldn’t be opening them again.
He died, but he’s pretty sure this isn’t the afterlife. Shisui has time travelled.
The last few days have seen him barely conscious and feverish. Shisui had thought Tobirama and Hashirama were a very weird product of fever delirium. But the last time he woke, the most lucid he’s been since he ‘died’, with Tobirama looming over him and wiping his forehead with a wet cloth, he realised he was very much alive.
Shisui died. But he’s been given another chance, as strange as it is.
He’s not sure what the brothers want with him. If they wanted information, he’s sure there would be restraints. Shisui’s still weak to stand up, even sitting up is taking its toll - his muscles weak and still so shaky - so, maybe they just went without.
Still, Shisui is an Uchiha in the middle of the Warring States era. Shisui is an Uchiha in Senju company.
Shisui has been given another chance, but if he doesn’t get out of here, he’s going to die again.
Shisui runs his hand down his leg and curses to himself. Shisui’s injuries are still present, the poison is gone but he feels shaky and weak and flimsy, as though if someone touched him too hard he’d break.
His eye is still missing and now there’s no chance of getting it back. His missing eye is stuck in another timeline.
His whole head aches distantly, a reminder of what’s at stake. His clan, Konoha, everything Shisui loved.
He needs to get out of here.
There’s no way that the Senju are going to treat him with anything like kindness. Shisui is an Uchiha, their enemy.
The door gets thrown open, banging on the wall and Shisui flinches, his muscles scream at the abuse and he curls himself forward, instinctively protecting himself.
He isn’t sure if he wants to look up. Hashirama and Tobirama are heroes, but in this life, Shisui can only find fear.
His hands shake and he presses his face against his bent up knees. They’ll want information that Shisui can’t give because he doesn’t know and they’re going to kill him and Shisui died once. He’s already died and he’s going to die again because he’s an idiot and he can’t do anything right. He got a second chance, but he’s ruining all of it. Again.
There’s a hand running through his hair and Shisui nails grip into his legs.
Training has trained him for torture, but training never trained him for waking up eighty years in the past with the people he admires about to torture him.
Shisui waits for his head to be yanked back and the questions to begin. He can’t run, he can’t even walk and the lack of restraints make it worse.
The hand persists, gently running through Shisui’s curls and he’s waiting for the violence that won’t come.
A voice joins the hand but there’s no animosity no matter how hard Shisui searches for it.
There’s a hand on his cheek and someone tugs his face towards them with gentle hands.
Hashirama’s face greets him, calm and steady. There’s a sad smile on his face.
Shisui’s heard of torturers using kindness as a weapon - start off kind to earn his trust. Shisui trembles under the touch, his eyes burn and his throat hurts. He wants to cry but he’s a shinobi, he can’t.
But he’s also in a place he doesn’t belong, with people who he’s supposed to serve who are now his enemies and his eye is missing, his whole body a mess.
Hashirama pulls him forward until Shisui’s forehead is pressed against his chest and raises his other hand to rest on his back.
The touch is almost too much but Hashirama patiently rubs his hand across his back, Shisui finds it in him to breath.
The fear doesn’t ebb, and he can’t bring himself to move away because he still doesn’t know what Hashirama wants.
Hashirama, after what seems like an eternity, pulls back and gently eases Shisui back down to the bed.
“We won’t hurt you if you help us,” he says.
Tobirama appears next to the bed, a frown on his face. “My apologies. Your reaction should have been well within my expectations.”
He leans a bit closer, “I saved you,” he says. “Right now, I have no reason to regret this action. I felt something… different about you. So, will you help us?”
Shisui’s brain comes to a confused halt.
Help them with what? There’s no way he’s going to fight the Uchiha. He’ll die again before he let that happen so surely they don’t expect that of him.
Hashirama looks past Shisui, seeing something much grander in his head. “I want peace one day. An Uchiha’s help would be greatly appreciated.”
“I lost my Mangekyo,” Shisui blurts out and wants to slap himself. All of this is impairing his ability to act with rationality.
But no one gets trained for time travel.
His face still aches and a less lucid part of Shisui wants to rip the bandages off, run as far from his place as he can and… and then he’s not sure. He doesn’t want to die again. That feeling of fading away, like everything is falling apart around him is something he never wants to feel again.
But doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to be anywhere, but that doesn’t even make sense.
“I’m a pretty useless asset,” Shisui adds. There’s a note of hysteria in his voice, apparently enough to cause Hashirama to reach out. He places a hand on Shisui’s shoulder. It’s a simple touch, but somehow it’s incredibly calming.
Tobirama looks him in the eye and shrugs. “Do you like the world as it is?”
“Of course not,” he says. The Warring States era was a mess of pointless bloodshed and suffering. Shisui didn’t grow up easy, basically chucked into the Third Shinobi War as soon as he was old enough, but here in this era… kids aren’t kids. Kids are soldiers.
And this era shaped his era, really. And in his time Shisui lost his eye and his life in repayment for his loyalty.
Hashirama hums and grins down at him and Shisui finds himself taken back by the force. “You were right, Tobi!” he says and releases Shisui’s shoulder to ruffle Tobirama’s hair.
Shisui doesn’t know anymore.
Shisui died and Hashirama Senju just hugged him through an embarrassing episode of panic.
Tobirama ignores him and eyes Shisui with a seriousness that Shisui finds easy to match. “We want you to become our ally. Help us make the world a little more bearable. This means you won’t be able to go back to the Uchiha or associate with them without our knowledge.”
He pauses, letting the information sink in. “In return, you’ll have our protection, and you’ll be helping the world become a better place.” he presses his lips together and tilts his head to the side and adds “hopefully.”
Hashirama punches him in the arm and turns sharply back to Shisui. “We will do it,” he says and Shisui finds it hard to believe, even though it’s technicality already happened in his time. In this time though, it’s hard to imagine peace.
“I… I haven’t had much to do with the Uchiha Clan for a long time. Not since my parents were killed when I was younger.” It’s a believable story and the first thing he could think of. He’s got to have some explanation as to why no Uchiha of this time will recognise him.
“I accept your conditions,” Shisui says.
Hashirama smiles, brightly and full of vigour and hope and determination, Shisui finds himself trying to smile back, although he’s not sure how successful it appears.
Tobirama smiles sadly.
This alliance won’t forge trust overnight. Shisui’s still so shaky and weak and he died and time travelled and none of this makes any sense but he’s here.
He’s alive and as much as wants to be and yet doesn’t want to be, he’s alive. He’s got a chance to save his clan.
Who is he to pass up that opportunity, since it is what he died for the first time.
“Now that’s out of the way, do you have a name?” Tobirama asks. Shisui can hear the careful distance he’s trying to keep between them. That fear of getting too close to someone, to start to care in a world that only promises an early death.
“Shisui.”
Hashirama hums to himself. “I’m Hashirama.” He gestures to his brother, “that’s Tobirama.”
Shisui nods. He’s not sure what else to do.
Shisui was ambushed by a smaller clan. He was overwhelmed but managed to destroy the eye that they stole.
Shisui is incredibly intuitive, quiet and yet has a witty sense of humour when he doesn’t look quite so shell-shocked.
Shisui is an Uchiha. Shisui is an Uchiha who lost his Mangekyo. Tobirama can’t help but feel that there is much more to that story than Shisui wants to disclose, but Tobirama has heard stories of Uchiha who lost their Sharingan and they simply begin to fall apart to the point where they often killed themselves.
He doesn’t think Shisui will take that path. There’s a look of determination in his eyes to the point of recklessness. And as long as Shisui is able to keep himself going with this new goal and as long as Tobirama and Hashirama offer their support he should be fine.
But still, Tobirama keeps an eye on him as best he can.
Despite the determination, there’s a deep sadness that Tobirama can feel, which makes sense. This Uchiha awakened his Mangekyo and Tobirama’s never met an Uchiha who had the Mangekyo and was okay.
He doesn’t want to worry about this Uchiha.
He doesn’t want to worry if one day they’ll return to the shack and they’ll find Shisui’s body. Or he’ll be gone.
But he worries anyway.
Hashirama gives him a thoughtful look, clearly seeing through his thoughts. They can’t tell anyone about the mysterious Uchiha. Their father would beat them both senseless and then kill the Uchiha.
Still, Tobirama can’t help but have hope, even if he still tries to ignore it.
No Uchiha have been moving around near the area that Tobirama found him, even days and days after the event. Shisui’s story holds up then, a rouge Uchiha wandering the land, separated from the clan after the death of his parents and never bothered to go back.
Tobirama looks at the map again. He’s already memorised it, knows it like he knows his own name.
Hashirama still looks distressed but their father is far too close minded to realise Hashirama will never excel at this sort of theory work.
The first step of their plan is convoluted and still in-progress, but Hashirama needs to be clan head. And to become clan head he needs to get stronger and Butsuma needs to die.
Tobirama doesn’t like dismissing his father’s life so carelessly, but war is war. And The three of them are going to have to raise hell before they can get what they want.
Next, Hashirama cannot lose his friendship with Madara, even if after all these years it’s not as strong as it was. They can possibly use Shisui to help with that. Previously, Tobirama had considered their relationship troublesome, but he’s accidentally invested himself in his brother’s plan and Tobirama has never been good at giving up.
Tobirama doesn’t hate the Uchiha. Not really. As a Senju he does, because he has too, but to hate all Uchiha is a rather simple-minded view and will not help them in trying to achieve Hashirama’s completely obscene dream that Tobirama is now far too invested in.
Madara will very likely become clan head and then, ideally, the Senju and Uchiha clan heads will have similar goals and be able to work towards a treaty.
Ideally.
Nothing in Tobirama’s life has ever been that simple and he doubts this will turn out anything close to what they intend it to be.
If something is not set on fire by the time they’re done, Tobirama is fully prepared to eat both his sandals.
Tobirama glances back at Hashirama. The bruise from where Butsuma hit him is verging on purple.
Hashirama leans over to him. Butsuma won’t be back unless he gets particularly drunk and has an overpowering urge to come back and yell at his sons a bit more.
Tobirama doesn’t hate Butsuma. He’s just a product of his generation, and as much as he hates the thought, it’s likely that Tobirama would have turned out the same if he was in Butsuma’s place.
“Are you sure Shisui will be okay? Should we go visit him now?” Hashirama asks, keeping his voice quiet.
Tobirama finds himself rolling up the map before he’s even nodded. It’s been a whole day since their last meeting, the most conscious Shisui had been since Tobirama had found him.
But these things can easily be undone, and Shisui could fall back into the awful haze of feverish delirium very easily.
Shisui may be an Uchiha, but Tobirama has found himself caring, despite his best efforts not to, and fever-induced delirium wasn’t pleasant under any circumstances. Shisui had said some… concerning things. Called out for people that were obviously never going to come, and sounded so genuinely terrified of others it was rather horrific.
Tobirama drags his brother out of the tent, already sensing there is no one about to see them.
He had already made the decision not to tell Shisui about his fever induced nightmares unless he specifically asked. He’d only feel embarrassed.
It was still a bit surreal, walking through the heaviness of the night to find a shack where he and Hashirama had hidden an ailing Uchiha shinobi, who is, if everything went smoothly, planning to help them achieve Hashirama’s dream.
For so long, Hashirama’s dream was nothing but his brother getting overexcited about things that could never happen. But with the three of them, it seems like the plan - this ridiculous, insane plan - might actually work.
They walk in silence, only interrupted by the occasional warning to dodge a plant or stick. They don’t rush, as though if they do it’ll shatter this renewed bout of determination and Shisui will disappear.
The shack is quiet in their approach, no light from the cracks. Shisui had agreed that it was too risky to light candles on the off chance someone was to pass through and see.
Tobirama flares his chakra a little harder than necessary in normal circumstances. Shisui’s blunted senses would struggle to pick up chakra signatures like he usually would with him still so weak.
He reaches for the doorknob and eases the door open. Thin streaks of moonlight leak through some of the cracks, illuminating Shisui’s exhausted, sleeping face.
Tobirama freezes in the doorway. The little light available brings out the dark bags under his eye and the hollow divots in his cheeks.
His breathing is steady. A vast difference from the feverish, shallow breaths the last few nights, but still there is something about the picture that pulls at something deep in Tobirama’s heart.
He wonders about the people Shisui had called out for in his sleep so desperately and so full of sadness.
He wondered what happened to those people. What they’d done to make this Uchiha love them so dearly and what they’d done to hurt him so.
Died probably.
In this world, that’s how it always goes. People feel sorry for the dead, but it is the ones left behind that suffer the most.
Hashirama comes to stand behind him, his presence a beacon by his side.
A rouge Uchiha might not be much use to them in the end, especially a wounded one, and yet Tobirama’s not sure he even cares.
Hashirama places a hand on his shoulder, the food that he’d been saving for Shisui clutched in his other hand.
Tobirama walks forward and crouches by the makeshift bed, Hashirama at his side.
Regardless of whether this works or not, Tobirama can’t help but feel saving this lonely Uchiha was worth it.