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Tobirama was missing.
At first, when he didn’t arrive home from his mission on schedule, they’d assumed he’d just run into some trouble. A particularly large group of bandits, an enemy scouting squad he’d had to avoid. An unexpected complication during the mission.
As days passed, though, and there was no sign of him, not even a missive sent ahead with a summons that he was going to be late, worry began to creep in.
His absence reached the two week mark, and Hashirama would no longer allow his counsel to waylay him. He may have duties as clan head, but his little brother was missing and they were finding no clues through the regular patrols and scouting parties.
The only reason he’d allowed himself to be stalled for this long was because the perimeter patrol had reported that the Uchiha were getting agitated. He didn’t want to risk leaving the clan headless in case of an attack. He didn’t think Madara would launch an attack on the clan compound — his friend was smarter than that — but there was always the possibility of his clan going behind his back, or overruling him.
An unlikely possibility; which was why he was leaving now.
Hashirama ran as quickly as he could to the town the job had taken place in. Asking around, he discovered that Tobirama had, in fact, made it there, and — upon asking the client — completed the mission successfully.
That meant that something had gone wrong on the way back, which was troubling. He hadn’t seen anything that stood out to him on the journey here, which meant he’d have to go slower on the way back, picking over everything with a fine-toothed comb.
He had no luck until he came to a spot that felt off. He was a shinobi, and as such had learned to trust his instincts. He stopped, observing more carefully. Something had caught his eye, registered as unnatural to his subconscious…
There. The too-smooth texture of covered tracks. A break in the foliage that was a little too clean, too sharp. And slightly farther in, hardly noticeable against the rough tree bark —
A kunai mark.
Maybe someone else would have missed it, but if there was anything Hashirama knew, it was trees. He ventured further off the road, into the forest. The trail was faint; very faint. Someone had evidently tried to cover their tracks. But here and there they’d missed things. And Hashirama was nothing if not observant when he tried to be.
He eventually reached a clearing, and whoever had covered up the trail had evidently thought that the stretch of forest between here and the road was sufficient cover, because they hadn’t bothered to clean up the actual battle site.
All the aftermath of a ninjutsu fight, with scattered rocks and cut trees and various burnt spots, and a lot — a lot — of water. Even after this long, it had not fully evaporated.
This was definitely Tobirama’s battlefield; the spread pattern of the water suggested one person, but the amount said at least five. His little brother may not have had his chakra reserves, but he was a powerhouse in his own right.
Most troubling, though, was the remains of what clearly used to be some kind of sealing array, seared into the ground. It had been roughly destroyed, likely in an attempt to obscure what it was for, but it was big enough that Hashirama knew it was likely not good.
Hashirama wasn’t good with seals himself, but he had retained enough from Tobirama and Mito’s rants to know that big seals were for either complex works, or amateurs. And there were too many lines for it to be anything but complex.
He delved back into the forest, following the (this time much more obvious) trail. Eventually, he came across a fork in the trail; one path veered slightly to the left, and one branched off right.
He contemplated which direction to go. He didn’t have time to go on a wild goose chase in the wrong direction, he had to find Tobirama!
He was saved from having to make a decision by movement along the path on the right. Out of the foliage appeared Uchiha Izuna, as quick as anything.
“Senju,” he said, tense, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m looking for my brother.” Hashirama turned down the other trail, and started walking. “Can I assume you’re looking for your own?”
He felt Izuna’s gaze on his back. “How did you know?”
“The scouts reported your clan was growing restless.” He shot a slightly amused glance at the younger man. “And you’re tense.”
Izuna ‘tch’ed.
He looked back to his front. “You didn’t happen to see a large seal burnt into the ground on your way here?”
“Yes,” said Izuna cautiously, “Why?”
“There was one in the clearing where they took Tobirama. It’s likely he and Madara were taken by the same person.” He hummed under his breath. “Or people, I suppose.”
“Who would want both of them but neither of us?”
“Hmm.” That was a good question. “Probably someone with a grudge. Don’t quote me on that, though.”
They continued following the trail, but it was slow going. It seemed like the longer they kept going, the fainter the trail got. More than once they had to stop and pause, figuring out where the it picked up again. They walked all through the day, and part-way through the night before they stopped to rest.
They both wanted to keep going, but they knew they had to be in top form if they had to fight whoever took their brothers.
They each ate their own pre-packed rations in silence. They sat, backs against opposite trees, watching each other out of the corner of their eyes.
“You don’t trust me.”
Izuna snorted. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re enemies, Senju.”
Hashirama sighed. “No, I mean you don’t trust me. As a person, not a Senju.”
Izuna sent him a considering look before conceding. “No, I don’t. You might have conned Nii-san into it, but I don’t trust someone without a dark side.”
Hashirama smiled at him sardonically. “You think I don’t have a dark side?”
Izuna rolled his eyes. “We’re ninja, we all have a dark side.” His gaze fixed on Hashirama’s. “I just haven’t seen yours.”
He looked away. “Stick around, and maybe you will.”
Izuna took first watch. Neither of them slept deeply, just enough to be rested, and they started out again before the sun had really risen. Hours later, they still hadn’t come across anyone, or a stronghold, or base, or camp. The signs of a trail were getting so faint they were moving forward at a pace reminiscent of unprepared civilians, trying to find the next clue.
“God, it’s like they got way better at covering their tracks as soon as they left the clearing,” said Izuna, “And here I thought we were dealing with amateurs. ”
Hashirama stopped, eyes widening.
“What, Senju, did something I said offend you?”
“No, you’re right , that’s the problem.” He turned around to face him. “If they were this good at cover-up, why was the start of the trail so obvious? And the seals, they were large, complex. That’s not the work of an amateur. ”
“What would you know about seals?” The snark was half hearted, Izuna having clearly come to the same conclusion he had. His face twisted in worry.
“We’re being led on.” Hashirama clenched his fist. He took a deep breath, wrestling down the anger. He needed to be calm right now. “We don’t have time for this.”
Ignoring Izuna’s questioning noise, he closed his eyes, and breathed with the forest. His chakra spread through the air, the plants, the ground. He opened up his senses, so different from his brother’s, and listened to the tree’s whispers.
Human-stranger-malice, he felt, Running. Disregard.
Searching, he returned, family. Cool-still-deep-water. Taken.
Muted-cool-still-deep-water. Taken. Stagnant-water-anger-malice. Banked-flames-doused-embers. Cool-still-deep-water, Wildfire-anger-smoke. Bad-flame-pattern, muted, dousing. Stagnant-water-anger-malice, takes.
Where-location-please-please-please.
The forest lit a beacon in his mind, and he was irritated to find they had been going in the wrong direction.
He sent a quick gratitude through the trees, before opening his eyes.
“What,” said Izuna, “The fuck was that ? Your face went all —” He gestured vaguely around his eyes in a circular motion.
“We weren’t getting anywhere on this wild goose chase, so I asked the forest.” He turned to the direction the trees had indicated, and started walking. “Come on, it’s this way.”
Izuna blinked out of his shock right back into irritation. “Why didn’t you do that in the first place?!”
“It’s not always easy to communicate what you want, let alone understand the response.” Hashirama waved a hand to the trees around them. “Plants don’t see or hear, or even smell or taste. Everything’s feeling with them. Sometimes things get lost in translation.”
“But it worked, right? You found Nii-san.”
“Technically speaking I found Tobirama, but they were taken to the same place, so I suppose.”
“Why don’t you care about him? I thought you two were supposed to be friends .”
Hashirama turned to glare at him, and for the first time Izuna began to regret provoking the man. “I care about him, but he is not my only priority. Madara is my equal, he can take care of himself. Tobirama is my little brother. I’m supposed to protect him.”
Then he turned back to the path he was making, leaving Izuna feeling slightly off-kilter.
He was used to thinking of Tobirama as his rival — his opponent, his equal. With how serious the other man was, he’d never really thought about how he was the younger of the Senju brothers. He just seemed so much more… mature than Hashirama, who spent most of his battles with Madara whining and pleading for peace.
Hashirama’s blatant prioritizing of his family ( not his clan, which was different, despite what the elders thought ) — along with his uncharacteristic anger — actually kind of reminded Izuna of Madara, and he wasn’t sure what he thought about that.
(He was starting to understand how they could be friends, despite being on opposing sides.)
With a clear destination in mind, they moved much faster, at a proper shinobi speed rather than a civilian one. As they neared their target, they slowed down, suppressing their chakra. It wouldn’t do to let their opponents know they were coming.
It was some sort of building, clearly built through the use of earth jutsus, and reinforced with seals. Now that they were close enough, Hashirama could feel the three people inside. Tobirama and Madara’s chakra signatures were muted, just like the forest had conveyed. The third person, who likely was the kidnapper, matched the chakra in the wards he could sense on the building.
Stagnant water, indeed.
“They’re inside,” he muttered to Izuna, “Plus one more, likely an enemy.”
Izuna narrowed his eyes. “ Your tree bullshit can sense through wards?! ” He whispered harshly.
Hashirama fixed him with a mildly shit-eating grin. Izuna just glared.
“Okay, but seriously, do we have a plan?” Hashirama asked, “Because in the one hand, we don’t know jack shit about the layout of the building. On the other hand there’s only one enemy.”
“I say we just go in. We already wasted time on their misdirection, and my clan and I need my brother back.”
“Agreed.”
They leapt to the door, and Izuna took point. He flashed through handsigns, then held a hand in front of the door.
“ Katon ;” He took a deep breath, and exhaled sharply. “ Bakuhatsu .”
The door exploded inward, away from the two. Izuna went in immediately, and Hashirama followed at a slightly slower pace, chakra roiling just beneath his skin.
The inside was simple; it wasn’t a complex building, two or three rooms, as far as he could tell. The one they’d arrived in was something of a living area. It wasn’t exactly hospitable, but it had a bedroll and a firepit; clearly where someone spent time. They bypassed it quickly, heading to the next room.
The second room was just as plain as the first, but far more sinister. It was built like a dungeon. There were places on the walls and floor clearly meant to connect chains to, and there was a tray with various weapons on it mid-way between the middle of the room and the wall. There were spots of blood on the floor.
Hashirama noticed none of this, however, because standing in the middle of the room, bloody kunai in hand, was the man who’d set the wards. And behind him, lying on the ground with his hands tied behind him, was Tobirama.
“Aw, you’re early,” the man pouted, “I was just finishing up!”
They watched, frozen, as the man bent down, and, grabbing a handful of Tobirama’s hair, dragged him upright. His eyes were clouded ( drugged, thought Hashirama in the back of his mind,) and his face screwed up in pain. Blood dripped from the cuts that had been made along the stripes on his jawline.
“Look, Tobi-kun, big brother came to save you!” The man’s voice lowered. “Too bad he’s a little late .”
He clenched the fist in Tobirama’s hair tighter, and the other man let out a choked-off noise of pain. The captor smiled, and made to do something else, something more, but —
Furious chakra slammed down, a physical pressure in its intensity. Izuna only caught part of it, not the intended target, but it stole his breath all the same. Shaking slightly, he edged a side-glance at his traveling companion.
Hashirama’s face was dark with rage. His hair fluttered around him from the sheer output of power. His chakra always felt like the forest, but ordinarily it was peaceful, the part of nature that was calm and beautiful and nurturing.
Now, though. Now, Hashirama felt harsh and dark, the uncaring wrath of the wilderness. Cold nights and poisonous plants and foliage hiding predators . He was dangerous, and he was powerful, and he was angry.
Hashirama broke the tense silence himself, voice deep and smooth and dark.
“Get your hands off my brother .”
The kidnapper grit his teeth, his hands shaking. A bead of sweat rolled down his face, and he swallowed. Glaring, he shoved Tobirama away from him.
Tobirama hit the floor with a loud ‘thump’ and a pained groan. His gaze was half-lidded and unfocused, and he didn’t seem to be processing anything that was happening.
Hashirama stalked forward, and the kidnapper scrambled back, ranting wildly.
“It’s your fault, you know, you seduced her, tainted her — she was meant to be mine, I had to punish you — but I knew I couldn’t beat you outright, you’re too powerful — ” He hit the wall, and despite the terror he was obviously feeling, he grinned viciously up at Hashirama. “But little brother isn’t. And the Uchiha, well, he was just a bonus. Stumbled into one of my traps, and I thought, hey, why not. ”
With a mere thought, Hashirama restrained the man in mokuton. “You took my best friend and my little brother, you tortured Tobirama, and for what?” The roots tightened, and the man hissed in pain. “Because you wanted to own my fiance? ”
“Mito was mine, you — ” He cut off, letting out a pained scream as Hashirama stabbed him in the shoulder.
“Congratulations.” Hashirama let go of the kunai, leaving it sticking out of the man’s shoulder. “You managed to hit every single one of my hot buttons. So, here’s what’s going to happen.”
He took out another knife, and held it to the side of the man’s face.
“Izuna and I are going to find Madara, and we are going to make sure he and Tobirama aren’t in any immediate danger. Then, we are going to figure out what happened, and for everything you did to them, we will pay you back in kind.” Panic flashed across the man’s face, and Hashirama felt a spark of dark satisfaction. “I’m not trained in interrogation, or anatomy, but I am a very good medic. I’ll make sure you live through it, and then I’ll take you back to the compound with me.”
Hashirama stabbed the kunai viciously into the wall next to the man’s head.
“And I’ll let Mito deal with you.”
And with that, he stepped away, leaving the man to stew. He walked over to where Tobirama was laying and sat, gently bringing his brother up to rest in his arms. Tobirama whined slightly as Hashirama reached up to inspect the cuts on his face.
“Shh, little brother, it’s alright,” Hashirama soothed, “Tobirama, it’s me, it’s okay.”
Tobirama squinted slightly, his eyes still not quite focusing. “ ‘nija?” he slurred.
“Yeah, Tobi.” Hashirama took a slightly shaky breath. “I’m here.”
“Hurts, Hashi.” Tobirama relaxed against his brother, closing his eyes. “Legs’re… broken.”
Hashirama’s free hand was glowing green, and it twitched as he received that news. “Don’t worry, Tobi, I’ll fix it,” he said softly, “You’re safe now.”
Izuna turned away from the scene, feeling like he was intruding. He walked over to the door they hadn’t come through. He had a brother of his own to find.
He pushed the door open, and was greeted by a third room, just as plain as the others. This one, however, was dark.
The light coming through the open doorway revealed the seals written on the walls. Izuna didn’t know jack shit about seals, but the amount worried him slightly.
He heard a slight snarl, and turned to look at the corner it came from. There, chained to the wall, was the hunched form of Madara.
“Nii-san!” Izuna rushed over.
Madara froze, then straightened, tilting his head. His eyes were covered with a black blindfold.
“Izuna?” Madara asked, voice hoarse. “How did you find me?”
Izuna removed the blindfold, an Madara blinked at the sudden light.
“Like, in this room, or the building in general?” Izuna snarked, “Because there’s only three rooms in this place, and Hashirama found the location with his tree-magic.”
He brought out two senbon, and started picking the locks on the chains.
“Hashirama?” Madara stiffened. “Wait, Tobirama. Where — ? Is he — ?”
“He’s alive and in one piece, if not the best condition.” Izuna gave a small triumphant ‘aha’ as the first lock clicked open. He jerked his head back to indicate the room behind him. “Hashirama’s with him.”
“And Katsurou?”
Izuna looked at Madara in confusion. “Is that the guy who took you’s name? Because he’s tied up in roots with a kunai in his shoulder.”
Still squinting, Madara smirked. “Huh.”
“And…” Izuna gave the senbon a final twist, and the second lock fell open. “Got it.”
They stood, Madara rubbing feeling back into his hands and wrists. As one, they headed out into the other room.
Hashirama was still seated on the floor, his brother half in his lap. He was running a green-wreathed hand over the cuts on Tobirama’s face, now, and though he’d clearly taken care of the worst of the injuries, the younger still looked bad .
His clothes were ripped, and what skin Izuna could see was a mess of bruises and small cuts. His hair was matted, with blood and sweat and dirt, and even in sleep he looked exhausted.
“Madara.” Hashirama’s voice was almost dripping with relief. “You’re alright.”
“More or less.” Madara looked at Tobirama, and something almost like guilt flashed through his eyes. His face hardened, and he turned towards where Katsurou was restrained. “But he’s not going to be.”
“Leave him alive, please,” said Hashirama, “I promised I’d let Mito deal with him.”
“Tch.” Madara grabbed the captive man’s face and made him look into his active sharingan. “Fine.”
A flare of chakra, and Katsurou’s eyes glazed over, seeing something that wasn’t there. Madara stepped back, his eyes fading back to black.
“What’re you showing him?” Izuna asked.
“Sensory deprivation. Time dilation. Hours upon hours of blank, quiet black void.” Madara sneered. “I’d add in the screaming, but he’d probably get off on that.”
Izuna clenched his jaw at the implications of that statement. Being kept in the dark with no visual stimulation for hours (days) on end would be bad for anyone. But for an Uchiha, who was hardwired for visual input?
Izuna was glad the bastard was suffering.
Hashirama stood, holding Tobirama cradled to his chest. He wasn’t short by a long shot, but held in his brother’s arms like a child, Tobirama looked… small.
“Could you add some injuries , then?” Hashirama gazed coldly at Katsurou over the top of Tobirama’s head. “I said I’d pay him back, but I’m worried I might get… carried away. It wouldn’t do for him to die before we got back.”
Madara exchanged a look with Izuna. Protective Hashirama was a scary Hashirama.
“Any specifics?” Madara asked.
Hashirama looked back to his brother, and tightened his hold slightly. “Fractured femur, left side. Broken shin, right side. Three cracked ribs, two broken. Sprained right wrist. Broken index and middle finger, left side. Cuts deep enough to bleed across the body. Two to the left side just under the ribs. Four three-inch burns; between the shoulderblades, left heel, right wrist, right side of ribs. Six-inch slice to the back of the neck.” Hashirama’s eyes flickered to the marks on his brother’s face. “Three cuts to the face.”
“Fuck,” Izuna said. Madara had to agree. Maybe the injuries weren’t extraordinary in the lives they led, but all at once? His sharingan swirled, and he added it to the genjutsu.
“I prioritized the worst of it, but…” Hashirama bit his lip. “Too much healing chakra at once can be dangerous, too.”
He cast a look at Katsurou’s slumped form and grimaced. He couldn’t carry Tobirama and take the bastard back with him.
Madara caught his look. “You worry about your brother, Hashirama. We’ll handle Katsurou-kun. ”
“Okay, but like I said — ”
“You promised Mito would handle him, yeah, yeah, I know,” Madara said, “I’ve never actually met Mito, but the fact that you are using her as a threat tells me good things.”
Hashirama smiled. It was a little weak, but it was genuine. “Yeah, she’s awesome.”
The roots holding Katsurou fell away, and Madara hoisted him over his shoulder.
“Nii-san, are you sure you’re — ” Izuna waved a hand at basically Madara’s entire body. “It’s been two weeks. If you were chained down the whole time…”
“Tch.” Madara sneered. “I can handle carrying him to the Senju compound.”
“Nii-san, you don’t even know where we are!”
Hashirama watched the sibling bickering with a small smile on his face. Maybe peace was within reach.
At least then one good thing would come out of this ordeal.
__________
Madara did, in fact, end up carrying Katsurou back to the Senju compound. He was a little weak from two-ish weeks of borderline complete inactivity, but he was also quite possibly the most stubborn person in all the elemental nations.
Izuna nagged him the whole way, but that only managed to fuel Madara’s determination. Sometimes it seemed like he ran on spite.
They stopped once, to rest for the night. Hashirama healed Tobirama some more, and Izuna bullied Madara into taking a break. They had some real food, now that they technically were in no hurry, and slept in shifts. In the morning, they started again.
Tobirama woke up a couple times on the way, but he wasn’t really coherent. Halfway there he’d broken out in a fever, and Hashirama’s fretting increased tenfold. It was worse because there wasn’t much he could do. Wounds can be healed, but iryo ninjutsu didn’t help sickness — in fact, it made it worse. An illness was the body fighting off a foreign force, and adding another foreign force (someone else’s chakra) only made the body fight harder, consequently raising the fever.
When Tobirama did wake up, it was mostly just unintelligible mumbling. It would have been funny, if it weren’t so troubling. It started out benign enough, but all of Tobirama’s muttering inevitably descended into pained noises; or worse, pleading whines. Every time it started, Hashirama would start up a constant stream of quiet reassurances, trying to sooth his brother back into sleep.
It was a relief to everyone when they finally arrived. The guards let them in with only a concerned glance at Tobirama and a wary one at the two Uchiha, and soon enough they were heading through the compound itself.
It was early evening, so a fair amount of people were out and about. Hashirama ignored the looks they sent them, prompting the others to follow his lead. Izuna covertly glanced around a they made their way, while Madara was much more blatant about it.
They arrived at Hashirama’s house shortly, and Tobirama got situated on a bed, while Katsurou was dumped on the floor.
Hashirama sent someone (neither Izuna nor Madara had caught their name) to get Mito, and then looked contemplatively at the two Uchiha.
Madara returned the (unfortunately familiar) look with one of trepidation. That look tended to end with Hashirama somehow inconveniencing someone for his own gain. Generally that meant Madara had seen it before getting pushed into the river. “What?”
Hashirama smiled slyly. “Would you two like to stay for the sentencing?” His smile widened. “After all, he has proved as detrimental to your clan’s well being as he was our own.”
Madara blinked, taking a moment to process the words. Then, he broke into laughter.
Izuna looked between the two in disbelief. “You’re inviting us to stay in your compound? For and extended period of time? Us? Uchiha?” He looked at Hashirama. “You know our clans are at war, right?”
“Ah, but we have a truce.” Hashirama’s innocent look was very convincing, if you didn’t know he was full of shit. “An unwritten one, true, but two sets of Clan Heads and their heirs working towards a common goal? Why, that’s almost unheard of.”
Madara finally regained enough control of himself to stop laughing. “And truces can lead to ceasefires, and then alliances, if they are observed correctly.” He smirked at his friend. “You bastard, you’re using this to set a precedent to hold over your elder’s heads!”
“Oh my, would you look at that,” Hashirama chirped, “The two strongest Uchiha were in the middle of our compound for several days, and they didn’t even kill anyone! Guess they’re not as ‘rampantly violent’ as you thought!”
Madara scowled. “Did they really say that?”
“Yes! Like they have any right to talk, sending off children to fight!” Hashirama sighed. “I’ve been trying to get them replaced, but the process is… lengthy.”
They all turned their heads as they felt four chakra signatures approach the house. None of them were the messenger Hashirama sent, so it couldn’t be Mito.
Hashirama frowned. “Speaking of my Elders.” He walked to the front door, opening it just as the four old men stepped up to it, the one in front’s hand raised to knock.
The four men blinked, taken off guard. They recovered quickly, though, with the speed of someone who spends most of their time worrying about appearances.
“Hashirama-sama.”
They gave off the distinct air of people trying desperately not to seem flustered.
“We have heard talk among the clan that you have brought…” The man who was speaking made a disgusted face. “... Uchiha into the compound.”
Hashirama looked at them, unimpressed. “Yes. And?”
Madara leaned to the side just enough to be visible to the elders. He gave them a sarcastic wave.
The man who’d been speaking (who Madara and Izuna thought was probably the leader in some fashion) spluttered indignantly. “ And? Wh — Hashirama-sama, we are at war, their clan is our enemy! How could you bring these — these — ” The man waved his arms angrily in the direction of the Uchiha. “ — animals into our home?! ”
“Hiroshi-dono.” Oh boy, he was doing the scary thing again. “Madara is my friend. He and Izuna helped me bring my brother back. My brother, who is your clan heir . And Tobirama is hurt. ” Hashirama took full advantage of his ridiculous height, and leaned over the elder with his arms crossed. “I do not have the patience for you right now. So I suggest you either revise your complaints, or leave. Immediately.”
Madara couldn’t see what kind of face Hashirama was making, but it must have conveyed how serious he was, because the group of four old men (And really, why did they come in a group if only one of them was going to speak? Cowards.) promptly decided to get the hell out of there. Despite their best efforts, they looked less like a dignified procession and more like a group of scared punks, running away from a fight they couldn’t win.
Hashirama sighed as they watched them go, and then turned back into the house. They went back to the room where Tobirama and their “guest” was. Hashirama stood in the middle of the room, staring at Katsurou, for a few seconds, then sighed again.
“What am I supposed to do with him?” he muttered, “It’s not like we have a cell in the house, and the prison block is o the other side of the compound. I don’t want to leave Tobirama, and I really don’t want to miss Mito, but can I really just leave him here…?”
“I mean,” said Izuna, “It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”
“Well, yeah, but we’re going to have to wake him up eventually…” Hashirama groaned, and put his hand over his face. “Ah, fuck, I’m going to have to give him a trial.”
“What?” Madara looked at his friend incredulously. “A trial? But there’s no debate, he’s guilty.”
“Yeah, but I made a law, a couple years ago — lots of shit happened, someone tried to frame Tobirama for treason — but long story short, I made a law that everyone gets a trial before punishment,” he explained, “and if I break that law now I’d undermine my own goddamn argument.”
At that moment, the front door opened. A young woman with red hair (obviously an Uzumaki) in twin buns stepped into the house.
“Mito!” Hashirama sped over to her, not quite running.
“Hashirama.” She smiled sneakily at him. “I ran into four members of your council on the way. They seemed somewhat… panicked.”
He grinned brightly at her. “I may have been a little too forceful with my dismissal of them.” He sobered. “Tobirama is injured. The man who took him also took Madara, so he and Izuna are here. We apprehended the kidnapper and Madara put him in a genjutsu. You… may know him.”
Intrigued and slightly wary, she stepped into the room behind him. Her eyes landed on the slumped figure on the floor, and practically froze with how quickly they turned cold.
“ Katsurou .” Izuna wasn’t sure how someone could snarl and still be so lady-like and proper, but somehow Mito managed it.
“So you’ve met him.” Madara raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, he was one of my more… persistent suitors. He believed that since he was polite during our interactions, he deserved compensation in the form of courting.” Her glare was like shards of ice. It was too bad Katsurou wasn’t awake to squirm under her gaze. “He could never seem to get it through his thick head that I wasn’t interested. ”
Hashirama straightened. “Wait, is he the one who kept pestering you so much you stuck his hands together for a month?”
“No, that was a different one. This one is the one who’s house I filled with scent-permeable storage seals filled with fish,” Mito deadpanned.
Izuna looked back and forth between the two, trying to determine if she was serious. Madara just stared.
“Don’t look so surprised.” She smiled at their gobsmacked looks. “I am an Uzumaki. Regardless of temperament, we are foxkin.”
“Tricksters,” Madara muttered.
“Wait,” said Izuna, “foxkin? Like, related to foxes? Like, Fox Wives?”
Mito smiled. It was definitely a fox-smile. “Not really, no. We simply have the summoning contract. It makes us… similar.”
Izuna blinked.
“Oh,” he said, “Like the Inuzuka… Or the Hatake, or the Yashagoro, or that one clan from Water with the sharks...”
“Yes, there are rather a lot of us.”
Madara squinted, and made a face somewhere between comprehension and annoyance. “That makes Uzumaki attack patterns make more sense. Or — provides an explanation for why they don’t, I guess.”
Mito hid a smug smile behind the sleeve of her kimono. “We are quite unpredictable. It’s rather amusing to watch opponents flounder.”
“Speaking of opponents,” Hashirama cut in, “Where are we going to put Katsurou?”
They all turned to stare at said opponent, where he was still slumped on the floor, in exactly the same position. A moment passed in silence.
“I assume you need to give him a trial, what with that law you passed?” At Hashirama’s nod, she continued. “Bring him to one of the empty guest rooms, I’ll set up a sealing array to keep him in.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Hashirama picked Katsurou up and slung him over his shoulder, making his way deeper into the house.
With nothing better to do, Madara and Izuna followed him and Mito, and watched the progress. Neither knew much about fuuinjutsu, and so mostly it just looked like Mito was writing (or maybe drawing?) all over the walls with a nice calligraphy brush.
“So…” Madara paused. “What do all these do?”
Mito didn’t pause from her brushwork. “This one is part of a barrier seal that spans the room. The one over by the door is a gateway seal, so we can enter the room but he can’t leave. The ones in the corners are chakra suppressors. The big one on the floor is an alarm, it will alert me if any of these are tampered with, or he leaves the room without my permission. The one on the ceiling makes it so I can soundproof the room if needed.”
“Huh.” You sure could do a lot with seals.
When Mito finished, they all stepped out of the room, and watched as she pushed a spark of chakra through the arrays. The lines of ink all lit up for a split second, before fading completely.
Madara released his genjutsu.
Katsurou blinked a few times in the “sudden” light, dazed. Then his eyes widened, and he turned towards the door.
He started towards them. “You — !”
“Bye.” Hashirama deadpanned, shutting the door.
There were a few seconds of obviously stunned silence, then muffled swearing started leaking out of the room. Mito flared her chakra, and the swearing abruptly cut off.
“Ah, soundproofing seals,” sighed Hashirama, “So versatile.”
“Yes.” Mito looked at him, eyes hooded and mouth pulled into a smirk. “You know, it is getting rather late. Perhaps we should, ah…” She raised an eyebrow. “Go to bed. ”
Madara blinked, before turning red and scowling at the implications. Izuna pressed his hands over his face, mortified.
“Ooh,” Hashirama said, “Yes, ma’am!” and that was way more than Madara needed to know about his best friend’s sex life, thankyouverymuch —
“You can take any of the empty rooms!” Hashirama shouted back at them, as his fiance dragged him towards their own room.
Madara groaned. “And she seemed so refined… But I guess Hashirama would never go for anyone straightforward , he’s candid enough for five people, let alone two… But, god, I did not need to know that…” He sighed. “Let’s just… pick rooms. Or a room. Whichever.”
“I’m not sleeping in the same room as you if I have to, nii-san. You snore.”
“Wha — !” Madara squawked, “I do not — !”
Izuna picked a room at random and went in. “Good niiiiiight, nii-san~” He shut the door in the middle of Madara’s blustering.
Madara grumbled all the way into the room he chose. As he laid down to sleep for the night, he sighed. Kidnappers and seals and trials and Senju.
It was going to be a big day tomorrow.