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2019-12-08
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Does Your Brother Know

Summary:

The very first memory that he'd ever had was his older brother Itama holding his hand.

Yes, just like that, Tobira-chan, take a step, like that, curl your fingers like this…

Just a flash, his brother's dark and pale hair lit by the setting sun, and Tobirama looking up and up into his pale gold eyes, and Itama smiling at him.

Tobirama was the youngest Senju brother. His entire life, he only ever wanted to follow in his brothers' footsteps.

Notes:

So this was born of a discussion with Perelka_L and Rikacain, when i was considering how the dynamics of the brothers might change if Tobirama was the youngest senju rather than the 2nd one (which, Perelka_L tells me is kind of fanon since Kishimoto had not explicitly said that they were in THAT specific birth order).

I also had been bitching about how Hashirama and TObirama's relationship had certain markers that made me think that Tobirama ought to have been much younger than Hashirama - especially since Hashirama made Tobirama Nidaime on his death, rather than someone from the next generation. It would make sense IF Tobirama was his much younger brother - thereby either the age of some people who ARe another generation younger than Hashirama, or inbetween.

In large enough families, this is very possible - (Hi there ValidAsshole and my own paternal fam!) where the oldest and the youngest children have an age difference of close to a decade or more.

So in this fic, I decided to explore that possibility - Tobirama is much younger - at least 8 years younger than Hashirama, and the absolute baby of the family.

It started out with "end game crack and shenanigans!" but ... uh, apparently Tobirama is not cooperating.

It's not as funny as I would have liked, but it's again a lot more like Where are all the Gods in terms of dealing with grief and the attendent emotions. It's got a happy (ish) ending though! Tobirama does get what he wants in the end.

Sort of.

(See the end of the work for other works inspired by this one.)

Chapter 1: I dare not drown my sorrows

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The very first memory that he'd ever had was his older brother Itama holding his hand.

Yes, just like that, Tobira-chan, take a step, like that, curl your fingers like this…

Just a flash, his brother's dark and pale hair lit by the setting sun, and Tobirama looking up and up into his pale gold eyes, and Itama smiling at him.

 

 

In his memories, Itama was always smiling at him. Always looking down and holding out his hands to Tobirama - it never mattered what Tobirama handed him - a blunted kunai, an injured rabbit - Itama would put aside whatever he had been doing and take it.

Kawarama and Hashirama - they were older. Always so much older than Tobirama - so tall, always walking ahead, talking to each other with secrets that Tobirama was too young, too small, too far away to share.

But Itama was always the one who had time for him, who would turn around and smile, his chakra lining him in a beautiful golden halo that always, always made him smile back.

 

 

The aunties always said that Tobirama had been a fretful baby - fretting and crying and needy. But the only one who could soothe him was Itama, sometimes even as soon as he walked into the room.

Maybe they were exaggerating - Tobirama didn't think his sensor abilities were that honed as an infant. But it had always been a nice thing to know, to feel, to believe, that even before he could reliably open his eyes, he'd already known Itama was the warmth in his life.

 

 

Of his brothers, Hashirama was the sun. Blinding, huge, dazzling. The perfect heir. The one that of course Tobirama must call Anija, not niisan, not even aniki. The only wielder of the mokuton in generations, the pride of Senju.

If Hashirama was the sun, the one who would lead them to glory, Kawarama was the stars. Beautiful, talented… Unreadable. Little enough patience for a tiny toddler who wanted to follow him and Hashirama; he was kind but had nothing to say to a child who could hardly pick up a full-adult sized kunai nor make completely intelligible conversation yet.

But Itama.

Itama was the moon. Silver-gold, and close enough to touch, always close enough for him to reach for.

 

 

"Itama," Kawarama said, shaking his head. "Father needs to see us."

"I'm almost done," Itama said, hands over the white fur. "Tobira-chan, hold him still please."

"You can't be serious," Kawarama said, huffing a little and Tobirama ducked his head, concentrating on trying to keep the rabbit still, until the green glow of Itama's chakra faded.

"It's little enough," Itama said, and smoothed the blood matted fur of the rabbit's side. "There you go, Tobira-chan."

"You'll teach me how to, later?" Tobirama said, knowing that Itama didn't have the time, wouldn't have the time, he was an important medic but - "So I'll do it myself and not bother you anymore?"

Itama laughed and ruffled Tobirama's hair. "Of course."

"If Father doesn't kill you for dallying," Kawarama rolled his eyes.

Tobirama made a little noise, clutching the rabbit closer to his chest. Would Father really be so mad…?

"Father wouldn't mind if I said I had a patient," Itama said, and smiled conspiratorially at Tobirama. "Right, Tobira-chan? Make sure to feed her some hay before letting her go off."

"Hurry up!"

"I'm coming," Itama said and as usual, always leaned down to brush Tobirama's bangs out of his eyes, before turning to go.

 

 

It shouldn't have been any different a day. It should have been just Tobirama out in the fields, safe in Senju territory hiding a little from his lessons so he could read his books he'd stolen from the archives because the light was better out in the open fields.

It should have just been a normal day, until he felt the crackling edge of strange chakra.

He was only five years old.

His range was impressive for his age, but it wasn't that far, and he'd never been in direct contact with their enemy.

A hawk screamed overhead, and Tobirama felt his heart seize a little, inside his chest, and he tried to grab his books -

He should have left them.

 

 

That first part of the chase was a blur - it always would be.

Fear and adrenaline washing over everything then - he could look back years and years from that point where he'd gone from standing in the open and the scream of a hawk chilling his blood - and then running.

And fire.

So much fire.

Was it real fire, or fire chakra?

His five-year-old mind never remembered clearly.

 

 

"Stay - stay here," Itama said, and there was never a time that Itama looked so big, catching Tobirama and shoving him into the hollow of a tree. "Shush - "

"But - Itama - there - "

"I know. Shush!"

And Tobirama had never seen Itama all but haul earth and sand out of the air, barely shaping it before it blocked up Tobirama's view, covering the tree with what was probably sandy looking rock and looking like there was hardly anything there.

Blocked from view - but not from hearing.

"Oh look what we have here, a little Senju rabbit."

 

 

Then it was all sound, and Tobirama's imagination - and he could never be sure if what he heard was - was what he thought was happening.

A sharp, burning whistling sound. A flare? It was a flare- a signal.

"Ah fuck." A man's voice. Stranger.

Further away.

"What are you doing here on our territory?" Itama's voice, definitely further away, and try as Tobirama might, he couldn't hear any footfalls, anything else but voices.

"Rabbit hunting," a different big, calm baritone, all the more terrifying in its strangeness, it's calmness. "And we've got ourselves one, huh?"

"Backup will arrive any moment. I'd advise you leave."

Tobirama only had his kunai, but he could - surely he could have - if he'd pushed free, the earth was only a thin layer over the tree, and Itama's chakra was the cool gold-green, calm and even, even as it coiled a little in worry.

Tobirama was scared too.

"Or else what, you'll bite?" a third voice.

Three of them, so large, so big, and -

Tobirama could help, he could, but his hands were frozen in terror, the fire of these strangers keeping him still and locked in place.

"Touch me," Itama said, calm, and almost icy, "And you'll see what happens."

Then chakra - flaring out, hot and sparking and vicious, but Tobirama could hear - feel - Itama, cold and precise under it all, and someone screamed out -

"Fucking - Kamisama, that was his eye!"

Itama would be safe, Tobirama thought, remembered thinking.

Of course he would. Itama was fast, he was so controlled, he could break a man's fingers from a mere touch.

There were screams.

Meaty crunches that were - had to be, in Tobirama's adult recollections, broken wrists, cracked ribs.

The noises made were all the strangers', of course - but.

But.

He didn't know - and no matter how Tobirama searched the memories, after - he never knew when those gasps turned into Itama's.

Just that Itama's chakra suddenly shot through with red - pain.

"Uchiha. Dogs," Itama said - and he'd sounded… wet. Like the time Kawarama had caught some sort of cough, a bad one in his chest, and it sounded like every word was a gargle, and that Itama had to ply him with hot tea and warm chest compresses for a whole week, and Touka had kept Tobirama away from Itama, even if all he was doing was trying to go find him just to ask if he could help, somehow.

"Watch who you're calling a dog, Senju bitch," and the baritone was still calm, but so hot, now, like the burn in the height of summer and then Itama screamed.

And screamed.

And didn't stop, and Tobirama couldn't NOT feel the way his chakra flared green riddled with red and scorching, making him flinch back so hard he hit his head against the back of the tree trunk, grit and dirt falling into his hair as he tried to claw at his ears to make the sound STOP.

And then suddenly as it happened, scream and chakra cut off.

Blank.

There was a hawk's scream overhead, thin and high-pitched.

"Let's go."

And then the fiery chakra was gone, disappearing into the distance and -

And -

There was an echo, a roar, in Tobirama's head, maybe from the hitting of the trunk but Itama… Itama would come for him. Right?

Itama -

The sand and dirt was easy enough to push out from, and Tobirama burst out from the hollow trunk - trying to look for Itama, maybe he was just too far away for Tobirama to feel his chakra anymore. Maybe -

He looked wildly around, and there, in the trampled grass, was the pale colour of -

Tobirama ran towards it, and Itama's clothing was a pale sprawl, dotted with brownish red, but -

"Itama- " Tobirama said, reaching for him, "Itama - I can't feel -"

He couldn't feel his chakra.

"Itama! Wake up!"

Hand on Itama's shoulder, now, and it was - was - sticky, hot but - Itama wasn't moving.

"Itama,wake up!"

When he yanked Itama, he moved limply, rolling easily against Tobirama and Tobirama jerked at the sudden smell of - metallic smell, and -

"Itama!" he shoved his chakra at Itama's neck, where the most red was, the way he'd seen Itama heal rabbits and birds and the one time, a frog, channelling his chakra in spikey blue-green jittery spurts.

"Itama please!"

 

 

This was what he remembered most sharply: Itama's empty eyes, always a soft gold brown for Tobirama - empty and blank. The way the pale part of his hair was dark but in a completely different way from the deep brown of the rest of his hair.

The way it smelled, sharp and metallic, a weird sort of meaty smell, especially when Tobirama curled against Itama's side, curling under Itama's heavy, limp arm, pressing his face against his chest even as he forced chakra out from his hands, more blue than green now as he lost control of the healing jutsu, funnelling it to try and keep Itama warm.

The way the sun was burned down on one side of his face, and how he didn't dare move, the way Itama's grip on him slowly, slowly grew stiff, and still he couldn't stop hoping that this time if he tried a little more, Itama would breathe.

The noise when they pulled him from Itama, that sharp unearthly crack and Hashirama pulling him up and he screamed for Itama.

Itama, Itama no he needs - .

And Hashirama's eyes, dark and distant like the night sky, deep and terrible and so, so dark - fingers to his forehead.

"Sleep, Tobira."

And then darkness.

 

 

There had been a funeral, of course, Kawarama holding Tobirama's hand and all Tobirama could think, then, was if they had come faster, if he'd broken out of the tree earlier, if he'd put those books down and run faster, Itama would be the one holding his hand instead. There wouldn't have been the thick headache inducing incense smoke in the air, turning the bright light grey and hazy, and there wouldn't be all these adults pressing around, as they put the large wood coffin in the ground.

It had been huge, to Tobirama's mind, and it always would be.

If it hadn't been for Kawarama's hand, pulling him towards the grave stone, handing him the grave-notes to feed into the fire, Tobirama would have run away, back to the field, where Itama always came to look for him. Because there, there - Itama had to be there, right?

But Kawarama's hand, too big, too bony, too hard, had gripped him tight around the wrist, and made him put the paper into the fire, feel the heat burn against his skin and Tobirama had tried to pull away, starting to cry, because that had been the fire, the fire he'd felt in the tree, if he had only run out fast enough, if only -

When Butsuma came to pick him up, Tobirama had demanded, "I want Itama-nii back! I want Itama-nii!"

And all his father could do was muffle his face against his shoulder while Tobirama shook.

 

 

Kawarama tried, afterwards, to be around Tobirama a bit more.

But Itama had always been the bridge between Tobirama and their older brothers - Itama always knew what to say so Tobirama couldn't make them mad with his questions, and so they wouldn't make him cry because they didn't know how to talk to him.

Without Itama, Tobirama couldn't just sit and listen. Itama had talked to Tobirama, you see, and told him everything and shown him how he was doing what he did, so Tobirama had been content to listen, feeling his soothing cool dark-green earth chakra against his senses.

But Kawarama was a pale silvery air, always too fast, to bright, too far for Tobirama to understand, and he couldn't answer Tobirama's questions - not that Tobirama even knew what to ask him, anymore.

But at least, at least, Kawarama could give him a kunai, and show him some kata…

And Tobirama tried, so hard, to not drop the kunai, or make mistakes, because those always made Kawarama yell, and when Kawarama yelled or got mad, Itama no longer could come and make everything alright and make it so that Tobirama didn't cry anymore.

Tobirama tried not to cry anymore.

 

 

Kawarama, for all that he was brilliant in his own way, he was like a typhoon. And maybe he was not very good at talking to anyone else but Hashirama, because trying to understand what he said was exhausting for Tobirama.

Instead, Kawarama was much better at showing, and when he had to explain it in words, it made him frustrated. So Tobirama read as much theory as he could, in the library archives, so that when Kawarama showed it to him, Tobirama could keep up, and channel the right chakra from the right places in the right seal-order, without too many wordy explanations, and at least, Kawarama smiled.

And.

To be fair, Tobirama liked this; there was a lot of reading to do, and Kawarama was clearly pleased when Tobirama didn't need him to explain it in tiny baby words like an actual tutor would. And one day, weeks after, during one of the training sessions where Tobirama was carefully trying to create a tiny palm-sized typhoon on his fingertip like how Kawarama had shown him, Hashirama came by.

"Kawa-kun, I was thinking about that policy - ah." He paused when he noticed Tobirama and Tobirama - blinked, flushing a little.

He'd been so focused on keeping the tiny whirlwind on his fingertip, he hadn't noticed his oldest brother.

"Well you're busy training Tobira-chan," Hashirama said.

"Nah, he's already got it, see?" Kawarama said, and Hashirama looked down, closer, and Tobirama bit his lip.

It was like having the sun suddenly turn to him, full and warm instead of a distant disregard.

"Have you?" Hashirama said, and his voice gentled from when he was talking to Kawarama. "May I see?"

He reached out to touch Tobirama's wrist, drawing his hand up.

It was like having the sun suddenly know your name. What was he supposed to do, except stare wide-eyed?

"Interesting."

"It wobbles," Tobirama said, a little wobbly himself, and then to prove himself right, the whirlwind twitched and then spun itself off into nothing.

Kawarama made a noise, mouth twitching up, and Tobirama chewed on his lip. He thought he'd gotten it right this time.

"How long have you been showing it to him?" Hashirama said, dropping Tobirama's hand, and Tobirama could shuffle backwards a little, exhaling in relief that Hashirama's attention had turned back to Kawarama.

"Just today, why?"

"Hm."

Hashirama and Kawarama exchanged a look that at least meant that Tobirama could try to make the little tiny whirlwind again, and keep it from wobbling; but then Hashirama was looking back at him all over again and Tobirama's concentration was shot, and it scattered again, useless.

It was embarrassing; if Anija was going to see him, Tobirama would prefer he see him do the jutsu perfectly, not, not falling apart.

Hashirama hummed, and then put a hand on Tobirama's head, half a ruffle, and then he was leaving. "I'll see you later to review the Hatakes' supplies this year, Kawa."

"Of course, Anija."

Tobirama tried not to sniffle, sure that it was mostly in relief.

 

 

The next day, however, Father stayed after breakfast instead of heading with Hashirama to review the other shinobi for their war efforts and missions.

"Come here, Tobirama."

And Father was not terrifying, at all, but he was always so busy, always so distant, Itama had said that it was like that ever since Mother had passed away.

But now Father was looking at him, and it was just Father, and his brothers.

"Show me what you were doing yesterday," Father said.

And. and it was a good thing that Tobirama had been practicing the entire time that Anija had left yesterday, because this time he could make the whirlwind, bigger too, on his fingertip, and have it move across his palm like a spinning top, and not completely embarrass himself.

Kawarama's indrawn breath was a little harrowing, but it didn't wobble at all, so Tobirama was very pleased.

"So Hashirama was right," Butsuma said. "Water affinity, but you are already able to manipulate wind jutsu?"

"After seeing it only once," Hashirama said.

"Anijaaaa," Kawarama whined a little, though Tobirama didn't know why. "I was going to tell Father!"

Hashirama only smiled.

"Well then, we need to get Tobirama more teachers. Who knows what else he can do?"

 

 

Life for Tobirama didn't change that much, except now someone went into the archives with him - and pulled down books he couldn't reach for him.

More shinobi, besides Kawarama, who tried to show him jutsu, with varying levels of shoutiness, but the reading of books were always first in the morning, though sometimes Tobirama would wake up even earlier before the last watch was over, and go to the library with just a tiny glowing ball of chakra and no one else.

It took almost a month before one of his tutors realised that he was using his own chakra as lamps instead of an actual candle and then an even bigger fuss happened.

The only time he cried though, was when one of the medics tried to show him a jutsu to heal a gut wound and the smell of the blood made Tobirama jerk away and hide in his room for a whole hour before Kawarama found him.

It was a pity, the medic said, because Tobirama had the necessary control, just like his older brother.

 

 

"When you become a shinobi," Kawarama said, as kind as he could, which considering that he was not generally disposed to be kind, was a great effort on his part, "you have to be able to cope with the smell and the - everything, you know, Tobira-chan."

Tobirama nodded, and concentrated on the tiny sapling in his hands.

It was only a mokuton by the barest of definitions - a combination of water and earth chakra that technically was growing the sapling, but only one tiny cell at a time at the meristematic tip, and it was exhausting. Hashirama had praised his effort the other day, but it had been said clearly so Tobirama wouldn't feel hurt. It wasn't any good at all.

"You could - oh, Anija said you gotta work slowly right? Right. One step at a time. So what lowest animal has blood? You could start with - uh, mushrooms."

"Mushrooms aren't animals," Tobirama said, because that was wrong.

"You know what I mean," Kawarama said impatiently.

But it started Tobirama thinking.

Kawarama was right, after all. He couldn't hide in his room forever. Itama was gone - there was no bringing him back, but Tobirama could learn to be useful so that - so that he wouldn't cause someone else to die again.

Right?

So he just had to get over it.

And Kawarama had a good point, which Anija had said as much - start small.

Insects wouldn't do - they had a haemolymph, but those weren't really blood, didn't smell the same.

What did bleed red though?

…

A fish.

 

 

The thing about fish was that they might bleed red, but they didn't smell like - well, anything but fish. It was a strong scent, alright, but they at least smelled like the first few steps before ginger, and if he got overwhelmed by it, he could use steam and fish didn't smell like… anything else other than delicious after it was cooked.

When descaled, fish's skin was easy enough to learn how to put stitches on.

The problem was, no matter how fresh, the fish's flesh would not knit with chakra, because they were dead.

Tobirama had to start with the next stage up.

Maybe frogs?

Notes:

Itama dies when Tobirama is five. This chapter ends roughly when Tobirama is about six or so, starting to get over his trauma of the smell of blood and death.

Itama is roughly 14 (or just before). That means Tobirama is about 9 years younger than Itama. I just assume that Hashirama is about 18 at this point - which makes Kawarama about 15 or 16 or thereabouts. Why such a huge age difference? Well, anything is possible but i assume that Tobirama is an 'oops' baby. It's also possible that Tobirama's mother is a second wife.

Chapter 2: Ah but boy, you're only a child

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Tobirama had been working in his lab, a nice large room that Butsuma had put aside for him and his little experiments, when it happened.

Butsuma had been pleased and praised Tobirama's attempts to learn medical jutsu - even if he wasn't quite yet able to work on people yet, but he'd been able to work with summons and the Hatake's wolves, which was no mean feat, in and of itself, and Butsuma had told him that he deserved to have his own space for working on it.

Kawarama had rolled his eyes a little, muttering something about being a favoured son - but he'd ruffled Tobirama's hair afterwards and just laughed at the pile of scrolls that Tobirama had accumulated in the bookcases, filling them all up immediately after he'd been given the room and he'd still had twice as much back in his own bedroom.

Kawarama…

The thing was.

He'd not detected Kawarama.

He hadn't. He couldn't. Kawarama's chakra had been so low, by the time they'd brought him in, it had been Touka coming to fetch him, and tell him not to be alarmed.

That had alarmed him -

But by then…

It had been over.

 

 

This time, Tobirama didn't need anyone to hold his hand to feed the flames the paper offerings, and this time he was able to blink away the sting from the incense and smoke.

 

 

"What are you reading?"

Tobirama looked up, and then further up - because Hashirama was so tall, and Tobirama was curled on the floor with an old, tattered scroll, sleeve already damp from him constantly wiping at his cheeks and chin to make sure he didn't drip on it.

His oldest brother - his anija - crouched down and even so Tobirama still had to look up to him.

For once, Hashirama's gaze was nothing like the bright sunlight he always thought his Anija was - it was dark, cloudy. Shadowed.

"Something on - on the ideas of. Life. Life and chakra," Tobirama said, and carefully tipped it forward for Hashirama to see.

Hashirama's gaze flicked at him, and then he looked down, studying the old, half-faded text, that Tobirama had been straining his eyesight on for the past hours.

Past days.

Days since… since the second funeral.

Death, it'd said, was merely a pathway. A door might appear one-way, but if it was opened on death, for the merest second, there would be a space where one could reach through…

"No, Tobirama," Anija said, and Anija took the scroll out of his hands.

"But Anija!"

"No."

"But I could bring Kawarama back!"

Anija straightened up, tall and terrible like the great huge trees that grew out in the forest, blocking out the light, and Tobirama's view of Anija's expression.

"No."

And Hashirama set the scroll on fire.

The ashes smelled nothing like the ones at Itama's funeral.

 

 

After Kawarama, Tobirama's tutoring still continued.

He saw Hashirama a lot less often. But that wasn't a surprise. There was so much fighting, possibly because the Uchiha and their allies saw the Senju as weakened.

Hashirama was needed at every front; the few times Tobirama saw him, Hashirama was always walking quickly, followed by subordinates and other cousins, trying to update him, report to him, hand him more papers and scrolls. He was still sunshine, even across the compound, but Hashirama was transient as the clouds - passing through from mission to front to mission again.

 

 

On Tobirama's tenth birthday, Hashirama gave him a wakizashi.

"I could help you, Anija," Tobirama said, holding the sword in both hands - nevermind that even though it was on the shorter side, more tantou than katana in length, it still looked almost as tall as he was, almost comically oversized in his hands. "I could - could -"

He didn't dare say that he wanted to replace Kawarama as Hashirama's second - they both knew that there was no way that Tobirama could.

Just like there was no way that Hashirama could ever replace Itama, but then, this was war, and Tobirama had long since started to help in the medical rooms, using his carefully researched and practiced jutsu to try to heal and fix wounds. Even though he was hardly the talent that Itama was, the older medics were pleased enough to let him help with the simpler ones, and occasionally sit in on surgery to hold and watch.

"I could help," Tobirama said, softly, looking down at the white and red cording of the hilt, the smooth polish of the sheath.

"I know," Hashirama said. "But you're helping at the medic room aren't you? And doing jutsu research. When you're older, you'll watch my back, yes?"

"Of course, Anija," Tobirama promised.

 

 

Tobirama was maybe twelve when he realised that he was long past the age that Itama had first gone on the battlefield.

Of course, Itama had shown promise as a medic young too, so had not gone onto the field quite so often - but Kawarama and Hashirama had already been engaging Uchiha bastards before their tenth birthdays, and by the time Hashirama had been twelve, he had more than made a name for himself against the Uchiha, but he had been known not only as Butsuma's heir, but clients had asked for him by name too.

At twelve?

Tobirama had seen nothing of a real battlefield. He had not been sent ever on a mission either.

"You're still young, Tobira-chan," Father said when Tobirama brought it up at dinner. "What was this about that speed jutsu you were talking about?"

Maybe, despite Tobirama's going through tutors like water, he was still nowhere as good. Maybe it was because in controlled circumstances and situations, in the sparring circle Tobirama could defeat his tutors three times out of five, but a battlefield was different. A mission was different. Right? Cutting a man's flesh to cut out infection or fish out dirty splinters was different from cutting a throat.

He didn't have the experience.

No wonder Father was reluctant to put him on the field.

 

 

Even though he practiced daily with the sword Anija had given him, Tobirama knew that wasn't his strong point. Certainly, it wasn't what Father or Anija could rely on him for - he was no help at all in the field. He might be a strong sensor with incredible range, but it was useless since he was not a field shinobi.

But what he could do to help was create jutsu.

He created a jutsu to make solid clones, though its drawback was its huge draw of chakra; Father said it was incredible - and Anija had praised him, taking great care to show him how he could make three of such clones, a testament to Anija's great chakra reserves that allowed him to do so.

"Just one's good for a mission isn't it, Touka?" Tobirama asked, afterwards.

"Sure it is, squirt," Touka said, ruffling Tobirama's white hair. "Burns you out like crazy holding it, but it's definitely a good one."

But Tobirama couldn't find a way to reduce the drain; it was limited in its use.

 

 

"You sure have a lot of squirrels and rodents around here," Touka observed.

"They're guinea pigs, Touka," Tobirama said. "Look, listen carefully, the guinea pigs are fed these - "

"That squirrel reminds me of someone," Touka mused.

"I'm trying to tell you what to feed the guinea pigs?"

"Fruit and nuts, sure got it - oh RIGHT, that squirrelly fucking Bastard!"

"That's not its name," Tobirama said.

"You name the squirrels? No don't answer, it doesn't matter, because that fucking Uchiha bastard is a squirrelly little shit, always running around -"

Tobirama blinked, now intrigued. "Who?"

"Izuna, Uchiha Izuna," Touka sniffed, even as she put a small piece of walnut into the squirrel's cage. "That little rodent faced Uchiha boy. Never staying in one place. The shunshin's barely enough- "

Touka wasn't a fast fighter - she was a genjutsu expert, of course, but against the Uchiha that was of little consequence. Over the years, Tobirama had heard her complain about Izuna of course, but this was the first Tobirama had heard of his speed. Most Uchiha were fast, but rarely could cope with Touka's sheer brute strength, let alone Anija's mokuton. For an Uchiha to outpace Touka's literal earth-shattering moves, that had to be incredible.

"He can outrun your shunshin?" Tobirama said, and hastily fed his guinea pigs. "Come, show me, Touka."

"Are you going to develop something that will let me finally get him?" Touka asked. "Maybe a net for his goddamn legs?"

"Show me his speed, and I'll see what i can do."

 

 

Tobirama could only 'listen' in on the next fight, of course, but with his sensing range, he could definitely feel Touka's sudden burst of chakra as she used the jutsu he'd crafted to boost her speed - and the little flare of surprise from what had to be that Uchiha opponent of hers.

It made him smug when Touka returned with news that she'd finally broken the squirrelly Uchiha's kneecap, but she looked exhausted. So Tobirama, always on the lookout for better ways to improve, asked Jirochi to come help with some earth and air jutsu that might improve the faster-shunshin…

His lab blew up.

No one was hurt but alas he lost one shelf of scrolls - they were fortunately only copies he'd made from the archives but those still hurt to lose.

 

 

The Shunshin had some limits that Tobirama was of course being stymied with, mainly, that there were literal physical limits. So he put that on the backburner of his mental percolators, and started working on mead.

One of the trade goods that the Senju had was mead - the limited amounts of Thousand Plum Blossom Mead commanded very high prices, especially amongst the nobles and merchants, and the Daimyo himself had been once served it during the Seventh Day Celebration of his youngest daughter.

It's limited quantities were of course that the bees preferred only plum blossoms, which bloomed only during winter - a prime time for shinobi missions, which meant that of course there was a shortage of manpower to grow more plum trees.

Still, Tobirama thought he'd succeeded in getting a cultivar to bloom longer, and earlier with a careful application of fire and air jutsu to adjust the microclimate around the trees.

So he had to try it out with the bees.

The bees certainly liked them.

The bees liked them so much, they refused to return to the hive, and when Tobirama tried to fuuton them back into the hive, the hive exploded.

Tobirama managed to avoid getting splattered with honey, but that wasn't the case for unfortunate cousin Jirochi.

Luckily he wasn't allergic to bee stings.

 

 

While they replaced the hive (and some of the other cousins tactfully suggested that Tobirama-dono look into the archives for more information and leave the beekeeping to them), Tobirama re-ordered the archives.

It made it so much easier for anyone else to access scrolls for jutsu that Tobirama decided to implement the same filing system for mission AND financial records.

When Cousin Hikari came looking for Tobirama later, covered in blood and absolutely fuming enough to forget to use -dono, she yelled at Tobirama about the fact that no one could find anything now, and it was ridiculous that she be expected to fill in a form about the mission in any capacity. It was only when Father came before they'd both stop yelling, and Tobirama was sent to his lab to sulk about inadequate and inefficient filing systems and squirrel brained moronic cousins.

(A week later, Elder Tarume implemented a New Organizational System for the mission records, and it turned out that its system was almost entirely Tobirama's initial attempt but Tarume was praised by the active shinobi for the much quicker access and straight forward intuitive form. Tobirama sulked for two whole weeks.)

 

 

"It's only because Elder Tarume-sama knows more about missions and how to implement such systems; he has so much experience after all," Hashirama told Tobirama kindly. "Perhaps you could run such things by the Elders first before trying it yourself?"

But Tobirama, despite agreeing, didn't like that he had no experience. So he tried to sneak along with Anija on his next mission.

Despite his genjutsu to mask his presence, he forgot that trees had no such sensory perception to mask, and Hashirama found him pretending to be a pack on a mule three hours into Anija's mission.

"Go home, Tobirama," Hashirama said, sharply.

"I could help," Tobirama protested. "Your mission targets aren't even anywhere nearby yet -"

"The mission details are classified, only Father and I are supposed to know," Hashirama said.

"I read them, they were available for anyone to see," Tobirama protested, because the runner had used chakra ink, of COURSE Tobirama could read them.

Hashirama's mouth flattened even more, and he ordered the mule stripped of its supplies, then lashed Tobirama to the back of the same mule with mokuton vines. "Take my brother home," he told one of his subordinates, which meant that because of Tobirama, his Anija was now one man and one mule's supplies short.

"Tell my Father about that - my brother has been reading chakra ink messages."

Touka later told Tobirama that it was rather impressive - most people needed to touch the message at least to read chakra-ink, while Tobirama had apparently read it right across a room, but the shame and mortification of having handicapped his Anija had Tobirama banish himself to his lab.

 

 

"That little shit has the sharingan," Touka told Tobirama when he came to change her bandages. "Kami knows when the bastard awakened it, which is shit, because he's fast enough already without it. But he copied your jutsu, Tobira."

Tobirama bit his lip, touching green-lit fingertips to her knee, frowning at the assorted other injuries that were already mostly healed. Especially the bandage on her side that covered the massive wound that would have ripped out half her internal organs if she hadn't turned at just the right moment, and the field medic hadn't gotten to her just in time.

"I'll work on it," Tobirama promised.

While air and earth had their limits, lightning was almost instantaneous. Tobirama could figure something out with that, couldn't he?

The first experiment he killed his rabbits by accident. He was frustrated when bringing them to the kitchen to be skinned and turned into stew, and his jutsu was still jumping, crackling from his skin -

He touched the metal work-top by accident.

One bright lightning clap later, every animal that still had heads attached were leaping about the kitchen.

 

 

"Tobirama did what," Butsuma said, staring at the definitely defeathered chicken running out of the kitchen. Butsuma and the cook watched it trip, and fall into the midden heap, and flail its legs in the air.

"Tobirama-dono said it was an accident," the cook said. "Can we forbid him from the kitchen, Butsuma-sama?"

Butsuma exhaled slowly. The undead chicken squawked, weird and croaky, because its throat had been already cut when it came back to … life.

"That chicken was supposed to be dinner," the cook said.

A previously dead rabbit hopped out to sniff at the flailing chicken legs.

"I'll tell him," Butsuma said. "And tonight we shall just eat vegetables."

 

 

Since he as banned from the kitchen, the laundry room seemed safe enough to conduct an experiment with air and water. The lab experiments had shown that small amounts of pressure as made possible in his lab had good preliminary results, so he decided to try it out in a bigger space with more water vapour.

The plasmarised hypersteam was very promising!

Right until something backed up and then the wells imploded and …

To put it delicately, the plumbing got clogged for a week.

Tobirama got banned from the laundry rooms too. And the sewage systems, just in case.

 

 

Because going large and pressurized was out of reach (for now), Tobirama decided to go small.

Smaller darts and knives ,with finer blades meant higher pressure at the same velocity. If one reduced the shape to the perfect size of a fish, it meant streamline and even easier to increase velocity. All of that meant that a small mass of water could take out a vein if the thrower or the caster was accurate and precise.

So smaller it was!

Smaller darts till they were tinier than pellets, small enough as those bullets that some of the samurai put in their tube-shooters, yet the damage was even worse because of the high velocity he could put them through…

Because he could get them smaller, smaller, smaller, faster.

It got harder to split them, the amount of energy and control required increasing by magnitudes -

But he was getting so small, he could almost get - there -

"Tobira-!"

Something like rope suddenly yanked his hands apart, absorbing his chakra before suddenly cocooning him into a dark space, Anija's arms around him --

Something exploded against the shield of wood.

"What happened?" Tobirama managed after the shock of energy - it felt almost pure energy in heat and sound - dissipated, his heart pounding. "Why are you here, Anija?"

Hashirama was looking down at him. "What on earth were you doing, Tobira? I felt a huge surge of power, starting to crest -"

"I was making water pellets the size of those samurai bullets," Tobirama said. "Smaller is better-"

"No," Hashirama ordered him. "Water bullets the size of the smallest kunai is enough. No smaller, no further. Understood?"

Tobirama pouted.

"No smaller than that. None of these experiments that utilize huge amounts of energy on your own, or else I will have Father take away your lab."

Tobirama pouted even further, but nodded.

 

 

"That little shit wouldn't stay STILL," Touka complained. "He managed to counter your advanced shunshin-! And he is taunting me with his fucking face, I'm going to put it through my KNEE the next time he comes in close enough -"

Tobirama listened to his cousin rant and exhaled. "I think," he said thoughtfully, "We need to bypass the actual physical distance."

"Excuse me what the fuck does that mean?" Touka said.

"I have an experimental jutsu that might help," Tobirama said.

This time there were no animals that exploded.

There were several trees that … were turned inside out, but he - and later Touka - were fine in the final test.

Tobirama considered the Hiraishin a success; even if he had to give Touka only a limited number of markers - it was chakra draining but really, in a spar or a fight, you only needed one at just the right time.

 

 

He didn't tell Touka about the guinea pigs who had ended up inside the stones in the process of his refining the jutsu.

Notes:

Kawarama dies past Tobirama's seventh or eighth birthday.

Ultimate Millenial Tobira: too inexperienced for the job, too young to get the job OR the experience.

Mead: I heard SOMEWHERE (and I think on the narutopedia) that one of the goods that Senju dealt with is Mead. So hello there a reference.

Have some hijinks guys! it's slightly less angsty here, and it's only uphill from here... i guess.

this is also to answer SOME of the guesses that bb grows up faster. on one hand Yes, that can happen, but on the other.... well.

For all his talent, he's still a baby, and after Kawarama's death, he is never allowed out of the compound because if both Itama and Kawarama, both older, skilled shinobi, died? absolute baby Tobirama will Definitely Die Too Easily.

Chapter 3: ...That you're out?

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Tobirama greeted the morning of his sixteenth birthday with conflicted, confused feelings. In Fire Country, a sixteenth birthday marked the age of maturity, and adulthood. This was the age that even the most conservative noble family would allow that their offspring were adults and of marriageable age. Amongst other social classes, of course, people married older, but that was usually because few had earned enough to marry and start their own household at sixteen.

In the Senju Clan and several of their allies, however, adulthood and maturity was marked by either the sixteenth birthday or the first blooded battle, whichever came first.

Tobirama's birthday came first because he had not been allowed on the field at all.

Tobirama picked at his breakfast, a simple light meal of rice and steamed fish and miso-soup, because sometime after lunch would be the start of the banquet. Anija had been meticulous in informing Tobirama that he would definitely be there to open his birthday banquet, after they went to the Clan Temple to pay their respects to the family that had gone on to the Pure Lands before.

Yesterday Tobirama had gone to Itama's grave, and carefully wiped down his grave marker.

And after his breakfast, which he only half-ate, went to Itama's spirit tablet in the Clan Temple.

Sixteen.

He was sixteen today, and it had come as a jolt to realise that he was older than Itama had been. Had Itama really only been fourteen when he'd died?

"Ita-nii," Tobirama said, kneeling on the newly replaced cushion in front of the altar and the quiet flickering lights. "I'm actually an adult now."

Older than Itama had been; he'd reached the age of maturity and Itama…

Itama had never reached his fifteenth.

(Tobirama didn't remember the day of his own fifteenth. He'd snuck wine from Touka and Jin and gotten drunk and spent the next day throwing up like an idiot. He most definitely had been too young to remember the years that Itama would have been sixteen, and Tobirama was not sure if he'd ever forget the sting that morning, last year.)

"I still…. Perhaps, this year, today," Tobirama told Itama, "Perhaps today I will be allowed to go on a mission."

After all, his entire purpose - all of them - had been to help their Clan wasn't it? There could no longer be an excuse, not when he was an adult.

"Look out for me, would you, Ita-nii?" he murmured, and kowtowed.

 

 

Based on his own observations of the comings and goings of various shinobi, Tobirama knew that they were in a relative lull of the war. Ever since Uchiha Madara had succeeded his father, he had pulled back on the fierce regular battles; and soon after Father had passed away, Anija too had called for a ceasefire.

It hadn't meant that there was complete peace - everyone knew that it was an uneasy lull - of which according to the histories that Tobirama had scoured their records for, had been numerous even during the leaderships of their fathers and their grandfathers. Anija was of course eager for a more lasting peace, but as yet no one had been able to come up with one.

Tobirama had not even been allowed to sit in on the council meetings, so he had no real idea which venerated Elder was blocking the path to peace. Or whether this blame could be laid directly on the Uchiha alone.

(Unlikely, because no matter how nice the Elders were to Tobirama, he knew that they were stubborn and with so much blood spilled, there was no way that any of them could be completely placated without utter annihilation of the Uchiha.)

(Tobirama, too, could not forget the smell of smoke and burning paper. He would never forget it, for the rest of his life.)

 

 

Anija personally poured him the wine; it was the first he was technically allowed - though none of previous times he'd snuck wine and sake before prepared him for the extremely sweet light gold burn of the plum and rice spirit.

"You're sixteen now, it's amazing how quickly you've grown," Hashirama said, smiling down at him, and Tobirama swallowed his cup full of wine, the burn of it overshadowed with Anija's golden warm regard. "And… the first time we can break out this wine at its proper maturity."

If Anija blinked a little too rapidly and turned away at that sobering thought, Tobirama couldn't blame him. The smoke from the hundreds of flicking candles burned at his eyes too.

 

 

As it was his sixteenth birthday banquet, it was Tobirama's duty to eat from every dish prepared, to receive and thank every one of the clan and their allies for their gifts. Midway through it, he noticed his Anija's second-in-command slip in to whisper to Anija, and Anija and Touka exchanged a look, before they both left the banquet.

Tobirama clenched his jaw a little, barely able to keep up the smile.

Clearly it was a military issue, a clan issue - and yet, as Clan Heir, he was stuck here receiving frivolous, formulaic birthday wishes instead of being at his Anija's side!

 

 

"Anija," Tobirama said, later that night, after the banquet was finally finished, his head pounding from the too-sweet birthday wine that was flowing freely and the press of so many people and their chakra around him.

There had been so much of it, because the rest of his brothers had cracked open only one jar of each of their own spirits after their first blooding, it had not been the time for the huge, decadent frivolity of a birthday banquet for any of his older brothers.

Tobirama had slipped away as soon as he could to try and find his brother - and even so it had been a little difficult - each well-wisher had obliged him to drink with them, and his head and liver was going to kill him tomorrow, despite his attempt at using his chakra to pass the alcohol out from his system as soon as possible. It left a too-sweet taste in his mouth, and his head was aching from the repeated chakra use as well.

Hashirama looked up in surprise at his appearance, he and his small cadre of trusted fighters.

"Tobira-chan! What are you doing here? Surely you should be still at the banquet -"

"It's already over," Tobirama said, feeling more than a little petulant. "What are you discussing? Is it a skirmish up north-"

"If it's over, then you should be in bed," Hashirama said, straightening up, and one of the other shinobi rolled up the maps before Tobirama could get more than a glimpse.

"But you're not sleeping, and that looked important," Tobirama protested.

"I'm going to bed soon," Hashirama said, soothing. "Jin, can you escort my brother back to his rooms?"

"Tobirama-dono-"

"But that's more important than sleep!" Tobirama exclaimed. "Anija, why wouldn't you let me help?"

"You're too young," Hashirama said. "Go to sleep, Tobira-chan."

"But I'm sixteen!" Tobirama protested, but his Anija was already turning away, Jin ushering him out into the hall, and Tobirama's protests fell upon deaf ears.

 

 

"No, you can't," Hashirama said.

"I'm sixteen," Tobirama insisted. "I'm adult, surely I can go on a mission now?"

"You're my heir," Hashirama said. "And besides all of these - what if you got hurt? You're too inexperienced."

And there was nothing to say to that, was there?

 

 

"You're going down to the Ember Village aren't you?" Tobirama asked.

"Yeah, pipsqueak," Touka said. "What, did you want another half dozen books from there?"

"No, I've enough books from there, but I do want to see some of their iron samples," Tobirama said and then casually dropped another hirashin marker in front of her. "Just place that there somewhere would you?"

"Another of your tests?" Touka said, examining it. "It's a little far from -"

"Drop another in a rest-stop mid-way between the compound and the village," Tobirama said. "But yes it's a distance test. Maybe if I can get the jutsu refined enough , you'll be able to travel that far."

Touka nodded, and Tobirama exhaled when she left his lab.

It wasn't just a test - Tobirama was already very sure of his own ability to travel said distance. Over the years while he had not ever reached the potential that … would make him more than a decent medic, his control had been refined to the point that he had already found he could travel to the nearby towns with extreme ease. He had a theory that Touka's slightly stronger affinity to air rather than water was interfering somewhat with the hiraishin, but it was more than sufficient for her purposes in battle.

For Tobirama… well.

He had waited a patient month past his sixteenth birthday, but Anija had not sent for him, nor was Tobirama allowed to sit in on Council or strategy meetings.

He might as well be sheltered daimyo's daughter waiting behind silk curtains for her father to betroth her to some ally!

The excuse he had been given constantly was that he was too inexperienced, too young. Well he was no longer too young, and Tobirama had finally finished with a jutsu that was more powerful than a henge and could fool anyone.

Including the Sharingan.

All he had to do was prove its effficacy and usefulness, and bring back useful information for his Anija - and then he could no longer say he was too inexperienced!

 

 

Ember Village was a small settlement a little closer to Senju territory than Uchiha, but due to its proximity to two small but productive iron mines, was frequented often by Uchiha. Technically it was neutral territory, in this uneasy peace, but Uchiha and Senju were still careful not to be caught alone by any of the opposing parties.

With Tobirama's jutsu, however, that was not a problem.

His hair was darkened to a platinum blond, and under the jutsu, long enough to tie up in a top-knot. It hid his eyes as well, darkening them to a light brown and giving his complexion a little more colour. Besides the fact that Tobirama had never officially ventured further than the small towns surrounding the Clan compound, Tobirama's altered appearance would never strike anyone was the actual Senju Heir.

He'd smirked a little when even Touka had walked past him without noticing him.

So. So he spread open his senses.

There were several Uchiha here - he knew them by their distinctive spiky, fiery chakra, the restless orange-red burn.

Any one of them would do.

And they were conveniently at a wine house where Tobirama observed ladies of the night plying their trade. This was an opportunity he could not let go.

He picked the one who looked a little further away from the group of Uchiha - ignored the way his chakra honed towards him before his attention did, the fierce dark gaze under the thick bush of black rowdy hair catching Tobirama's breath for a second.

"Uchiha-sama," Tobirama said, purring in the same way the other ladies were, "You look tired."

He saw the gaze look him up and down, and stay down at the jutsu'd bust (small, Tobirama had decided, that would go with his own slender build) and almost-modest neckline.

"You'll do," the Uchiha said.

Success!

 

 

Tobirama was exceedingly pleased when the Uchiha didn't notice anything at all, and besides he was very gentle, for all that Tobirama only had theoretical knowledge he'd gleaned from books.

He was drowsing, to all intents and purposes paying barely any attention to his 'client', when a quiet knock on the door alerted them both.

"Madara-sama, you got a message."

Madara.

Tobirama had just slept with Uchiha Madara.

Tobirama quashed his sharp attention as Madara read his letter, and discussed it with his messenger - it wasn't particularly critical - just some shipment from Ember Village - but to someone who knew what Touka was here for? Well, this was information that had bearing on any other subsequent mission here.

He stirred when Madara came back to touch his face.

"Awake?" He rumbled, and leaned in to kiss Tobirama's cheek.

"Ah," Tobirama said, barely managing not to bolt upright at the touch. "I should be going, Uchiha-sama."

"PIty," Madara said, his fires a warm, warm red, a crackle under his smile. "I would have liked another hour."

"Perhaps when you come back again next time, Uchiha-sama," Tobirama said, smiling.

He was very sure that no one was watching when he got out of the wine-house, and hurried just out of sight in the alley way to activate the hiraishin back.

No one was watching of course.

Except two red eyed crows.

 

 

"How did you find this out?" Anija asked, and for the first time, Hashirama's chakra was almost cool.

"I got it, personally," Tobirama said, and he should have been concerned by his anija's change in mood. But he was all but vibrating with the success of his mission.

"And how? You claim this was heard in Ember Village? Not even Touka has returned yet."

"My range with the Hiraishin is all the way past the Ember Village," Tobirama said, shoving his bangs out of his eyes, wanting to show his anija the marker he'd had.

"You went with Touka?"

"No, of course not, she's partnered with Jin isn't she? I went alone."

Hashirama stared at him, and Tobirama all but preened. "I wasn't even Caught, even as I got close to Uchiha Madara."

"You did what." And Anija's voice was - thunderous. Sharp and deep and -

Tobirama blinked. "Wha- I thought you'd be pleased," he said.

"You went alone, to Ember Village, without telling anyone, and got close to Uchiha Madara, the most powerful of Uchiha alive, right now. And you think I would be pleased?"

"You wouldn't let me take any missions!" Tobirama said. "It's useful information! I couldn't have gotten it unless I was pretending to be a prostitute!"

Hashirama's eyes narrowed even more. "My own heir and only brother," he said, slowly, "Went to a dangerous city with no prior mission experience, and slept with the enemy?"

"He's not technically an enemy right now, is he?" Tobirama said. "We're at a truce -"

"It's not a permanent truce! It just means if they had figured out who you were," Hashirama roared at him, "You would have been their 'guest' rather than a captive, but that would mean nothing because do you know how many concessions I would have had to cede to get you back whole?"

"That… that means nothing, I would have gotten away anyway!"

"And what if Madara had seen through this henge of yours? It's completely untested-"

"He didn't!"

"And you told no one, don't you know how many missions you could have put in jeopardy if you had been seen and caught?"

"Of course not," Tobirama said sarcastically. "No one's allowed me to know this, I only know that Touka went because she told me personally so I could top up her hiraishin markers!"

"No one told you because you're too young and inexperienced to know this!"

"You went on an infiltration mission when you were ten," Tobirama yelled back. "I'm more than older than you were - I'm almost older than Kawarama!"

Hashirama's mouth flattened into a dangerous line.

"Sit down," he told Tobirama. "And be quiet."

"No," Tobirama said. "I'm older than you were when you were leading squads on your own. I'm almost older than as long as Itama has been ever alive, and you still won't let me even sit in on anything!"

A mokuton vine shot out, grabbed him by the arm and yanked him down.

Tobirama's eyes widened - in all his life, Anija had never ever raised a hand or vine to him.

"I said," the Senju Clan Leader said, "be quiet." then he picked up a scroll from his desk. "It more than explains this letter I got from the Uchiha Clan Leader."

"What," Tobirama said.

"Your henge," Hashirama said, voice slow, low and terrible, "wasn't completely impenetrable."

The curve of his lips could barely be called a smile; it sent something like a chill down his spine. "Not to a sharingan. Because it's not as if you had tested this in the field, had you, Otouto?"

Hashirama met his eyes. "And now Uchiha Madara is asking for the hand of the Senju who had been in Ember Village, since he was, and I quote, 'the best virgin whore I'd ever fucked'."

Tobirama swallowed, hard.

"There's no way I can foist him off with Touka," Hashirama said, "even if she offers, and you know she will."

Tobirama opened his mouth, but he had no idea what to say.

"Go to your room, Tobira, and stay there," Hashirama said after searching his face a moment. "Anija… Anija will deal with this."

 

 

In the end, Anija did deal with it.

There was a lot that the Uchiha could have sued for - up to and including bringing this before the Daimyo as a case of attempted blackmail. And with the Uchiha currently in the Daimyo's favour… well.

It didn't matter that it was barely any sort of information that would have gotten more than a little bit of gain for the Senju - if it had been anyone but Tobirama and Madara involved, it could have been blown over eventually.

But Madara had been curious and intent about this unfamiliar Senju, and would not be fobbed off with anyone else.

Tobirama had disguised himself, yes, but he had not thought to disguise his chakra - because why should he have? He had never been on the field before, and maybe it was Anija's own failing in not preparing his brother and heir for that eventuality. But what was done, and as it turned out, Madara was a sensor of no little strength - he could tell at once whether it was the 'virgin whore' Senju he met in the village, and no one but Tobirama would do.

Of course, Madara's letter had said, I would not ask you give up such a personage without a proper price. Surely such a hidden talent must be worth a lot.

For Tobirama, Madara would offer real and lasting peace.

And with Uzumaki Mito finally coming to the Senju for Hashirama's own arranged marriage contract, well.

Tobirama was soon to be an extraneous heir that the Elders could find it in themselves to offer for alliance.

 

 

EPILOGUE

"You were a terrible whore," Madara said, when they were finally alone together in the wedding chamber, while Tobirama glared at him from under his veil.

"I was not," Tobirama said indignantly. "I was a virgin, not a whore -"

"But you admit you were terrible," Madara said, smiling and leaning in to catch Tobirama's mouth with a searing kiss. "At least I get to have you again."

"I should stab you in the gut."

"You could try, my pretty little Senju," Madara said against his lips. "But I thought I have a better wedding gift. How would you like a mission to Rain Country?"

Oh, Tobirama thought.

Finally.

Notes:

Aaaaaand the end LOL

Thanks to Rikacain and Lilili-Cat and Perelka_L and ValidAsshole for listening to me babble about this fic (and giving me random ideas for the previous chapter.

THis one isn't quite as funny but i hope it's good anyway :D

There are some parts where I pretty much just shoved Chinese 'generic' culture (probably actually Taoist and/or Buddhist cultural practices) in. ahahaha.

Because I am Extremely Asian (LOL). In Chinese culture, there is this wine called Red Daughter, or 女儿红. It's bought or given at the birth (or… well the 7th day celebration I guess) of a daughter, and meant to be opened at her wedding. So usually this wine would be aged for 16 or so years. Whether it's tasty or not, I don't know, because i personally only like extremely sweet alcohols (and thus might as well drink straight up fruit juice because fuck the 'alcohol' taste. bleah.)

In this case, I decided that the Senju have a special blend of spirits (rice and plum wine essentially) that they keep at the birth of a child, and only open at the age of maturity of said child. Tobirama is essentially the first of his siblings to actually get to drink his maturity spirits at his actual sixteenth birthday, as opposed to his brothers who all had been blooded on the battlefield much earlier and thus cracked open their spirits before the spirits could be 'mature'.

And at this point when Tobirama was 16, Hashirama is 29. Fairly late to have his own arranged marriage but Mito could well have been not yet ready to marry or there could have been extenuating circumstances. Mainly though, Hashirama would have been Heir and an active shinobi since he was 10 or even younger. Which means that he's got almost 20 years experience as a shinobi AND probably just over a decade of experience as a leader and his father's second-in-command. Tobirama would always look like an absolute baby to him, no matter how old Tobirama gets because Hashirama is literally more than a decade older than him.

Did he do a disservice to his Heir? Well.

There's also the fact that having a grown and physically heir is actually more valuable than having a wife and infant heir (infants die so much more readily than teenagers and adults), which makes Tobirama actually fairly valuable a piece for Madara to ask for, for all that Tobirama doesn't have field experience.

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