Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“It’s cold tonight.” Tobirama grit his teeth, wishing he’d kept his armor on, longed to be warmed by the stark, fluffed white fur he kept at his neckline. He gazed up from where he sat beneath the oldest and largest oak tree in the Senju Compound, watching as the leaves rustled in the nighttime wind. Unlike him, shaded by the large canopy of the tree, the rest of his surroundings were bathed in moonlight from the moonrise tonight. He sighed out, he could hear his own heart thump away in his chest, his sage marks itched, tempting him to scratch at his face, to trace the red lines that carved his face to relieve the sensation that would however remain for the course of the night.

His eyes narrowed as he retracted his gaze away from where it had made its way up to moon on its own volition. Instead, it fell on the southern gates of the compound, focusing on the figure that must have thought it was so conspicuous.

“What foolishness…” his kunai he kept snugged in his sleeve shot out, fierce and fast, whipping through the air as its piercing body ricocheted off the metal gate with a sharp clang, startling the figure just behind where it struck.

“Hey!” Came the voice, emitted with more of an indignation shriek. “Of all the…you snipped my hair!” The voice was instantly recognizable, belonging to the loud and obnoxious younger Uchiha, Izuna. The hot-blooded Uchiha had quickly scaled the fence effortlessly, clearly irate as he came under the full light of the moon and away from shadows. A clear breakage in his hair where the knife had sliced its way through.

Tobirama's eyes narrowed further, his grip tightening around the hilt of another kunai he had, positioned for quick release. "Izuna," he said, his voice cold and measured. "What brings you to our compound at this hour, have a death wish perhaps?" He stood up slowly, removing himself from against the tree’s rough bark, his movements deliberate as he stepped out from under the tree's canopy into the moonlight. His crimson eyes bore into Izuna's with an intensity that could rival the sharpness of his very own blade.

"You know trespassing is forbidden," Tobirama continued, his tone unyielding. "Especially for the likes of you." He took a step forward, closing the distance between them with calculated precision. The air around them felt as though it would break under the tension as Tobirama assessed the situation, poised to defend but also curiosity piqued about what had driven Izuna here tonight.

“Tch. I was minding my own business, y’know…when you decided now was a good time to almost take off my ear!” He complained as he matched Tobirama’s movement and pace, coming closer, whilst running his fingers through the thinned spot in his hair just above his ear.

Tobirama's expression remained stoic, his eyes never leaving Izuna's. "Minding your own business, you say?" he echoed, clearly skeptical of the young man’s words. "Or rather, spying on us?" He moved forward again, adamant on shrinking the space between them. The moonlight cast long shadows behind them as they faced off under the night sky.

"Your clan has been quite restless lately," Tobirama started, his tone firm. "I can't help but wonder if this is just another attempt to gather information." His hand tightened around the kunai in his sleeve, he wasn’t hasty to draw it, hoping to avoid a confrontation that could escalate quickly.

Izuna clicked his tongue, “Restless not, I would like to consider it being more wary…and what else would you expect, our gates were greatly damaged recently, not to mention many of our crops and trees were torn down and claw and bite marks riddled them to pieces…it has forced us to suspect you Senju are conspiring with a new summons possibly?” He tilted his head in inquiry. “Either way…what ever you’re plotting would not succeed, besides I didn’t come here to confront you, Senju.”

Tobirama's intense stare hadn’t let up in the slightest. "Wary, you say?" he repeated, his voice cold and calculating. "And here I thought your clan was always on edge, what a shame to think you’ve grown even more circumspect of this ordeal." He took a step back, giving Izuna some space but not relaxing his guard.

"As for your silly accusations," Tobirama continued, his tone hardening. "The Senju sees no purpose to conspire with any summons or engage in such petty tactics, that’s more indicative of a Uchiha’s strategy, in my opinion." He paused for a moment before adding softly but firmly: "But if you truly came here not to confront me…then what is it that you want?"

“Whatever you say, Tobirama.” Izuna smirked, letting the man’s quips and casual jeers to his clan slip down his back like water on a duck.

“Ah yes, about that…I was just passing through like I said…minding my own business. I just happened to notice you from behind the gates. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you’ve held up your guard regardless…but since when do you happen about at night like this? Something on your mind? Perhaps you’re the restless one rather?” His smirk only widened, and his eyes bounced with mischief.

Tobirama's expression stayed within its stoic routine, his eyes never leaving Izuna's. "I could afford to ask the same," he replied coolly, no hint of emotion. "But since you seem so interested in my whereabouts, I'll indulge you this time." He took a deep breath before continuing:

"I often find myself here at night to clear my head and think about the future of our village. It's peaceful here under this tree." His gaze shifted momentarily to the large, old oak before returning to Izuna. "Unlike some people, I don't need to cause trouble or spy on others just to feel alive."

“Excuse me?” Izuna quirked an eyebrow, clearly offended by the man’s words. “Are you insinuating I’m some kind of troublesome miscreant?”

Tobirama's eyes narrowed, but his expression remained composed. "I'm not insinuating anything of the sort, you’re filling my mouth with your own words," he replied calmly. "I'm merely stating a fact based on your actions tonight." He took a step back, giving Izuna some space but maintaining his watchful gaze.

"If you truly were just passing by and minding your own business," Tobirama continued, his tone measured and deliberate, "then why have a burning need to approach me, especially with our history? Why not just continue on your way?" His red eyes bore into Izuna's.

Izuna grit his teeth, “Maybe because you attacked me without reasonable cause for it! What if I had been a fellow clansmen within the shadows? Would you have acted so hastily if you realized that?”

Tobirama's expression remained stoic, his eyes never leaving Izuna's. "My actions were based on the situation at hand, simple," he replied coolly. "You were lurking in the shadows, and given how…ambiguous our neighbors are, I couldn't take any chances." He paused for a moment before continuing:

"As for your hypothetical scenario," Tobirama said, his tone unyielding. "I would have assessed the situation more carefully if I had known it was a fellow clansman. But in this case, you chose to reveal yourself by approaching me." He folded his arms across his chest.

Izuna scoffed, “Are you trying to pacify the situation with that line of reasoning? You’re quite something else, Senju. I’ll give you that. Tch…” He looked around. “It’s rather…quiet tonight.”

Tobirama's expression remained unchanged, his eyes locked onto Izuna's. "I'm not trying to pacify anything," he replied evenly. "I'm simply stating the facts as I see them." He glanced around briefly, taking in the quiet stillness of the night just as the other did.

"Yes," Tobirama said softly, almost to himself. "It is quiet tonight." He took a deep breath, savoring the tranquility that seemed to envelop them under the moonlight. "Perhaps we could both use a moment of peace amidst all this chaos."

Izuna lifted an eyebrow yet again. “Ah but you know what they say: Chaos is a law of nature and order but a dream of man.” The Uchiha folded his arms mimicking the other man, letting his arms warm up underneath the thick material of his robe, and away from the biting cold that seemed to deepened as the night progressed.

Tobirama lightly scoffed, "Chaos and order," he mused, his voice low and thoughtful. "They are indeed two sides of the same coin, don’t you think?" He glanced up at the moon.

"But even amidst that chaos," Tobirama continued, "there must be some semblance of order to maintain the careful balance." He took a step closer to Izuna, their faces now inches apart under the moonlight. "And it is our duty as leaders to ensure that balance is maintained."

Izuna had scrunched up his face at that, making a point to step back, renewing the space between them, clearly put off by the man’s invasion of his personal bubble.

Tobirama's expression remained stoic, his eyes never leaving Izuna's. "Apologies," he said, though there was no hint of actual remorse in his voice. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He took a step back, giving the younger man a reprieve.

"But let us not forget," Tobirama continued, his tone hardening slightly. "The balance we seek is not just for our clans alone but for the entire village."

“Tch…apologizing? Since when do you do such things, and to an Uchiha at that? I wish not to seek any balance..At least not until I solve a few things that have…caught my attention…” he narrowed his gaze, eyes following the man. He couldn’t help the suspicions he garnered for the Senju. With the strange string of events that had unfolded over the course of months, he just knew Tobirama had something to do with it. “I will not be pacified by some false claim to seek peace when our compound has been ravaged and half destroyed by whatever beast you’re controlling.” He spat out. It was no secret that the Senju had ties to…a particular thing, or rather…creature. Of course Izuna was trying his hardest not to deal his one hand but ever since Hashirama had married that young hellion of a woman, Mito, establishing a alliance between them and the Uuzmaki, it was no surprise that rumors started that the Senju may be conspiring with them to have access to the Nine Tails, Kurama.

Tobirama's eyes narrowed further, "False claims?" he echoed, his voice frigid. "You accuse me of things without any evidence or proof." He took a step forward, closing the gap between them once more. The tension between them was palpable as they stood under the moonlight.

"As for your suspicions," Tobirama continued, his tone unyielding. "I assure you that we have no such ties to any creature that would cause harm to others." He paused for a moment before adding softly but in no way sound submissive: "But if you truly believe otherwise…then perhaps it is time for us to settle this matter once and for all."

It would have been rather convincing to anyone, the way Tobirama cooly explained himself and defended for the innocence of his clan, however Izuna knew the man all their lives, and he refused to let this spun tale convince him otherwise. However, it was late, cold and Izuna was growing tired by the chilly atmosphere and the ever more so ice cold man before him. He would quiet the burning fire in him…for now. “Whatever, Senju…since you’re so adamant.”

Tobirama's expression remained stoic, his eyes never leaving Izuna's. "I am not one to make empty promises or false assurances," he replied evenly. "But if you choose to believe otherwise, there is little I can do or say to change your mind." He took a step back.

"For now," Tobirama continued, his tone softening more. "Let us focus on finding solutions rather than more complications."

“Hmph…right. You do that. I’d rather not waste my time trying to solve a mystery when the answer stands so blatantly in front of me. But I digress..” Izuna had pulled out his low ponytail, letting his hair fall around his shoulders, providing a majestic sight when the moon casted upon him, almost ethereal.

Tobirama took him in, but schooled his expressions. He refused to play whatever game Izuna was cooking up. "Very well," he replied coolly. "If you have no further business here, then I suggest you return to your compound and focus on the matters that truly concern you." He took a deep breath, savoring the tranquility of the night and pushed off the small moment of intrigue of the dark bangs that curtained Izuna’s soft face.

Izuna grinned as he fixed his hair, tucking away the split pieces before finally securing into a ponytail yet again. “Right. Good night, Tobirama.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

Tobirama watched Izuna's retreating figure for a moment before turning his gaze back to the moonlit sky. "Good night, Izuna," he murmured softly, though he knew the Uchiha wouldn't hear him. He took a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill his senses as he pondered over their conversation.

Despite their differences and long-standing rivalry, there was something oddly calming about having this brief moment of understanding with Izuna.

Yet, after he left, the itch came again, reminding him though he was a forthright and honest man, tonight, he lied straight through his teeth.

-

The next morning came and as sun broke the surface and beautiful colors awoken in the sky, Tobirama rose from his slumber, he’d noticed he had been sprawled across the covers rather than beneath them like he usually was but he chalked it up to restlessness, something that had plagued him for the past few weeks. Given the immense strain between clans lately, it was nothing surprising for his insomnia, teeth grinding and tossing and turning every night.

As he straightened and stretched, he noticed a strange texture in his mouth, prompting him to wretch, coughing as he spat out bits of leaves and twigs that had wedged between his teeth.

“What in Kami’s sake…” He quickly moved to his open window and spat out of it, though the awful earthy taste remained.

Tobirama's eyes narrowed as he examined the bits of debris that had regurgitated, an alarming sight that he had no context to add to. He couldn't figure how the hell a situation like this could present itself in waking, let alone in his sleep.

He moved away from the window, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before heading towards his small basin filled with water he kept for early morning on the table. Splashing some water onto his face and then into his mouth, he tried to wash away the lingering taste that clung to his tongue stubbornly.

"This is becoming too much," Tobirama muttered under his breath as he patted his face off with a towel. He glanced out at the rising sun casting its warm glow over their compound and sighed deeply before deciding: "I need answers."

It became painfully obvious that something was transpiring with him…lately, he was feverish, yet at times freezing cold, his skin itched and prickled, and like this morning, sometimes he would awaken disoriented and bone tired, like he overworked his body in an unusual way. This was beyond his regular insomniac episodes…

Tobirama stroked his chin as he pondered over his recent symptoms. He had always been a man prided on his logic and reason, but these strange occurrences were beginning to test even his patience.

He needed to consult with someone who might have more knowledge about such matters. Someone who could give him a rational explanation rather than think he was slowly losing his mind. He was even tempted to ask one of the clan elder…as stubborn and old fashioned as they could be with most matters these days…

With his mind made up, Tobirama quickly dressed himself down into his blue kimono shirt and a pair of dark trousers, tying a black obi firmly around his waist before heading out to the main hall where meetings and discussions with clan members and allies from different villages were held.

For a split second as he walked down the compound’s main path, he wondered if these symptoms manifested as a physical representation of some guilt he held…could it be possible he was feeling conflicted over what was happening with the Uchiha? “Ridiculous…me garnering sympathy for them, that’s rather preposterous to even consider of myself.” He had to lightly chastise the intrusive thought.

Tobirama shook his head, dismissing these silly notions as quickly as it had appeared. He scoffed, after all; emotions like guilt or sympathy had no place in his decision-making process. The Uchiha were their rivals, and any conflict between them was simply a part of the natural order of things.

He had to remind himself that he needed answers about his strange symptoms, not pointless introspection over feelings he didn't even believe he possessed for their rivals.

But that determination, that mission he had planted in his mind, quickly dissolved to nothingness when he approached the main hall, where confrontations broke out, everyone seemed frantic and amongst the elders and some other clansmen was his elder brother face to face with Madara. His eyes narrowed and his blood boiled when he saw the raven haired man, who had the audacity to scream in a blind rage on their property of all things.

Tobirama's hand moved and tightened around the hilt of his kunai as he watched the confrontation unfold between his elder brother, Hashirama, and Madara Uchiha. The tension in the air was palpable, looking quick to escalate if the wrong action chosen.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before stepping forward to intervene. As much as he despised Madara and every single thing he stood for, Tobirama knew that allowing emotions to cloud their judgment would only make matters worse. They needed to find a peaceful resolution rather than resorting to violence or further conflict between their clans.

“Admit it, Hashirama!” He growled. Tobirama had considered it slightly repulsive in a way.
“Your clan is up to no good! How the hell do explain this?! Our shrines were torn down last night, ripped from the ground, no mere man could have achieved such feats! Now is your time to spill your admissions! What summons are you working with?!” Madara bellowed, teeth bared and anger evident in his dark eyes.

Tobirama listened to Madara's accusations, eyes trained onto to how his brother was handling such bold claims. He knew that their clan had been under suspicion lately, but this was taking things too far. Without letting anyone have a chance to react, he stepped forward, his presence commanding attention as he addressed the heated confrontation between his elder brother and the enraged Uchiha.

"Madara," Tobirama said, his voice cutting through the tension like what his blade would soon do to the Uchiha before him. "We have no need for such tactics or alliances with any summons." He glanced at Hashirama before continuing: "Our clan values peace and cooperation above all else."

Hashirama hadn’t spoken just yet, his eyes held a glance of sorrow, perhaps heart stricken by what his friend thought them to be the blame for.

“Don’t take me for some fool, Tobirama! If you think we would sit on our hands as you try to play some innocence card! We’re fed up with this disrespectful and blatant disregard for our own properties!” Madara was practically foamed at the mouth.

Rabid dog. Tobirama thought to himself, clear disgust for it.

Tobirama's grip renewed at his weapon as he stared him down. Should he throw caution to the wind and draw his blade? Madara had that wild look in his eyes, unpredictable yet Tobirama could calculate what he may do simultaneously. Tensions were at all time high and he wasn’t sure if he should take the leap and strike an impending tirade.

He knew his brother could hear the gears turning in his mind, watched as his fingers curled on his hilt, itching to make a dire mistake.

“Tobirama!” His elder’s shout stunning him into a moment of submission, eyes shot to his burning and begging gaze. “Please, do not escalate the situation more than it already is.” Hashirama warned, his warm brown eyes radiating with worry.

Tobirama's grip dropped as he heeded his elder brother's warning. He knew that escalating the situation further would only make matters worse, but it was difficult to remain calm in the face of Madara's accusations and hostility.

"Madara," Tobirama said evenly, attempting a steady voice despite the anger boiling within him. "We understand your frustration, but we assure you that our clan has nothing to do with these incidents." He glanced at Hashirama before continuing: "Wouldn’t it be more productive to put all this intense energy into a solution rather than an altercation?" He inquired.

Madara's gaze shifted to Tobirama, a flicker of caution passing through his own darkened eyes. He had never been fond of the younger man, the person who represented the decades of malice towards his people, a bitter representation that still rubbed him the wrong way despite the clans’ attempts to garner a truce, and now, his disdain was at its peak.

"A solution...You speak of solutions, but history will always be at my back. What guarantee do I have that your words are true, hm?” His brow raised, held carefully and waited patiently.

His voice was laden with distrust, each word hanging heavy in the air between them as he scrutinized the Senju clan member closely.

Tobirama's gaze challenged his with unwavering determination. "History may haunt your decisions," he replied, "but it is our actions in the present that will shape our future." He took a step forward, closing the gap between them slightly.

Madara took notice how he crept forward, the space between them growing smaller...smaller... until they were almost nose to nose. That Senju... always so quick to act.

"As for guarantees," Tobirama continued, his tone firm and unyielding. "We can only offer you our word and commitment to finding a peaceful resolution." He glanced at Hashirama before adding softly but firmly: "But if you choose to believe otherwise…then perhaps it is time for us to settle this matter once and for all." That renewed desire to clash with the man rose up in him.

"Your word? You expect me to believe that? When you can't even accept the fact that your own clan was responsible? Don't make me laugh...you might as well spit in my face while you’re at it, it would be more respectful in my opinion. Your word means as much as air.” Madara was fed up with being taken for a blind idiot.

He scoffed at the Uchiha, "My word," tired and patience thinning, "is all I have to offer, take it or leave it."

Madara's eyes flashed with dangerous intent as he listened. His hand mimicked Tobirama’s, cradling the hilt of his sword, ready to settle this once and for all.

"Very well then...Let us settle this, since you’re so eager to die.” He snapped. The Uchiha was fully prepared to attack the silver snake before him, despite the many witnesses and even to be so bold as to initiate the battle on Senju soil but as he was ready to brace himself to lung forward he had an arm pushed in front of him, halting his intention. Hashirama looked with an air of disapproval from where he was ready to interfere.

"Enough!" Hashirama's voice boomed, cutting through the tension of their little squabble like a knife. He stepped between Tobirama and Madara, his presence commanding attention as he addressed the heated confrontation.

"This is not how we solve our problems," he continued, his tone firm and unyielding. "We need to work together, not against each other." His warm brown eyes bore into both men with such an intensity that Tobirama quickly understood the deep consequences of not heeled to it.

Madara's hand froze at the sound of Hashirama's voice. His gaze flicked towards him, a mixture of irritation and respect in his eyes.

"Hah...You want peace and trust? You want us to join hands and march together into the sunset?” He mocked through a tired sigh, and removed his hand from the hilt of his sword.

Hashirama's eyes softened slightly as he met Madara's gaze. "Trust is earned, not given," he replied evenly. "But if we truly want peace and cooperation between our clans, then we must start somewhere." He glanced at Tobirama who seemed just as skeptical of it all.

*Madara's expression remained stoic. He had to admit that, even if begrudgingly, the Senju was right. He let out a frustrated grumble and ran a hand through his dark tresses.

"Fine...We'll do it your way. For now." He gave Tobirama a sidelong glare, before turning back to look at Hashirama.

Hashirama nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Thank you, Madara," he said softly. "It's a step in the right direction."

Madara let out another sigh and rolled his eyes. He hated the very idea of working with the Senju, but he trusted Hashirama's judgement...mostly. He crossed his arms over his chest.*

"I'll hold back for now. But if another one of those incidents happen, I won't be so patient." He shot a warning glance towards Tobirama.

“I’ll be watching…” With that, he retreated, making a point that he had no more time for cleaning up
messes.

Tobirama's eyes narrowed as he watched Madara retreat, but he said nothing. He swallowed dryly, exhausted and worried over growing suspicions and the lack of transparency on either clans’ part, they were the blind fighting the blind.

He glanced at Hashirama before speaking, “Anija, I have some concerns to speak to you about.” He said lowly, keeping his voice to a low volume as many of the clansmen who had been in the surrounding area during the confrontation were starting to slowly calm and disperse.

Hashirama tilted his head slightly, noticing the serious look on Tobirama's face. He gave a few farewells to some surrounding villagers before leading Tobirama to a quiet corner where they could talk without being overheard.

"Of course, what is it that you need to talk about?" he asked, his voice as warm and gentle as always, though with a touch of concern.

Tobirama glanced around to ensure they were alone before speaking. "Anija," he began, his voice low and serious. "I've been experiencing some strange symptoms lately - fever, disorientation, even waking up with leaves and twigs in my mouth." He paused for a moment, already hearing how ridiculous it sounded.

"At first, I thought it was just stress from the recent tensions between our clans…but now I'm not so sure." His red eyes met Hashirama's, just a touch a fear in them. He had never felt so…frightened over something until now, as unshaken he carried himself.

“Not to mention..all of these situations occurring on the Uchiha compound…I’m wondering if it’s connected somehow…”

Hashirama was always a man that was quite easy to read, even despite his best efforts to prevent such, Tobirama would be able to catch the underlying misdirection with his expressions.

Hashirama carried agitation. “Nonsense…that doesn’t sound right, Tobirama. I highly doubt you feeling a touch under the weather has anything to do with the misfortunes that befall the Uchiha.”

Tobirama had huffed in disbelief over his brother’s patronizing manner.

“If you ask me, you’re simply coming down with something, which would not be surprising given you’ve spent most nights outside in the draft and dusk.” Hashirama continued pointedly.

Tobirama's eyes narrowed down to death, irritation aside of his brother’s poor attempt to assure him, his brain swarmed with thoughts, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this than his elder brother was letting on.

It was too peculiar…the strange pattern of destruction only targeting the Uchiha, how every morning after such incidents occurred he woke up restless, sometimes sick, sore and even sweat-drenched.

He hadn’t thought much of it until his morning when he had literally spit dirt and gravel from his mouth. Just after a night where the Uchiha compound was freshly ground up and destroyed yet again.

He had a deep pit in his stomach when the realization started to form, swallowing away any peace of mind he could ever have managed.

“Anija…don’t take me for a fool…it’s…” he turned over his pale hands, feeling rather bizarre, wondering if he was crazy to think…

His hand went to his abdomen, clutching at the fabric tightly.

Hashirama watched curiously and quietly for a moment, his expression growing slightly stern, though a hint of concern still remained. He noted Tobirama's unease, the way his hands reached towards his stomach was not lost on him.

He paused for a moment, weighing his words carefully before speaking.

“You think what? That somehow you’re responsible for whatever is happening to the Uchiha?” He spoke plainly, letting his brother hear just how far-fetched it all sounded. “Is that what you’re implying?”

Tobirama's eyes narrowed again as he met Hashirama's gaze. "The compound was torn up Hashirama!” His angered statement held simmered to a whisper as not to alert others around them. “Dug up like a pack of wild dogs got in there…bite marks on the trees…and coincidentally I’m greeted with debris spat into my morning basin after stripping my teeth of it! Dont be so ignorant to obvious things, Hashirama!” He chastised him, spitting out his worry, his anger and more importantly his guilt.

It was a hard pill to swallow but nonetheless he must bear the bitterness of the harsh reality. The beast was breaking free somehow…

Hashirama held his ground against Tobirama's outraged words, his expression remaining unperturbed despite the evident intensity of which Tobirama demanded his attention to the issue.

He sighed, before holding his hands up in a placating manner.

“Tobirama if I’m assuming you’re referring to…that. It’s near impossible…we’ve taken many precautions to prevent—“

“It’s hogwash! I should never have let you convince me of this outlandish endeavor…and for what? Simply building more alliances in other clans? The only reason I had agreed was because…well,” he huffed, hating himself for being so foolish at the time. “…I thought it would prevent the Uchiha from taking an opportunity and rising up against us…”

He grit his teeth, “But now I see it clearly…” he sighed out, clenching his fist and continued to sink his other hand tightly against his own abdomen, wanting to break the skin. “I should have never become the host for the Kyuubi!” He snarled with every fiber of his being.

Hashirama’s expression was stony, despite Tobirama’s harsh tone. After a long moment of silence, he sighed deeply, his face betraying his troubled mind as he watched Tobirama’s distress.

“Tobirama, I know it’s hard to grasp but..it’s not you. The beast was sealed away—-“

He broke off, his eyes narrowing as he glanced down to where his brother was clenching his abdomen now painfully so.

“..Please, brother, stop that you’ll hurt yourself…” He tried to pry his hand away from where it held a death grip, almost as if Tobirama was implying he wanted to rip the beast from himself. Which would not have been far off…

Tobirama reluctantly let Hashirama pry his hand away from his abdomen, but the look of frustration and anger remained etched onto his paled face. "Anija," strained through gritted teeth, "I don't know what to believe anymore." He took a deep breath before continuing:

"But if there's even a chance that the Kyuubi is somehow affecting me or causing these incidents…then we need to find a way to stop it." His shaking crimsons met Hashirama's dark gaze, pushing his demand.

Hashirama was torn between wanting to remain calm for his brother’s sake and yet frustrated that his best efforts to placate him were falling on deaf ears.

“And how do you suppose we do that?”
He tried to keep his voice level. “If by some off chance the Kyuubi is responsible for whatever is afflicting you…you know as well as I do that short of killing you, there is no way to force the beast out.”

Tobirama's huffed “Mito.” Annoyance in the name. He was civil with her most of the time, but he had to learn to love her as a sister in law with her…ideals, and the fact that his situation was of her own doing didn’t do her any favors in putting her in his favorites category.

“We need to go to her. After all, it was originally hers and her father’s idea in the first place! They should have realized how dangerous of an endeavor this would have become, despite how skilled the Uzumaki are at sealing…”

Hashirama sighed at the mention of his wife. He frowned, his eyes growing dimmer.

“And what makes you think she could possibly have a solution? If even the best sealers in the Uzumaki clan couldn’t prevent the beast from making a nuisance of itself…Mito is highly skillful and a fierce woman of her craft, the best of her generation…it’s one of the reasons I fell for her, but I don’t know if she..”

Tobirama's eyes narrowed again, glaring daggers. "Anija," he said sharply, "we have no other choice, now do we? It’s their mess that they need to clean up. Point blank.”

"If there's even a chance that Mito might know something or have an idea on how to help…then we need to at least try." Tobirama had to convince himself it was the right course of action, hell, it was their only damn option at that point, and despite his anger over it all, he was willing to put his trust in her to assist. “Now let’s go!” He demanded, as he snatched his brother’s wrist and dragged him almost like a parent hauling away a petulant child.

-

Meanwhile…back at the Uchiha compound, Madara was pacing back and forth for the past half hour, at this rate he was bound to make an indent in the flooring with his constant, anxious pattering about, “Those Senju will not make some joke of us! The hell that they think we would just lie back like powerless fools while this chaos continues! Having to pick up the pieces of problems they have caused!” He briefly glanced in his brother’s direction as if to signal for his input.

Izuna opened one of his eyes to look at his brother, from where he leaned against the wall, had been centering himself with calming breaths, and his eye glanced down to the back and forth pacing. Madara would make him grow dizzy with his frantic movements at this rate…

"..Brother, please calm down," Izuna said, a soft tone of exhaustion in his voice "I’m just as frustrated as you…but as you can see I’m not expending my energy by dashing about, like a chicken with its head off.” He reminded as his eye once more closed.

Madara stopped in his tracks, a hint of annoyance on his face. He turned to his brother and shot him a glare.

"Don't compare me to something so insulting, Izuna! My anxiety is warranted!”

His words held a hint of defensiveness. He knew that his brother was right, but he was too irritated to admit it.

A soft sigh left Izuna as he reopened his eyes, looking at his brother with a soft smile.

"You certainly act like one, when you’re angry," He said, there was no hint of teasing or any indication that he was speaking in a mocking tone. "..If only you would see how much stress and tension you’re putting on yourself, with all that unnecessary pacing, you’re doing…" he Joe chuckled lightly, playfulness finally peeked through.

“So have you managed to reach to some compromise over the issue? Maybe I should have gone with you…I know how you can get a bit ahead of yourself…especially around Tobirama.”

Madara huffed, rolled his eyes at his brother's remark. He knew all too well how he could get, he needed no reminder.

"I'm perfectly capable of handling those Senjus by myself," he snapped back. "Besides, I don't need you hovering over me like a mother hen."

“I never said that you weren’t capable of handling them, you silly fool..” Izuna said, almost a hint of amusement in his voice. “I only said you could get a bit ahead of yourself. You’ve always been hot-headed when it comes to those Senju…”

He started pacing again, his panic evident in his every step. But then he halted suddenly, bare feet braced on the hardwood beneath him and let out a sigh.

"Hashirama and I agreed to work together to find a resolution. But I-“ He looked away briefly as if he was in deep thought.

Izuna simply just raised an eyebrow at Madara.

He paused, as he observed his brother for a moment.

“What do you mean by “but I-“?

*Madara ran a hand through his prickled hair. He hated when his brother was right. He was a bit hot-headed when it came to the Senjus, but in this case…it was more than warranted, even deserved.

He got a wicked look in his eyes, his charcoal eyes danced with plots…revenge.

“Despite whatever plan Hashirama devises…I’m not going to follow suit like some mindless puppet…we will deal with this ourselves…” He shut his eyes briefly, as he let his words drift away from him momentarily. The air between the brothers almost like it stilled in anticipation for his continuity.

“No matter the cost.” His eyes opened again, flashing a full, striking Sharingan.

Chapter Text

Mito hummed softly, her calm demeanor a drastic contrast to Tobirama’s wincing and grunts of complaint as he was poked and prodded about his abdomen.

Her fingertips illuminated with her sharp chakra as she glided them over the now visible seal on his stomach. “Interesting.” She commented, finding it rather perplexing but fascinating all the same.

Tobirama's attention held completely on Mito, his eyes narrowed in regard, tangled up in wariness and curiosity. He was unaccustomed to having someone—especially a woman—probe and examine him with such intensity.

"Interesting?" he said gruffly, his tone laced with annoyance and mild discomfort from the poking and prodding. "Care to elaborate?"

Mito’s fingers stopped for a moment before resuming their movement against his stomach. She chuckled quietly as his eyes narrowed. His behavior mirrored a stubborn and petulant child, and the image made her shake her head lightly in fond amusement.

“Interesting.” She said again, her voice holding a hint of mirth. “The seal has cracked, not by much, but I definitely can feel the chakra flowing to the point of its compromised security.”

She finally moved her gaze, regarding her husband who stood nearby. “I’ve never seen something like this occur before, this seal is a one of a kind after all…practically a fortress of a restraint.”

Tobirama's annoyance grew, maybe more so from the feeling that she was speaking about him rather than at him, but his intrigue overrode it as she spoke to the state of the seal that rested on his abdomen. His eyes widened ever so slightly as he took the news, something constructed by one as deft as her, was broken. "Compromised how, you say?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"And what exactly would cause such a thing if you are implying this seal is practically infallible?" He could not understand the befallen efficiency of his seal, "And why was I not informed about this being a possibility at the time of you doing this?!"

“No need to glare at me, Tobirama.” Mito chided gently. Her fingers lingered over the edges of the seal, the pad of her thumb rubbing the outline of a cracked marking, drawing a soft hiss from him…such delicate destruction.

“As far as to why…there is not such a simple explanation. Many factors can be involved in the disruption of a seal’s ability to retain whatever beast or entity is within. Passage of time, age of host, the strength of the beast, even the type of chakra the host possesses can all have an impact on how well the seal performs.” She pointed out.

“Despite the fact that I have utilized the Eight Trigrams Sealing Style, for the ability for you to be able to control or manipulate the beast at some point, it seems the opposite is starting to occur.” She frowned deeply.

Mito’s head tilted as she continued to run her thumb over the damaged markings of the broken seal. “As for you being informed…well, it isn’t like it was a high possibility…this is quite the unique situation.”

As Mito spoke, explaining the complexities of the circumstance, Tobirama's expression remained stoic, but his demeanor shifted ever so slightly from annoyance to unease.

"Unique?" he repeated, his voice taking on a harsher edge as he considered her words. "What do you mean by that?" He tensed as her fingers traced the edge of the damaged markings, the weight of her implication settling heavily on his shoulders.

"And you're suggesting– “ he paused, the notion almost too outlandish for him to consider fully, “that I’m losing control?”

Hashirama finally cut in, his dark eyes heavy on his brother. “Tobirama…brother we’re not implying that you’re not strong enough to control it…don’t take it as an insult…” He could tell by his brother’s body language that he felt some sort of blame was put to him for his inability to hold the beast at bay that clearly wanted to run loose.

“No, no..” Mito quickly reassured, her hands leaving the seal to grip his shoulders, squeezing firmly. The last thing she wanted was for him to jump at the worse conclusion.

“I never said that. You have been in perfect control of the beast up to this point.” She paused. “But, I suppose that’s besides the point. What I am saying is..”

She pursed her lips, mulling over her next phrase. “The Nine-Tails chakra is becoming more dominant and potent. It is trying to break out. And it’s been quite some time now since I’ve known you, and your chakra is just as strong, perhaps the beast is riled up against it, and is becoming restless.”

Tobirama huffed, his shoulders slumping slightly under Mito's firm grip. He hadn't even realized how tense he had become until her touch grounded him, her reassuring words breaking through his thoughts.

His mind raced as he tried to process all of this information that dropped like a bomb onto his person. He was used to being in control, to being strong, and couldn’t fathom losing himself to this beast that should have known its place from the very beginning.

"Damned fox.." he grumbled, gripping where Mito still had her hand on his stomach.

“Language, please.” Mito tutted and lightly patted Tobirama’s fingers away, the frown evident in her voice. Though such a subtle piece of vulgarity that she knew the man was not one to do, she still chastised.

Hashirama chuckled, his hand going to rest on top of Tobirama’s head, ruffling his soft locks as he used to do when they were kids. “There there, it isn’t the end of the world, brother.” He joked.

Tobirama's retort was cut short as Hashirama slipped his fingers through his hair, the motion so familiar that it made him freeze. His usual gruffness softened for a moment as he was reminded of their childhood.

"Hmph."

"You're one to talk," he grumbled back, swatting his elder brother's hand off his head with a scowl. "It's easy for you to say when it's not your body we're discussing."

“Perhaps…” Hashirama’s hand retreated, but his grin never left. He was enjoying the banter, it brought the nostalgia of their youth back.

Mito hummed softly, her hands still flushed to Tobirama’s skin, her fingers gently tracing the markings.

“Do not be so tense, Tobirama. This is just the first step towards figuring out what is going on. It’s no use fretting about it too intensely. We will figure something out.” She reassured gently.

“However there is still an issue playing on my mind that I’m still don’t quite understand…” She commented, her brows drew in, from worry.

"And what is that?"

Tobirama's voice was guarded, his eyes flickering over Mito's thoughtful expression. He didn't like the look of concern on her face, it only fueled the anxiety that was starting to bubble within him.

He forced himself to remain still as her fingers continued against the ruptured parts of the seal. The visual was a constant reminder that the thing he had been so adamant holding back, was growing bolder, more powerful.

While she continued her thoughts, Hashirama tilted his head, his eyes narrowed on her. Mito was not one to hold fear on her brow much, he could only imagine what held her so pensive.

“Mito, my love?” He finally asked, his voice drawing her out of her thoughts, her fingers finally ceasing any further movement on the seal.

She sighed, “Well, a few of these incidents occurred, correct? However why is it that the Uchiha had not defended themselves while it was happening? At this point, shouldn’t they expect this to happen? Why was no one on guard and more importantly…why has no one been able to identify what has been attacking? Was no one awake at the time? I find it all so bizarre…”

Despite his own worries, Tobirama's attention was piqued by Mito's questions. She had a good point, one that he hadn't considered in his own worries about the situation.

"I... hadn't thought of that," he admitted, feeling rather foolish not to have such a thing cross his mind. "Normally the Uchiha are on high alert, especially when it came to anything that may imply Senju tactics. It's suspicious that no one was around the first time, or the second... or the third..."

He paused, his expression hardening. "Unless—"

“Unless…?” Hashirama repeated, he hung on his brother’s word, his eyes glancing at Tobirama. His own thoughts slowly piecing together the same thoughts that were running through Tobirama’a head.

Mito finally pulled her fingers away like she’d been burnt. She could sense the tension. The thoughts now shared by the men around her.

“Unless…they had been incapacitated in some way…” Her words, though said so plainly almost had an eerie undertone to them.

The air in the room suddenly grew heavy as the implication of Mito's words sunk in. The thought that the Uchiha had not been able to defend themselves because they had been intentionally compromised was unsettling to say the least.

Tobirama's mind was already racing with possible scenarios, all of them unpleasant.

"If that's the case..." he said slowly, his voice low, "then we're looking at something far more serious than just the seal being broken. This is an attack. A calculated one."

Hashirama swallowed hard. These kinds of situations rarely ever occurred. He had thought everyone had been at peace so far.

He could feel Tobirama’s annoyance and tension as the other man grumbled. His own agitation slowly rising. To think that all of this could be some sort of attack. It almost seemed impossible.

“We will have to look into this more before we come to any kind of decision, before we…make a rash move that we would regret.” He said firmly, his voice leaving room no room for argument. His mind drifted back to Madara, the rage in the man, it just may be completely warranted.

"Agreed," Tobirama said, a hint of irritation in his voice. "I'm already frustrated enough…I can’t fathom what is transpiring.” What the hell happened those nights?

He let out a loud huff, crossing his arms. "We need to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible." His gaze turned to Mito. "But first, do you have any idea how to fix this...situation with the seal?"

Mito placed her finger and thumb to her chin, a frown on her face as she pondered upon his question. She could feel the irritation coming from Tobirama in waves. There wasn’t ever an occurrence that he wasn’t annoyed in some way.

“I’m not entirely sure if I can fix the seal, not yet…but….I do know of a way to keep it stabilized and back to holding the beast in check.” She began, her gaze flickering up to his.

“I know it’s not the ideal solution but it would buy us enough time to investigate what’s happening with you and the Uchiha. Though I must prepare you…it will be a bit unpleasant of a procedure.”

Tobirama's irritation was momentarily quelled. A way to stabilize the seal, even if not a full fix, was better than nothing.

"Unpleasant how, exactly?" he asked, hesitation present but not dared to say fear. He wasn't sure how much more "unpleasant" things could get at this point, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.

Mito hummed as she tried to find the simplest wording. Tobirama wasn’t known to be one who would particularly be keen with these kinds of things, and he’d no doubt dislike it.

“Well..” she started, “We’ve already confirmed that the beast’s chakra is becoming more powerful inside you….”

Her words were slow, she wanted to prepare him. He wouldn’t explode in anger, he never did, but he would probably have a few choice words.

The more she spoke, the more he felt a sense of dread wash over him. What was she about to propose?

"I'm well aware of that fact," he grumbled, his voice edged with a hint of annoyance. "Get to the point. What's this 'procedure' you have in mind?"

“Patience, Tobirama.” Mito chided gently, her eyes narrowing. She found no interest in any brewing demand.

“Since the beast’s chakra has begun to saturate your body, that means your own chakra would have to battle for dominance as well to offset the imbalance between the two energies.” She explained.

“The easiest option would be to bind your chakra to its in some way. Initially when the Nine Tails was sealed within you, we made it a priority not to allow your chakra to intertwine with its own, given how parasitic the energy is, however, by doing that, I believe we may have allowed the fox’s chakra to reign too freely, now we have to ground it again, however at your expense. The most efficient and effective way is to have a chakra fusion.”

Tobirama let it roll through his mind. Binding his chakra to the Nine-Tailed Beast's? It sounded dangerous. And rather uncomfortable.

"A chakra fusion, hm?" he repeated, it sounded rather uncouth, the first he’d heard of it, honestly. "And you're sure this is the only way?" He didn't like the idea of allowing the fox's chakra such access to his own, but if it was the only way to stabilize the seal...he’d have to bite his tongue on the matter.

He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white from the tension, he didn’t even allow her to answer, or give him another option. "Fine. Do it."

Mito could sense his distaste, but she could also sense the acceptance as well. He observed his tense gaze, his desire to fight but ultimately relented.

She nodded her head slowly, a reassuring smile graced her lips. “I will need you to lay down fully again.” She said gently, lightly pushing in his shoulders to get the man back into the horizontal position again.

“This will hurt quite a bit, so please do try to remain still…though I feel in saying that, is a fruitless endeavor when it comes to you in particular….

She then regarded her husband, “I need you to prepare yourself as well, my love. It may get rather…loud in here with your brother..”

Tobirama grumbled under his breath, but he obliged, laying down. What was she implying? That he’d cry like some helpless infant? Tch.

Holding onto that feeling of being lightly insulted. "I can remain still, you know." he said, his voice dripped with irritability.

Hashirama chuckled, his amused tone didn’t do much for Tobirama’s dislike that was slowly gaining momentum. He couldn’t help it. He was only teasing his brother after all.

Mito shared her own mirth at both Tobirama’s grumble and Hashirama’s amusement, her hand finding his, giving it a subtle squeeze before she turned her attention back to Tobirama. “Forgive me, Tobirama. I guess old habits die hard.” She joked as she stood over him, hands splayed and hovered over him.

Tobirama was really starting to regret allowing them to handle this situation at all.

A blue aura engulfed her palms, the intensity of the energy thrummed and whirred and curled around her fingers in a beautiful glow.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, his voice grumbling as he settled himself. The idea of her poking and prodding around the seal on his stomach again didn't exactly fill him with excitement.

"Just get on with it."

Mito hummed in acknowledgment to Tobirama, her concentration now all on the task at hand, she had to be careful and precise as threads of chakra peppered against his ivory skin. Though she could feel Tobirama’s tension tearing into the air again, she could feel it was a bit less, the man was doing his hardest not to be difficult. Not that it was really enough to actually make a difference.

“Remember to breathe...” her voice was a soft whisper to him.

Her hands finally touched down onto his skin directly with a soft thump, the seal margins glowed brightly, soaking in her energy…her will to weave away the torn marking, her eyes pierced in deathly focus.

"Hmph," Tobirama exhaled, he shook a little, worrying his lips as the cool sensation poured over him, it was rather odd, but wasn’t painful…yet, he supposed.

"This had better work..." he muttered between clenched teeth.

He wasn’t given much time now to adjust as he felt the first sharp pangs shoot into him, he might as well had been stabbed straight with a kunai’s cold edge, it might have been less harsh opposed to this. It amped up from zero to a hundred in only moments, forcing him to clench his fists and grind his teeth. Kami why did he ever agree to have this blasted creature put inside him he would never know…

Mito could feel the tension throughout Tobirama’s entire body as her ministrations began, she watched his clenched teeth, so tightly, it was almost worrying he’d break them, but she couldn’t fault him for it, it wasn’t like what she was doing was a frolic through a meadow.

“It will work. Just bear with me.” She reassured as she continued.

In between the clenched teeth, words of protest and irritation began to escape him. But any attempt to speak was cut off by grunts and sharp intakes of air as he did his best to fight against the pain that was steadily growing in intensity.

It felt so…different now, like something was crawling inside his body, pulling and trying to burst open for freedom…

He felt raw, exposed…and a sudden drop into despair…fear.

"You and your..." he managed between gasping breaths. "Warning... I should kill... you..."

The pained threat came out of nowhere but surprisingly, Mito was not phased by it in the slightest.

Tobirama wasn't one for swearing, but there were plenty of words that he was tempted to use at the moment. He did his best to hold his tongue, for Mito's sake. But for some reason, he felt that inhibition was starting to slip away.

Mito’s calm, composed demeanor had burned into a frowned, displeasure written across her features, yet had escaped away quickly and replaced with a small grin in the face of realization. Well well, what a feisty fox you are.* She thought.

Hashirama wasn’t as coolheaded as his dear wife however, and before time he found himself fuming, his hands grabbed onto Tobirama’s squirming ones, and forcing them down, to heel to his anger.

“Tobirama—how dare you-!”

“Don’t. It’s fine.”

She interrupted her husband’s intervention, not bothering to glance in his direction. Her attention solely focused on his brother in front of her. She was rather fascinated by the turn of events.

“You…meddlesome woman!” He began to snarl, his hands curling and pulling against them. “I really should consider killing you…” His red eyes stared death into her, bored into her very soul, now holding an unrecognizable expression as those red irises popped with a roaring fire.

“It seems Tobirama has disappeared for the moment. Is that right, Kyuubi?” She inquired, knowing that the demon was slowly channeling its self through him.

A twisted smirk slowly began to spread across Tobirama's face as the pain faded and a feral, almost cruel attitude replaced him. The once pained and aggravated signature of Tobirama’s current misfortune now replaced with this strange ferocity.

"You're much smarter than your useless husband, aren't you?" he taunted, his voice bathed with a guttural quality to it.

"You're quite perceptive to realize you're not speaking to him anymore."

“Of course I’m smarter than him, I have to be.” She responded with a hint of sass in her tone. She wouldn’t deny that her husband was intelligent in his own right, however she was far more pragmatic and reasonable than he was.

“And it’s not exactly hard to tell when you’re not speaking to Tobirama, you’re much more….rowdy than him.” She quipped back, a smirk on her lips.

Hashirama would have considered himself insulted had he not been completely consumed by his confusion of the situation, shocked right into silence as he watched the exchange.

The Kyuubi chuckled under its breath, the sound deep like Tobirama’s usual tone, but with a ragged edge.

"Rowdy, am I?” It tilted its head, looking up at her with a curious expression. “Most humans are terrified when they speak to me, you’re an intriguing one.”

Its smirk widened as it shifted slightly on the table, making it a point to blanch his hands, claws flaring out dangerously enough for Hashirama to quickly release his grip, shook and retracted away as not to get slashed by them. The Kyuubi let out a little wicked laugh at that.

“You’re rather calm for someone dealing with a demon inside the body of your dear friend.”

An amused chuckle escaped her at the fox’s remark. A small smile graced her lips. “I’m not a run of the mill human, so I wouldn’t expect you to understand my reaction to you.”

There was a gleam in her eyes as she met its gaze once more, her hands stayed steady and still despite the fox’s clear attempts to intimidate her or rile her anger.

“And I don’t consider Tobirama a friend. He’s more of an insufferable family member to me. Besides, I find you to be far more interesting to speak to.”

Ah, now that comment made the Kyuubi laugh out loud. If anything, it appreciated her sharp attitude, her lack of fear and her almost humorous attitude even towards something as powerful and feared as the Nine Tailed Fox.

“Insufferable, huh? I feel the same way about him,” it responded, thrilled at being able to talk to someone like this.

“You have a point.” She replied, humor in her tone.

The Nine Tails hummed in mild interest, shifting on the table until it fully was sitting up and staring straight at her, yet to stop her from her work.

“You have a name to go along with your sharp tongue?”

She raised a delicate eyebrow. Perhaps the fox wasn’t so bad to converse with, if anything, it was quite refreshing compared to the many clan members and friends she had conversed with before.

“My name is Mito, Mito Uzumaki-Senju to be exact.” She responded, her tone had a lilt to it.

The Kyuubi considered her name, mulling it over in its mind for a moment. "Mito," it repeated, testing the syllable on its tongue.

“A rather pretty name for a rather powerful woman.”

It paused for a moment then sneered a bit as he nodded to Hashirama who stood behind. “And you are married to that oaf of a man? You could do better, you know.”

Hashirama might as well had smoke erupt from his ears, completely livid at the insulting manner of which the demon took. It didn’t ease the anger seeing the sick smirk decorated across his brother’s face of all people. He stepped forward but was halted by his wife, who pushed him lightly off, flicking her wrist to cool himself, she had to focus here.

Mito had almost laughed at the Kyuubi’s response. Her amusement and interest slowly grew. She didn’t expect such commentary from the fox, however it seemed she had found a hidden gem.

“And yet you call him an oaf.” She said pointedly, her tone laced with amusement.

Her gaze shifted to the man who was stood next to her.

“If you call him an oaf, what do you consider your host?”

As Hashirama brooded in the background, the Kyuubi’s sharp smirk only grew larger. It seemed a little too pleased with itself, though it didn't seem to notice how angry it was making the other man.

"A burden, a nuisance, a pain in my side," the demon rattled off of a mental list it held for its feeble host.

"He's strong and cunning, but he's also so damned stubborn and his temper is just-" it let out an exaggerated groan, rolling its eyes.

His words had confirmed her suspicions, though she kept her playful manner, the entire time she soaked in the demon’s words, trying to pick apart its motive to want to stir up trouble.

“He does indeed have a short temper.” She agreed. Her fingers began to move again, this time, they moved with purpose, her fingers pushed down hard onto the black curve of the marking.

“But, you have a point…You must be rather bored being contained for some time in this body of his.” She observed, keeping an eye on the demon.

The Kyuubi winced at the resumption of her actions, its gaze flicking down to her fingers for a few moments, it wanted to lash out but…for some reason, it couldn’t quite manipulate this body to do so. It internally huffed.

"You have no idea. Your husband's brother is a miserable bastard with no joy in his existence." It sighed, feigning dramatics.

"I’ve never quite met a human so immersed in his own thoughts and feelings. And that delicious suspicions he holds in his heart…why this means that what I plan to do, will be considered a favor for him.” He chuckled lowly.

That final sentence had indeed piqued her interest. How curious.

“A favor, you say? And pray tell what favor is this, where you must tear away at him slowly, you’re trampling all over my handiwork, I worked hard to make that lovely seal on his stomach.”

The fox suddenly erupted in laughter, harsh and sharp as the fangs that had grown into Tobirama’s mouth shone at them.

“The Uchiha of course. You married into the Senju, so I’m sure you’re aware of the strife amongst them; even with their feeble attempts at half-assed peace. I must say, Tobirama has done a great job masking a good bit of it, but he still despises them…and let me also say, I share a similar sentiment.” His tongue darted out and licked at his lower lip.

“So naturally, I’m only assisting…let the Uchiha hurt…suffer…then perish.” His voice dripped, with massacre on his mouth.

She hummed lightly. Of course, as she should have expected. The demon was the one lashing out like this…Tobirama’s suspicions were correct, she would give him that.

“Hmm….I see…” Her eyes narrowed slightly, though no malice was held within them, more so, concern was now evident in her eyes.

Hashirama’s eyes widened at the Kyuubi’s confession. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Tobirama held animosity towards the Uchiha….Yet the Kyuubi’s confession held far more severity than anyone could have imagined. If Madara found out…

Dressed in outrage, Hashirama moved forward again despite his wife’s warning. “So it was you! You wicked, selfish demon!” He accused, spitting his raw, unwavering distaste onto him.

The Kyuubi's sharp gaze snapped over to the infuriated man, its glare piercing and a strange, deep growl emanating from its chest as it stared the taller male down.

"And what are you going to do about it? Threaten me?" it taunted, a mocking tone, fluttering teasing and cruel enjoyment as it leaned forward. "It's obvious you don't dare strike your brother while I'm here…so why don't you be a good boy and sit down?"

Hashirama's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his temper in check, but it wasn't an easy task with the Kyuubi before him, pushing and challenging him to act. As much as he hated it…the fox was correct, he wouldn’t dare to attack him whilst inhabiting Tobirama.

"You really enjoy provoking me, don't you?" Hashirama's words drip with venom, his body trembling with barely suppressed anger.

At the man's clear, barely contained agitation, the Kyuubi’s gaze glinting with glee, as though it was relishing the opportunity to truly torment him.

"Very much," the Kyuubi responded, its words dripping with that same, almost playful venom. "You make for such easy prey, dear ‘brother’.” He openly mocked. “And you have no idea how much I'm enjoying tormenting your beloved younger brother while he’s squirreled away in here. Especially the face he makes in such discomfort."

Hashirama's eyes narrowed, his lips pulling back in a snarl.

Hearing Tobirama's voice spouting such words was like salt being rubbed on an open wound, fueling his fury and pushing him to his limits.

"You think hurting Tobirama and goading me is amusing?," Hashirama seethed, his hands shaking again. "I won't let your taunting work, Kyuubi.”

He leaned in ever closer, rage still consumed him and though he would never lose it so much as to strike his innocent brother who laid as a puppet to the demon’s will. He wasn’t above shaking him up a little. He reached down, grabbing two fistfuls of Tobirama’s shirt and hurling him until they were mere hairs apart as he sneered into his face, “Release Tobirama immediately, I won't let you torment my brother any further!” Screaming right into those eyes that no longer sparkled in Tobirama’s confident red, but nefarious blood stained.

Mito was ready to step in, she was doing so well to get the fox to speak his intentions but the emotional ire and desperation that poured off her husband was standing in the way, “My love, please!”

The sheer audacity of this man seemed to thrill the Kyuubi even further as it laughed at Hashirama’s attempt, not one once of worry nor fear as he stared daggers right back.

"I'm not tormenting your precious baby brother," it mocked. "I'm just borrowing his body-" he was abruptly cut off as one of Hashirama's fist tightened, threatening to rip a hole in the dark fabric he clutched so harshly.

An almost feral sound escaped the demon’s chest. If it had been in its normal form, it would have been an ear-piercing hiss.

Hashirama glared into the fox’s eyes, holding him firmly in place. The laughter and mockery was growing tiring, it was only serving to feed his anger further.

"Borrowing his body isn’t torment!? Forcing him to experience helplessness as you control him, forcing him to watch you act against his very being isn't torment?"

His grip tightened on Tobirama’s shirt, giving him another small shake.

“Hashirama!”

Mito yelled firmly, finally turning her gaze on her husband, her eyes sharper than any kunai.

“Let him go.”

The words were firm, but despite them, Hashirama held his grip, not willing to stop until the demon relinquished his hold on his innocent brother.

“Hashirama.” She repeated, her tone heavy, leaving no room for any argument. If he wasn’t willing to listen, she would personally force him away.

Hashirama finally relented, dropping his hold, the Kyuubi's body fell back against the cold table with a soft thud, but it easily recovered as it straightened up, its body returning to the same lazy, almost slouch, as before.

"What do I want?” It responded, almost as casually as if it were discussing the weather. "Revenge.” The word was said so calmly, so matter-of-fact, as though it wasn’t the most dangerous threat in that room. Tobirama’s fingers curled into a fist, those ragged nails that had grown out at the time of the Kyuubi’s appearance, scraping the table. “I won’t be resting easy until I get what I want and don’t want to hear you complain when entrapping me in this measly Senju body was your plan from the beginning!” He growled.

“Revenge? But…why are you going after…?” Hashirama asked, still on edge.

Mito, on the other hand, had calmed down, yet her expression remained stony. She hummed quietly as she finished her task, a sense of pride had filled her, as she slowly skated her fingers around the seal, chakra lightly pouring…trying to seal the cracks…though, her work wasn’t through yet. They had yet to even begin the chakra fusion, though she realized it wouldn’t happen with the fox actively possessing his body.

She took a step forward. “The Uchiha, obviously, you want their heads on a platter?” She inquired, an eyebrow raised as she looked down at the demon.

The Kyuubi’s gaze moved over to Mito, its amusement increasing at her words, a glimmer of interest in its eyes.

"Yes, that sounds just right,” it agreed, it's lips curling into a sinister smile. "The Uchiha are my main target indeed. But you’re incorrect to think you know what I want. It's a bit more nuanced than that." The smirk grew slightly. "What I desire will transpire slowly...I want suffering, despair, watching them cling to their pathetic lives until they’re no more. And the Uchiha will experience exactly that," there was an almost satisfied glint in its eyes. “How delicious it would-“ his body stiffened suddenly and the fox howled in discomfort, the seal was tightening.

“Damnit woman how dare you-!“ his voice cracked and for a moment it seemed Tobirama’s hair grew a little less wild, his sage marks weren’t as chaotic, a slight flicker across his eyes…less angered crimson, and more so, pained, softer…

Tobirama was coming back slowly.

She looked down at the seal as the severed bits of markings had been mending slowly, forming themselves into one whole pattern as it was previous.

“I understand your desire of suffering…to have them pay for whatever wrong they’ve done to you.” She agreed, although she wasn’t quite sure what the Uchiha had done to provoke the demon in this way. She glanced up, her gaze landing back into the now crimson eyes.

A small grin crossed her face as she realized Tobirama was returning to normal. Her work was not in vain.

The Kyuubi snarled at her, “You may be sharp, might be able to…” he was cut off, his own grunts of pain spoiled the threat that wanted to fall. “…interfere with my effect, but this silly little seal will only hold for so long…but for now..” his eyes, sharp animal pupils, started to round down, receding to a more human shape. “I’ll let you have this moment.” the demon uttered before silence gripped the room.

As both Hashirama and Mito traded glances then trailed down at the weakened form of Tobirama, Tobirama blinked a couple of times, regaining himself as his head swam. There was a dull, throbbing pain in his stomach and he grunted of annoyance as he rubbed a hand across his face.

"What happened?" He asked, his voice hoarse and deeper than its usual timbre. "Mito? Hashirama?” He frowned as he looked between the two. He felt…strange…cold, exhausted, and confused.

"Tobirama!" Hashirama instantly rushed to his side, crouching down to his level as he rested his hands on each of his brothers shoulders, "Are you alright?"

His eyes flickered over Tobirama's form, checking him for any external wounds, examining his hands and fingers, noticing those terrifying claws had vanished, before he moved to rest his hand on the back of Tobirama's neck, a look of relief and care clear on his face.

Mito was looking on, visibly relieved that Tobirama had returned to his own consciousness.

Tobirama waved a hand at the concern, shifting slightly against the table as he let out a soft groan.

"Yes, yes I'm fine," he reassured his brother. "I feel…well my head aches," he muttered, rubbing his neck and feeling the warmth that was emanating from his stomach. It was tender, the pain almost like that of having gotten your muscles torn, except he didn't remember doing anything to exert such.

"I don't suppose either of you care to fill me in?" he asked, his expression almost expectant as he turned to face Mito specifically.

Husband and wife shared their gazes again, exasperation, exhaustion and still much uncertainty poured off of them. Where the hell do they begin?

Chapter Text

Wet paws pound onto the drenched grass of the dark field, heavy ragged breaths huffed out into the pitch black of night. Clear fear…desperation fell from the panicked, frenzied being. Get away, get away! He’s coming…closer….

Eyes up, vision seated into the large waxing gibbous. He jumped the gun, an escape with no power behind him. You should have waited for the full moon…careless.

Dash through the bush, turn quickly, dodge, around the trees, over their snaking roots, you know this terrain, feel it in your bones, on your paws, claws have buried here before, but he’s moving just as fast…

Just don’t look back…don’t give him a moment to peer back into your soul that’s scarred, broken, and easy to bend to his will despite what he’s already done…before you..

Betraying the rule set out upon yourself, just for a second, a hair’s time to dance in the wind, stared back into the red spiral, mimics the same color of your blood that was about to be spilled upon the land.

Tobirama screamed, lungs quake under its own capacity for such loud painful shrieks as he shot up, drenched cold from sweat that soaked his body right through to his futon as he was forcefully yanked from whatever pure hell his dream had become.

His teeth ached, and felt fire through his gums as he keeled over forward far enough for his forehead to bury against the damp fabric of his blanket.

Hashirama had immediately burst into the room, Tobirama could just barely move to acknowledge him, but quickly felt arms circle around him, cradling him like an infant. “Tobirama, please…are you…” Such worried-worn words from Hashirama, Tobirama could do nothing more than wince at it. He felt so helpless, like some burden to be dragged about.

He felt himself slowly righted to sit up, a cool rag to his brow and Hashirama whispered rather dotingly, “It’s alright, I’m here.”

Tobirama weakly protested as he pushed the hand that held the rag to his head away. “Anija—“ he sighed ragged. “I can manage—“ he didn’t need someone wiping his sweat or his spit, he could do fine just on his own, even if the pain took him far away from reason, it was his own baggage to bear.

Hashirama sat quietly by the edge of Tobirama’s futon, his eyes filled with concern and compassion, hands had moved to scrunch into the fabric of his hakama after having dropped the cloth back to the basin. He knew all too well that his brother was stubborn and preferred to handle things on his own, but Hashirama couldn't just stand aside and let him suffer in silence.

He let out a short sigh and his gaze never leaving Tobirama's. He hesitated for a moment before speaking, his voice soft and gentle, but by no means, did it come off as some feeble attempt to convince. “You don't have to push me away, Tobirama. I'm here for you.” He started, pointedly.

“These next few days will indubitably be harsh as we prepare but…” he unfurled his hand from his pants, reaching out for his brother’s, grasping the shaking palm. “You have to trust us. Mito and I-“

Tobirama pulled back, surprising strength in the offensive gesture, “You don’t get it, Hashirama—“ he cut himself off, gasping for air as he was yet to calm down after the shock and fright that riddled his body only moments ago.

Hashirama wilted, reached forward again, strangled by his need to help, do something. To watch your brother struggle, and hold on for dear life as he was ripped apart from the inside, a sheer nightmare that haunted him. Guilt hovered over Hashirama’s head at the thought, it was his fault after all. How could he have agreed? Let this…happen? He winced when Tobirama coughed and wheezed and fought to bite back the pain that drew across his features. How can his brother be so…cruel to him? Hide himself away when he was wounded like this?

And of course, their meddling hadn’t helped in the slightest. Maybe they shouldn’t have bothered the seal, despite its weakened state.

“I understand your qualms, Anija. But can you fault me for wanting to bear it all?” Tobirama had gathered his voice, as strong and intentional as he could muster as he dropped his hand from where it had gone across his lips, exhaling slowly but steadily, holding back the urge to heave.

“I chose this for myself, hadn’t I?” He questioned, the words lashed against Hashirama, painful as it may be, truth held fast to it.

But, he wouldn’t lay down like a witless dog to accept the fact. “Not without our insistence, you hadn’t!” Hashirama practically bellowed, always one to push his voice over him, despite having his moments to heel to Tobirama’s will and his logic, Hashirama’s passion for his own care, concerns and right to protest, always managed to speak literal volumes over Tobirama’s quiet fire.

“You would never had accepted hadn’t we spout those words into your ear. Butter you up…Mito’s father had, speaking of how stable and righteous of a man you were, how you complimented my need to lead a village we built together…how he would be proud to welcome us both into the fold.” Hashirama’s voice broke.

“How he expressed concerns if Mito had gone forth to be the next jinchuuriki, how problematic it would have been for the seals later on for when she would decide to conceive and birth an heir for me.” He practically whimpered the last word.

Tobirama hadn’t interrupted, not a single word came to battle against Hashirama’s profession. His gaze had dropped again however. Away from the sharp edge of vulnerability between them. Bared naked.

“You’re always behind me, Tobirama. Perched like a safety net attached to my back, shielding me and waiting if I slip, but pushing me to where I need to go despite me being the older one, the one who has to lead everyone, who is supposed to lead you. Yet you…” His eyes fell shut, squeezed tight for a moment.

“Always want to stand in the line of fire. Now, because of your persistent need to treat yourself so aimlessly, you now bear weight from my failure to protect you.” He weeped, tears scrunched but leaked down from his slightly opened downcast eyes.

Dead silence aside from Hashirama’s quiet sobs, Tobirama glared death into the tatami mats. “Weeping for me?” He started, well-nigh to a mocking tone, which wouldn’t fall false on him, given how hard of a time he always gave his elder. Quickly, however, it completely evolved into just that.

“You act like…a child, still.” He spat.

The sudden blurt prompted Hashirama to look through teary eyes, confusion evident and frown deepening, the long strands of brown hair hanging against his face only exaggerated the stricken look.

“Why does it matter now, what should have happened and what hadn’t? Crying over your guilt for a choice I made, as if you hadn’t watched me choose you over myself time and time again.” He sighed.

“Tobirama…” Hashirama begun, but Tobirama glared up at him now, fire in his red.

“No! Shut…up!” He demanded, through a rasped voice, but held its ferocity in its own way.

“It’s like we’re children again, isn’t it? When Father struck me across the face anytime I showed myself, even for a minute, to let him see that he had more than one son who he can count on, when we both walked on the river by the chakra in our feet, when we both struck our katanas in just the perfect way at our training dummies, despite my nattering of how I’ve already learned to do what he planned for our lesson each day, he still turned his back, pretended I couldn’t be a candidate to his twisted regime. So I did what he did…” he clenched his fist tightly.

“I gave my hopes to you.” He spat again, words curled up in a bitterness yet, the way Tobirama had intended them contrasted it as he poured the warm favor he held to his brother in that moment.

“And I…will do it. Each and every damn time!”

The proverbial bubble bursted wide open, scared and quiet thoughts torn free from its battered cage. Tobirama cared no longer to let his brother make a victim of himself whilst lain on a path of gold. “So quit your bawling, Anija. Understand that we haven’t worked this hard, gone through all this strife just for you to backpedal by the ridiculous need to coddle me, who isn’t an infant.”

He fell quiet after his vent of frustration, huffing then taking in a deep enough inhale as he could manage, before settling, his eyes falling back down again to his blanket, before closing them. “The chakra fusion…will happen. We all had agreed to it, and yes, I agree with you in the anticipation of things growing difficult but—“ he scowled and opened his eyes again, no longer scorching flames in them, but an assertiveness that solidified he was no helpless invalid.

“Do not try to hold my hand.” And as to make emphasis he made the gesture to pull both hands tight into his lap, kissing his stomach, from away where his brother’s seemed to want to skate forward to grasp them again.

Hashirama listened intently to his brother's angry outburst. His heart burned and ached with every word, a sharper pierce than any blade could ever muster. He wasn’t so foolish as many would think and despite his outward carefree and wishful ways, he knew the deep pain and resentment that Tobirama held inside himself, the hurt that had simmered beneath the surface for years.

Yet, Hashirama supposed he’d pushed aside that fact as they’d grown older, and as life changed, their responsibilities and accountability to each other naturally did as well. He quaked in his own awkward missteps, where his inner younger self cried out, cradling his own heart whilst berating the folly of his own choices.

Hashirama let out a deep sigh, his expression softening as he wiped at drying tears upon his cheeks.

"I'm not trying to coddle you, Tobirama." Though he knew he lied to himself.

Hashirama respected his brother’s wish for space when he noticed the shift in demeanor, how closed off he presented himself, and obeyed, not trying the hold his hand again.

"I just worry about you."

Tobirama huffed, looked away, eyes trained on the opened window of his room. He knew what Hashirama insinuated. A chakra fusion wasn’t exactly…a reassuring procedure in its creation.

Despite the risks—expect it of him to have stuck his nose in a book quite soon after Mito presented the option to him, even in his weak, sickly state, who was it to stop his incessant need to understand the stakes of his circumstance—the fusion was the correct course of action, other things falling short and to the way side that couldn’t come close in comparison.

But he had to calm his wilting brother, the soft, yet hell-wrung expression look he gave him, told Tobirama that if he didn’t say this, Hashirama would not yield to him, and stay buried in fear. “I am not the Kyuubi, regardless of what you think will happen…like you had said, trust Mito…and trust yourself…Hashirama.”

He had faltered before addressing his elder by name, something that had become extremely rare in the years they’ve lived and experienced each other. And he knew the enormous difference between that and simply regarding him as his Anija, how Hashirama will…break under it.

Hashirama was bathing in his conflict, caught between his worry for his younger brother and Tobirama's plea for trust, smothered by impossibility to act.

The idea of the chakra fusion still filled Hashirama with so much doubt, and concern of what could go wrong. But as he looked at Tobirama, his resolve wavered.

Already cracked at the seams and broken down by Tobirama’s unrelenting need to reassure, when
Tobirama's choice to address him by name, instead of the usual affectionate term, hit Hashirama, it was harder than he had expected. It was a stark reminder of how tumultuous their relationship always was. And it was enough to choke him into submission yet abject shame. Hashirama had done what no one had expected him to do.

He fled from the room.

Tobirama blinked wildly initially as he watched after him, eyes bored into the back of Hashirama’s back as the man slipped out of the room in such a hurry. Though he held a neutral face now, Tobirama’s own inner child called in somber, “I’m sorry.”

-

The next three days had become Tobirama’s personal hell, where he laid curled up and, shaking like a leaf, bedridden to his room and not much he could do but occasionally sip on warm chicken broth and be tended to. So much for adamantly regarding himself independent and strong enough not to be taken as some helpless child…

Hashirama flickered in and out amongst him whenever Tobirama was awake and conscious, which was becoming less so. He’d even lift his head from the sweat damp pillow from time to time, every time he woke, feeling out for Hashirama’s chakra signature, sometimes he could feel the familiar, loud flare of it, and sometimes…not. He had to realize his brother still had to carry on his normal responsibilities, keeping face for the both of them, regardless of how badly his elder would prefer to remain glued to his side. It would do no good had both the Hokage and his advisor simply vanished for days without explanation, after all.

In times for which Hashirama couldn’t worm himself next to his beloved younger, Mito had taken up the task. Tobirama seemed a tad finicky about that situation. Sometimes when the man woke, he grumbled in upset when he felt her changing out the damp cloth on his head after the previous one had grown warm. “Where’s Anija?” He muttered. Mito would tut and push him back to the futon as it looked as though Tobirama often acted on auto-pilot in his sleep-drunk, sick-dazed state.

“Hush now, he’s away, Tobirama. The only thing you need to concern yourself with is resting in order to gain enough strength for the fusion in a few days, alright?” She hummed as she wrung out the towel in the small water basin near him and then refreshing his forehead with the new cloth.

Tobirama let out a dissatisfied grunt, his brow furrowing as he felt the cold cloth being gently placed on his forehead. Although he did not have the energy to fight Mito when she pressed him into the futon, he let out a sigh in displeasure.

Anija… is busy… and I’m here sick. he thought as a frown tugged at his lips. He had never been fond of being stuck in bed. It amplified his uselessness.

He stayed silent but his displeasure was clear.

Mito simply smiled softly yet sadly at the mixture of frustration and understanding that dripped off her brother-in-law.

“Don’t work yourself up into a state of antsy over it, Tobirama. You know Hashirama must maintain relationships, you two were in the middle of negotiating some revised contracts with the Nara and Yamanaka clans, after all. He simply cannot postpone that for days on end for this. You of all people realize that. Especially with all the commotion between us and the Uchiha lately, the new migrating clans are a bit…restless about Konoha as it stands.” She noted.

Tobirama gave a tired sigh, his frustrated features softening upon hearing Mito’s gentle reassurances. She was right. The Hokage couldn’t take a week off without explanation. And his brother was a well loved Hokage… he didn’t want to tarnish that reputation out of concern for him, and further more, not burn or inhibit alliances to be formed in his little crisis.

He knew it was a silly thing to be upset about, but he had always valued his time with his brother. He sighed again and nodded, accepting his fate to spend a few days more without Hashirama’s constant presence.

“For the time being however, I’m sure I can pick up his slack.” She let out a playful chuckle.

But despite the lightening she tried to bring to the atmosphere, she realized she would just as quickly tamper it by asking, “How have your dreams been? Hashirama had told me about the…night terrors.”

She was a little hesitant, not wanting to pry out a moment of vulnerability from a man who prided himself on staying tightlipped about such things. But she knew the Kyuubi must have been making him restless even in sleep, much like his waking life has been for the last couple days.

At the topic of his dreams, his brow furrowed once again. How… embarrassing. He hated being seen like this.

He was silent for a moment, deciding on whether or not to lie. Eventually, the weight of sickness and guilt to spin lies won out - he was in no mood for anything other than the truth. His gaze averted slightly from the woman in front of him.

“… I didn’t sleep well last night.” He replied quietly.

Mito leaned back, still knelt by him, with hands folded back into her sleeves and a thin line to her lips. “I see.”

She should have expected as much. It would be foolish to pray for the man to suddenly spill out his worries and fears to her like some babbling brook, even if she was married into their family for a handful of years now. She couldn’t expect to have received that level of trust from him as yet. But she knew what it felt like for him, he probably felt like a caged animal, muzzled and unable to…

“You don’t have to act so hard-bitten. It’s okay to—“

Tobirama’s features tightened. It irritated him. He hated the pity, the assumptions. The look in Mito’s eyes was just like his brother, and for a moment it made him tense up. His pride rearing its ugly head.

He wanted to snap, to growl in displeasure, to demand her silence, but with the way his body felt—so weak and tired—it seemed pointless.

“I… do not need pity. Nor to be mollycoddled.”

“Now, about the chakra fusion of I with this blasted Kyuubi. Walk me through your plans.”

He needed distraction, anything to tear away from the emotions that rose in his chest. She will not succeed in making him feel pathetic.

A little fire in her belly sparked, a little beyond her, but she felt that rise. “I am not— !”

Mito quickly held her tongue back into submission, she needed to remain composed and undaughted by Tobirama's stern reply, she continued in a firm but respectful tone, her dark eyes meeting his gaze with a cool dignity.

"Your feelings towards pity are noted, but rest assured, no pity was intended. Your role, as guardian jinchūriki, is critical. I’m not trying to take that away from you in an attempt to have you express your feelings.” She explained.

Her expression was one of understanding and resolve despite his harshness.

Mito kept her arms tight to her body, addressing his demands to discuss the fusion of his chakra with the Nine-Tail's with a composed expression. She recognized the need for practicality in this situation.

Tobirama felt a twinge of guilt for acting so sharp, but he pushed it aside. He refused to let his weakness show. The idea of someone worrying over him… it sent a wave of distaste over him. He didn’t ask for that, and he didn’t want it, either.

“Alright. My apologies.”

“Now will you walk me through your process? I am more than well versed in the theory, but I wish to hear the details.” Despite being as ill as he was, it wouldn’t do to go into a life or death process without knowing each step.

Mito simply nodded, recognizing his need to be on top and in control, as was so common with the way he carried a “top-dog” attitude. "Your apology is appreciated, but not necessary." She said, in a straightforward manner, accepting his character for what it was and recognizing his need for understanding. “Very well. The process of merging your chakra with the Kyuubi is not as complex as you may think, but it carries great risk. It will be an intense and demanding ordeal for both of us. It is crucial that we are both in ideal condition. Both of our minds and bodies must be at ease."

She paused for a moment, sighing.

You need to relinquish yourself of any inhibitions…you cannot wallow in any worry, fear or negative emotions during this fusion or it can spell for disaster…the Kyuubi feeds off these feelings, so when I have your chakra’s essence between my two palms, it has to be in its purest form…untainted by these afflictions or…

She didn’t want to think what could happen with him if he didn’t heed her warning.

“I understand.” he replied, his voice quiet but serious. Negative emotions…that was something he had been struggling with. His nightmares were proof of that.

He knew the stakes of this process. It seemed almost impossible to be in a completely clear state of mind with this blasted fox meddling with his mind, but…he had to try. Failure was out of the question.

“So, how is this process started?” he inquired. “Are the two of us to be completely alone together?”

Mito remained steadfast and composed, nodding in acknowledgment. The gravity of the situation was not lost on her. The fox inside him would indeed be a potential hazard, but she had faith in his ability to hold himself steady.

“Yes, well, ideally, however Hashirama should be present, his Mokuton would be invaluable to the process if you…how do I say…” she hummed, looking upon his tired face. “Well, if the fox is tempted to break free…” she explained.

But before Tobirama could comment, “However, I’m not too concerned as long as we all adhere to our roles, focus on the task, it shouldn’t be dire. Additionally, the environment must be devoid of any outside distractions or influences, and the only energy we must focus on is ours - mine, yours, and the Nine-Tailed's. That’s why I’m currently setting up a sealing room for us in the Hokage Tower.”

Tobirama closed his eyes and nodded. A sealing room in the Hokage tower was probably the most safe and secure option possible. Hashirama could be present too, which would ease his worries…not that he was looking for his brother to hold him close for reassurance. He grumbled at that thought that slipped into his head momentarily, and squashed it.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. As always with him, having a plan helped ground him. And this plan was very likely as good as it could be.

He knew very well how fickle the kyuubi could be. Nevertheless, he listens in as she took her time to dissect and break down each step to its smallest detail, from how long she estimated the process to what side effects he may feel afterward.

Mito observed Tobirama's acknowledgment and slight tension with understanding. He might not be openly showing it, but she knew his emotions were probably in a whirl, and that was natural considering his predicament. "Understandably, Tobirama, this won't be an easy process. You are already weary and weakened, and the merging will surely take a significant toll on body and mind. However, I am confident that we will endure."

Her tone was softer. “But let’s not throw all of our energy into the future just yet, the room still needs more time for preparation, Hashirama needs to complete the contract with the noble clans and you still need a few days to gain enough energy. After these things have met their demand, we will proceed. Now,” she reached over and lightly patted his thigh as a sign to snap him away from the topic. “Let me make some warming honey tea for you.” With that she stood from where she knelt, and carried herself to the kitchens.

His brow furrowed slightly, not expecting a comforting gesture like this. He knew she likely meant only to keep him grounded in the moment, but he still couldn’t shake a small sense of discomfort. He felt weak enough as it is…and he knew that would likely worsen soon with this merging.

After a pause, he sighed, accepting that his mind would wander no matter what the situation. He was far too used to being on high alert, something very difficult to shrug off. But he nodded, taking a breath.

“Thank you.”

-

The next three days had been bittersweet as they passed. In the wake of the final completion of the sealing room located just on the south side of the Tower, Mito had quite literally put her blood, sweat and tears into every inch of it. From where she had to cut her palms upon her kunai knife to smear markings and symbols across the large paper seals she had hung from the ceiling and that had lined the walls. Her efforts beaded and poured from her pores, the hard labor as she laid over old scrolls and books she had held in her possession all these years since her migration from Uzushio. The droplets of distress but mixed with triumph of accomplishing such a feat flowed from her eyes, dampening the shoulder of her husband’s kimono where he held her those few nights. She was scared, but by no means was she frozen solid by it.

Every night when she heard Tobirama’s weak coughs and groans from his room, when Hashirama would fetch a basin to his room to lightly wipe at Tobirama’s body, and her assistance to bring blankets to warm him, every ounce of pain and every heave and retch from the younger man only spurred her.

In Tobirama’s hurt, and Hashirama’s heartbreak, she would stare the Kyuubi in its eye soon enough and quell the armored rage within it.

The rage she first witnessed all those years ago with naivety, behind steeled bars wrapped in paper and symbols she had yet to understand in her young mind…

The Tower’s grounds were flooded that night in moonlight, the full moon hung ominously in the darkness as Tobirama had been led across the cold grass. He leant most of his weight against Hashirama, as his elder held him close with Mito following very closely.

“Hmph, I cannot wait to regain my own damn independence.” Tobirama had rattled off into their silence, breaking it.

It had been his intention to fill the quiet, and most definitely draw away attention from his labored breaths, since it had been past a week since he’d walked this much in his condition. He couldn’t let them keep running away with the idea he had truly become some invalid.

Hashirama tutted, wanted to pour out some chastisement but had…indulged a bit. “Yes, Tobirama. In due time, please don’t be so impatient, this process would be rather painstaking as it is.” He huffed, air letting out sharply from his lips as he gave him an exasperated look.

Mito only shook her head at the interaction, she kept up her pace from behind. However, gears turned in her head, thoughts bubbling up and she couldn’t help the wonder of how things will truly end here…

Sure, she was confident in her ability, she trusted her dear husband to do his part and knew Tobirama had heeded her earlier words, that he must remind steadfast in mental fortitude regardless of what hells may appear within the sealing circle tonight…

But why was there a little voice in the back of her mind whispering wariness to her?

They eventually made it into the grandiose room, the paper sealing was…overwhelming to Tobirama’s usual taste to such technique, and had he not already known better he may have questioned Mito’s choice to practically “paint” the walls in them.

Within the center of the floor, a large drawn circle, black and bold with symbols drawn and decorated along its outline, almost mirroring the same inscribed seal upon his abdomen.

He had quirked an eyebrow to her but had not bothered to broach a question, as he was escorted towards it. He made note of two solitary knee cushions laid within that circle, facing each other with only a few feet apart. Well damn, he would complain but then again, he had to realize that comfort was the last thing on the list of priorities of the moment.

As Hashirama helped to lower him down to kneel to the cushion and assisted in the removal of his upper layer of clothes to expose his abdomen seal, he couldn’t help but notice how the elder had gripped his bicep momentarily after Tobirama had settled. He glanced up, meeting the soft brown eyes that regarded him. “Anija…” Tobirama started, wanting to lightly dissuade him from any silly sentimental moment that was clearly trying to plant on the man’s mind.

Hashirama caught himself and quickly uncurled his grip from him, “Sorry…just, remember we’re here, okay? Whatever may happen.” He murmured as he now took turn to lead Mito to the neighboring cushion, letting his wife gently kneel before Tobirama, though she often didn’t find much need to be treated like a fragile flower, she appreciated the gentleness in which Hashirama always handled her.

“Thank you, my love. Now, please.” She gestured to where he needed to stand outside the boundary of the circle as she clasped her hands into the Tiger sign. “Get into position.”

Tobirama had held himself, poised, straightened back, as his eyes held on Mito, watching her eyes slide shut slowly and her hands held steady. A calming breath flowed out of her and he mirrored, taking it upon himself to pull himself into a similar state of tranquil meditation.

Slow. Quiet. He let the silence wash over him, and until he couldn’t take anymore, when it grew deafening, the air pricked his exposed skin and he exhaled what felt like an eternity after.

The sound of sudden unfurled, creaking wood, piling and plopping around him, forced him to open his eyes.

Before laid the prison of hardened, tightened wood manipulated into a small fortress around them, Hashirama’s doing, holding them two alone within, and Hashirama keeping firm from outside.

Tobirama had been waiting for that, knowing his brother would soon burst forth, wood beneath hand and determination on the mind…protection in his will…

Mito sighed, relaxed some, but remained concentrated as within the dimmed area for which the wood created, light bloomed, gold and soft and Tobirama looked on in awe, as the familiar chains sprouted forth from her body.

A few in number as they snaked forward, inching towards him, Mito opened her eyes and watched, giving Tobirama a few moments to watch, realize; prepare for it. Tobirama had never witnessed the sealing chains before, only read of it, and listened of what Mito had told him of the sealing technique. It had always fascinated him, yet he never knew he’d be on the receiving end of a jutsu of such prestige.

“Be present, Tobirama.” She quickly reminded him, not wanting him to stray with thoughts, as innocent as astonishment could be, could still pave the road to an ill circumstance.

“Focus..” she muttered, the chains trickled and danced forward again. “Remember to…” the glow became even more vibrant as they closed in.

“Breathe.” The chains shot against him, grabbing and swirling across his shoulders, his torso, his wrists and neck.

He winced and reflexively pulled against the binding, he knew she meant no harm to him, but it hurt no less when they dug into his skin.

The first grunt of pain erupted from his lips when the chains tightened, securing themselves to his body, glowing fiercely.

Mito grit her teeth momentarily, “Now I can…begin.” Tobirama’s body had inched that much forward, where’d he’d been tethered had created enough momentum and strength against them.

Mito pulled her hands free from the clasped hand sign, letting chakra flow freely into her fingertips until they glowed, a sharp hum.

“Go ahead…” she started, right hand moved forward, her chakra caressing the exposed seal, spurring it to glow similarly.

Tobirama grew dizzy, choked up under the ministrations, he felt like all what little strength he’d gained over the days wittle away from his body, draining and seeping into her fingertips.

“Show your ugly head. Aren’t you eager to…speak? I dare you to—“ She began but staggered when she felt the strong snap and pulse against her hand, as if she’d been shocked. She hadn’t pulled away but curiosity and surprise dressed her features, gaze moved upward just enough to land upon an exposed flared fang sitting smug against Tobirama’s open smirk. Wickedness leaked from it and it was easy to see it carried no trace of Tobirama’s personality.

“Meddlesome woman…” the snarl dumped upon her head, “Ask and you shall receive.”

Mito had not withered, her fingers had now touched the seal, she let her fingers rest and resonate against it, despite the Kyuubi rising to the occasion, slowly but surely, she was planning on its need to dominate the situation.

Her hand slipped through the barrier, burying within Tobirama’s body, and even if the Kyuubi had its own hands pressed to control, Mito had coaxed Tobirama’s chakra essence forward, holding tight to the end, grabbing dearly for life.

Tobirama’s body shuddered under the pressure, Tobirama no longer had any control, any command over his own self as she dragged him out.

With the essence came onto its coattails was one’s soul, slowly peeling out of one’s body like a nut from its shell would leave nothing but a lifeless husk, unless in such a unique situation, a secondary chakra housed its remnants.

The Kyuubi was quick, sprung into action as it maneuvered its potent chakra to fill a quickly emptying space.

Mito tried hard to be nimble, efficient and rapid, as she pried what was virtually Tobirama himself away from his own confines of his flesh, her other hand made a fast succession of singular hand seals. The chakra of her palm glowed brighter, a shaper edge, determined to burn her needed seal into the blue blur within her other palm.

The demon recognized its own impending doom, Tobirama’s pupils had lost its final breath of human likeness, consumed by animalistic rage, pupil stretch hair thin, irises bloodied to a richer red and the chakra emitting behind his essence spilled red and orange, curled and kissing onto each other in a terrifying display.

Kurama was here, and now soon to be in full possession of where Tobirama’s soul had bent out of his body.

Mito slipped, fingers agitated as a snarl groaned out again from him, slobber pushed from Tobirama’s lips, foaming from the mouth. “Do not dare to make us one!” Kurama belted, body pulling the chains, as red chakra circled over them, bleeding all over his restraints.

“Like a damned rabid dog!” She fired back, another set of chains shot out, dancing off the flare of her chakra. Her other hand ceased signs and gripped onto Tobirama’s essence. “Hashirama!” She pleaded suddenly. She knew her husband could hear, could feel the demonic power, the absolute rage as red fog flooded their atmosphere.

Hashirama had knew it before it burst forth, his fortress had doubled down, wood layer splintering and growing onto each other, hearing the rage beneath, while he had no ability to sense for Tobirama’s signature anymore.

“Tobira…” he interrupted his own whimpered plea…he couldn’t despair, not a single, solitary moment could he let a negative emotion flutter to the air, feeding an already wild beast, drunken on outrage and hungry for blood and bone.

“You cease yourself now!” Hashirama bellowed, eyes torn and burned in anger, his words spilling in time with Mito’s:

“Be still inside him!” She demanded. Her hand drove forth to brand Tobirama’s chakra, symbols formed and burned against her fingers, digging into its blue form.

Kurama wailed and spat, teeth completely bared and grown to a disgusting, snagged mess, eyes bloodshot and mindless as he was overwhelmed from both sides.

From the relentless painful chains that held him so fiercely it threatened to break the bones of its vessel, the red headed vixen searing her fingers into the essence that started to swirl into his own.

Wooden spikes had shot down, piercing into his shoulders, breaking skin and spilling blood, pulling wounded cries.

He couldn’t allow them to bring him to heel…in his eyes it flashed again: the petrification, being beaten into submission and farmed for his power, freedom relinquished, twisted into a sick, agonizing death of his true character. No more…

“Enough!!” The Kyuubi screamed, the sheer volume of the screech shook the walls of the wooden barrier, Hashirama had quickly righted his feet, not to be knocked off.

His chakra bubbled and sizzled like lava as it coated against Tobirama’s ivory skin, encapsulating his body like armor…

Mito frowned upon the sight, she still had her hands buried with Tobirama’s soul, her seal branding steadily yet as the red chakra boiled over against her, she screamed, the wretched sound tearing from her throat as her arms were scolded like they had been doused with boiling water.

She had pulled away, the overwhelming heat, made her fear for her hands, self-preservation had finally won and overtook her.

As she yanked away, she watched in horror as the cloak of red completely consumed Tobirama, her grip on his essence now gone but its aura had not returned to his body instantly, sluggishly dangling where it still laid connected to the abdomen seal, now intertwined with the fox’s bleeding chakra.

“What…impossible!” She cradled her blistered fingers, screamed back at the grinning man, the devilish expression mocking her as she looked down now, noticing bubbles of chakra merging and adhering to each other, morphing into a long tail behind him. Her eyes widened, voice gone, a cold grip of fear down her spine.

Dear Kami…

“HASHIRAMA!” She leaned forward as he bellowed with all her might but the fox moved quickly, the chains had grown crippled, dimming black and crumbling under the force of the potent chakra.

Kurama lifted his arms quick and snapped them upwards, breaking the chains away, cackling.

“Make no mistake…Mito…as I will no longer do the same…” he sniffed the air, flashing his gnarled teeth. “A full moon tonight…and this time…”

Claws erupted from fingers, blood dripping from the open wounds they’d caused on unprepared flesh, leaking down its palms. “I will finish what I’d started.”

Mito rushed forward, sent renewed chains from her body, just as Tobirama’s body fully swiveled towards her, the clawed hand coming up, swift and harsh, striking her across the face.

Blood splattered across the top and sides of the wooden walls.

Hashirama had tried his hardest, layered upon his fortress and freed one hand from the stance, making a hand sign just as—

As fast as a lightning strike, Tobirama shot and broke through the barrier, floating above Hashirama momentarily as he slowly soared above. Their eyes connected for just those split seconds, yet felt like an eternity.

Hashirama’s shocked expression absorbed, savored by Kurama who shot a wicked expression back, before gaining a second wind.

The demon shot forward on air, breaking through the very wall of the sealing room, concrete crumbing and breaking down around them and paper seals torn and fluttered through the air in the wake of where the entity once was.

Hashirama had been frozen to the spot, his eyes trailed, watching as his “brother” leapt through the hole and disappeared into the cold night.

He failed.

His one job…he couldn’t even complete, and they…

“Hashirama…” a weak voice emitted from the now broken fortress in the center of the room, which looked like a bomb had blasted through it.

Mito was on the ground, her crippled and burnt hand cradled the left side of her face, where blood poured and stained against her skin.

Hashirama panicked, his heart fell into his stomach as he was spurred into action finally, ran over the scattered bit of debris, wood and concrete to where his beloved laid injured.

“Mito!” Hashirama fell over her, smothered her with his fright and his large hands ran over her as he gripped her to lift her into a sitting position.

“My love, your face…I-“ he felt like his heart had been pulled from his chest and he’d been forced to watch it be strangled as he gazed upon her. Mito had slid her hand away, that side of her face had become a mangled mess, he highly doubt that she was able to utilize vision in that compromised eye anymore.

“Let me heal you!” He demanded, he reached for her face, intending to lay his fingers to her, manage what he could do for her when he—

Her face was wet. His brows furrowed as fingers traced the trails of droplets across her cheeks, water smearing into the drying blood. How is…?

He hadn’t realize for a handful of moments he’d been weeping over her. Weeping it just for her, however. Those tears also drained for Tobirama.

Sadness had wracked his body yet his fingers weakly held on.

“No…my beloved, please.” Mito pushed. Her right hand, though pain shot through her digits, it made her hold back the most intense of winces, but she managed to intertwine her hand with his, pushing it away, her one unscathed eye connected with his. “You must go after him, quickly! Before he kills and destroys…you know where he is headed…” her voice held such panic; a rariety of itself.

Hashirama was torn in two, half in want to tend to his wounded wife, and the other ready to burn his feet into the ground, to chase down the tyrant that has hijacked his brother for his own wicked regime.

Tobirama…

Hashirama had snapped his gaze from her, eyes trailing to the large, open hole that had been smashed into the building, he saw the darkness…the ominous glow of the full moon that shone back at them.

In a flash, he leapt out, his hands and feet braced his body onto the jagged concrete edges of the gaping hole as he peered out into the frigid night.

“Tobirama!!”

He yelled, his voice ladened heavy in anger for the maniacal beast and sorrow for a lost brother.

-

Tobirama’s body had launched forward, propelled with such speed and height from the ground, it was almost comical of a possibility but hadn’t fail to strike a display of an terrifying sight had anyone could look from below, to catch a glimpse of his silhouette highlighted against the bright beam of the full moon.

His wild hair danced in the wind, eyes glowed, teeth flashed as he sailed through the air and finally landed his feet into a tree branch to launch forward from, effectively smashing it with such force the tree crumbled under its strength.

He repeated this with each tree in line, leaving in his wake, a destroyed family of weeping mutilated brush.

Fast, enraged, dizzy with devilish intent as he kept moving.

It was different now…

No waxing gibbous hung uselessly in the sky as bared feet, hardened by crimson chakra and callous claws pulled from toes dug into the ice cold soil.

The night air was ripe and snapped with the energy that bounced off the full moon.

This time he would succeed.

He wasn’t running away from the red, rather, running into it this time around.

He will kill them, slaughter them all, and when their torn, bloodied bodies decorated the grounds of their precious noble little land, he will take his pleasure in ripping out and feasting on the eyes of the very man that started this all…

He will swallow the red spiral in all it represents.

-

Madara stepped his sandal forward, crushing the little flower that had laid in his path.

With little remorse of a pointless thing, he was sure Hashirama would have had his head had he seen the display…

Good.

He was riding off of the wave of anger he had bathed in and the sheer audacity in which the Senju had lied in his face.

Of course, he had to cool his head in some way, before he made further plans on the matter.

Trudging through the deepest ends of the forest always helped however he had no clue why he’d remained within village grounds, aimlessly walking at first until he realized he was trekking in the direction of the Hokage Tower.

He cursed himself but at this point, whatever worked to give him space to think and plot.

He wrapped the collar of his robes closer to his neck, feeling the air growing more unpleasant in its cold bite to his exposed skin. It might have been a tad too icy of a night to go on a stroll of all damn things but he’d prefer it over sitting on his hands like a fool in his study.

In the dark, he moved quickly.

Ricocheting off of tree branches like a ball rapidly flickering as it bounced off walls in a room.

Madara was quicker though.

His gunbai drawn from his back, thrown out to shield himself when he felt before he saw.

A heavy weight had landed against his weapon, pushing down and then leaping off, the loud sharping scrape filled the air, and he looked up, seeing the large deep claw marks against the previous flawless and polished beauty of his fan.

What in the world-

He swung again, knocking back his assailant.

Madara slipped back, into a defensive stance when the dark figure landed, dust erupted and ground shook.

The first thing he made out were eyes that seemingly looked not of this world.

Cold, malicious, out for blood and a twisted righteousness…like a mirror falling against his face, showing just how much alike it was to him.

Crimson eyes, pupil swallowed and pulled thin, like a wild cat…

What…

His eyes widened, as moonlight broke through the shield of tree leaves, spilling onto them.

The aura of bubbling red had caught him off guard, the first strike of curiosity wrapped in shock.

But what had sent the nail into the coffin of his confusion was when the light came across the face of the being, he saw the gnarly, darkened version of Tobirama, shirtless, bent down and contorted down on all fours, fangs brandished and claws splattered in blood and dirt. And…his eyes lowered on the man…

What was that emanating from his stomach?

His heart and mind couldn’t take it.

He was…he was…

Kurama grinned sickeningly, his eyes roved over Madara’s face, the tired stricken eyes, displeased droop of his lips, and flared nostrils. He reveled. Finally he stood before him, the excitement buzzed about his body, like lightning off a rock, he was almost consumed by his own mirth.

Snapped his head back and howled out as his claws dug into the earth. Crazy with glee he belted, “Tajima!!”

Madara had frozen, already lost to the confusion of the situation as it stood, but to have his Father’s name uttered by…

Grief overcame anger. Survival overcame surprise.

His gunbai poised in preparation and instinct kicked in.

If his suspicions were right; and honestly, it was glaringly so at that point, then from what he’d been taught, he sprung into action as the beast before him hurled itself towards him, wild, untamed, uncoordinated.

A flash.

A swirl to tame, to take the beast at the throat and to nullify.

The Sharingan spun its way into its introduction.

Kurama had become blind with desire, ready to leap to sink his teeth into the man’s throat. He wanted to snap his head off.

After all these years…brooding behind a cold, cruel cage. He had rested…rebuilt…recalled what he wouldn’t mistake himself to do this time.

The full moon was behind him, amplified him, as he jumped up to let jaws clamp down.

A thump of the heart.

Once.

Twice.

Then lastly to a third, when it thumped louder in his ears…and everything went silent as Kurama’s pupil had narrowed even more and froze like Tobirama’s body.

The red chakra drained away, sucked back and curled off stiff limbs and muddy skin. The seal had glowed as the chakra receded, the same flapping remnants of Tobirama’s soul essence that had been stuck there that had whole time, halfway through himself, had finally slithered back behind the black drawn symbols on his body.

Madara was breathing heavily, face pinched as his Sharingan remained.

With Tobirama’s body free of the aura that encompassed him, it was now…exposed, in more ways than one. Where the potency of the painful chakra had burned and eaten away at the remaining fabric that Tobirama had left to wear.

In the cold, Tobirama had been bared, much like a new babe from the womb as his body slumped forward; his eyes sliding shut and his face had hit the dirt.

Madara was only left with more questions. As he stared down; eyes scrutinizing pale naked flesh of a man that laid still and stiff with an involuntary raised brow that escaped him, and eyes that simmered back to charcoal.

Little had he knew his visual prowess had sewn the final seed of the end of a man and but created beginnings of a life of married misery.