The Ripples of Change (begin with the echoes of love)

by Reiya_Wakayama

Summary:

Mito has always been a creature of practicality and logic, very rarely allowing herself to dream of anything but her family and her home of Uzushio. The Clan Wars have been raging so long outside Uzushio’s borders and she doesn’t dare hope for change. When she meets the mysterious Uchiha Madara and his strange white hawk, her eyes are opened to a possibility of change…and of peace.

Notes:

• Inspired by Ladyhawke AU by Alasse_m

This is drawn from the 80s movie Ladyhawke. Go watch it, it's really good. I was inspired by Alasse_m drawing of a madatobi Ladyhawke AU and went from there. I would post a link but they took it down. Hopefully they put it back up. But still, here is the story. Enjoy. I took some liberties with canon to fit the story, but who cares. :D

The road is quiet as she makes her way down it. Normally, she would have taken to the trees and a more direct route to her next destination, but her chakra is low, her leg twinging from the burn she received in the last fight and right now, she needs to blend in with the civilian traffic also on the road with her.

Up ahead is her destination: Kaibun, a small trading town on the edge of the Land of Fire and the Land of Lightning. It’s not a nice town per say, but she needs to disappear for a bit to throw off unwanted attention and Kaibun is the best place to do so. The fact that she hasn’t slept in nearly two days and needs to find a place to hole up and tend her wounds is also a big factor.

Entering the city is easy, the guards looking for people that stand out, particularly those travelling alone. It’s simple enough to attach herself to a small caravan entering the city ahead of her, walking just close enough to be included in their group while remaining silent enough that they don’t notice her until she moves away once inside the high wooden walls of the city.

The inn she heads for is in the seeder part of town but they don’t ask questions and take her money without a second glance. Key in hand, she makes her way up the stairs, hiding her limp until the door is shut behind her. Pulling seals out, she places one on each wall, the door and the single thin window. With a trickle of chakra, her wards spring up around the room and for the first time in two days, she relaxes.

Hissing, she settles onto the thin mattress and lets her gear slide off her person. Reaching up, she slowly undoes her twin buns, her hair falling in waves around her face. The near constant ache of the tight pull on her head disappearing and she lets out a sigh of relief. Sometimes practicality hurts after a while.

Rubbing her scalp until it tingles with renewed blood flow, she reaches down and slowly pulls up her pant leg to get a look at her bandaged leg. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem to have bled through, the ragged scab still holding. Gritting her teeth, she begins the slow process of unwinding the bandage, wincing when it pulls on the scab.

She eyes the burn critically. It’s a little irritated from walking so much and from pulling the bandage off but there are no signs of infection which is what she worried about most. Pulling out a small jar of salve, she slathers it over the burn and bandages it again, the salve soothing the ache some.

The worst part seen to, she begins to pull out her things. She needs to report in to her father first and foremost. She’s already a few days late, though they are aware of the increasing hostilities amongst the many clans in Fire and have been warned she might be delayed. Still, this is the first time she’s felt safe enough to send one of her messages so better to do it now rather than wait.

Pulling out one of her message scrolls and her ink and brush set, she gets to work grinding up some ink and writing her news in quick shorthand, telling her father what has happened in the last few weeks since her last message.

 

“Strangely enough the warring between the Senju and Uchiha, often the worst of the clans from their feud, has died down in recent months rather than escalate with the others. When I scouted around I met hostility on both fronts. Something has happened that has both clans withdrawn and sticking close to home. While I want to be optimistic that this might be a change for good, I have my doubts. Warn our clan members who might be traveling near or through their territories to be on their guard least they be seen as a threat.”

 

With a nod, she rolls up the scroll and pulls out a small sheet of seal paper. With a few quick brush strokes a storage seal takes form and with another burst of chakra, the scroll is quickly sealed away. Satisfied that it will hold for the duration of the journey, she quickly begins to fold the paper into a form she could fold in her sleep.

The little paper bird sits innocuously on her lap, edges straight and creases sharp. She touches a fingertip to the paper, bringing up the seal needed for this particular trick in her mind and with a last burst of chakra, the seal blooms across the paper bird and before her eyes, it flutters its wings. “To Uzumaki Ashina, small one,” she whispers and it flutters its wings again.

Walking over to the window cradling the paper bird, she peels back her seal and opens the dirty window far enough for the bird to fly through. She follows it with her eyes until it disappears from sight, then closes the window and places her seal back.

Job completed, she wonders what to do now. Her stomach reminds her she’s eaten nothing but dry travel rations for the last week except for the occasional thing she could get when passing through a village. Decision made, she pulls her hair up into a loose tail and makes her way down the stairs to the bottom floor and nods to the owner as she takes her seat.

“What can I get you dear?” a woman asks, coming up as she wipes her hands on her apron.

Mito smiles kindly, “Whatever’s hot and a pot of tea please,” she orders and the woman nods, shuffling away to place her order with the cook before moving onto the next guest needing her attention.

With her back to the wall, she lets her eyes scan the crowd of patrons lazily. She stops on a shadowy corner of the dining area, taking in the figure sitting alone at the table there. Dark hair in a wild mane around his face and down his back, pale skin and dark eyes, he watches everyone around him suspiciously while he eats.

Sitting on the table preening its feathers, a white hawk with strange red markings around its beak rests, occasionally nipping at his fingers and he holds up a morsel from his plate to feed it with a small smile. “Here you are,” the woman returns with her food and drink. Smiling gratefully, Mito hands over the money to pay for it and tucks in, enjoying her first hot meal in a while and savoring the tea, even if it’s not exactly to her taste. One can’t be picky when in unfamiliar territory.

The man stands before she’s finished and she can see the shine of armor under his cloak and she arches a brow at that. Not many people go around wearing heavy armor without a cause. She wonders just who he is and what’s got him vigilant enough to wear armor even when eating.

She puts the curiosity out of her mind as he leaves the dining area to head up the stairs and finishes her meal. “Will that be all?” the woman asks.

Mito frowns, “Do you know anything about that man that just left?” she asks quietly.

She shrugs, looking towards the way he left, “No, not really. He’s been here a couple of days. He doesn’t talk with anyone unless he needs to and he’s always got the bird of his. I’ve only ever seen him talk to it, strange that,” she says with a shrug.

Mito nods, handing over a small tip in thanks for the information and the woman smiles gratefully, tucking the coin away before she collects Mito’s dishes and takes them back into the kitchen.

Trudging back up to her room, Mito closes the door behind her and secures it once more. Safe, warm, dry and full of good food, she settles on the bed and lets sleep steal over her. She sleeps well into the morning and wakes well rested.

~*~

Madara guides Ryujin through the early morning traffic, the horse tossing its head a little at the noise but for the most part remains unaffected by the chaos. It’s a market day in Kaibun but he could care less. Their lead in this town ran dry with no sign of their quarry so it’s time to move on.

As the walls of Kaibun disappear behind him he breaths a small sigh of relief, reaching out to run a gloved hand over white feathers. Tobirama fluffs up, still mostly asleep on his perch but then he’s never been a morning person.

Three months of searching, of scouring the various villages and towns for that thing and still there is nothing to show for their efforts. He wonders how much longer they can go on like this. Hashirama had promised to keep his clan in check while they were away and Izuna had begrudgingly taken over his duties while he searched, somehow managing to deter Tajima from his ever increasing demands they go full out against the Senju. Izuna’s last letter had spoken of their father’s health getting worse recently and that he’d been bed ridden on and off for the last few weeks and it didn’t look like it would be getting better. Guilt at not being there settles low in his gut, but he can’t go back, not like this, and at this rate, he’s not sure they ever will find the creature that did this to them.

As if sensing his dark thoughts, one red eye opens and Tobirama lets out a soft chirp. Madara huffs and reaches out to stroke his feathers again, “Yeah, yeah, I know. Stop thinking,” he mutters fondly. A sharp beak nips at his finger gently and  he feels some of the tension drain from his shoulders. “Yeah,” he says, already knowing what Tobirama is saying, despite no words being uttered.

The road comes to an eventual crossroads. “What do you think, stay in Fire or search Lightning?” he asks the hawk seriously.

Tobirama flaps his wings a little, settling his feathers as his head swivels back and forth before, with a piercing cry, he takes to the air and leads unerringly back into Fire. Decision made, Madara spurs Ryujin on, following the pale shadow through the sky as Tobirama flies above the road.

~*~

It’s late afternoon and she’s put Kaibun behind her. It was only meant as a quick stop, a night of safety before she took back to the road. Her mission is a hard one but she will do it, if only to keep someone less able from having to do it and ending up dead.

Her father has been considering for a time now opening Uzushio to the rest of the world, rather than shut away on their island. But so much time has passed and their information on the world at large is limited to what news is brought back from the few shinobi of their clan that take missions in the other countries.

So he had turned to her, his daughter and one of the strongest of their shinobi, to travel: to look, see, and talk with people, to learn about the various clans and the other countries as a whole. Her knowledge would then be the decider of what they do and maybe who they consider making an alliance with.

She’d spent some time in Water first the islands closest to their island but that had quickly turned deadly, the clans there in the middle of blood purge. Whole clans ‘cleansed’ by the country’s fear of kekkei genkais. She’d ended up helping a few groups escape the massacres as she escaped herself and had reported back to her father soon after that Water should be avoided at all costs, least their people with kekkei genkai, few though they are, be targeted.

She had finally made it to Fire a few months back and had been making a meandering path across the country. The fighting here is just as bad as elsewhere, though for different reasons. The Fire Daimyo, old and inattentive, has let the clans rage on unchecked, like his predecessor before him, caring only that they faithfully filled their tithes to him on time.

She wrinkles her nose a little at such a greedy and uncaring man. So much blood has been spilt over the years between the clans, each aiming to gather land and power, many uncaring of the civilians that get caught in the crossfire.

Even Uzushio’s cousin clan, the Senju, was not immune to the bloodletting of war. Their centuries long feud with the Uchiha still raging to this day and driving them to war over and over, despite the losses on both sides. She’s honestly surprised both clans have lasted this long and haven’t killed each other off outright.

Her father had considered an alliance with the Senju a few years back, when she had been much younger, out of some familial tie due to their shared ancestry, but after a particularly chilling report of the then Clan Head Butsuma, he had held off, not wanting to be associated with a man who employed child killers. Now, with Butsuma dead and his heir Hashirama in control of the clan, she had been asked to feel out this new leader and see where his heart lay.

She had attempted to do just that but something has happened and she’s not sure what. She couldn’t even get close to the Senju Compound without being warned off with force by one of their patrols. Even invoking the Uzumaki name hadn’t swayed them and she had been forced to leave to try another day. When she’d curiously tried to scout the Uchiha lands, a similar event occurred and she is even more curious about what has happened.

Lost in thought, she stops in a high up branch to catch her breath and to decide where to go. A sudden noise up ahead has her tensing and she stills, waiting to see if it happens again.

A high shrill cry, the hunting cry of a bird of prey, sounds out and she sees something white fly up into the air before diving back down. Recalling another white bird, she darts forward and finds the man from the inn in the middle of the empty road with shinobi on all sides. A heavy gunbai held with ease and red armor shining in the afternoon light, he swings it with a grimace, teeth bared in a snarl as he bats one shinobi away while he kicks another back that was attempting to jump him from behind.

The hawk screams again and dives down, raking talons across a man’s face and he gives a yell of pain, clutching his face as he fouls up one of the other shinobi mid leap. Taking in the heavily uneven odds, she makes a snap decision and leaps from her perch, coming down silently behind two shinobi gathering chakra together for some devastating jutsu and reaches out, hands landing gently against them. Twin seals bloom across their skin and she feels their chakra gutter and collapse as the suppression seals get to work.

Kicking them away, she yanks out a kunai and flings it at a third shinobi that rushes her and catches him in the neck and he falls to a sliding stop at her feet. Reaching down, she reclaims her weapon and ducks under a slash of water, hands flowing through a familiar jutsu and blades of wind leave her fingertips to leave gaping slashes across the shinobi’s torso and deep furrows in the ground and trees behind them.

As he falls, she feels a heavy, oppressive chakra behind her and she whirls around, kunai up to come face to face with the dark haired man, his gunbai raised to attack. A streak of white and the hawk suddenly is between them crying out and his eyes she realizes are red, flick to the hawk seeming to read something in its cry and he stands down.

Holding up a gloved hand, he lets the hawk land, its wings fluttering as its narrow chests puffs from exerting itself. “Who are you?” he demands brusquely.

She nods, “Uzumaki Mito.”

“Why are you following me?” he demands and she frowns.

“I’m not following you,” she says.

“This is the second time I have seen your face. I never forget faces. You were at the inn that we stayed at and now you suddenly come to my aid unasked. What do you want?” he snaps.

Mito sighs, understanding where his paranoia is coming from but really offended all the same, “I…am…not…following…you,” she grits out. “I don’t even know who you are,” she huffs out.

The hawk makes a shrill noise and he sighs, rubbing at his face. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Let’s just say I’m not used to people helping me for no reason,” he apologizes and she nods in understanding.

“It’s fine. I wouldn’t have even come this way if I hadn’t heard your hawk,” she admits and he smiles faintly at the hawk.

“He’s hard to ignore,” he admits and the bird fluffs up in indignation at his words. “Thank you, Mito,” he says with a nod.

“You’re welcome…,” she pauses to see if he’ll give a name.

“Madara,” he says simply and she nods, still seeing the lingering distrust at his lack of clan name…though he might be clanless.

“You’re welcome, Madara. I’m glad I could help. That seemed like a lot of force to take out one man and a bird, talented though he is,” she says, eyeing the fallen corpses.

Madara huffs, “This is hardly anything,” he scoffs. “I’ve faced worse. You just shortened the fight, not that I’m ungrateful. It’s tiring work killing this many fools.”

“May I ask why they were after you?” she asks.

“Someone wants me dead obviously,” he says and doesn’t elaborate further.

“Ah, yes,” she says with a grimace. She glances around again. “Shall we pick through the spoils?” she asks, ever pragmatic and never one to overlook an opportunity for information gathering.

He nods, tossing the hawk into the air and it flies over to a horse she can just see in the tree line off the road and lands on a perch built into the saddle. Between the two of them, its quick work to search the bodies for anything useful before dragging them into a loose pile.

She finds a notice with a bounty on it for someone fitting Madara’s description and his white hawk. His head and the bird brought back dead for proof. The seal has the imperial seal on it meaning this is an official bounty from the capital. There’s a second one as well, describing a man with white hair and red eyes seen with a black wolf. The man’s head and the wolf’s corpse needed for proof of kill.

She hands them silently to Madara and he frowns as he studies the papers before tucking them into a pouch to look over later. When the last one is picked over and thrown on the pile, Madara’s hands move fluidly through hand signs and fire sparks from his mouth, flowing in a steady stream until the bodies catch. Mito does a few signs herself and a small gust of wind causes the flames to burn brighter. He nods at her help and they watch silently for a while to make sure the bodies catch fully and are on their way to becoming ash before stepping away.

Mito studies the weary set of Madara shoulders and wonders how many times this has happened before. “You know, I’ve no destination in mind at the moment. If you’re not adverse to a companion for the night, I don’t mind sticking around for a bit. Who knows if more of them will follow these,” she says simply.

Madara whistle shrilly and the horse comes trotting up to nose at him as if to check for injuries. “I’m okay, Ryujin,” he mutters, patting the dark gelding on the neck as he scrutinizes her words silently.

The hawk leans forward from its perch and preens through his dark hair as if to comfort him and he sighs, “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind an extra set of eyes for the night,” he admits with a grimace, turning one dark eye on her.

Smiling faintly, she nods and steps up beside him as he takes the horse’s reins and continues down the road, putting some space between them but she doesn’t mind. There’s plenty of room on the dirt road. They’re conversation is stilted as they travel, neither willing to give too much away but she learns that he’s been travelling for some months now searching for someone. That attack was the fourth such attack in that time.

“Looks like your search leads to the capital,” she says as he pulls out the bounties to stare down at as he walks, the horse following even without his hand on its reins.

“It seems too easy,” he mutters with a frown.

“You think it’s a trap?” she asks, wondering just who he is hunting and what they did to him.

“I don’t know,” he mutters, his gaze flicking up to his hawk and it simply flicks its wing then tucked its head under as it rests on its perch. “I need more information before I go charging into that cesspool of a city,” he mutters and she nods in understanding.

They make camp well before dark and while she knows they could keep going for some time, she doesn’t question it, simply helps him set up camp in a clearing. It’s easy work to build a smokeless fire and they each pull out trail rations, eating silently as the sun finishes its path to the horizon.

It’s nearing evening, the sun starting to set when Madara stand with a huff. “I’ll take first watch and wake you at midnight,” he offers and she nods with a shrug as he stalks from their camp to patrol around it. She silently pulls out her blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders as she puts her back to a tree and lets the tiredness of her travels and the fight lull her into a light doze as the sun finishes setting.

~*~

He counts the seconds, feeling the pull of the sun setting like he never used to. He can feel the ache in his joints, the tingling of his skin in anticipation for the change to come and he fights it, like he always does, hopeless as it is.

Mito is left behind in the camp as he stalks around it, Tobirama a silent presence on his shoulder making soft chirps and trills that he only uses at these times, when the change is upon them. They both still as the sun reaches the horizon. The thrumming of chakra builds in the air around them and Tobirama takes to the air with a shrill cry.

The air ripples around him and he lands with a silent grunt of pain at the change, hollow bones suddenly gone solid and body human once again. Madara reaches out, gloved hand smoothing over a pale cheek as his thumb traces his red cheek marking silently.

He wants to speak, to say his name but the pull is too great, the change upon him and Tobirama just silently smiles, pressing a kiss to his palm before stepping back and with a growl of pain, he feels his bones snap and rearrange, muscle and sinew shifting and growing taut as his body turns into something it never should have been.

He lies there panting, deep breathes stirring the leaf litter beneath him as he slowly recovers from the change. He comes to awareness as thin pale fingers card gently through his fur, nails scratching softly at his skin and he lets out a great groaning sigh.

“Madara,” Tobirama whispers and he would cry if he could in this form at the sound of his voice. “Rest, Madara. I will keep watch for the night,” he assures and Madara huffs and forces himself up onto shaking limbs before he shakes himself of residual pain and tingles as he settles into his form. “Stubborn idiot,” Tobirama scolds fondly and he nips at his fingertips before he follows silently behind Tobirama as he continues Madara’s route around the camp.

~*~

Madara stares sullenly down at the small stone in his hand, tossing it up a few times and catching it easily before he throws it with accuracy across the river, the stone skipping before clattering across the riverbank on the other side.

He wonders why he still comes here sometimes and tortures himself with ‘what ifs’. He made his decision years ago and he’s stuck by it all this time. But part of him still wonders what might have happened if their brothers and fathers hadn’t found them here. Hashirama had been a bright point in a dark time of his life after so many siblings lost. He’s clung to Izuna all the harder after that confrontation, afraid to lose him too.

He wonders…ugh who is he kidding, it’s pointless to wonder. The war will keep going and one day it will be either him or Hashirama who walks away from the battlefield, the same with Izuna and Hashirama’s brother.

Growling in frustration, he kicks sullenly at a few stones on the shore, unable to find the peace this place usually brings him and turns to make his way back to the compound when something catches his eye further upstream. Concentrating, his Sharingan whirl to life, the world coming into startling clarity and he can see something white and waterlogged stuck in some fallen branches and a log on their side of the river.

Curious, he walks along the river, moving slowly and silently upstream in case it’s some kind of trap. You can never be too cautious. When he gets close enough to make out a shape, his heartbeat speeds up as he takes in a pale face streaked with red: Senju Tobirama.

Even from here, he can see the dark bloom of bruises across his cheek and jaw, the skin the paleness of blood loss and not just his natural complexion. The water is churning and it’s hard to see what the rest of his form looks like beneath the water but his fur is water logged and he can see he’s in his usual armor.

Madara stands there staring for far too long, not sure what to do. Because this is an enemy of his clan. Anyone else would either slit the young teen’s throat while he was down or take him back to the compound to be tortured for information on the Senju and then killed afterwards.

He can’t though, his mind balking at the thought of taking Hashirama’s last brother. He steps closer but Tobirama doesn’t stir. Like this he looks so young, face thin with too much exertion and not enough food to compensate. He can make out dark rings under the teen’s eyes, likely from an exhausting mission that went south or perhaps he was wounded and on his way home when he collapsed.

He takes in a slow breath and tries to figure out what to do logically. He can’t take the teen back to the Uchiha. That would be a sure death sentence, his father gleefully killing the teen and shoving it in Butsuma’s face. And in reverse, he can’t take Tobirama to the Senju for fear of forfeiting his own life or being captured and facing a similar fate from Butsuma.

Sighing, he steps up next to the teen and reaches down to extract him from the waterlogged embrace of the branches and log and drags him up onto shore. Free of the water, he can get a better look at the teen’s injuries and they look pretty bad, a long gash down one leg and a nasty looking stab wound in his side. He’s not sure if there are any broken bones or internal injuries but he wouldn’t be surprised, seeing the shadow of bruises on his arms and side when he lifts the teen’s armor and shirt a little to get a better idea of how bad the stab wound is.

He’s probably going to regret this and he knows the moment Tobirama wakes up he’ll try to stab him, but it’s the least he can do. Hashirama would do the same for Izuna that much he knows. His father, hell Izuna, would say it’s foolish to think that but he’s learned to trust his gut and it says Hashirama can be trusted, despite their clans’ war.

Grumbling, he works slowly and surely, working the waterlogged armor off the teen until he’s in just his shirt and pants, soaking wet though they are. With a start, he realizes this isn’t probably the best place to do this, out in the open on the side of the river where anyone could stumble upon them. With a grunt, he hefts the dead weight of a Senju up and carries him into the trees where the plants will give them some cover. He runs back and collects Tobirama’s armor and gear, tucking them into a pile before carrying them back, making sure to erase all signs of their presence from the shore.

The pale teen hasn’t moved  or stirred from where he placed him and that’s worrying. Setting his gear down and making sure his weapons are well out of reach though within sight of the teen, he begins pulling bandages out of his own medical kit he always carries on him. A cursory check of his person finds what is probably a fractured rib but he’s not sure. Two fingers are definitely broken and he binds them together with their neighboring finger to stabilize them.

The bruising he can’t do anything about, but it’s localized and not the dark spreading color of internal bleeding so that’s good news. An ankle is swollen, twisted harshly by the colorful bruise spreading across it and he binds that as well. As for his open wounds, they are only bleeding sluggishly, but he’s been submerged in water for who knows how long and the threat of infection is high.

Pulling out his salve, he slathers a good amount across both and bandages them up tight to put pressure on the wounds to help stop the bleeding. Sitting back, he surveys his work with a nod. He can’t be sure of any kind of head trauma, but all he can do is wait for the teen to wake up. Settling in for a time, he summons a hawk to send a message to his father that he won’t be back that night, following a lead about the Senju and that he’ll return soon.

The lie sits uncomfortably in his chest, not liking deceiving his clan or his father and brother. His gut tells him this is the right thing to do though so he ignores his guilt and sets about building a small fire to help warm the teen up and finish drying him out. As night falls, he pulls out his blanket from its scroll and tosses it over the pale Senju and stays up keeping watch, senses on alert for any kind of intrusion on their little bubble of solitude.

~*~

The only warning she gets is a sudden upsurge of chakra far too close to her for comfort. Her eyes snap open and she rolls out of the way as a blade sinks into the ground where she just at. She’s already drawing up her chakra for a nasty jutsu she knows when a roaring stream of water comes from behind her unexpectedly and catches her attacker in the chest, sending them back against a nearby tree where they slump to the ground and don’t move.

Mito whirls around and stares in surprise at the lithe, pale man standing behind her, sword belted at his waist and red eyes glaring fiercely at her attacker. “Who–,” she starts to ask and then ducks under a volley of shuriken from the darkness beyond their fire.

The man moves, far faster than Mito has seen anyone move. Gracefully like a fast current of water, he rushes forward as he spits needles of ice in the direction the shuriken came from. A grunt of pain announces a hit even as he draws his sword and lashes out with one hit and she hears the thump of a body hitting the ground.

Catching herself staring, she forces herself to focus and senses out for any more attackers but this seems to have been the only two. She also realizes she can’t feel Madara’s heavy, fiery chakra anywhere and wonders where he’s run off to and who this man is.

As if sensing her scrutiny, he turns and she reevaluates his age, looking younger as he steps out of the shadows into the light of the fire. A thin face and tall frame, he looks to be in his late teens, maybe seventeen or eighteen. White hair, pale skin with striking red markings (clan markings?) across his face. Dark clothing similar to Madara’s own clothing covers his form but it’s his red eyes, fierce and direct, that catch and hold her.

“Who are you?” she asks calmly, feeling out his chakra and realizes with a start that he is doing the same. He gives a knowing nod when he comes to the same conclusion.

“My name is Tobirama. I’m sorry I reacted too slow. I meant to take them out before they reached you,” he says simply.

“I’m just thankful you took care of them. Where is Madara? Did they knock him out? I can’t feel him anywhere,” she asks, standing up to brush leaves and dirt from her clothes and then proceeds to drag the corpse near her further away from their camp.

“Madara…had to leave for something, but he asked me to keep watch for him. He’ll be back with the dawn,” he says simply, copying her and pulling the second body close to hers. A quick check of their pockets and pouches finds nothing but another copy of the two bounty papers, though these have crude images of their faces drawn, looking vaguely like the two.

“Oh, well, at least he’s okay. I’m Uzumaki Mito,” she says with a smile as she stands and dusts her hands off.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. It’s not often the people of Uzushio leave their island,” he comments mildly.

“You are aware then…of my home?” she asks.

“I’ve studied much in my life and I’ve read much on Uzushio and our cousin clan. I find the pursuit of knowledge to be the greatest virtue one can strive for. To think you are ever finished learning is to stagnate and fall to ruin,” he says simply.

“A sound philosophy to get behind,” she agrees and then jumps as the shadows behind him move and a large black wolf steps into the fire light. “Oh, hello,” she greet nervously.

“Don’t mind him,” Tobirama says easily as the wolf gives a side eye to Tobirama and then collapses in front of the fire with a groaning huff.

“Is he okay?” she asks, concerned.

Tobirama smiles faintly and settles next to the wolf. “He’s just grumpy when he’s tired,” Tobirama says and a dark ear flicks back as the wolf’s tail smacks into Tobirama’s arm. A pale hand reaches out to scratch at his ruff and the wolf seems to melt into the ground, shifting to direct his scratching fingers to specific locations.

“So how do you know Madara?” she asks, fishing for information as he continues to scratch at the wolf’s ruff.

Red eyes flick her way and he nods faintly, “We met in battle, actually,” he admits with a sad look on his face. “Things might not have changed had he not saved my life one day when he found me wounded.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, seeing the disquiet on his face at the thought of any other path being taken.

“Though sometimes I wonder if maybe it would have been for the better had he left me there,” he murmurs and she wonders if she was meant to have heard that.

The wolf gets up with a grumble and shoves its face into his chest, knocking him back a few inches and Tobirama huffs, “Yes, yes,” he murmurs but the look on his face is gone and fondness has taken its place as he stares down at the wolf.

She smiles faintly at him as he looks up, “Well, I said I’d take second watch so why don’t you get some sleep,” she says with a shrug.

Tobirama studies her for a moment before answering, “I don’t mind staying up. I’m more of a night owl as it is,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips like it’s a joke only he gets and the wolf grumbles in his lap.

Mito eyes him but decides not to question it. She knows he can be trusted at least a little bit if he saved her from that assassin. “If you insist,” she says and he nods in assurance.

Settling closer to the fire, she wraps the blanket tighter around her and lies down, though she pulls out a seal and presses it to the ground, activating it. Should anything come within a hundred feet of this seal besides her, Tobirama or the wolf, it will wake her. Tobirama eyes her seal curiously but doesn’t get up to examine it, the wolf still in his lap and she goes to sleep listening to him murmur softly to it as the night goes on.

~*~

Dawn comes with the chirping of birds and the arrival of a grumbling Madara, the man looking pained about something. Tobirama has already left, Madara saying he left with the dawn. “He does his own things,” he mutters in explanation and Mito nods agreeably as she munches on dry rations with a grimace, so tired of the taste.

“You missed the fun last night,” Mito says instead and Madara nods to her.

“He told me about the attack. I’m sorry my presence put you in harm’s way,” he says.

Mito shrugs, “Such is the life of a shinobi. I was foolish to not put up my seals. I’m thankful Tobirama was there to keep me from such a fatal mistake,” she says with a grimace.

“He’s good about that,” Madara says with a nod and a crocked smile.

“So what’s the plan now?” she asks curiously. “Did you find any leads when you disappeared last night?” she asks.

“No,” he growls out angrily. “But these attacks are getting old. The bounty went up,” he says, holding the newest bounties she had found last night. “Which means more fools hoping to take me or Tobirama down for the money.”

“I still think heading to the capital would be your best bet to tracking down who put the bounty on your heads. You might not even have to go that far. The Daimyo’s military keeps a small fort stationed a few days out from the capital as a staging point for patrols. They probably have the information there too. We’re shinobi, it wouldn’t be hard to break in and get it,” she says with a careless wave.

“We?” Madara asks with an arched brow.

Mito shrugs, “This is twice now that there has been an attack and both times, either you or Tobirama could have either killed me or let someone else do so. Obviously, you’re not that bad though I’m sure there are those who would say otherwise. And someone is going through a lot of trouble to kill you two off and I want to know why. If I help you, my curiosity might be satisfied,” she explains with a small grin as Madara blinks slowly at her.

The hawk gives a soft chirp from its perch on Ryujin’s saddle, blinking one sleepy red eye open before fluffing its feathers and tucking its head back under its wing. Madara stares at it before turning to look at her, “Why are you so willing to throw yourself in danger like this? You don’t know us.”

Mito smiles softly, “You once helped Tobirama, despite being enemies. I may not know you very well, but I have seen the goodness in you and that you care for each other. This world is already full of bloodshed and hate. I think I’d like to help something good for once,” she says easily and is amused to see a faint flush on his cheeks as he turns away with an awkward cough.

“Yes, well,” he mutters, “if you insist.”

“I do,” she says, standing to brush her clothes off briskly as Madara stands as well, looking awkward. “Now, Fort Kirogu is about a three day journey walking from here, or a day and a half of hard travel. Think your mount can handle that?” she asks.

Madara nods, “Ryujin is fast and durable. It’s why I chose him to ride by. We’ll have to rest him a bit, but he should be able to handle that pace though I don’t think he could take much more than a day and a half at most.”

“We’ll rest and do reconnaissance on the fort before going in and he should be recovered by the time we leave. I don’t know if we’ll be leaving in a hurry or not,” she says and he nods.

Putting out the fire, they make for the road, Mito keeping easy pace with the steady cantor of the horse as they make for the eastern road to the capital and to put distance between them and the last ambush.

~*~

He wakes to warmth on his front and cold on his back. The crackle of a fire is obvious and the grinding of a whetstone across a blade is loud in the silence around him. Everything aches and each breath burns as his chest protests the movement. He feels the deep ache of a fractured rib, one he’s felt before and it flares on every other breath. His right hand feels stiff and he recalls feeling the fingers of that hand crack alarmingly as he punched an attacker in the face and caught on a face guard like his own.

His ankle is also stiff, the flesh radiating heat and he wonders if it’s just twisted or if he broke it on his fall. It’s possible he did more damage to it by walking on it after getting out of that ambush but what else could he do.

The worst is the burning pain in his side and the sharp ache on his thigh. The skin there feels drawn and tight. It makes him wonder how bad the injuries really were and if perhaps they got infected. The last thing he remembers was reaching the Naka and finally letting his guard down some as he neared Senju territory. He must have passed out along the way. But that doesn’t explain who found him.

He tries to feel out with his senses and is shocked to find he can’t. His chakra, usually so plentiful, is tapped out, used up in his desperate escape and his mission before that. He’s lucky he didn’t kill himself from chakra depletion. It’s not a pleasant way to go.

“I can hear your thoughts from here,” a familiar and deep voice rumbles out and Tobirama stiffens in trepidation as he opens his eyes and looks across the fire to see dark eyes staring at him from under heavy black brows.

Instinctively, he looks away and when he spies his weapons a distance away, he lunges up to grab his blade and falls over with a groan, his whole right side lighting up in agony as he moves. “Oops, perhaps I should have warned you not to move,” Uchiha Madara, heir to the clan and his brother’s greatest friend and enemy says with a faint smirk.

“What do you want?” he grits out around a grimace of pain, limbs shaking.

Sighing, Madara stands after setting his kunai and whetstone aside and walks slowly over to Tobirama, hands loose and empty at his side, telegraphing his movement, not that being weaponless makes him any less dangerous. “If I had wanted to kill you, Senju, I would have let you drown in that river or slit your throat before you woke up,” Madara says evenly and Tobirama can feel his gaze boring into the side of his face but he won’t be so foolish as to look him in the eye.

“So what, you plan to take me to your clan?” he snaps, ignoring the pain and forcing himself up further on trembling arms. “I’d rather you slit my throat right now,” he snaps.

“Stop moving you idiot. You’ll only hurt yourself further,” he snaps, reaching out to grab him and Tobirama smacks his hands away. “You’ve got an infection,” Madara informs him with an annoyed huff.

“So,” he snaps, drooping as his adrenaline and fear fueled burst of strength wanes and the pain comes back.

“So, it means your moving around isn’t helping. I just put that poultice on it to draw out the infection and I would really prefer not to have to redo it again,” he snarls with a growl.

“What is wrong with you?” Tobirama asks with a glare, staring over Madara’s shoulder. “I’m your enemy in case you forgot.”

“Believe me, Senju, I’m aware,” he snaps back, but reaches out all the same and Tobirama pulls away again. “If I wanted to hurt you I would, idiot. Why would I go through all this trouble if I simply planned to take you to my clan to be tortured?” he asks in frustration.

“Why would you help your enemy at all?” he growls back, swaying a little, sweat breaking out across his skin in reaction to the fever he can feel just under his skin and he shivers.

“Maybe I didn’t want Hashirama to lose his last brother,” Madara says resignedly looking away, arms crossing defensively.

“Anija,” Tobirama mutters with a frown.

Madara shrugs, “He would do the same for Izuna. It seemed only fair I do the same,” he mutters still not looking at Tobirama.

Tobirama wishes more than anything that he had enough chakra to sense whether Madara is telling the truth or not…but it does sound like Hashirama. He can just see his brother finding Izuna, or any Uchiha for that matter, and secretly helping them heal before letting them go back home.

“Look, I need to check your side and you fighting me won’t help either of us so…don’t bite me,” he grumbles and steps slowly closer.

Tobirama tenses, heart in his throat as he allows Madara within grabbing range but the Uchiha simply helps get him settled back onto his back and pulls up his shirt to examine his side. Curious, Tobirama looks down as the bandages are pulled back and can see the angry red flush of infection along the edges of the wound and the way it seeps fluid.

If he had chakra, he’d be able to burn out the infection easily but even as he reaches for it, he runs up empty handed, his coils burning faintly from strain and overuse. It will be a few days before he has enough to even begin to heal himself.

Madara keeps his word, checking the wound and reapplying the poultice to the wound once more before wrapping bandages back around it. He checks the laceration on his leg but that one seems to have been spared from infection and is already starting to heal, albeit slowly without chakra to aid it along.

Satisfied, Madara snags the blanket Tobirama tossed off in his lunge and hands it back to him before stepping back to the other side of the fire. “See,” he mutters childishly holding up his hands and Tobirama rolls his eyes at his words.

“Congratulations, you’re not trying to kill me…now,” he mutters, tugging the blanket over his lap jerkily. Madara opens his mouth to say something and he speaks over him, “Don’t even try to deny you wouldn’t try to kill me eventually. We’re at war in case you forgot. You, Izuna or any one of your clan would kill me in an instant if they could, especially if it meant the war ended sooner rather than later. You have a clan to look after and my death would mean more of yours left standing at the end of it,” he states simply, logically. “Just like I would be expected to do the same, as would Anija.”

Instead of answering, Madara simply sighs loudly, face growing contemplative and he nods sharply at his word. They’re the truth, despite whatever ‘this’ might be. The moment they meet outside of this bubble of quiet on the battlefield, nothing else matters but war.

“Are you hungry or thirsty?” he asks instead of commenting on Tobirama’s words.

“Is it poisoned?” Tobirama asks snidely.

“By the fire, Senju, I’m not trying to kill you,” he growls explosively while grabbing his water canteen and opening it to take a gulp before he closes it and throws it at Tobirama who catches it clumsily in his weakened state.

Tobirama eyes him for a moment and then nods begrudgingly and proceeds to drain the canteen, thirst suddenly rearing its head now that he’s paying attention. Tossing the canteen back, he simply stares at the fire, feeling exhaustion rise up now that some of the urgency of the situation has waned.

He must have dozed off because the next thing he knows, he’s waking to hands on his side again, “Easy,” Madara murmurs as he clutches at a sturdy wrist. “I’m just changing the poultice,” he explains softly, as if to a spooked horse and Tobirama scowls silently but releases his wrist.

“Why has no one found us yet?” he rasps out, throat dry, despite the water drunk earlier. He can feel the flush of fever across his face and the fire licking up his side. Is it worse? He can’t tell.

“I’m good at concealing my camp and the Uchiha tend to avoid this section of the river unless they have backup. It’s narrow and easily forded and you Senju tend to patrol near here,” he mutters as he works quickly, eyeing the infection.

“So dumb luck then,” he hisses out as Madara spreads the poultice across the wound.

“You have a better option, Senju?” he asks as he winds bandages over the pad of gauze covering the poultice and wound.

“In my pouch,” Tobirama huffs out, “Perimeter seals. Even you should be able to use them,” he finishes, eyes clinched in pain as Madara ties off the bandages tightly.

Standing, he dusts off his hands and walks over to the pile of Tobirama’s gear. A little poking around reveals the seals in question: four narrow strips of seal paper with neatly drawn seals across them, not that he can make heads or tails of what they do. Sealing is not something he’s ever studied.

“Place them on the cardinal points of the camp, as equal distant from each other as you can and put chakra in them,” Tobirama huffs out as he holds up the seals to confirm them to be what he meant and he does as told, though cautiously. He wouldn’t put it past the Senju to try and make a trap just for him, even wounded as he is. The paper sticks to the trees and rocks he finds to place them on, chakra helping it to stick and as the last one goes up, he feels the barrier go up, like a faint bubble against his senses.

“It won’t block everything, like wood smoke, but they won’t see the fire light or hear us,” he explains tiredly, seeming to be half asleep again.

“Rest,” Madara reminds him and Tobirama scowls but some of the tension seems to go out of his frame and not long after, he’s out again. He doesn’t see the considering look on Madara’s face, or see him leave and come back an hour later with a brace of rabbits in hand.

~*~

Fort Kirogu is quiet, lights starting to shine as the sun sets, as they watch from a distance away, using the large trees near it to get a good vantage point. She glances towards Madara and quirks a brow at the way his eyes glow red in the shadows. She’s heard tales of such eyes but never actually seen them. She wonders just who Madara is and what he’s doing out here. Who is he chasing with such frustrated determination?

She turns her gaze back to the fort. “We’ll wait for true night to sneak in. Shift change will be near midnight, so we either go in before when the first shift is tired or after when the second shift is distracted but more alert,” she murmurs.

“Getting across this gap without being seen will be hard,” he mutters, motioning towards the near hundred meters of cleared away forest around the fort to keep anyone from sneaking up on the fort in the day or the night. The shadows might help them, but even they can’t account for direct line of sight.

“That’s easy,” Mito says and pulls out her brush and ink. She draws a few lines across the back of her hand quickly, the seal unfolding and as she presses a little chakra into it, her form goes a little blurry and insubstantial. “It won’t last for long, but it will get us across that gap and into the fort undetected,” she says with an easy shrug at his impressed glance and lets the chakra fade from the seal for the moment.

“Any idea where they might be keeping the bounty information?” he asks, turning back to the fort.

“My guess, the commander’s office,” she says with a shrug and he nods. He holds out his hand and she quickly draws the ink across his skin.

With a grunt of thanks, he stands. “We’ll do better if we split and come at it from two sides and take the fort before the shift change. I sent word to Tobirama to see if he can help but I’ve not heard back,” he mutters and she nods, wondering when he did it in the time they’ve been traveling. She hadn’t seen any sign of the pale man since that night except one glimpse the night before as they rested for a short time at a distance with his dark shadow of a wolf. She hadn’t tried to talk with him. Something about these two men seems…strange. She hasn’t put her finger on it yet, but she will eventually.

“If we don’t meet in the fort, meet at Ryujin,” he orders and she nods, arching a brow at his commanding tone and files this bit of information away for later thought and watches him slip through the trees to make his way around the fort and out of sight. She settles into her perch and proceeds to wait for night to truly fall before she makes her way to Fort Kirogu.

~*~

Time passes disjointedly for him, waking to hands on his side changing his bandages or pressing the canteen to his lips and making him drink. His head is foggy, cotton stuffed and yet it feels like it weights too much.

His first coherent moment has him opening his eyes to see the stars above and the fire crackling lowly next to him. His chakra has crawled back a little, not enough to do much, but enough to let him sense out a bit and feel the blazing bonfire of Madara’s chakra across the clearing. His back is to a tree as he keeps watch.

“Why?” Tobirama rasps out, turning his heavy head in his direction and sees Madara startle slightly and turn to look at him.

“Why what?” he asks, though he doesn’t come closer.

“Why do you care if Anija loses me? You made your choice on the river, your clan over your friendship. So why do you care?” he demands, needing to understand.

Madara lets out a heavy sigh, head tilting back but seems to contemplate his question seriously. “I chose my clan that day because it was the only choice to make. Choosing Hashirama would have only made my father distrust me and possibly even remove me as heir. Which means Izuna would have been heir and he wasn’t ready for that responsibility. It would have gotten him killed and I’ve already lost enough brothers for one life time. Also, we were just kids, even if we were shinobi. What could we have done at that time against our fathers? I never stopped believing in peace, but I couldn’t let it cloud my judgement with my family. They will always come first. I’m sure you can understand that sentiment,” he says, looking over at Tobirama and for once, he doesn’t look away, searching his gaze for any hint of a lie.

“Yes, I know that feeling,” Tobirama admits and closes his eyes. He grimaces a little, “I hated you, you know…even before I saw you on the battlefield,” he confesses quietly. Madara hums but he doesn’t open his eyes to see if he’s looking. “You made him look away from the clan, away from me. He was all I had left after Itama was killed and suddenly he was just disappearing and leaving me to face father’s training alone. When I realized why and who you were, I was so angry that he was willing to choose you over me.”

“I’m sorry,” Madara mutters quietly.

“Not really your fault,” Tobirama admits with a faint huff of amusement. “Anija…he has a one track mind once he sets it on something. It took me a long time to understand how he thinks and to accept it. To him choosing you was choosing me that day. Your dream of peace, if it was achieved, would have meant peace for me and the clan. It would have meant safety which is all he ever wanted for me.” Madara is suspiciously silent and he peeks an eye open but all he can see is a wall of hair hiding his face as he glances down at his gloved hands. “He misses you, you know,” he adds.

Madara huffs at that, “We see each other every time our clans go to battle.”

“No, he misses talking with you, like you did at the river,” Tobirama says, turning away to lie back down fully. “I see it sometimes. He looks to the west with this distant look in his eyes, like he’s remembering something sad.”

“Yeah, well…there’s not much I can do about it now,” Madara grunts out, standing and Tobirama glances at him out of the corner of his eye. “You should sleep some more. You’re infection is finally starting to go away,” he adds and stalks out of the camp and into the darkness around them.

~*~

The fort is quiet as she silently scales the wall, a bare drop of chakra used to stick her feet and hands to the wood as she pulls herself up. Sensing out, she doesn’t feel any large chakra sources nearby, all civilian levels and no one is close to her position. With a nod, she scales over the spiked tips of the wooden barrier and dashes over it and down the other side, landing in a heavy pool of shadow before stilling. When no one shouts or raises the alarm, she sighs in relief.

With a frown, she looks around. She’s not been in a Fire fort before, but she can see the way it is arranged and guesses that the commander’s quarters will be in the center in the most defensible spot of the fort. She can’t feel Madara but she assumes he’s suppressing his wildfire chakra to pass unnoticed by those who might be sensitive to it. Even civilians can have sensor abilities, limited though they might be.

Waiting for a patrol of two guards to pass her hiding spot, she silently darts out of her shadow and makes for the center of the fort, her seal still holding, though not for much longer. Ink really is a bad medium for seals on skin. The sweat and oils of skin eventually corrode the ink and break the seal. Oil based paint would be much better but…well, you make do with what you have.

Pausing, she listens and hears two more approaching, feeling their faint chakra and she scales the wall next to her lying flat along the tiles of the roof as they pass by. Once they’re gone, she continues along the roof, keeping low and out of any torch light.

The highest part of the fort comes into view, three stories tall and made of stone rather than wood like the rest of the fort is and she smiles faintly. A tickle of familiar chakra catches her senses and she glances to see a pale shadow dart nearby, a darker shadow following and she realizes Tobirama made it, though she still hasn’t seen Madara.

It’s nearly too easy to scale the wall of the tower. She’s thankful for the thick clouds overhead blocking much of the moonlight, providing plenty of shadows to stick to as she climbs. Her seal finally breaks as she reaches the top of the tower and pulls herself over. A guard is there, unaware of her presence as he stands watching over the fort as a whole. A bow is set next to his feet.

Slipping silently up behind him, she lays a single fingertip against the nap of his neck and before he can react, the seal takes hold and he drops, unconscious. She catches him before he lands, easing him down and she grins at a job well done.

There’s a trap door, how the guard got to his post, and she eases it open slowly. It’s dark below, but she can see the faint casting of torch light from further away. Dropping down the ladder, she eases the door closed and surveys where she’s at.

A narrow hall ends at the ladder up to the roof. The torch light comes from a torch around the corner in the other direction. Sensing out, she feels four chakra sources below her and one on the same floor as her. Moving silently, she stops at the corner and peek around the wall. One guard is stationed in front of a large, heavily reinforced door. The commander’s chambers more than likely.

She doesn’t feel anyone inside, which is fortunate but she still has to take care of this one. Before she can do anything though, the man gives a grunt of pain and drops, a pale form darting forward to ease him down to the ground to keep him from making any noise and Mito eyes Tobirama from her position with a knowing look.

“Where’s Madara?” she asks quietly as they search for a key to the door. She can pick the lock easily, but a key will always be faster.

“I convinced him to cover our retreat should we require it. He’s better at being a distraction than sneaking in,” he informs her and she readily agrees, recalling the red armor the man wore and his large weapon. Madara is a man built more for the battlefield, not for sneaking quietly into a fort and getting out unseen, shinobi though he might be. “Don’t tell him I said that though. He’ll be insufferable,” he adds and she snorts and then gives a smirk as she pulls a key from around the man’s neck.

Standing, she slips the key in, eyeing the door for any kind of trap but it’s clear and it unlocks with just a tiny click. It opens silently as well and they slip in, shutting it behind them. They have only a short time before the next guard change happens and someone finds the two unconscious guards.

“I take right, you take left,” she offers and he nods, not questioning her as they dart away and split up the room. Silently counting the minutes down, she finally stumbles upon something useful, pulling the scroll out of its cubby. Unrolling it, she starts to scan what’s written across it.

“I think this is it,” she murmurs and feels him dart to her side. “It’s a list of recent bounties placed, how much and even who placed them,” she says, unrolling further to get to ones from earlier. “When was the bounty placed?” she asks.

“Around three months ago,” he informs her and she unrolls further until finally, two familiar bounties appear with names, descriptions of the men and their animals, the requirements for payment, the amount of the bounty and one name beside each of who placed it.

“Wakashi Jugo,” she mutters, trying to recall who that is when an alarm is sounded from further away and they both look up. “Times up,” she hisses, rolling the scroll back up and tucking it back into its spot.

The door bursts open, a guard with a torch rushing in and they both move, rushing towards him. He swings the torch at Mito who reaches him first and she ducks as Tobirama quickly disarms him and hits a few nerve clusters and the guard goes down with a pained grunt, legs not able to support him. They don’t wait to see what happens as they rush towards the ladder and climb up onto the roof.

“Let’s go,” Tobirama murmurs as they look out and see movement towards the tower as the alarm is sounded, torches bobbing in the dark. Rather than climb back down, they leap, channeling chakra to their legs to cushion their landing as they roll with the momentum and jump up to keep running, sticking to the shadows.

A dark shadow detaches from a corner and the wolf joins their run as they make it to the wall unnoticed, most everyone focused on the tower. Tobirama grunts, hefting the wolf over a shoulder and leaps up and over the wall, setting it down to keep running with Mito right behind him.

There’s a shout behind them from a guard having seen them but they’re already halfway across the cleared area and before anyone can even reach for a bow to fire, they’ve made it into the trees and out of sight. Tobirama moves smoothly and silently through the trees beside her, the wolf keeping pace and eventually, they come to the small clearing where Ryujin is tied up.

“We should split up for the moment. Meet up at the crossroads an hour after dawn,” Mito says and he nods grimly.

“I’ll send Madara that way. I need to do a little research on that name,” he mutters and she nods, not questioning it and they split up, Tobirama climbing onto Ryujin’s saddle before he turns the horse around to go in a different direction than Mito, the wolf keeping pace with the horse.

Mito takes the opposite direction, moving to the trees and quickly fading into the night. Keeping a mental map of the area in mind, she slowly makes her way in a long, serpentine path towards the agreed upon meeting point. It’ll take her most of the rest of the night to reach it this way but it will confuse anyone that might try to track them. Destination set, she lets the shadows swallow her up.

~*~

He’s feeling better, chakra returned in a small amount, enough that he can finally do something about this infection. Madara is gone, hunting most likely and has left Tobirama resting in their makeshift camp. It’s been a few days and he really needs to get home. Hashirama has got to be worried by his lateness.

Grunting, he sits up with a grimace and presses a hand to his side, drawing his chakra up slowly. His hand glowing green, he presses the chakra into the wound, slowly and methodically burning away the infection, even though it hurts.

By the time he’s done, he’s drenched in sweat and shaking but the infection is completely gone. Already his side feels better, less burning heat and more a dull warmth. He can’t stay here. Their luck won’t hold out much longer and someone will stumble upon them. Hissing, he forces himself to his knees and then to his feet until he stands there, swaying.

Taking a steadying breath, he stumbles over to his gear, untouched since Madara pulled his seals out and begins the slow process of pulling each bit of his armor on one piece at a time. He has to stop a few times to catch his breath and to stop because of a dizzy spell but eventually, he’s dressed.

He eyes his seals, but it would take too much time to remove Madara’s chakra from them and would just tire him out needlessly. He can always make more and it’s not like Madara can use them in any way against his clan. He’d be able to sense his own work easily.

Looking around to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything, he pushes away from the tree he’s next to and staggers east, towards the river. It’s hard crossing it, his control shaky and a few times his foot dips beneath the water but eventually, he reaches the other shore and he sighs in relief.

Stumbling through the trees in the general direction of the compound, he feels them before he sees them and flares his chakra faintly to signal who he is. As the Senju patrol converges on him, he feels the tension in his frame loosen, hands helping steady him as they rush him back home…back to Hashirama and he lets unconsciousness fall over him once more. Only a small twinge of regret is felt for not thanking Madara but is easily ignored.

~

He comes to in a warm bed, his head blessedly cool and clear and feels a warm, broad hand running over his hair. “Anija,” he says weakly before even opening his eyes, already feeling his brother’s bright chakra against his skin, a welcoming feeling.

“Hey Tobi,” Hashirama murmurs, smiling down at him. “You gave us quite a scare there,” he says softly. “What happened?”

“An ambush on my way back from the mission. I was already low on chakra when they attacked. It took nearly everything I had to survive and I managed to get away but I collapsed on the way home. I woke up in a small village hut with someone caring for me,” he lies easily.

He nods, “The healers said someone had cared for you. The poultice they used on you was really good. Better than anything they’ve seen in a while. You wouldn’t happen to know what they used?” he asks with an arched brow.

“I was a little preoccupied, Anija,” he reminds him.

“Right, sorry,” he says sheepishly. “I fixed up the rest of your injuries and you should be good in a few days. Just take it easy. Don’t worry your Anija so much. You’ll give me grey hairs prematurely,” he mutters, leaning down to press a kiss to Tobirama’s forehead.

“Sorry, Anija,” he mutters, feeling tears prickling in his eyes and blinks them away before Hashirama can see.

“Now, how about some food?” Hashirama says brightly, grinning and back to his usual sunny disposition and Tobirama smiles faintly, though he can’t help but glance towards the west and wonder what Madara had done after he left. Probably went back to his clan.

~*~

She arrives as the sun is rising over the tree tops, exhausted but sure that no one has followed her trail through the trees. Sensing out, she doesn’t feel anyone yet and stays back from the road, waiting for Madara to arrive.

She thankfully doesn’t have long to wait, the man appearing from the opposite direction of the fort on the back of Ryujin. He comes to a stop at the crossroad, his hawk perched on his saddle and she lets her control slip just a little on her chakra and dark eyes unerringly find her in the shadows of the leaves.

Jumping down from the tree, she makes her way over to him with a smile in greeting. “Well, that went better than I thought,” she comments and sees his brow arch.

“From what I saw, you had the whole fort on alert,” he mutters.

“On alert, yes, but nowhere near able to find or catch us. We left no dead and took nothing. That alone will confuse them more than anything,” she says with a shrug.

Madara lets out a snort but doesn’t contradict her. “What did you find?” he asks instead.

“Tobirama didn’t tell you?” she asks, surprised.

“We were busy evading searchers. By the time we managed to escape, we needed to part ways and he said you would know what he knew,” he explains.

She nods in understanding, “Perhaps we should move this off of the road,” she comments and he sighs, but follows her off the road and into the trees. Out of view, she turns to face him, “Does the name Wakashi Jugo mean anything to you?” she asks.

He pauses for a moment as he thinks over the question, “It does. Wakashi Jugo is a courtier of the Daimyo’s court. High ranking, probably even has the ear of the Daimyo. I’ve not met him personally, but he’s got a reputation for scheming.”

“Do you have any idea why one of the Daimyo’s closest courtiers would have a grudge against the Senju and the Uchiha?” she asks slyly and watches him stiffen and stare at her warily.

“No need to look so concerned. I didn’t lie before. Your full names were printed on the bounty registry,” she explains and he huffs out a breath. “So, any grudge against either of your clans I should know about?” she asks.

Madara shrugs, “Who can say. Maybe a job we took offended him or we worked with one of his enemies. We’re shinobi, we tend to not ask why,” he grumbles.

“True,” she agrees. “But if it was a grudge against the whole clan, why go after you two specifically and not send an army after your clans?” she asks.

“I’m not sure Wakashi is the one I’m after,” he mutters with a frown. “I think he’s another pawn, like the bounty hunters. This is personal and targeted at just the two of us. He wants us specifically dead,” he says aloud as he mulls over the thoughts.

With a flap of its wings, the hawk takes to the air and Madara’s eyes follow its path as it circles the air above where they’re at. Mito frowns as Madara grows tense, gaze flicking around and she senses out. “No one is near us,” she assures.

“Maybe I’m just getting paranoid,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand through his mane of hair with a sigh.

Two things happen at once: The ground around them explodes with motion as dark grey vines emerge from the earth, and a shrill war cry of a bird of prey is yelled into the air.

They react too slowly, taken off guard completely and as the dark vines aim for Madara, a white form streaks between them and their target, impaling the white form. “Well, not who I was aiming for but the bounty did say they wanted the bird dead too. Guess that will have to do,” a gravelly voice says and emerging from the ground is a person, or parts of a person, all connected by the same thick threads that have them surrounded.

“To- No!” Madara screams as the threads flick and fling the hawk to the side where it lands with a soft thump and a cry of pain.

Mito cringes back as Madara’s chakra goes from its normally warm fire to a raging inferno and she watches in fascinated horror as dark flames spring into life around him, a fist of black flame striking out at the man that’s slowly putting himself back together and sends him flying.

“Mito,” Madara whispers and she flinches at the raw anguish in his voice. “Take him to the Senju,” he asks, motioning to the downed hawk.

“What?” she asks, not understanding what the hell is going on.

“Please,” Madara begs and he turns to look at her and she flinches back at the hatred in his eyes. “If you will do this one thing, take him to the Senju and ask for Hashirama. If they ask why, tell them Tobirama sent you. Please,” he begs and she swallows and nods.

With a look of gratitude, he turns away and she rushes to the hawk, scooping him up as gently as she can before sprinting away to where Ryujin has run off to. “Come on Ryujin, quickly,” she whispers, spurring the horse forward.

She only looks back once and pales as the black flames spread around Madara, bone like forms appearing around him and she swears she sees a skull before the trees block it. Her last sight of Madara himself shows bloody tears running down his cheeks before she’s forced to face forward and guide Ryujin through the trees.

She doesn’t know how long they ride, the miles going by in a blur. The hawk doesn’t move but every once in a while, she hears it give a soft cry, the only sign it still lives. When Ryujin starts to falter, taxed to his limit, she presses her chakra into him, giving the horse the energy to keep going.

The trees soon swallow them  up as she races down the path near the river that splits the area between Uchiha and Senju lands. She’s not surprised when a patrol spots her mad dash through the trees. She’s forced to pull Ryujin up, his sides heaving and sweat dripping from the poor horse’s flesh. He teeters dangerously as she comes to a stop, staring at the patrol of Senju scouts blocking her way.

“You are passing through Senju territory. State your business,” one says loudly.

“Please, I need to speak with Senju Hashirama,” she calls desperately, feeling the hawk stir faintly at her voice.

“Why should we let you speak with our clan leader?” the leader asks again.

“Please, I need to speak with him. Tobirama sent me. It’s urgent,” she begs, trembling from near chakra exhaustion herself after supplying so much to Ryujin.

The group exchange glances, murmuring quietly before they come to a decision. “Follow us,” he orders and Mito slides off the horse, careful of her burden. “Ueda, go ahead and warn Lord Hashirama of our arrival with our…guest.” Ueda nods and disappears in a swirl of leaves.

“My horse?” she asks.

“I’ll walk him,” one offers and the leader nods, motioning Mito forward.

They surround her, keeping some distance but she doesn’t care as they make their way slowly towards the Senju Compound hidden amongst the trees. The compound walls come into view and she could have cried in relief.

The gates open, letting them through as curious eyes turn to their arrival. The Senju remain spaced around her as she waits there by the gate trembling and feels the approach of someone. The chakra alone feels like a towering oak and she shakes the harder at the feel of it, overwhelmed.

A man comes walking up quickly, long dark hair a curtain behind him, dressed in a simple kimono shirt and hakama, a haori thrown over it haphazardly in his rush to the gates. “What is it? What has happened?” he demands easily, dark eyes glancing over their party and finally landing on Mito. “Who are you?” he asks.

“I…I’m Uzumaki Mito,” she manages to get out. “Please, the one who sent me, he begged me to bring him to you,” she whispers, stepping closer and the shinobi around her tense but she doesn’t notice, pulling aside her shirt flap to show the red and white feathered form cradled in her arms.

Hashirama pales, eyes going wide and he rushes forward, “Bring him this way,” he orders her and she nods, following dumbly behind. “Leave us, back to your patrol,” he orders and the Senju bow and leave back over the wall.

She follows numbly through the compound, not really seeing anything as she keeps her eyes firmly on his wide back as he rushes through the compound and towards what she assumes is either the healing hall or the main family house, going by its size and placement.

He opens the door for her and she walks in, barely remembering to kick off her sandals before she rushes to keep up with him. “Set him here,” Hashirama instructs as they enter a room with a bed already set up and she gently untangles the wounded hawk from her shirt and sets him down as softly as she can but even so, it still pulls a shrill cry from his beak.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Hashirama whispers, hands glowing bright green as he reaches out to begin healing the hawk and Mito staggers back, suddenly bereft of what to do now that she’s actually accomplished her task.

She manages to make it to the wall, the world going a bit fuzzy and dark around the edges and she realizes with a little amusement that she’s about to faint from chakra exhaustion. Sliding down the wall, she tilts her head back and closes her eyes, breathing slowly as she listens to Hashirama work, feeling his bright chakra wash over the whole room as he works and she basks in it.

Unconsciousness is nearly on her when she hears him murmur a little louder, “It’s okay Tobi. You’re home, you’re safe,” and then she loses herself to the void, floating away with the comforting knowledge that the hawk will live.

~*~

He spends the next months with a strange feeling of uncertainty. He avoids Madara at all costs when their clans go to battle, often leading Izuna further away from their brothers to ensure they won’t interact and to avoid any possibility of distraction.

But nothing changes and as the days, and weeks, go by, he grows a little more curious and a little less cautious. He keeps his senses spread out around him when he can afford to expend the chakra, keeping tabs on both sides of the river and occasionally checking to see where Madara is.

Nearly five months later, weeks after his sixteenth birthday, he feels that familiar burning chakra nearing the river, in nearly the exact spot as before and his curiosity demands to be satisfied. Setting his scroll aside for later, he slips silently outside and looks around. The air is still cool, even with the sun up and he silently longs for things to really start warming up before he moves towards the western wall.

No one stops him, used to his comings and goings, often under Father’s orders. Slipping out of the compound, he makes for the river, moving silently and stealthily, senses trained for any kind of attack or ambush.

But nothing happens, no one is around for miles except Madara still in the same place, as if he’s lost in thought. Settling in a tree near the river, he looks out through the leaves and branches, observing what Madara is doing.

The man doesn’t move, gaze thoughtful and distant as he bounces a stone in his hand over and over. The fact that he’s not in armor, though still armed because even Madara isn’t that stupid as to leave without a weapon, throws him off. Even before, Madara had been in his armor. Seeing him without it feels…wrong. Like seeing his brother without his long hair, or Touka without her painted lips. It’s still them but off.

That little part of him that he’s been ignoring for months, rears its head and he sighs softly, realizing what he’s about to do is incredibly stupid and might get him killed or captured. But his conscience demands he at least make the attempt. He’s confident he can get away from the Uchiha should it come to conflict.

Ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that says to not be rude, it sounds suspiciously like Anija, he slides down from the tree as he lets a little of his chakra free of his tight grip on it and steps out from under the tree line to stand across the river from Madara.

Madara hasn’t moved, or reacted except to stop bouncing the stone in his hand, gripping it in a tight grip that can be changed quickly to turn the stone into a projectile and Tobirama approves of his caution. He has a hand on a kunai up his loose sleeve as his arms are crossed over his chest as well.

“One might think you had an obsession with this part of the river if you keep coming back here,” he comments mildly, keeping his gaze to the right of Madara’s head.

Madara snorts and bounces the stone again, dismissing the threat of his person and Tobirama narrows his eyes, not liking being dismisses so casually. He might not be at Hashirama’s insanely stupid chakra levels but that doesn’t mean he’s not a threat. “I could apply that logic to you,” Madara retorts with a smirk and throws the stone. Tobirama catches it easily, ignoring the slight sting on his palm from the force behind it.

“Should I tell Anija you’re here then? I’m sure he would run straight here,” Tobirama threatens as he tosses the stone aside and Madara grimaces.

“No, I don’t want to be wept on,” he waves off with a grimace and Tobirama snorts at his discomfort. “Why are you here then?” Madara asks curiously, bending down to rifle through the stones on the shore before he finds one he wants and picks it up.

Tobirama frowns, glancing away slightly but keeping him in the corner of his eye, “It seemed appropriate to attempt to convey…gratitude for what you did, or didn’t do,” he mutters, feeling a faint flush creep up the back of his neck at the snort Madara lets out.

“Wow, that was…one way to say thank you,” he huffs and Tobirama shoots him a glare.

“I didn’t need to do this and if you are just going to mock it than I’ll leave you to your obsession,” he retorts, turning away in a huff.

“You’ve been watching me,” Madara shoots back and Tobirama stills, not turning to look at him. “Don’t try and deny it. I keep a close watch on Izuna’s fights with you. The last three battles you’ve led him further away from Hashirama and I. Why?” he asks.

“There was no reason,” he informs him. “And to think there is one implies you think far too highly of yourself,” he adds.

“I never said it was to avoid me,” Madara says with a grin in his voice and Tobirama grimaces. “Come on, you can say it. It’s just the two of us here,” he mocks lightly and Tobirama’s shoulders stiffen. “Fine, I’ll say it for you. You didn’t want to have to fight me…how honorable of you,” he adds.

“It’s only logical to avoid you on the battlefield. You are far stronger than me and a direct test of strength would only result in my death. Honor has nothing to do with it,” he snaps, turning to glare at him, still staring off to the side

“I don’t believe that, though according to most people, shinobi have no honor,” Madara says flippantly.

“Yes, well, most people are stupid and I don’t allow their opinions to weigh on my thoughts,” Tobirama grumbles.

“Did…did you just say I’m not stupid?” Madara asks, tilting his head slightly, his mane of hair swaying at the motion. “That was a compliment,” he huffs.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Uchiha. Even a broken clock is right once in a while,” Tobirama says snidely.

“But you just implied you value my opinion,” Madara says with a wave of his hand. “If I’m not considered most people, does that mean you think about me often?” he asks with a grin.

“Only on how to kill you painfully and slowly,” Tobirama growls out in frustration.

“Kinky,” Madara mutters and Tobirama flushes a little and lets out a hiss of annoyance.

“You are just as insufferable as Anija. No wonder you were friends,” he growls and turns away again to storm off.

“You’re welcome,” Madara calls out after him and Tobirama gestures rudely as the trees close back around him again.

If, when the two clans clash again weeks later, he doesn’t draw Izuna away, it’s only to prove the idiot Uchiha wrong. The faint smirk he catches on Madara’s face has nothing to do with him and he turns his focus on Izuna and promptly ignores Madara completely.

~

Weeks after the battle, when he feels a familiar chakra signature approaching the same point by the river, he frowns and heads out. Obviously Madara is up to something and he needs to be prepared when the man springs it on their clan. He avoids one of his own patrols to keep from drawing any unwanted attention. He won’t raise the alarm until he knows for certain what Madara is up to.

The Uchiha is in the same spot he was in last time, though he’s in his armor this time. From the looks of it, he’s coming back from a mission, pants dust covered and dark smudges under his eyes. When Tobirama steps out of the trees again, he doesn’t even react. “You’re proving my point, Senju,” he comments mildly.

“Oh, and what point is that?” Tobirama demands.

“You’re spying on me,” he says with a crooked grin.

“I’m not,” Tobirama retorts, hiding a wince at being obvious.

“Then how would you have known I was here?” Madara asks with a knowing look. “I highly doubt this was some coincidence,” he adds.

“Maybe I just don’t trust you to not be up to something. You keep coming back to this location. This is the third time so far. Obviously, there’s some significance to this place,” Tobirama reasons.

“You’re very paranoid. Are you sure you’re Hashirama’s brother?” he asks with a sigh.

“Anija is too trusting. Someone has to question everything,” Tobirama mutters.

“Ugh, you sound like Izuna,” Madara grumbles, rubbing at his face in exasperation.

“Don’t insult me by comparing me to that idiot,” Tobirama snaps with a glare.

Madara huffs, “I figured you’d consider him your equal, being rivals and all,” he says with a wave of his hand.

“Your brother is an idiot who thinks throwing out a Raiton while we’re both surrounded by water is a smart attack. We’re I any less proficient with Raiton, we would have both been electrocuted,” he says snidely.

“What?” Madara yelps. “What is that idiot thinking?” he huffs. “And he calls me irresponsible. I’m using that next time he tries to judge me,” he mutters.

“If you’re not up to some scheme, though I’ve seen no evidence to refute that claim, why are you here? Sentimentality over a friendship seems a little implausible,” Tobirama asks, arching a brow.

Surprisingly, Madara doesn’t snap or get angry at his question. “I used to come here even before I met Hashirama here,” he says with a shrug. “It was someplace to get away for a bit. Being the son of Uchiha Tajima can be very demanding,” he says with a shrug. “I’m sure you can relate with that. I doubt Butsuma expects anything but perfection from you and Hashirama.”

Tobirama doesn’t comment but then he doesn’t need to. Butsuma’s expectations are obvious, on and off the battlefield. “I come back here after missions or when things get to be too much at the compound. It helps me unwind,” he says simply. “Does Hashirama have his own place?” he asks curiously.

Tobirama snorts, “Anija has a garden where he grows carnivorous plants,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Carnivorous…plants?” Madara says, sounding chocked. “You’re making that up.”

“I’m not. He ran across a species in Rock a few years ago. They changed to eating insects due to lack of nutrients in the soil from what I’ve come to understand. Anija decided to see if he could grow his own. They’re…a work in progress,” he comments with a grimace.

“Why would he want to make something like that? What is wrong with him?” Madara grumbles with a groan.

“I stopped asking that years ago,” Tobirama states simply.

Madara huffs out, scrubbing a hand through his hair in agitation, “I’m leaving now before you decide to tell me he’s growing carnivorous trees next,” he mutters.

“They don’t have the flexibility needed to become true carnivorous plants but they will strip a body of nutrients if it is buried around their roots,” Tobirama informs him and Madara lets out a growl and bounds off with a glare in his direction. Tobirama turns around and heads back to the compound. If his smile at messing with the Uchiha heir lingers, he pretends to not notice.

~

Months pass and each time he feels Madara head to the river and he can slip away unnoticed, he heads that way too. He’s not sure what keeps him coming back over and over. Madara never seems to mind, or he never tells Tobirama to go away which amounts to the same thing.

They talk, the river between them. Sometimes about Hashirama, or living as the sons of demanding fathers. Other times, the topics range to things Tobirama is working on, though he doesn’t give away too much information, or places Madara has been, things he’s seen in general. They’re still technically enemies and it would be foolish to say too much…at least that’s what he tells himself.

The war rages on, Tobirama going out over and over and always, his gaze flicks to Madara, if only briefly before he has to focus on Izuna. If Madara glances his way, he doesn’t know. Things come to a head nearly nine months after their second meeting, over a year since Madara helped him.

The compound is silent, people moving about slowly and quietly. In the main house, the silence is almost suffocating. Tobirama goes about his duties tense and exhausted. It’s worse for Hashirama, sequestered with the clan elders as they initiate him in as clan head and go over everything he needs to know…now that Butsuma is dead.

An infection from a battle wound ignored too long. Coupled with a series of attacks from other clans that left them too busy to do more than superficial first aid on most of their people and Tobirama is surprised they didn’t lose more to infection. By the time Butsuma noticed it, it was already in his blood, poisoning him from the inside out. A week later, he was gone.

He looks up as Hashirama emerges from the war room. He looks pale and drawn, smudges under his eyes and a tremble in his hands. Tobirama rises to go to him and Hashirama shakes his head, retreating outside to the garden to be alone for a while.

The spike of hurt in his chest at the dismissal is quickly smothered. Hashirama has had a lot dropped on him suddenly. It’s only fair he take time to himself. With nothing to do besides wait for his brother to come back to him, Tobirama is left bereft and uncertain just what to do next. The clan is staying close to the compound, in case the Uchiha attempt to attack while they’re vulnerable in the power transition.

He’s moving before he even realizes it, gravitating towards the river and the calm it offers away from everything. He sits there silently, staring at the river, ignoring the world around him while his mind tumbles thoughts left and right, just trying to figure out the next step. But he has no data points to draw from, no clue on what they…he should do next.

Footsteps on gravel have him looking up to see a familiar figure standing on the shore, though he knows who it is before he even looks up, feeling the heat of his chakra. Madara doesn’t say anything, just stands there staring at him, expression pensive…and when did that start happening? When did he start looking at his face without fear of his eyes catching and holding him?

“I heard what happened,” Madara murmurs.

“Is this some convoluted way of you telling me to expect an attack now that he’s dead?” Tobirama grits out, his tone acidic and biting.

Madara shakes his head. “No, I managed to convince my father that the losses wouldn’t be worth attacking now,” he admits, shifting on his feet.

Tobirama laughs humorlessly, running a pale hand over his face as frustration wells up in his chest, choking and so overwhelming he feels like his lungs won’t expand. “I don’t…I don’t know what to do,” he admits brokenly. “Anija’s off figuring out how to be a clan head and I…I don’t know what to do. What do I do to help him? I’m supposed to know these things. It’s my purpose to figure it out so he doesn’t have to. What do I do?” he yells, hands fisting in his hair.

A shifting of rocks is the only warning he gets before Madara’s in his space and he can’t react, can’t fight as arms wind around him, drawing him into Madara’s chest. It’s shocking enough to break him out of his spiraling thoughts. He hasn’t been touched by him since that first encounter. He’d forgotten how warm he is.

“Nothing,” Madara murmurs. “There’s nothing to do except grieve and figure it out a step at a time.”

“Why?” he grinds out, throat tight. “I’m your enemy. Why do this?” he demands.

“I know what it’s like to have no one to turn to,” he admits. “and to have to be the strong one. You don’t have to be strong or know anything right now. You’re allowed to lean on someone,” he murmurs.

Throat tight, he grips the fabric in front of him and just trembles as small, hurt sounds slip out despite his attempts to stifle them. He doesn’t cry. He can’t allow himself to be that vulnerable, but he doesn’t pull away. He soaks in the warmth from Madara and for the first time in days, he doesn’t feel cold.

~*~

She comes to awareness on a soft futon. She aches heavily, her body sore after such a harsh race but nothing she hasn’t felt before after a grueling training session. She tentatively feels out her reserves and finds them higher than before, but still much too low. She gave a lot to keep Ryujin going. Hopefully the horse is fine.

Opening her eyes, she finds darkness. Night has fallen while she slept. A quick glance around finds the room to be simply furnished. Reaching out with her senses, she feels the towering beacon of Hashirama’s chakra outside the room and when she looks that way, she can see his silhouette against the shoji being thrown by a lamp in front of him.

With a wince, she sits up, muscles protesting but she ignores them with ease. Blinking, she looks down and realizes she’s been taken out of her bloody clothing and put in a sleep yukata. Her hair tumbles around her in waves, down from the usual buns she keeps it in.

Forcing herself up onto tired legs with a grimace, she shuffles towards the shoji and slides the door open, taking in the soft light from the lantern and the garden before her. Hashirama is off to her right, sitting on the engawa, a cup of tea in his hands and a pot set on a tray to his right.

He looks up at her with a small smile, “You’re awake then,” he murmurs.

Mito nods, “Yes,” she gets out, voice scratchy with thirst and she quietly clears her throat. “Thank you, for helping.”

“Of course,” he says with ease. “Please sit, I’m sure you’re thirsty,” he motions next to him and reaches for the pot and a second cup she hadn’t noticed.

Sitting gratefully, she accepts the tea with a sigh, letting the heat warm her hands as she sips slowly from it, feeling the warmth radiating from within. She hums happily, “This is delicious,” she murmurs with a smile.

“Good tea is its own reward,” Hashirama says with nod, taking a sip from his own cup. They sit in silence for a time before he finally stirs, “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” His face is solemn and sad as he looks at her.

“An ambush a few hours east of Fort Kirogu,” she says with a sigh. “A bounty hunter took us by surprise. Ma-…My companion stayed behind to hold them off and asked me to bring the hawk to you. How is he?” she asks softly.

Hashirama smiles brightly, though she can still see the lines of worry in his face. “Alive and recovering,” he admits. He stands and motions her to follow and she does so curiously, setting her empty cup aside. Moving down the engawa, he stops before another shoji, though she sees no door to open.

Hashirama sets his palm against the wooden frame and she watches in fascination as the wood split until a seam appears and he slowly opens the door. “A precaution,” he explains before stepping in.

Mito follows behind and then stops abruptly as she gets her first look inside the room. Tobirama lies unconscious on a futon, face pale and bandages wrapped around his chest that she can see peeking from between the sides of his yukata. “What?” she asks surprised.

Hashirama laughs faintly at her look of surprise. “It’s a long story,” he explains, hands glowing as he checks over the pale man’s injuries.

Satisfied he’s healing, he runs a gentle hand over Tobirama’s hair before standing and moving to leave, gently herding the still staring Mito out of the room. He reseals the door and the split joins once more into a solid piece of wood again.

“What you just saw is a secret, even to my clan,” Hashirama admits as they take their seats once more. “Right now, they believe it was simply a hawk of some importance that was brought to me for healing and it must remain that way,” he explains.

Mito nods numbly and then a thought flashes through her head, “Then the wolf…”

“Yes,” Hashirama nods.

“Oh…OH, that makes so much sense now,” she says as all the little pieces of the puzzle finally come together and Hashirama chuckles softly.

“Yes, it’s a little hard to believe until you’ve witnessed it,” he agrees.

“Then Tobirama is…” she starts.

“My brother…my younger brother, though often he acts like a man nearly twice his age,” Hashirama laments.

“If I might ask…how did this come about?” she asks, glancing towards where Tobirama is in the sealed room.

Hashirama’s shoulders slump as shame crosses his features before he takes a deep breath as if steadying himself, but before he can answer the sound of footfalls sound nearby. “Later,” he murmurs and then glances up, Mito following to see a dark haired woman approaching with a grimace on her face.

“Hashirama,” she greets with a huff and then smiles at Mito. “Hello, it’s nice to see you awake.”

“Oh, thank you. I assume you were the one who helped me change?” Mito asks with a smile.

She hums, “Senju Touka, and yes. This idiot would have fainted at the mere thought of doing such a thing to a lady,” she remarks with a sharp grin and Hashirama coughs as his tea goes down wrong, face bright red at the mere mention.

“What!” he yelps out, “I, no, I wouldn’t think of…no,” he gets out and Mito can’t help but laugh at how flustered he’s suddenly become.

Touka chuckles too before her expression goes back to the grimace she had earlier. “I was sent by Elder Hien to inform you the Elders wish to speak with you tomorrow about plans against the Uchiha,” she says snidely, obviously annoyed with being turned into a messenger and that the Elder’s words were far less pleasant than what she delivered. “They’ve somehow got it into their heads that we should launch an all-out offensive against them. I don’t even know where they came up with it or how they think we could pull it off without extreme loss of life,” she mutters with a wave of her hand.

Hashirama groans, running a hand through his hair. “Please inform Elder Hien that I will meet with them at noon,” he says, sounding exhausted. “Thank you Touka,” he adds.

She hums, “Don’t thank me yet. I might kill the bastard if he talks down to me again like he just did,” she says and her grin turns near lethal. “It was nice meeting you Mito. I wouldn’t mind talking shop with you later if you want,” she says as she starts to turn away.

“I would like that,” Mito assures. Nodding, Touka stalks away and disappears from sight. Once Touka is out of earshot, Mito turns to Hashirama, “Has there been any sign of…” she arches a brow.

“No,” he admits, looking worried. “I can’t exactly have my clan on the lookout for him and while I can sense sort of through my Mokuton, I can’t actually sense him,” he says resignedly.

Mito frowns and nods, pressing her own sense out, but she can’t reach very far, her reserves low. With a huff, she stands abruptly and makes for her room, Hashirama looking after her and rummages through her gear. It’s untouched, the seals she placed on it intact and untriggered. That’s nice, though a little trusting of Hashirama. Any good shinobi would have at least attempted to get some information on an unknown person in their compound. Pulling out her seal paper and her ink and brush, she walks back out and sets it down, quickly grinding up some ink before she puts brush to paper.

The amplification seal grows under her brush, lines radiating out from the center of seal until with a final flourish, it is finished. Blowing on it to dry, she looks up to see him watching her curiously. “It’s an amplification seal. I’m a sensor, but my range isn’t good enough to reach that distance. This will help…hopefully,” she says and he nods.

Once the ink is dry, she presses her palm to it and begins radiating chakra into it and as it lights up, she feels her mind open up to the world around her and she rushes to the north. She spreads her awareness out, searching for that burning fire feeling of chakra she has come to know over the last few days in Madara’s presence but as she pushes herself out to even the limit of the seal, she can’t find any trace of him.

She panics for a minute, thinking the worst, until she remembers what time of day it is. If Tobirama is not a hawk right now…then she’s looking for the wrong thing. She focuses on the feeling of the wolf, a smolder of heat like the last glowing coal in a fire and as she senses out, she find it, not far to the north.

Her eyes open and she sags a little as the drain of the seal saps much of what she regained in chakra and then blinks when she feels a tendril of chakra curl around her wrist like a vine and feels strength radiating into her. She looks over to see Hashirama touching her wrist with a glowing fingertip as he presses his chakra into her to help.

“He’s not far from here, to the north,” she says, eyes wide with relief that she didn’t leave him to die.

She lets the seal go, her coils protesting their use so soon after her near draining but she ignores it and forces herself to stand with Hashirama. “You’re exhausted,” he murmurs. “You should stay here to…”

Mito sends him a pointed look and he stops talking, “I left him alone at his request even though I didn’t want to. I’m going with you,” she says simply and he nods. Quickly, she rushes into the room and changes into her spare clothing, tugging them on impatiently before grabbing her gear and settling it across her person.

Hashirama is where she left him. He doesn’t seem to have any sort of weapons or armor on him but then, she’s felt the deep well of his chakra. She wonders if he even needs it. Setting the thought aside for later contemplation, she follows him stealthily through the compound and over the northern wall. If anyone sees them, they don’t raise the alarm.

They run hard and fast, keeping to the branches and though her muscles remind her that she’s only just started to recover, she presses the ache out of her mind. She can relax once she’s sure Madara is safe and unharmed and once dawn comes, she can give him an earful for not telling her exactly what was going on.

She senses him before she sees him, the shadows thick under the trees. Hashirama pulls up and she lands next to him on a branch as a small shadow moves slowly, achingly, limping with each step determinedly in the direction of the Senju Compound.

Jumping down, Hashirama lands some distance away and Mito lands next to him. “Madara,” he says softly, not getting closer and the wolf stares at him, teeth bared silently, flanks trembling, breath wheezing from exhaustion but still standing. She can see the shine of blood in the moonlight where his coat is matted down from injuries that haven’t been seen to.

“Madara,” Mito says, stepping forward and he turns to stare at her. “He’s okay,” she whispers softly. “Tobirama is alive,” she assures him. “We made it in time.”

With a groaning whine, Madara’s legs crumple beneath him and he collapses to the leaf covered ground. Hashirama walks up slowly and as Mito looks at him, she can see the faint shine of tears on his cheeks. “Oh my friend, I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, reaching out to begin healing Madara.

Mito edges closer and lifts his shaggy head into her lap, running gentle hands over his fur. “Don’t worry, you’ll see each other soon,” she promises and he whines faintly, eyes closing as he finally succumbs to exhaustion.

Hashirama works diligently, hands soft as he closes the gashes littering Madara’s form. Finally, he sits back with a sigh. “He’ll live, though he’s going to be sore tomorrow when he changes,” he mutters.

“How long have they been like this?” she asks, meaning this forced change.

Hashirama sighs, “A little over three months now,” he admits, rubbing at his eyes in exhaustion. “I tried to help but…whatever this is, it is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. They’ve been looking for the thing that did this to them ever since.”

“Thing?” she asks, arching a brow.

“I never saw it,” he admits with a frown. “It would be best to wait for one of them to give the tale. They know it better.”

Mito nods, “Of course. But what do we do now?” she asks. “It would be a bad idea to bring him into the compound, especially since he’ll turn back with the dawn. If someone sees him, who know what chaos will ensue.”

Hashirama frowns, “I think I know a place we can put him for now…at least temporarily.” Gently, he eases his arms under the wolf’s body, but Madara doesn’t stir. “This way,” he says and heads west. They reach the river quickly and follow it south before Hashirama stops and turns eastward again, following a small tributary. At the end, a small spring wells up from a fissure in the stone and behind it is a wide crack in a low and wide cliff that leads into darkness.

“Tobi and I found this when we were children. It’s not a large cave but it should be fine for now. Few come this way on patrol. He’ll be safe for the night but we’ll need to figure out where to put him afterwards,” he says, turning sideways to slide through, grip careful on Madara’s limp form.

Mito follows close behind and looks around the rather large cave they step into. “I think I might be able to secure this so when he does change back no one will be able to sense him,” she says, reaching into her pouch to rummage for some of her premade seals.

Hashirama nods as he gently lowers Madara to the leaf and dirt strewn ground and Mito moves to the way they entered, putting up one of her seals with a touch of chakra. She originally made them to hide her camp in dangerous territories but she’s willing to sacrifice them to a good cause. By the time she finishes, Hashirama has Madara settled and has gone over him again to check his injuries.

“There, he’ll be nearly invisible to your patrols unless they actually come into the cavern,” she says, wiping her brow of sweat, her reserves nearly depleted but she’s willing to do so to keep him safe.

“Should we leave a note?” Hashirama asks.

“That might be best. He should stay here and recover,” she says, pulling out one of her blank message scrolls and writes a quick note to him telling what has happened and where he is. She tucks it next to the Madara’s body, where he’ll find it once he wakes up.

“I hate to leave him alone,” Hashirama says gloomily, staring down at his friend.

“You’ll be missed by your people if you don’t come back,” Mito says kindly. “I’ll return to check on him in the morning, if you’ll allow me to leave.”

“Of course,” he assures as they make their way back out of the cave. The moon is still high but slowly making its way back towards the horizon. Their run back through the trees is just as silent and she follows him back over the compound walls and back into the main house.

Hashirama makes his way towards the sealed room Tobirama is in and lets them both in. Mito is surprised when pale lids slit open as they settle next to him, red eyes staring up at them. “Anija,” Tobirama whispers.

“Hey Tobi,” Hashirama whispers while running a gentle hand over his hair. “How do you feel?”

“That’s a stupid question considering the state I arrived in,” he mutters with a frown.

Hashirama snorts softly, “Indulge your Anija,” he murmurs. Tobirama sighs and tries to sit up but Hashirama presses against his shoulder and forces him back down. “Don’t,” he warns. “You’re still healing and I don’t want you undoing my work by being impatient.”

“I need to find Madara,” Tobirama hisses out.

“He’s fine, Tobirama,” Mito assures and red eyes turn towards her. “We found him and put him somewhere safe while he heals,” she adds.

“How bad?” he croaks out.

“He’ll be tired and sore in the morning, but he’ll live,” Hashirama assures him. “You’re both lucky,” he adds softly. “You both scared me today.”

“I’m sorry, Anija,” Tobirama murmurs, starting to fade a little as relief sweeps through him. “I want to go to him tomorrow,” he demands.

“Tobi, you need to heal…,” Hashirama starts to say.

“I’ll take you,” Mito speaks up and Hashirama sends her a hard look. “He’ll only hurt himself trying to get out of here to reach him. This way he won’t hurt himself more.”

Hashirama sighs but nods. “Promise me,” Tobirama demands.

“I promise you will see him tomorrow,” Mito assures and he nods with a faint smile before sleep pulls him back under.

Hashirama sighs sadly, “When did it get to this that he doesn’t need me anymore?” he asks softly, though whether its rhetorical or meant for her, she’s not sure but Mito decides not to answer. Pulling his blanket up a little higher and tucking him in, Hashirama stands. “We should get some rest. It’s been a long day for all of us,” he says and Mito nods, standing to follow him out of the room and he seals it once more.

“Hashirama,” Mito calls out as he turns to leave and he turns to look at her, “I’ll help in any way I can to break this curse,” she offers.

“Thank you, Mito. I hope you can do more than I’ve been able to do,” Hashirama says with a pained look.

“You’re here for them both which is more than enough for both of them. Why else would he have sent me to you? They trust you and love you in their own ways,” she says with a wry smile.

Hashirama smiles a little tremulously, “Thank you, Mito. Good night,” he adds.

“Good night,” she says back and heads for the room she woke up in. She changes back into the sleep yukata and slides into the futon, but she keeps a kunai tucked under her pillow, just in case. She hasn’t made it this far by being stupid.

~*~

It’s nearly three weeks after that awful day that finds Tobirama back on the shore of the Naka. It’s strange for Madara to be on this side of the river, but after he had comforted Tobirama in his grief, the line between them seems to have blurred, no longer so distinct.

At the moment, they’ve mainly just been sitting in silence, enjoying the quiet as Madara fiddles with a rock in his hands again. “Why do you always grab a stone when you’re here?” he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

Madara looks up with a raised brow and then glances at his hand where the stone is resting like he hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed it. He shrugs, “Habit, mostly,” he admits. “It’s from when I used to meet up with Hashirama,” he adds.

“What were you doing that involved rocks?” Tobirama asks with a frown.

Madara grins as he stands up and motions for Tobirama to do so, the younger teen following him to the river’s edge. Madara pulls his arm back and with a deft flick, the rock sails across the water, skipping multiple times before it clatters onto the other shore.

“Skipping stones…that was the defining moment of your great, undying friendship,” Tobirama deadpans.

Madara sends him a glare, “It’s a little more than that,” he grumbles, bending back down to find another stone to meet his standards. “It…Hashirama was the first kid my age that I met that wasn’t from the clan, who didn’t know me as Tajima’s son and all the expectations that title came with. I’m sure it was the same for him. We were both just a couple of kids throwing rocks because it was fun. No training, no studying each other for weak points or for lies. We were just…kids,” he says, voice going soft at the end with wistfulness.

Tobirama stares at him shocked, never having consideres how big of an impact their chance meeting had had on them both. “Oh,” he mutters, looking away for a moment. “It doesn’t look that hard,” he finally says as a peace offering.

Madara smirks, “Well come on. Let’s see if that genius brain of yours can do it,” he goads and Tobirama shoots him a sharp look before bending down and snatching up a rock blindly.

Turning to the river, he studies it for a moment and then pulls back to throw the rock. It skips once and then plops into the river with a small splash. Madara snorts softly beside him and he sends him a glare. “This is stupid,” he grumbles, flushed in embarrassment. It’s been a while since something didn’t come naturally.

Madara steps closer, still chuckling. “Don’t be like that. You’re always saying knowledge is important. You never know, knowing how to skip rocks might come in handy one day. Here,” he tosses the stone in his hand at Tobirama.

Tobirama catches it and looks down at it, feeling the residual heat coming from it after being held in Madara’s hand so long. “You want stones like this, smooth and oval,” he says and Tobirama nods, seeing the shape of the stone. Madara steps up behind him and to the side and Tobirama tenses but Madara simply reaches for his dominant right hand. “Hold it like this,” he says softly and Tobirama feels his neck warm at the wall of heat at his back, Madara’s hands still warm even through his leather gloves.

“When you make the throw, aim a little higher,” he says, gripping his hand and showing the throw in full by manipulating his arm. Stepping back, Madara nods. “Go on,” he says and Tobirama feels colder without him behind him.

Frowning, he studies the river and then with a quick flick of his arm, the rock skips across the river nearly making it to the other side before it plops into the water. “Not bad for only a second try,” Madara jokes. “Hashirama had to help me to make it to the other side,” he admits with a shrug.

Frowning, Tobirama squats down and paws through the river rocks at his feet before he finds one of similar shape and stands back up. Turning back to the river, he adjusts himself a little bit and then throws again, the rock skipping completely across this time to clatter against the opposite shore. “Like I said, not so hard,” he shoots back and Madara gives an unamused look.

“Yeah, well, we can’t all be geniuses,” he mutters, bending down to find another stone and skips it across absently.

Tobirama smirks and bends down, picking up a rock randomly, “I could probably find out the best shape to make it skip further,” he mutters, examining the water smoothed stone. “It probably wouldn’t take too many attempts,” he mutters with a frown.

“Hey, no,” Madara grumbles, thumping a fist onto his head gently, “this isn’t some experiment,” he huffs out. Tobirama blinks up at him, “It’s just skipping rocks,” he adds grumpily.

Tobirama flushes at being seen getting caught up in his thoughts, “Ah, yes…sorry,” he mutters, tossing the stone back onto the shore. “I…I can see the appeal,” he adds.

“Of?” Madara asks with a tilt to his head, looking curiously at Tobirama.

“Doing something for fun that isn’t meant to hurt,” he explains. “I…I never got to do that much when I was younger…especially after father found out about you two,” he admits.

“Oh,” Madara mutters with a grimace, looking away.

Tobirama shrugs like it’s of no consequence, “He didn’t trust Anija much after that which meant he focused on me. It was for the best. It kept father’s attention off of Hashirama,” he explains.

“What?” Madara croaks out.

Tobirama doesn’t look at him, “I don’t think Anija would have survived being honed into the weapon I was…I am, not without something integral to him breaking,” he explains softly, not meeting Madara’s gaze.

“What the hell, Senju!” Madara suddenly explodes and Tobirama flinches back in surprise. “Older brothers are supposed to protect our younger brothers, not the other way around,” he huffs, anger evident on his face. “Are you telling me Hashirama…that he never tried to stop your father from going too far?” he asks hotly.

Tobirama stares at him, surprised by his concern, “Why would he? Father is clan head and to go against him would simply cause strife in the clan and possibly even cause a rift to form. I could take it and didn’t need him to step in,” Tobirama mutters. His shoulders sag a little, “Sometimes…sometimes I think he hasn’t fully forgiven me over my…ruining of your friendship,” he adds, a small trace of bitterness edging his words.

“I’m going to pummel him the next time we fight,” Madara growls out.

“What does that have to do with what I said?” Tobirama demands.

“You were a child!” Madara yells out and Tobirama stares in shock. “You…you were Izuna’s age and he’s mad that you did as you were ordered to do?” he asks incredulously. “Izuna was ordered to spy on me too. I was annoyed but I never blamed him for my father’s paranoia. What did he expect a child to do against his father?” he huffs, stomping along the shore in his anger.

“I don’t need you to defend me,” Tobirama snaps, annoyed at him even if part of him twists at his words.

“That’s not the point,” Madara explains with a glare. “He would go on and on about his brother…about you, and wanting to make peace so you would be safe and then he turns around and does nothing to protect you from your father…because he’s nursing resentment over something you couldn’t have said no to?” Madara growls out. “How could I trust someone to make peace with my clan when he does something like that to his own brother?” he demands.

Tobirama stares at him with wide eyes, “Why?” he asks softly.

Madara stops mid-rant at his question. “What?” he asks.

“Why do you care?” he asks sharply, frustrated at not understanding. “Why get so worked up over your enemy? You should want me dead? Why aren’t you using these meet ups to gain the upper hand? You were just at my back and you could have attacked me easily and didn’t. Why do you keep doing these irrational things?” he demands, throwing his hands up.

Madara blinks back at him completely caught off-guard by his rant. He straightens slowly, taking in the tight set of Tobirama’s shoulders and the pinched look on his face. “Because no one should do that to their family, even if they are my ‘enemy’. Because I may be a shinobi, but I’m not the monster people think I am. Because I thought we might be friends…at least a little,” he mutters, flushing a little, stepping closer to lay a hand on Tobirama’s shoulder.

“That’s…that’s a stupid thing to expose yourself over. If I’m ordered to kill you or capture you, I will,” he informs him. “It’s pointless to claim friendship when we’re at war,” he adds softly.

Madara snorts softly, edging closer while pulling Tobirama into a loose hug that the teen could break out of easily, “Yeah, I get the feeling that you wouldn’t, even if ordered. You’re a stubborn bastard and I doubt Hashirama would ever order such a thing,” he adds.

Tobirama huffs in annoyance, but doesn’t break the loose hold, enjoying the heat Madara gives off and lets his forehead rest against his shoulder. “Shut up, you’re annoying when you’re being absurd,” he mutters and Madara laughs softly.

~*~

She wakes with the dawn and sets about getting ready for the day. She finds her clothes from the day before outside her door folded neatly and she stores them away. It’s not hard to find Hashirama, following his beacon of chakra and soon she stumbles onto a different section of garden, Hashirama seated on a small bench in it as he drinks some tea.

“Good morning, Lady Mito,” he greets with a smile. Mito arches a brow at the use of her title, never having told him who exactly she is. Hashirama flushes a little, “Ah, Touka informed me. She’s had missions dealing with Uzushio in the past and knows of the ruling family,” he explains.

“Forgive me for not informing you sooner,” she murmurs with a smile and a bow.

“I think we had more pressing matters to see to than proper introductions,” Hashirama waves off and she nods. “Would you take tea with me before you leave with Tobirama?” he asks.

“I would love to,” she agrees, settling on the bench next to him. He pours her a cup and she hums softly, enjoying the strong tea as it finishes waking her up. “You know your way around a tea pot,” she says after swallowing a mouthful.

Hashirama grins mirthfully, “I very much enjoy making it. We have a contract with Tea Country, supplying some of our produced works for their lovely teas. This is one of my favorites,” he admits.

“It is delicious,” she assures him, taking another sip. “How is Tobirama?” she asks softly, her senses assuring her that there is no one but them around to overhear her.

“Awake and ready to leave, though he’s patient enough to wait for you to wake up,” Hashirama says with a sigh. “I’ve arranged for your horse to be waiting at the gate. I will come along after you this afternoon, once I convince my Elders now is not a good time for all-out war. Will you keep them there until I can come?” he asks.

“Of course,” she agrees and finishes her tea. “Thank you for the tea. I should probably get going before he decides to fly off without me,” she says, setting her cup aside and stands.

“Of course, this way,” Hashirama agrees, standing as well and leading her towards the room Tobirama is in. When he unseals the door and opens it, an impatient screech reaches their ears. “Patience, Tobi. You’ll see him soon,” Hashirama assures, stepping aside so Mito can come over to lift the hawk gently off the bed and into her arms. He flaps his wings a few times and then settles now that they are moving. “We’ll see you soon,” Mito says with a bow to Hashirama.

“Of course,” he says and then reaches out to brush a finger over Tobirama’s breast feathers, “Don’t do anything stupid until I get there,” he warns. Tobirama narrows his eyes and pecks at Hashirama’s hand, making the man laugh softly.

Hashirama escorts them to the gate where Ryujin, looking well rested, stands with a young boy holding his reins. Hashirama helps Mito up onto the saddle as Tobirama shifts from her hand to his perch on the saddle. “Thank you, Lady Mito. I am glad I could be of assistance. Please tell him to be safe,” he says and she nods.

“Of course, Lord Hashirama. Thank you for your generous hospitality. I will be sure to inform my father of your deeds,” she adds and he nods.

With one last smile, she spurs Ryujin on through the gate and down the road leading away from the compound. She can feel eyes on her but the patrol doesn’t follow. It takes a moment to orient herself and remember which way the cave is, now that it’s daylight and she’s coming from a different direction.

Turning Ryujin to the south, she urges him onward, keeping an eye on Tobirama in case his injuries tire him out. “Don’t worry, he’s safe. I made sure no one would find him accidentally and I left him a message saying we would be coming there this morning,” she says softly. Tobirama turns to look at her and then blinks slowly and tucks his head under his wing, resting now that they’re moving ever closer to Madara.

It takes thirty minutes to find the cave, Mito getting a little turned around and having to find a way down the rocky cliff face the cave entrance is pressed into. The small tributary trickles by softly and covers the sounds of their arrival as she dismounts and leads Ryujin to a clear area with lush grass and close to the water.

Tobirama perks his head up, red eyes taking in the location with interest and recognition. Taking him from the perch, he fluffs his feathers but holds still as Mito carries him to the crack in the rock and deeper into the earth.

A soft scuff of movement is her only warning and she freezes as a blade is pressed to her throat before a soft huff of recognition announces Madara’s conscious state, though he looks like hell. He completely ignores her though once he sees who she is holding and he reaches out quickly.

Tobirama flaps clumsily across the gap and clutches at Madara’s hand with his talons, the man ignoring the pricking of claws as he pulls the hawk close. “You’re alive,” he whispers brokenly, settling heavily onto the ground as he runs shaky hands over white feathers.

Tobirama chirps softly, reaching out to preen the thick fall of Madara’s hair over his shoulder. Mito turns away at the broken sob barely muffled in Madara’s throat, the shine of tears visible in the light coming through the cave entrance. She gives them time to reassure each other that they’re both alive and goes to inspect her seals.

They’re still holding, though the chakra she put into them is nearly used up. She adds more to it, not wanting anyone to find them right now accidentally. Finished, she turns back to the two to find Madara watching her as she moves.

“It’s good to see you up and about,” she says with a smile.

Madara grimaces at the reminder of what happened. “Thank you, Mito, for what you did. I…I don’t know what I would have done had he…,” he can’t finish and Tobirama nips at his chin to distract him.

“You’re welcome, though it might have made things a little easier to understand if you had told me beforehand what was wrong with the two of you,” she says with a hint of annoyance.

Madara huffs, “Yeah, I’m sure it was confusing. Who would ever believe us unless they witnessed it for themselves?” he asks and she nods in understanding. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you but you have to understand, this curse makes us vulnerable. If anyone ever realized just what we mean to each other…they wouldn’t stop to use us against each other and our clans,” he says wearily.

“I’m sure,” she says with a frown. “I hope you know I would never put either of you in danger,” she says and Madara nods with a faint smile. “Now, please tell me exactly what happened. Hashirama says he tried to help but he’d never seen the likes of this curse afflicting the two of you. Maybe I might be able to offer better assistance. I have seen much in my travels,” she offers.

Madara’s eyes widen a little before he frowns thoughtfully. Finally he nods, “I could tell you but…,” he pauses, “It’s easier to show you,” he admits.

“How would you do that?” she asks, intrigued.

As she watches, his eyes shift to red, glowing in the half light of the cave. “My Sharingan recorded everything that day. I can show it to you with a genjutsu,” he explains, “With your consent,” he adds.

“Do it,” she orders and looks him in the eye as the tomoe around his pupil begin to spin and the world falls away from around her.

~*~

“Anija, I told you, I don’t want a celebration,” Tobirama grumbles.

“Tobi, come on. It’s your birthday soon and you only turn seventeen once. Why not celebrate?” Hashirama asks with a whine, half draped over Tobirama as he works on something in his room. “And you should take a break. You’ve been working so hard lately and taking so many missions recently. Enjoy yourself for once,” he sighs dramatically, slumping off of Tobirama to land on his back neck to him, looking up at Tobirama.

“You just want an excuse to get drunk,” Tobirama says with a pointed look down at Hashirama.

“Tobiiiii,” Hashirama whines.

Tobirama rolls his eyes, lifting his brush to mark something down before he pulls his hand back and lets out a sigh, “Fine,” he grumbles. “You can throw a party but I’m not going to go to it for long,” he huffs. With a frown, his hand snaps out and Hashirama jumps at the cool brush that smears over his forehead leaving behind a streak of ink.

“Tobi, that was so mean,” Hashirama says with a whine, sitting up and goes to wipe his forehead with his sleeve before thinking better of it and stands to go find a cloth to clean the ink off. Snorting, Tobirama goes back to his work with a faint smile.

~

“Your birthday is coming up?” Madara asks as Tobirama explains Hashirama’s most recent antics.

“That’s what you get from that whole story?” Tobirama grumbles, jotting a note down on the scroll in his lap.

“Yes, yes, Hashirama is a whiny older brother, that’s not new,” Madara waves off from where he’s running a hand over his gunbai, checking it for damage after coming back from a mission to his, now their, quiet place. “So how old are you then?”

“I’ll be seventeen,” Tobirama says with an annoyed huff, scratching through something and writing something above it. “And the point is that birthdays are pointless. Just because I happened to be born on this specific day doesn’t make it any more special than any other day. He just wants to get drunk and pull me away from my research,” he grumbles, not looking up as he continues to write.

“Yes, because celebrating with family and clan, and actually having a good time like normal people is such a hardship,” Madara drawls, setting his gunbai aside to look over at the teen.

Tobirama huffs in annoyance, “I am not adverse to it, if it was just family. But Anija likes to turn it into a big spectacle every year. I’d rather not have to deal with half my clan drunk off their asses and pretending to care it’s my birthday when half the time they could care less,” he grumbles. “False gratitude is not a very good present,” he adds.

“Ah, yeah,” Madara mutters, understanding where Tobirama is coming from, “Do you at least get good presents from the rest of your family?” he asks curiously.

“Now that father has passed, it’s just Hashirama and Touka left,” he says with a shrug, not seeming phased by having so few close family members. “Most of my other cousins don’t really like me. But yes, they do usually get me something nice,” he adds with a roll of his eyes.

Madara huffs, staring silently at the pale teen that seems to have become engrossed in whatever he’s working on. After their talk a few months back, he seems to have opened up more, relaxing around Madara and even showing a very dry humor that Madara could appreciate whole heartedly.

Red eyes suddenly glance up at him from under his pale fringe, and wasn’t that weird seeing him without his happuri the first time, and he arches a brow at Madara. “What?” he asks, lips pursed in a faint pout that Madara does not think is cute in the slightest.

“Nothing,” Madara says, looking away and ignores Tobirama staring at him for a few seconds longer before shrugging and going back to his work. Madara sends a few glances back towards the teen. He’s noticed recently that Tobirama is…well, aesthetically pleasing…for a Senju, he mentally adds. He’s certainly not like Hashirama who’s big and broad. Tobirama is built on lean lines and angular features. He must look a lot like his mother as he’s seen Butsuma, and Hashirama is built more along his father’s lines than Tobirama.

“Maybe I should get you a present than,” he speaks up suddenly and watches as Tobirama’s brush jerks sharply at his words before red eyes glare up at him. “It would be rude to not get you one,” he adds with a grin.

“You don’t need to worry yourself. I don’t need any presents,” he grumbles back, pulling out a cloth to dab at the ink he just streaked across his scroll in a vain attempt to fix the mistake.

“I think I will. Come by here the day before and I’ll give it to you,” he says and Tobirama glares at him like some offended cat and then huffs before turning back to his scroll. Grinning, Madara turns back to his gunbai, mind turning over what Tobirama would like.

~

It’s nearing night time by the time he is able to extract himself from Hashirama’s clutches over his birthday celebrations for the next day. A quick and simple meal of rice and miso to satisfy his hunger is had and then he’s slipping out of the compound to head for the river. He can distantly feel Madara heading that way as well from his own compound.

He arrives first and paces a little, annoyed that Madara would feel the need get him a gift when he doesn’t need or want it. He very much ignores the warm curl in his chest at Madara caring enough to get him one, even if it might be in jest. He has grown to…care about the idiot Uchiha. Madara can actually keep up with him half he time when he explains some of the things he’s working on…which is more than he can say for most of the people he knows. Only Touka even attempts it and she demands he talk with her about his things after she’s had her morning tea and is actually awake enough to think.

A soft scattering of stones has him looking up to see Madara on his side of the river dressed down from his usual outfit. A soft looking yukata in Uchiha black, the uchiwa a splash of color against it, makes him almost disappear into the shadows around them.

“Hey,” Madara greets with a smile, expression soft and warm and Tobirama feels that same curl of warmth he’s been feeling lately whenever they meet up and the man smiles at him.

“Hello,” he greets back with a soft huff. “Well, I’m here, though I had to escape Anija’s octopus hold to do so. Where’s my present?” he demands, hoping the shadows will hide his faint flush.

“I thought you didn’t want a present?” Madara asks stepping closer, smile turning into a smirk and Tobirama glares at him.

“Yes, well, experience with Anija has taught me to just go along with his harebrained ideas once he gets them into his head. It’s easier than fighting,” he says with a shrug. “Well, hand it over so I can go back home,” he demands.

“Ah, ah, close your eyes,” Madara says with a grin.

“Is that really necessary?” Tobirama demands.

“It is. It’s supposed to be a surprise,” Madara explains. “Now stop fighting me and close your eyes,” he says and for a moment he looks nervous before he grins bigger, “Unless you’re scared.”

Tobirama sighs loudly through his nose and finally closes his eyes…and waits, hand outstretched. Madara’s warm hand, he’s not wearing his usual gloves Tobirama notices absently, pulls at him. Tobirama allows it, curious about what would require him being manhandled and then his thoughts screech to a halt as he feels warm lips pressed to his.

Heart in his throat, he freezes, not sure how to react to the fact that Madara, Uchiha Madara, is kissing him…his first kiss his mind helpfully supplies. Madara pulls back and Tobirama blinks his eyes open to see Madara’s face so much closer than it’s ever been. “Happy birthday,” he says softly.

“I…what…” he stumbles over the words, trying to get his mind moving. “Why?” he finally asks.

Madara smiles at his flustered and stammering state. “I thought about what you might like. Something practical came to mind, but that seemed too…impersonal. You didn’t want something that would put the spot light on you and anything extravagant or large would surely draw Hashirama’s attention and you’d have to explain or lie to him about who gave it to you. But this…well, this seemed like something you might like,” he says with a smile, “Unless it wasn’t?” he says, a bit of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

“I didn’t say that,” Tobirama snaps, looking away, feeling heat building in his face and knows that Madara can probably see it in the dark, can probably feel the heat too.

“Oh,” Madara says and Tobirama’s heart skips at the smugness in his voice, “Then perhaps I should add that there is more than one,” he says lowly and Tobirama stares up at him with wide eyes, heart beating humming bird fast in his chest as Madara leans back into his space and he doesn’t know what to do, what is he supposed to do…

Warm breath ghosts over his face and then lips press against his again and his mind stops once more, panic stopped in its tracks as he just presses forward, a soft noise escaping as Madara kisses him. He comes back to himself clutching at Madara’s yukata, his whole front warm with this furnace of a man pressed against him. Madara smiles down at his dazed expression and kisses him again and again.

They’re pressed against a nearby tree, Tobirama caged in by heat and muscle and so okay with it right now, Madara guiding him into kissing back, making encouraging noises and he could get used to this. Madara pulls back panting and Tobirama isn’t much better, lips tingling. “Do you want to return my gift?” he asks smugly.

“Shut up, idiot,” Tobirama snaps and uses his hair to pull him back down to demand another one and Madara obliges, the two of them of height with Tobirama maybe just a little taller.

A sudden gasp has them pulling apart and reaching for hidden weapons and looking to see a large figure standing near them and it takes a second to recognize Hashirama staring at them with wide eyes. “Anija,” Tobirama yelps, flushing.

“How did you not sense him coming?” Madara demands hotly, lowly.

“I was distracted,” he snaps back, “and you’re a sensor too, idiot.”

“What…what is this?” Hashirama asks slowly, looking between the two of them and their rumpled clothing.

“Really Anija, it’s obvious what this is,” Tobirama snaps, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, acting more like a child caught sneaking sweets.

“True,” he says lowly, gaze flicking between the two of them, “Perhaps I should ask how long has this been going on?”

“Which part, the kissing or the meeting up?” Madara asks while clearing his throat with a worried look, not sure how Hashirama is going to react to him kissing his little brother.

“Both,” Hashirama says evenly.

“The kissing just happened,” Tobirama says with a sigh. “We’ve been talking and meeting up since just after me sixteenth birthday,” he admits.

“How did this come about?” Hashirama asks with his voice still even.

“You remember that mission I was ambushed on?” Tobirama asks and Hashirama nods. “I wasn’t helped by some villagers,” he says softly. “It was Madara,” he admits, recalling those few days in the man’s care.

“I see,” Hashirama says, voice going a little cool as he steps closer and Madara is tensed to move in case Hashirama reacts badly. “My next question is,” he moves quicker than Madara can prepare for without his Sharingan active and Hashirama grips the front of his yukata, “what are your intentions with my baby brother, Madara?” he asks lowly, an edge of killing intent coming out.

“Anija,” Tobirama snaps smacking Hashirama upside the head and moves to pull them apart. “No,” he growls out. “We are not doing this.”

“But Tobi, you’re my brother, I need to make sure his intentions are pure,” Hashirama tries to explain as Tobirama pushes him back.

“I’m an adult and can make my own decisions,” he reminds his brother. “Whether this is just a fling or something more has nothing to do with you, so butt out,” he growls, finally peeling Hashirama off Madara and stepping between them.

“I don’t want just a fling,” Madara mutters, gripping the back of Tobirama’s kimono shirt with a glare to the side, though Tobirama can faintly see the flush on his cheeks at admitting this in front of Hashirama.

“What?” Tobirama asks softly, turning wide eyes onto him. Madara nods uncomfortably. “Oh,” he says, warmth curling in his chest and he reaches out to curl his hand into Madara’s. “I…I think I’m okay with not a fling too,” he admits.

“Oh you two,” Hashirama cries out, suddenly sweeping the two of them up into a crushing hug. “Oh, this is just perfect. We could get the peace we all want with this,” he says excitedly and gearing up to enthusiastically ramble on about it.

“No,” Tobirama snaps and Hashirama stops mid word.

“You…you don’t want peace?” he asks in shock.

“That’s not what I meant, Anija. Let us figure out what this means to us before you go using it to revolutionize the world and drag everyone into peace,” he snaps, flushing.

Hashirama eyes widen and then an understanding look passes over his face, “Ah, yes…I’m sorry. I got carried away. I am happy for you…for both of you,” he adds with a sincere smile. “You both deserve to be happy.”

“Thank you,” Madara mutters but he’s relaxed some.

“I’ll keep quiet about this until you’re both ready to be public about it,” Hashirama adds.

“Thank you, Anija,” Tobirama says. Hashirama smiles broadly and pulls them back into another hug, though much less crushing than the earlier one.

“Be happy,” he whispers and they both smile at him. Hashirama pulls back and steps away. “Don’t think this will get you out of your birthday celebration or a long talk later about this,” Hashirama adds and Tobirama sighs but nods with a faint grimace. “Okay, I’ll…uh, I’ll just go now. Forget I was here,” he says and then rushes back towards the compound.

Tobirama looks to Madara and then they both burst into chuckles as the ridiculousness of the situation finally hits them. “Oh sage,” Madara mutters pressing his face into Tobirama’s shoulder.

“That…could have gone a lot worse,” Tobirama mutters and Madara nods. “Did you really mean it?” he asks softly, uncertainly.

“I did,” Madara assures him, turning his head to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I like you…a lot. I…I want to see where this goes,” he says, pulling back to look Tobirama in the eyes. “If you’ll let me?”

Tobirama nods, “I…yes, I’d like that,” he agrees and lets Madara pull him into another kiss.

~

Hashirama finally lets Tobirama go off to bed the next night after forcing him into celebrating his birthday and only a short talk about his new relationship with Madara. Now, edging closer to midnight, much of the clan has made for bed, only the heavy hitters staying up to keep going on the alcohol he brought out specifically for this night.

It’s not just for Tobi’s birthday, though that is the main reason. This is a time to let his clan celebrate and enjoy themselves, to boost morale and let some steam off. The last few months since Butsuma’s death and his ascension as clan head have been turbulent and rough on everyone, many unsure how things would go with him as clan head.

It had been good to see his people happy and carefree and he’s maybe drunk a little more sake than he should and he’s more sloppy drunk than happy buzz right now, but he doesn’t care. Standing shakily on teetering legs, he starts to make his way towards home.

He giggles happily as he recalls the night before, the look of shock and pleasure on Tobi’s face when Madara had admitted to wanting an actual relationship and not something short lived. His brother deserves happiness and he’ll readily admit he hasn’t been as big a contributor to his brother’s happiness in a long time.

When did they get so distant? He wonders, wandering through the compound. He loves his brother, his last brother but sometimes he feels like they’re too different. Would they even be this close if they weren’t brothers? Shaking his depressing thoughts off, he goes back to giddily giggling.

“Lord Hashirama, you look positively gleeful,” someone says and he looks over to see Elder Shigeru, one of the nicer of the elders who listens when he talks about making peace, a kindred spirit who is just as tired of war as he is. The elder’s face is red with his own good cheer and a healthy dosage of alcohol in his system. “Has something good happened?” he asks.

“Oh, it’s wonderful, Shigeru,” Hashirama admits. “You mustn’t tell anyone,” he whispers hotly, words slurring and Shigeru nods quickly. “Tobi has found someone he likes…maybe even loves,” he whispers with wide eyes. “My baby brother looked so happy.”

“That is good news,” Shigeru agrees. “Who has caught his eye? Someone extraordinary to draw him from his research,” Shigeru says.

Hashirama nods excitedly, “Shh,” he hisses and pulls the man closer. “You’ll never guess, but it’s…Madara,” he whispers, completely forgetting in his drunken state that he promised to keep it secret. “Apparently he saved Tobi’s life and they’ve been talking and now…oh it’s just perfect and it will help lead to peace between our clans. My brother and my best friend…I can’t wait,” he says excitedly. “And Tobi deserves something good in his life.”

“That he does,” Shigeru says and Hashirama giggles, looking ahead and doesn’t see the annoyed look cross Shigeru’s face or the way his eyes flash black for a moment. “I’ll help you when the time comes,” he promises.

“Yes, yes, but shh, they want to wait…to get to know each other better before coming forward,” Hashirama says and Shigeru nods in understanding. “I need to go to bed here now. I’ve got a lot of work to do to be ready for when they do come forward,” he says gleefully and extracts himself from Shigeru’s hold. “Good night, Shigeru. Look forward to peace,” he says.

“Good night, Lord Hashirama,” Shigeru says absentmindedly as he watches Hashirama stumble away. With a frown, he walks off, disappearing back into the shadows.

Morning finds Hashirama dealing with a massive hangover, blurry memories that he has a hard time figuring out and Elder Shigeru dead in his bed, killed by a heart attack apparently. No one questions it, the man’s age obvious, but something doesn’t sit right in Hashirama’s mind, though he can’t place why.

~

Madara looks over Tobirama and frowns at the dark smudges under his eyes. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week. Did you go on another research binge?” he demands, pulling the younger man closer and wrapping him in his arms in the weak afternoon sunlight.

Tobirama, for his part, doesn’t fight and simply sags against him, humming softly in his throat. “Maybe,” he admits quietly, not meeting Madara’s gaze. “Anija and Touka kept me fed and watered,” he mutters.

“Well, that’s better than last time,” Madara mutters and presses a brief kiss to the side of his head. “Come on, let’s sit down somewhere and you can tell me what your brain cooked up this time,” he murmurs and Tobirama nods against him, following easily.

Madara puts his back to a tree and sits down between some of its roots, pulling Tobirama into his lap and lets the younger man curl into him while soaking up his warmth. They haven’t been able to do this much here lately, between missions, skirmishes between their clans and the frantic dash to get enough food and supplies for winter. Now that the colder days are here, things have slowed down.

Tobirama shivers as the wind whips by and he pulls Madara’s haori around the both of them. “Warm,” Tobirama mutters into the side of his neck and Madara huffs.

“Is all you want from me is to use me as a heated perch?” he demands waspishly, though he’s still grinning.

“Among other things,” Tobirama says and Madara can feel his smirk against his neck and the warm breaths puffing against his skin.

“Is that so,” he murmurs lowly and feels a faint shiver pass through Tobirama, knowing how his voice affects him, something he’s learned over the last ten months since that fateful day he got up the courage to kiss him. “What other things?” he asks.

“Your clothes,” Tobirama says, pulling the thick haori tighter around himself. “You’re mind and this,” he says, lifting his face out of its warm spot to press a kiss to Madara’s lips.

“Hmm,” Madara hums against his lips, “I think I can handle giving these to you,” he admits with a chuckle.

Tobirama suddenly stiffens in his grip, head shooting up to stare around and he reacts on instinct, Sharingan coming out as he looks around for the threat. “What is it?” Madara asks, not even questioning him. Tobirama is a far better sensor than he could ever be. If he felt something that Madara didn’t, it’s there.

“I…I don’t know,” he murmurs. “Maybe I just imagined it,” he says with a heavy frown. “I can’t feel anything now.”

Madara stands up, Tobirama following as they look around. Gaze flicking around, he studies the world in all its clarity with the Sharingan and frowns, something standing out on the ground, though he’s not sure what it is. Tobirama sticks close as he steps closer and he bends down, brushing some leaves away to reveal a thin bit of black wire hidden under the leaves.

“The hell?” he mutters and pulls it up a little bit and sees it goes even further under the loam of the forest.

Tobirama lets out a sudden hiss and Madara springs up, turning to see something black and vine like springing up out of the shadows of the roots they had been sitting by earlier to wrap around Tobirama’s arm.

“Tobirama,” he grits out, moving to lash out but before he can, the paler man lashes out himself, chakra sparking and the water in the cold air coming to his call, a blade of ice ready to slice through whatever has him. Just before it hits its target, Tobirama yells, his control suddenly gone and the ice dissolves into water that splashes harmlessly to the ground as the man collapses to his knees.

“No,” Madara yells with chakra sparking at his lips as he draws in a lungful of air.

“Madara, no, wait,” Tobirama says, eyes wide but it’s too late, the stream of pure flame leaving his mouth and like the water, the flames stop before the reach their target, disappearing as if they never existed and suddenly he feels like he’s been battling for hours, his chakra drained to almost nothing and he grunts as he lands on his knees, trembling with weakness and exhaustion.

“Well, that was easier to do than expected,” someone says, voice oily and sneering and the black vine thickens and grows as a suddenly humanoid creature emerges from the hollow beneath the roots of the tree. “Thank you for the chakra. That will make this so much easier,” it adds.

“What the hell are you?” Madara growls out.

“That’s of no concern to you. What you should be of concern is what I’m about to do to you,” it says easily with a wide face splitting grin. Yellow glowing eyes stare back at them from a void of a face. It tuts at them slowly, prowling around their prone forms, too weak to move. “You just had to go and ruin everything. Years…centuries of work, and you nearly ruined it all,” it sighs, squatting to put them at eye level.

“Do you understand how much work I’ve done to get things where they are and you had to go and fall…in love,” it says incredulously. “Such a horrid emotion: love. You humans are so fond of it, so willing to overlook so much because of it. I can’t let this little affair continue,” it mutters, standing back up.

“So what, you’re just going to kill us then?” Madara asks.

“Oh no, I still need you, or well I need you,” it says, stepping towards Madara and touching just under one of his Sharingan and Madara jerks his head out of its reach. “I have plans for these, but I need time. So…I need to keep you two busy until I’m ready.”

“You’re the reason the Senju and Uchiha have been at war for so many centuries,” Tobirama finally speaks up and Madara’s heart lurches at the thought of centuries of warring because of one creature.

“Hmm, you are a smart one, little Senju. Yes, it’s been a part of my plan since the beginnings of your clans. It’s hard to get what I want without war and it’s just so easy to keep your two clans fighting. A dead clan member by your enemy and you were only too willing to fall back into war over and over again. You all claim to want peace but you so easily fall to war. Maybe you just like war too much to change, despite that idiot’s attempts,” it mutters, meaning Hashirama.

It steps back with a grin, “Now, you know far too much. Let’s make sure you can’t interfere.” It raises its hands and the ground beneath them begins to glow, the wire Madara found shining with stolen chakra and he feels something burning through his veins and Madara grunts with the pain.

“You will be punished for daring to upend my plans and the most fitting punishment is to separate you two. Love is such sweet emotion but a weakness as well. Now, your love will be your punishment. So long as the moon and sun rise and set in the sky, you will never be together again. Never able to see each other, to touch…to hold each other,” it says gleefully, the chakra growing brighter and brighter, the pain building and building.

He can see Tobirama in front of him, shaking and yelling in pain. As he watches, the chakra rises up to envelope him, the air humming and shivering with it and with a resounding crack of bone, Tobirama collapses to the ground and into himself and in the blink of an eye, where he once was lies a white hawk, familiar red marking around its beak.

Before he can react, the pain redoubles and with a scream of rage and pain, he blacks out, the world fading away into darkness as he collapses to the dirt. The last thing he hears is faint laughter before that too is gone.

~

With a groan, he opens his eyes to see that only a little time has passed, maybe a few hours. Everything hurts, each beat of his heart sending new waves of pain through him. With a grunt, he forces himself to sit up, despite the pain and looks around.

The creature is gone. He looks around frantically and spies the white hawk on the ground, lying so still and he panics, fearing the worst. “Tobirama,” he cries, rushing over to gently kneel beside him, hand gentle as they run over feathers. A soft cry emerges and red eyes blink open to stare up at him. ”Oh thank the flame,” he mutters and he slowly picks him up, cradling him in his arms.

Wings awkwardly flap and slowly right themselves as Tobirama becomes more aware of his new body. Head cocking to the side, he lets out a faint cry of uncertainty. “I don’t know what it did or where it went,” he says, guessing what he would want to know first. “You…you’re a hawk,” he says and Tobirama sends him a glare, obviously aware of what has happened. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking around.

“Fuck, I don’t know what to do,” he hisses.

Tobirama lets out a loud startling cry and looks to the east, “You want me to get Hashirama?” he asks and Tobirama nods with a flap of his wings.

“Okay, okay,” reaching into his pouch, he pulls a scroll out and scrawls a message to Hashirama to come at once to the spot by the river and then pulls out a kunai to nick his palm. He almost isn’t able to summon one of his summons his chakra more embers compared to the normal inferno it usually is but he manages to summon a small kestrel, the tiny falcon fluttering its wings at him before accepting his note in its talons. “Take that to Hashirama,” he orders and it nods, taking to the air and disappears from sight.

It takes nearly an hour for Hashirama to reach them, pelting full force to their spot. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” he demands, looking around frantically. “Where’s Tobi?” he asks.

“Something attacked us,” Madara grits out, standing shakily, still clutching Tobirama close. “It…it did something to us. It did this,” he whispers, showing Hashirama the white hawk and watches as he slowly takes in its pale white form and the red markings so similar to Tobirama’s facial markings.

“T-Tobirama?” Hashirama says slowly and the hawk cries shrilly in acknowledgement. Paling, he steps closer, hands already glowing green as he runs them over Tobirama and then he pauses. “It doesn’t feel like you,” he says with a frown, “Not completely. It’s more like a bit of you wrapped up in this form,” he says, hands glowing brighter as he pours more chakra into the jutsu. “I’ve no idea what was done,” he whispers. He does the same to Madara, but can’t find anything wrong with him. “What was it?” Hashirama asks, hands shaking.

“I don’t know. I’ve not…,” he stops, a flare of familiar chakra close by and he looks up to see Izuna throwing himself across the river at them, a scowl painted across his face.

“What the hell, Aniki?” he yells, coming to land close by. “You’ve been disappearing a lot here. You swore you weren’t talking with Hashirama and now I find you here. What the hell are you doing?” he yells, eyes flashing red in his anger.

“Izuna, it’s not what-,” Madara grunts as pain radiates suddenly from his core and he gasps out a shuddering breath.

“Aniki!” Izuna cries.

“Madara,” Hashirama says lowly, concerned.

“I…I don’t…fuck,” he cries out, hunching over and Tobirama takes the air clumsily with a piercing cry, Izuna following his path before looking back at Madara.

“Aniki, what’s wrong?” he demands.

“I…,” he shakes his head and lets out a scream of pain, as his muscles tense and go ridged before the unmistakable sound of bones snapping is heard and he falls over with a yell. Tobirama lets out another piercing cry as the air around him hums and ripples with chakra before he suddenly changes back, landing heavily against the ground, skidding from his forward momentum to a stop.

“Tobi!” Hashirama cries, rushing over to his brother, Izuna’s eyes wide at the sudden appearance of Tobirama before he looks back as one last crack of bone sounds out and Madara collapses into himself. In his place, a large black wolf lies, panting heavily and letting out a pitiful whine as pain radiates through its body.

“Ma-Mads…Aniki,” Izuna whispers, crouching next to the wolf and one dark eye opens to look up at him. “What the hell is going on?” he yells, frantic.

“Something attacked us,” Tobirama whispers, forcing himself up onto shaking arms looking paler than ever, and swaying with pain and exhaustion.

“If it attacked you, why isn’t Hashirama changing too?” Izuna demands.

“Us as in Madara and I,” Tobirama says with his voice sounding rough, leaning against Hashirama as his brother helps support him. “Madara wasn’t meeting Hashirama, he was meeting with me,” he says, eyes closing with a grimace.

“You?” Izuna asks incredulously. “Why the hell would he meet up with you?” he snarls.

“You’ll have to ask him, he was the one to save me the first time we met here,” Tobirama admits wryly before his face creases with pain. “The thing, it said…it said we were in the way,” he huffs out. “We were going to ruin its plans. It’s the reason our clans have been at war all this time. Why every time things started to deescalate, it suddenly took a turn for the worse,” he gasps out.

Hashirama frowns, hands glowing green and he runs them over’s Tobirama’s body, the pained expression fading some as he smiles gratefully at Hashirama. “What the hell are you talking about?” Izuna asks, his hands shaking as he runs them over Madara’s fur.

With a groan, Madara stands on shaky legs and stumbles over to Tobirama, nudging his hand until he lifts it and Madara collapses once more, head pillowed on Tobirama’s lap as Tobirama’s hand rested on his head. “What?” Izuna whispers, gaze flicking between Tobirama and the wolf cuddled up to him. “How…how long has this been going on?” he asks in shock.

“A few months now,” Tobirama admits. “We…we kept it secret because it would cause a lot of ruckus in both clans. We wanted to spend time together before it became…,” he pauses, searching for a word.

“A symbol,” Izuna mutters and he nods.

“That,” he agrees. “Only Anija knew because he followed me the night before my birthday. I don’t know how this thing knew. Maybe it followed one of us. I couldn’t even sense it and it was right next to us,” he huffs out.

Hashirama pauses in his healing having moved onto Madara, Tobirama’s words sparking something and then he pales, making a soft wounded sound. “I told it,” he whispers.

“Anija?” Tobirama asks.

“I…I told it,” he repeats, eyes wide as the memories finally surface. “I…I was drunk at your birthday celebration. Elder Shigeru, I talked with him. He was one of the few that actually wanted peace. I wanted to give him a little bit of hope that we would have peace soon. He…he was dead the next morning and something about it didn’t sit right with me but I couldn’t figure out what. I…if that thing took control of him or used him somehow…,” he can’t seem to figure out how to finish his train of thought.

“You promised,” Tobirama whispers, eyes wide with hurt.

“Tobi, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, hands trembling.  “I never meant for something like this to happen. I was just so happy for you,” he tries to explain. “I would never do anything to harm either of you like this.” Hashirama reaches out and Tobirama pulls away and Hashirama droops, his shoulders slumping as he lets his hand fall.

“What is its plan? Its goal?” Izuna asks.

“It needs Madara’s eyes, his Sharingan. I don’t know why but it can’t be anything good. It was using this curse to punish us and distract us from its plans. A way to stall for time,” Tobirama says with a frown.

“Then what’s your plan?” Izuna asks, not questioning what is happening, not any more.

Tobirama looks down at Madara, dark eyes staring up at him. “We hunt it down and we kill it,” he growls and Madara huffs in agreement. “But we’ll need help. Neither of us can just disappear and if this thing wants our clans to fight, then we need to stop the fighting somehow. It needs our clans to fight for some reason. Stop the fighting, stall its plans,” he says simply.

“Ask for a miracle why don’t you,” Izuna grumbles then rubs at his face. “Do we know when Madara will turn back?” he asks, thoughts spinning.

Tobirama pauses, his eyes looking around him, “What time is it?” he asks.

“Just after sunset,” Hashirama offers up, always more in tune with nature than most people.

“So long as the moon and sun rise and set in the sky,” he mutters.

“What does that mean?” Hashirama asks.

“It’s what it said. So long as the moon and sun rise and set in the sky, we could never be together. I think it tied this…curse to the sun and moon cycle,” he says. “The sun set and we changed, but before that, I was the only one to change into the hawk form. It must be that I turn during the day and he turns at night,” he theorizes, motioning down to Madara’s new form.

“So, he should be back to normal come morning?” Izuna asks.

“In theory…we won’t know for sure until then,” Tobirama shrugs.

“Alright, father won’t miss him until morning and Madara can arrange to take a long term mission. Father has been considering sending one of us on one to get some new information from around the country. As for the fighting, I don’t know how well that will go about. I’m open to ideas,” he says.

“We can do the same for Tobi,” Hashirama says and then he pauses. “Why not tell him the truth…or part of it. Something…someone attacked Madara and he wants to hunt them down and is using the mission as an excuse to hunt for them but that they claimed to be manipulating the clan into fighting the Senju to weaken the Uchiha to make them weak enough to take out,” Hashirama says and they all stare at him in surprise. “What?” he says.

“I…that might actually work,” Izuna says. “Maybe not forever if there’s no evidence to support it, but it might buy us a few months. If Madara sends reports periodically, it will make things easier to keep the story straight,” he says. “What about the Senju?” he asks.

“I am clan head now. I can say no fighting and they’ll listen for a while. I’ll make some excuse about giving us time to recover some of our strength over the winter. Thankfully the cold weather will make them more agreeable to backing off,” Hashirama says.

“Keep the patrols closer to home so they won’t cross paths which will limit the chance of a border skirmish,” Tobirama offers up, sounding tired. “Less chances to cross paths means less chances of a full battle or a skirmish,” he adds.

“Alright, this might work for now,” Izuna says with a sigh and then reaches over to run gentle fingers over Madara’s ruff. “Head for the compound as soon as you’re able, Aniki. I’ll distract father as much as I can so he doesn’t notice you’ve been missing all night. I’ll keep that thing from manipulating us any further,” he vows.

Madara huffs while leaning up to lick at his hand in thanks before settling back down. “I take it you’re staying out here Tobi?” Hashirama asks softly.

“It wouldn’t be wise for either of us to be seen changing by either clan. This is a weakness and I wouldn’t put it past someone to try and exploit it, on either side,” he says tiredly.

“Okay, I’ll get your gear and mission supplies sealed up and bring them to you,” he offers and Tobirama smiles gratefully. “What should I tell Touka?” he asks. “She’s going to question this.”

“That I’m hunting down a threat to the clan,” he says.

“Okay,” Hashirama says softly. He leans forward, putting a hand to Tobirama’s head, “I’m so sorry for my mistake, otouto, but I will do everything in my power to fix this. I swear,” he breathes out.

“I know, Anija,” he whispers and smiles faintly but it’s strained. Sighing, Hashirama stands and steps away. “I’ll be back soon,” he says simply before he turns and rushes back the way he came.

Izuna stands up as well but he simply starts to gather some fire wood and builds a fire for them. “It’s going to get colder as the night goes on. Don’t you fucking die of cold before you kill that thing,” he says simply with a glare at Tobirama and he nods in thanks.

Finished, he eventually leaves with one last warning to not die and then he heads back too. Hashirama arrives with his things and then he disappears back to the compound too. Sighing, Tobirama gets a heavy blanket out and wraps it around himself, spending the night staring at the flames as he waits for dawn to come.

~*~

Madara lets the genjutsu go as the memory finishes playing out and Mito blinks back into wakefulness, dark eyes thoughtful as she silently assimilates all the information. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she finally speaks up.

“Neither have we. We travelled far searching for it and researching it but no one we spoke to had seen or even heard of a creature like it,” Madara says with a frown, running an absent finger over white feathers. Tobirama has gone back to sleep, head tucked under his wing as he finishes healing. “Neither of us could sense it either.”

“Well, that’s because sensing focuses on a person’s chakra and all living things have some. Even plants have chakra. If you couldn’t sense it, then it means it had none of its own. It…it absorbed your attacks and somehow used it as a means to siphon off the rest of your chakra,” she mutters.

“It felt like I had been fighting for hours in an instant,” Madara supplies with a frown. “Have you heard of anything that can make a person…change as we do?” he asks.

Mito nods absently, mind churning over the riddle in front of her. “There are ways to temporarily alter ones form. They take a lot of chakra and it usually only last for a short while because of the demands it places on your body and the amount of chakra it takes to keep it up. Bodies aren’t meant to be altered so fundamentally,” she says. “But this…he’s tied it into something or altered it so it can be held for longer. Twelve hours is a long time to hold such shape,” Mito explains.

“We’re always exhausted after the change,” Madara says.

“Oh, yes…wait, of course. That is why he needed your chakra. He tied it into your chakra and to each other. It consumes up almost all your chakra to change and then the other becomes the power source. Have you noticed your chakra depleting over the day, even if you never use it?” she asks quickly.

“I…yes, now that you mention it. Even before the change I’m usually tired but I just assumed it was from traveling,” he says slowly.

Mito nods, “It’s a complicated ritual to set up but once in place, you two would sustain it. You’re both lucky you have such large chakra reserves. Anyone else would have burned out by the end of the week by the repeated chakra exhaustion,” she says flippantly.

“So how do we break this loop?” Madara asks, hope clear in his face.

“That’s just it, it should have broken by now,” she says with a frown. “The loop is unsustainable across distances. You would need to remain in physical contact or stay within close range for the chakra to be syphoned from you to maintain the loop. But you just spent hours away from each other and nothing has changed. Somehow it has created a way to completely ignore the distance factor in this,” Mito grumbles, brow scrunched up in frustration.

“Then how do we break this?” he asks again.

“That’s…that’s a little more difficult,” she admits. She lets the memories play over in her mind, listening to the creature’s words carefully. “Somehow he tied this into the sun and moon cycle. That’s fairly common in these kinds of ritual when you need extra power. Perhaps that’s how he was able to bypass the distance limitation. Go too far away to syphon off each other and instead you syphon off the natural chakra around you. But using natural chakra is risky, especially if neither of you know how to use it. Do you?” she asks curiously.

“I don’t. Not sure about Tobirama. I think Hashirama does,” he adds.

“He’s very in tune with the natural world. I’m not surprised by that,” she says distractedly. “Too much natural chakra would be harmful, maybe enough to break the loop. He would have needed a way…,” she frowns. “It touched you both,” she murmurs.

“Yeah, so?” he asks.

“Neither of you could sense it and it needed your chakra to even do the ritual which means it has none itself. Natural chakra probably would have no effect on it when absorbed. By placing a part of it within each of you, it created a link to syphon off any excess natural chakra should it grow to dangerous levels,” she explains, thoughts tumbling over themselves in their haste to be seen.

“You’re saying a piece of that thing is in us?” he growls.

“Yes,” she says excitedly, heart hammering. “Do you understand what that means?”

“That I want to rip my skin off,” Madara grumbles.

“No,” she snaps, “It means we have a piece of it. You want to kill it. With the bit that resides in the two of you, we can perform a reverse summoning and bring it to us. Why fight it in its territory when you can bring it to yours,” she explains, hands gesturing in emphasis.

“You can do that?” he asks, eyes wide.

“Not yet, but the principle is the same as what is done to summon a contract bound creature,” she waves off. “I’ll need Tobirama’s help to figure out all the details…no offence.”

“No, I’m well aware of the scary mind he possesses,” Madara says with a shrug.

“The only question is when,” she says with a frown. “In order to break this…you both need to be present, which is impossible since you change nearly instantly once dawn and dusk hit.”

“We would need the sun and the moon to both be out for that to happen,” Madara mutters, scrubbing a hand through his hair in frustration as he stares down at Tobirama.

Mito pauses mid thought at his words, something striking true at them. “That’s…that’s it,” she yelps, rushing up to go to her pack to pull some things out.

“That’s what?” Madara asks, following her frantic movements as she pulls out a small scroll and her ink and brush.

“A day when the sun and moon will both be in the sky: a solar eclipse,” she explains with a wave of her brush towards the roof of the cave and the sky. “I don’t know when the next one will be but I know someone who can find out,” she explains, quickly writing out a rapid fire message onto the scroll. Finished, she lets it dry as she pulls a sheet of seal paper close and draws out the storage seal in quick nearly frantic strokes.

She rolls the scroll up and seals it away, fingers trembling as she folds the seal paper into a familiar shape. Pressing her finger to the paper bird, the seal blooms across it and it shifts, fluttering wings. “To Uzumaki Pashu,” she orders and the bird flutters its wings before taking to the air to streak out of the cave.

“You…use a lot of seals,” Madara comments at her casual display.

“Uchiha are well versed in all manners of fire and heat based arts. In Uzushio, we focus on seals,” she says with a shrug. “Now, we need to plan,” she says, relaxing now that the frantic energy is expended and her message on its way. “It’ll be a day or two before I get a return reply,” she adds.

“What’s to plan? We summon it and kill it,” he growls, eyes flicking to red in his anger.

“That’s stupid and I’m sure Tobirama would say the same,” she snaps harshly and he looks at her, eyes still red but she doesn’t look away, despite what those eyes could do to her. “Can it even be killed?” she asks.

“Of course it can,” he growls.

“Are you sure?” she asks with a pointed look and he hesitates. “Exactly…that’s why we need a plan. We can’t just go in swinging. If this thing has lived for centuries and is able to absorb chakra like it did, it will be a difficult creature to kill if it can die. Our best bet would be to confront it, keep it from getting away and then seal it away so that it can’t harm anyone else.”

“Do you know a seal that would hold such a creature?” he asks.

Mito nods, “There are tales of the one who bestowed the art of sealing to Uzushio’s ancestors. The Sage of the Six Paths was a legendary man who strived for peace amongst all things. He left…warnings, tales of a time before, when a war far bigger than any you have ever seen raged across the world. He left a warning of something in the world that could return one day and gave us the knowledge to seal it away once more should it ever return. I believe this is what he warned us about,” she explains.

“Why does it want my Sharingan?” he demands.

“I don’t know but your clan’s doujutsu is both powerful and old, even perhaps from a time during the Sage’s own life time. That kind of power is unique and it might know things about the Sharingan that your clan doesn’t even know if it’s been around this long,” she says with a frown.

“So what is this seal and how does it work?” he asks with a frown, mulling over her words.

Mito smiles, “It is ironic that we will use it because it mirrors the sun and the moon,” she admits and he scowls. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing like what it did to you, but like I said, a lot of rituals draw from the sun and the moon. Whether it is for symbolism or power depends on what the ritual is trying to achieve. This particular seal does both.”

She pulls out a blank piece of paper and with her brush draws a simple sun and a crescent moon. “The sun represents light, life, growth, fire…it has many meanings. It also represents yang chakra, or physical energy. The moon represents dreams, deep thoughts, creation and creativity. It symbolizes yin chakra. Your two clans heavily represent these two aspects: the Uchiha with your Sharingan and the genjutsus you weave so effortlessly and the Senju, whose very blood carries with it the ability of life itself, in the form of Mokuton,” she explains and Madara nods.

“You are the moon in this case, Tobirama is the sun. It chose your transformations times for a reason,” she says with a pointed look. “You will each need to summon up a great amount of Yin and Yang chakra respectively into the seal when it is painted onto your hands. When we summon it, we will need to contain it long enough for you both to touch your respective seals to it. It will then be sealed into a special urn I will have to make and seal it away permanently. Nothing short of the Sage himself could possibly break the vessel we will seal it into,” she explains.

“That sounds complicated,” he mutters.

“Oh, it is and it will require quite a bit of preparation. The two of you will need to practice drawing up your Yin and Yang chakra while we prepare. We will only have one shot at this,” she says softly.

Madara nods, “I’ve not had to draw exclusively on Yin chakra before,” he admits. “Will you show me?” he asks and she nods with a faint smile and sets about the rest of the morning and into the afternoon helping him get the hang of drawing up his Yin chakra while they wait for Hashirama to arrive so they can inform him of the plan.

~*~

Her answer comes three days later in a small origami bird. Mito thanks it and breaks the seal animating it, opening the storage seal inked into it. When two scrolls come out, she frowns. The first is from Pashu informing her that the next solar eclipse, though not a true solar eclipse, would be in a month, or twenty eight days to be exact at the height of noon.

The second is from her father to her message she had sent before she met Madara, inquiring why exactly she needed such information. Sighing, she sends back an abbreviated version of what she had stumbled on and their plans to seal this evil creature away. She asked if he could send the scroll pertaining to the seal she intended to use and any insight on reverse summoning, laying out her thought process and what she was attempting by summoning it to them.

She sends it off and informs all of them they have less than a full month before the solar eclipse to prepare. Hopefully it will be enough time to get everything ready or they might have to wait anywhere from a few months to even a year before the next solar eclipse occurred.

His return takes two days this time and comes with an assurance that they will offer any help they can. The scroll in question is also included, aged after all these centuries but lovingly preserved. There is also a smaller scroll with notes from Uzumaki Hamon, one of the few in Uzushio who has studied summoning techniques extensively. He leaves detailed instructions on how such a summoning could work but that it requires a lot of chakra, depending on how far the creature will be from them and how strong it resists the summoning.

She shows it to Tobirama and Hashirama that night. “I could supply the chakra,” Hashirama says. “Otouto is always complaining I have too much of it and it makes sensing hard when I’m around,” he murmurs with a grin.

“It’s like a sun in my senses,” Tobirama grumbles but smiles back and Mito can agree wholeheartedly that Hashirama glows with power in her mind.

Pulling the ancient scroll closer, she unrolls it carefully, Tobirama looking over her shoulder before she finds what she’s looking for. “Could you make something like this with your mokuton?” she asks, tilting the scroll to show the holy vessel depicted on the yellowed paper: a spherical body with a small base and wide but short mouth.

Hashirama stares at it contemplatively and shifts back as a thick root grows through a crack in the flor beside him and he shapes it, the wood merging with each pass until the vessel stands before them. “That shouldn’t be too hard. The details will be harder,” he admits, looking at the lines of seals drawn on the image.

Mito waves it off. “I can help with that,” she assures. “It needs to be made out of iron wood. Can you grow that?” she asks.

“Iron wood?” he asks curiously.

She nods, “In Lightning, they have a lot of iron deposits in their mountains. The trees there absorb it as they grow, becoming as hard as iron. The wood is incredibly hard to work with, only a few masters in Lightning having found ways to shape it. They use it for armor, since it’s much lighter than actual metal armor but just as hard.”

“I’ve never even heard of them, let alone tried such an experiment,” he admits with excitement at the prospect of something new nature wise, “but if it happens naturally, there’s no saying I can’t force it to occur on a faster timeframe. It might take some practice though.”

“Okay, start practicing, though I recommend you use iron shavings or powder rather than trying to draw from something already forged,” she adds and he nods sheepishly obviously thinking of doing just that. “Once you have an iron wood tree, we can create the vessel and add the seals on the outside.”

“Okay,” he agrees, already getting up to go do that and she turns back to Tobirama as she explains how the sealing ritual will work and what he and Madara will need to do to prepare for it. When he easily pulls up both Yin and Yang chakra respectively, she arches a brow.

“I like to experiment,” he mutters and she nods with a smile.

~*~

“Yes, this is perfect,” Mito says excitedly a week later when Hashirama arrives with the iron wood vessel he managed to create.

“It was a lot harder than I expected to work with iron wood. The wood wanted to do as I bid but the iron in it fought me. It’s a good thing I’m patient,” he says with a boyish grin and Mito smiles back.

“When the seal completes you will need to close the top and fuse it. Will that be a problem?” she asks with a frown.

“Hmm, oh, no, that much I can do after all the practice I got. So, how will you put the seals onto it?” he asks, seeming to be interested in her work. Madara huffs from the other side of the cave where he’s busy practicing his Yin release.

“I will draw them on with ink and you will carve them into the iron wood,” she explains and he nods eagerly. As she steps away, she can’t help but glance from under her lashes at him as he goes to chat with Madara. She’s been exposed to many facets of Hashirama over the last few weeks. He is not what she expected for being the son of Senju Butsuma.

Turning her thoughts back to the vessel, she sets about making enough ink to work with and pulling out her brush, begins the slow and tedious task of drawing the intricate seal onto the iron wood vessel’s surface.

Her back is stiff and tight from such an extended time hunched over the vessel in her lap when she finally surfaces from her work. She blinks when she notices Hashirama sitting across from her, watching her work. “You are very skilled with a brush,” he murmurs into the quiet. “Though quite intimidating when you focus. I was afraid to disturb you,” he admits and she flushes faintly.

“It’s done,” she says, holding it out to him.

He takes it and sets it aside, taking her hands into his own larger hands as they glow, warm chakra flowing down her arms and easing the pain in her back. “Better?” he asks with a gentle smile and she nods mutely, feeling flushed.

“Tobi gets like this sometimes too,” he admits, the glow fading though he doesn’t let her hands go. “All twisted into knots from sitting weird. I used to joke he looked like an old man with how he hunched when it got really bad. I always helped him unknot himself,” he jokes with a small laugh.

“He had a wonderful brother looking out for him,” she murmurs quietly, afraid to break the mood.

Hashirama shakes his head sadly, “But I’m not,” he admits. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t told it, they would have never been like this.”

Mito stares at his grief stricken face. “You’re right, it is your fault,” she says simply and he jerks back as if slapped, staring at her with wide eyes. “To say otherwise would be to ignore the truth. But…,” she pauses, squeezing his hands to make sure she has his attention before continuing, “If this hadn’t happened, you would have never known about this creature. It would have still worked against both your clans, keeping you constantly at war for whatever it plans. Madara told me about your dream of a village for both clans. Would you want to build it knowing that that thing is out there trying to tear it down?” she asks seriously.

“No,” he breathes out hotly, eyes flashing dangerously at the thought of the creature corrupting his dream.

“Yes you made a mistake, but now we fix it by ensuring it will never do this to anyone else ever again,” she breaths out fiercely.

A slow smile blooms across his face at her words and she feels her heart skip at the sight. “Thank you, Mito. I needed those words more than I knew,” he says softly, squeezing her hands in his.

“You’re welcome,” she says back. Letting her hands go, he picks up the iron wood vessel and stands. Mito curls her hands against her thighs and pretends she doesn’t miss the warmth of his hands.

“I should be able to get this done in a day or two between my duties,” he says with a nod.

“Of course,” she says. “Good evening,” she adds, seeing that night has fallen while she worked by fire light.

“Good night…Mito,” Hashirama says softly, dark eyes shadowed and then he turns and walks out of the cave. Mito watches him leave, Tobirama passing his brother on his way out, bidding him good night. Madara paces besides the paler Senju and looks her way with curiosity.

Scrubbing a hand over her face briskly, she stands to start getting food out so she and Tobirama can make a meal. She shoves the strange moment out of her mind for later thought. Right now, she has more important things to focus on.

~*~

The week before the solar eclipse is to happen, Mito and Tobirama are sitting around the fire going over the finer details of the plan. Tobirama shakes his head, “No, this won’t work,” he mutters with a frown.

“How so?” she asks instead of arguing her point further.

“Madara and I will be channeling our chakra to the seals on our palms. Anija will be using his chakra to summon the creature and as a whole, he relies mostly on his mokuton in battle and we can’t use ninjutsu or genjutsu against it. And you will be protecting and powering the seal on the vessel to prepare it to be sealed away. That doesn’t leave anyone to actually fight it beside Madara and I and we’ll be distracted,” he explains. “We need to bring in others.”

“Who would you suggest we bring in then? You’ve kept this hidden from your clans for fear of them using each other as a weakness. Who would you trust with this knowledge?” she asks.

“Izuna knows already and he is my match with a blade,” he says. “And Touka is very skilled with her naginata. If we bring them in to help us keep it from getting away I think we’ll stand a much better chance,” he says, red eyes serious.

“You trust them with this?” she asks.

“I would trust Touka with my life and I know Izuna will do anything to protect Madara. Neither would try to take advantage of this,” he assures.

“Then we need to get them to meet us where the summoning and sealing will take place and explain what is going on. They’ll need to meet up the day before the eclipse so we can be ready once the eclipse happens. We’ll only have eight minutes to seal it away before the eclipse ends,” she adds.

“I’m aware of how long we will have,” he sighs. “Hashirama can talk with Touka and bring her. As for Izuna, Madara can send him a message to meet us there.”

“Well then, there’s really not much we can do until then,” she says, glancing over to the iron wood vessel that shines faintly in the fire light. Madara huffs beside Tobirama in agreement and Tobirama scratches lightly behind his ear.

~*~

It’s a few hours before dawn when they reach the location for the summoning on a flat stretch of stone next to the river in the no-man’s land between their clan lands. They’ve been working all week gathering the necessary materials for the reverse summoning, as well as setting up a perimeter barrier hopefully strong enough to help contain the creature. It has none of their chakra, instead drawing from the natural chakra around them to ensure it can’t somehow steal their chakra through the seals.

They are without a doubt some of Mito’s finest work and she plans to send them to Uzushio so they can study them. She had spent a long time studying Hashirama as he used sage chakra to make them. A seal that won’t run out of chakra is something they’ve never attempted before. And with natural chakra being so hard to work with and few being able to actually use it, it means few can break the seals.

The summoning circle, drawn with ink mixed with Tobirama and Madara’s blood, is drawn across the stone. A section is drawn next to it where Hashirama will sit to supply the chakra necessary to bring the creature to them. The vessel sits on a curl of roots that wrap around it and keep it in place next to the summoning circle.

Drawn around the summoning circle is the sealing circle, and hadn’t that been the hardest part of integrating the summoning circle and the sealing circle without weakening both or creating an imbalance in either, carved into the rock with iron wood from the tree Hashirama grew filling in the carved lines. Even if the rock cracks and falls away, the seal will remain. Mito is taking no chances.

Now, they are simply waiting for Izuna and Touka to arrive, both delayed by duties. Hashirama had said he would come with Touka after putting his clan on alert in case things should go badly and Izuna had done the same, though that would be harder without tipping the ever suspicious Uchiha off.

Tobirama paces back and forth nearby, Madara seated and watching as they wait for the sun to rise, feeling the pull even now with only an hour left. The paler man looks up, Mito already having sensed Hashirama and Touka’s arrival.

The two step into the clearing dressed for battle and grim faced. “Tobi,” Touka breathes, rushing up to hug him awkwardly while both of them wear armor. Mito has to admit that the white and blue fit well with his coloring, his happuri shining in the torch light. “What the hell is going on? The stump won’t explain anything, only saying you needed my help.”

Tobirama huffs softly at Touka’s nickname for Hashirama as the man in question pouts. “I’m your clan head. You’re supposed to respect me,” he mutters softly.

“Yes, yes, I’m aware,” she waves off. “Well?”

“It’s…a long story and we’ll explain once everyone is here,” he says softly.

“Who else is coming?” she demands.

“Soon,” is all he says and she scowls but sighs with a nod before turning to Mito.

“Hello again,” she greets.

“Hello,” Mito says back and then both she and Tobirama tense, senses registering not one but three chakra signatures coming from the Uchiha Compound.

Mito has never felt Uchiha Izuna’s chakra signature so she can’t figure out who is who but by the way Tobirama pales, eyes staring towards the way they are coming from, it can’t be good. “Ready yourselves,” Mito says simply and Hashirama and Touka stiffen, gazes following theirs.

From the shadows, three dark haired and armor clad figures arrive, red eyes swirling as they navigate across the river to stop a distance from the summoning site. One keeps coming a little closer, despite the looks they give him.

Uchiha Izuna frowns at Tobirama poised ready to fight or flee; red eyes not meeting Izuna’s Sharingan. “They demanded to know what was going on and wouldn’t let me leave without them,” he explains hastily as the other two walk closer and into the torch light.

“Well, I demand answers,” Uchiha Tajima says evenly, glaring at the gathered shinobi.

Tobirama looks to Hashirama, “A few more minutes,” he says.

“You will have answers soon, Uchiha-sama,” Mito says, stepping into their line of sight and placing herself between Tobirama and the Uchiha. “My name is Uzumaki Mito and I have been aiding these people in capturing and sealing away something wholly evil. Something that has, by its own words, been manipulating the Senju and Uchiha into an endless cycle of war and death,” she explains.

“You think some story will persuade me to not take your head from your neck,” he threatens.

“No, but your son will be better able to give you proof, once he arrives,” Mito says calmly, not meeting his eyes but staying calm and poised.

“And where is Madara?” Tajima demands hotly and even the one next to him shifts to look around for the absent heir of the clan.

Mito sees the first glimmers of light across the sky and turns to look at Tobirama as a substantial crack resounds in the heavy silence and the paler man stumbles forward with a muted groan. Mito hears the two Uchiha startle behind her but focuses on both of them as Madara, beside Tobirama, gives a whimper of pain, the sounds of snapping bone coming from him as well.

“What the hell?” the other Uchiha exclaims as chakra shimmers around Tobirama before he collapses into himself and in his place the white hawk rests, wings spread wide and drooping in pain and exhaustion.

Beside him, Madara finishes his own transformation with one last muted yell, fingers digging furrows into the earth beneath him as he shudders and falls still before he stands with a stagger, breathing like he’s run a mile and stares straight at his father and clan’s man. “I’m here,” he grits out, voice rough before he turns away from them to bend down and pick up the drooping bird. “Easy,” he murmurs as Tobirama gives a pained noise at being moved. “It’ll pass,” he whispers.

“Madara, explain,” Tajima snaps out, storming closer despite the many Senju around Madara, the other man following his clan head.

“How much did you tell him Izuna?” Madara asks, running gently fingers over Tobirama’s feathers.

“Just what you told me to tell him. You were attacked and hunting down the one that attacked you and using the mission as a cover,” Izuna explains with a shrug.

“You…you knew…about this?” Tajima demands, red in the face as he stares at his youngest son.

“I came upon them the first time it happened,” Izuna explains with an uneasy shrug at his father’s anger.

“What is this?” the other Uchiha asks softly.

Madara stares at his father for a long drawn out minute before his eyes shift into the Mangekyō and Tajima’s eyes widen in shock. “I had been meeting up with Tobirama for a while, before this,” he says evenly, waving around him. “What started out as an accident became something…more, something unexpected but…good.”

“Hashirama accidentally found Tobirama and I last year and swore he wouldn’t tell anyone. The creature that attacked us took control of one of the Senju elders and manipulated Hashirama while he was drunk into revealing our...relationship. Its plans would be ruined should our clans stop fighting for once and actually achieved peace. So it laid a trap for the two of us,” he says, still staring straight at into his father’s eyes.

“Neither of us could sense it and it was hiding right beside us. It attacked, syphoned off our chakra without any effort and used it to bind us into these forms you have seen. During the day, he is a hawk and at night, I become a wolf. We have been hunting it ever since in the hopes of killing it and breaking this curse,” he finishes.

“Show us,” Tajima snaps out and Madara nods, eyes whirling as he shows them through genjutsu his meetings with Tobirama including the first one, the trap, the moment he gained his Mangekyō and their planning over the last month to summon the creature to them and seal it away.

As he finishes the genjutsu and releases it silence descends around them before Tajima sucks in a slow breath, the other doing so as well. “You love him,” he murmurs, eyes boring into his son’s.

“I do,” he admits readily and easily. “Will you help us?” he asks.

Tajima is silent as he mulls over everything he was shown and then he nods. “If this thing has been using our clan all these centuries, then as clan head, it is my duty to face it and ensure it will never do so again,” he growls out. The tension in the atmosphere lessens at his words. “This doesn’t mean we will make peace just yet, but I am willing to work with you Senju if it means breaking this curse on my son,” he adds.

“Fair enough,” Hashirama agrees. “I hope you will consider peace though. I for one am tired of fighting a war that wasn’t even ours to begin with,” he says simply and then steps away closer to Touka to give them room to talk with Madara.

“Thank you father, Hikaku,” Madara says softly.

“Don’t think we won’t be having a talk about your meetings with the….White Demon,” he adds with a sneer and pointed look at the hawk resting on Madara’s gloved wrist.

Tobirama peels open one red eye and lets out a screech at him before closing his eye once more and turns his head away in dismissal. “You should be aware that we understand everything in these forms,” Madara informs him with a huff, running a hand down white feathers. Hikaku coughs into his fist as Tajima sends a glare at the hawk that ignores him.

“When is this happening?” Tajima demands as he turns away.

“Noon, when the solar eclipse begins,” Mito speaks up as the neutral party in this gathering. “When both the moon and sun are in the sky, they will both stand here in their true forms. I will need to draw Tobirama’s seal on before we can begin. Hashirama will channel his chakra into the summoning circle. This creature has tied itself to both of them, so by adding their blood to the ink it will follow that tie and bring it here. Once here, you will need to keep it here. Hopefully the barriers will be able to contain it,” Mito goes on.

“Under no circumstance will you use any ninjutsu or genjutsu against this creature. Even a hint of your chakra will allow it to syphon off you chakra before you can blink,” she warns. “You will use taijutsu and weapons only in this fight. Madara and Tobirama will need a few moments to pull up enough Yin and Yang chakra respectively and in equal amounts before they can activate the seals I will have placed on their palms. Once they both touch the creature, the seals drawn on the iron wood vessel will activate and suck the creature into the vessel and hold it long enough for Hashirama to seal it closed,” she finishes.

Tajima frowns but nods, glancing between Hikaku, Izuna and Madara, “I think we can handle that,” he says with a nod.

Madara nods and walks away towards a tree to settle down and wait. The others follow suit, the three Uchiha keeping to one side while Mito, Hashirama and Touka settle on the other side to wait through the passing hours.

Finally, the hour before noon arrives. “It is nearly time,” Mito says, standing from her meditative seat and walking over to Madara. “Give me your left hand,” she orders and he does so easily, pulling off his glove to hold his out palm up.

Pulling out her brush and the special ink she made just for this ritual, she draws steadily across his palm as the crescent moon takes form, the ink shimmering before it seeps into his skin and dries instantly. Madara’s brows rise in surprise. “I can feel it,” he admits.

“It’s a conductive ink, used for very special seal work,” she explains. “Right now, it is pure and neutral. Do not begin channeling any chakra into it until I have Tobirama’s seal drawn. You will only have a few minutes before the special properties fade so you must only channel your Yin chakra once you are both ready,” she instructs.

“Of course,” he agrees.

“You two will remain close, so the moment he changes into his human form, place this onto him,” she adds, pulling out a seal that nearly hums with chakra. “The transformation will exhaust his reserves. We planned for this by storing his chakra into this Byakugō seal over the last few weeks. This will restore his reserves to allow him to seal it away with you.”

“Okay,” he nods, taking the seal carefully. Standing, he walks over to the two places set into the sealing circle specifically for them as Hashirama takes position in his spot by the summoning circle.

“The barrier seals are functioning and holding,” he informs her, rings around his eyes as he senses out towards the seals with his sage chakra before he lets the chakra fade for the moment.

Mito positions herself beside the vessel, tanto in hand as she prepares herself to defend the vessel and guide its seals into pulling the creature into it. Touka, Tajima, Hikaku and Izuna take equal distance positions around the summoning circle, blades drawn and expressions grim as they readied for the fight to come.

Mito watches the sky as they wait. One of the reasons they chose this spot was the open ground and sky, allowing them to watch as the moon and sun slowly climb into the sky. She can see the way Madara stiffens, muscles rippling as his body fights between the urge to change and to remain the same. Tobirama, on the ground, ruffles his feathers with a soft call.

Mito has her brush out and her ink ready as they wait. The seconds and minutes drag out, trickling by slowly. Sweat beads on her temple and slides down her check and she wipes it away absently.

They know the instant the solar eclipse begins as Tobirama lets out a shrill piercing cry and chakra begins to envelope him. Madara twitches, holding the seal containing Tobirama’s chakra at the ready. Bones snap faintly, chakra blooms and then Tobirama is left panting on the ground in his armor.

Madara steps closer and presses the seal to the back of his neck and as it contacts, it flashes as lines appeared across his face, the same red as the tattoos on his face and he sucks in a sharp breath as chakra flows through him suddenly.

“Now Hashirama,” Mito orders as she rushes forward to draw the sun seal onto Tobirama’s right palm. “Don’t begin drawing your Yang chakra into the seal until it is here,” she orders and he nods as he stands next to Madara.

Hashirama, sage marks appearing on his face once more, presses his palms into the seal relays before him and pours his chakra into it. Like a sun brought to earth in her senses, Mito stares in awe at the sheer amount of chakra this man is able to summon, a near endless tide as the seal soaks it up like sun baked earth before the rains.

As they watch the seal glows, the air above it shimmering with some unfelt heat. Hashirama’s teeth are gritted, his jaw tight as he fights the creature as he attempts to pull it here. For a moment, Mito fears the summoning will fail, the creature too strong to bring here. Then, with one final growl, Hashirama pushes a finally large pulse of chakra into the seal and with a tearing sound, the air over the seal tears open and the creature falls out of it and onto the stone, its form amorphous and thrashing, tendrils lashing out as yellow eyes glow with hatred at them.

The tear seals and Hashirama cuts off feeding chakra into the seal, pulling what is still in it out before the creature can latch onto it. He’s pale but still steady as he pulls out a blade and stands to face the creature with the others.

“Now,” Mito orders and Madara and Tobirama nod, drawing up their chakra.

“Uzumaki,” the creature hisses, looking around at the large seal around them. “You people always were such meddlers. I should have had your island destroyed centuries ago,” it hisses, tendrils lashing out and Mito ducks away as Hashirama steps between it and her, blade slicing through the tendrils.

The others don’t need an order, lunging out, keeping it from slipping around them in an attempt to escape the seal. One tendril lashes out and strikes the barrier and it recoils as if burned. “I will kill you all and raze you clans to nothing but ash,” it hisses, lashing at the shinobi.

Tajima grunts as a tendril manages to catch him in the shoulder, piercing through his armor but he ignores the pain as he slices at the black tendril with his blade. “You will die by our hands,” he growls out, Sharingan whirling as he lunges to force it back towards the center of the seal where Tobirama and Madara are nearly ready.

Overhead the solar eclipse colors the sky a bloody red. It lashes out desperately, growing panicked as they evade its attacks and keep it from escaping. With a growl, Izuna slashes at it with his katana and it jumps back, right into the center of the seal and with all the speed they have honed over their years as shinobi, Madara and Tobirama lash out, hands connecting from two sides and it shrieks in rage and fear, yellow eyes going wide.

The iron wood vessel hums as it vibrates with chakra, Mito pressing her hands against it to help guide the chakra. “Brace yourselves,” Mito cries out as a great wind begins to emerge from nowhere, pulling at the creature to drag it into its prison.

“No, this is not how this is supposed to go,” it wails, tendrils lashing out to cling to anything that will stop it from being pulled in. “No! Mother…help me,” it howls frantically up at the sky, edging closer and closer, parts of it already disappearing into the vessel.

It’s halfway in and it lashes out one last time, latching onto Tobirama’s wrist and pulling at the paler man. “If I’m going in, so are you,” it growls out.

With a yell of rage, Madara grabs at Tobirama’s blade still belted at his waist and unsheathes it in one clean stroke, the blade slicing through the tendril and it screams in pain as it lets go and the piece Madara sliced off flows into the vessel.

“Cut your palms without the seal and hold them towards the vessel,” Mito cries out as the suction comes to its peak. With quick nods, Madara holds out the blade and they cut their palms on it, holding them out. Blood flows, following the suction and in it, a single bead of black is sucked in as well, the parts of itself it placed into them.

With one last scream, it is sucked in completely, its howl echoing out of the vessel. “Hashirama,” Mito yells, feeling the vessel heat up but unable to remove her hands until vessel is sealed. With a grinding screech, the top snaps closed and seals seamless and Mito pulls her hands away quickly, falling back against Hashirama’s shins as he steadies her.

The vessel shakes and vibrates with the lines of the seals still glowing and then slowly it stills as the light dims until it goes out, though the seals are still carved into it. The sudden silence hangs for a long drawn out moment only for it to be shattered as Madara drops the blade in his hand, reaching out to pull Tobirama into his arms.

Mito looks up tiredly, eyes squinting and sees that the eclipse is over, the two celestial bodies continuing their journey through the sky.  “You’re hurt,” Hashirama murmurs next to her. Mito blinks up at him as he motions towards her hands.

Looking back down at her palms, she sees the lines of the seals burned into her palms. “A little,” she admits tiredly. She feels wholly rung out by this experience.

He reaches down and takes her palms into his, hands glowing green and she blinks, “Aren’t you tired?” she asks.

“Some,” he admits ruefully. “I recover fast,” he admits and she nods, getting what he means after studying his mokuton and sage chakra over the last few weeks and seeing his abilities up close.

She sighs softly as the searing pain dulls and then begins to fade as the reddened skin begins to turn pink and then return to her pale complexion, the seal lines disappearing. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

“Of course,” he says with a smile and helps her stand on knees that still feel a little weak.

“Is everyone alive?” she asks, looking around and counting heads just in case.

“Alive and accounted for,” Tajima says gruffly, favoring his hurt shoulder. Izuna has a nasty gash on his side; Hikaku is favoring one of his knees where he landed harshly on it and Touka is leaning against her naginata, favoring her leg where a nasty gash bleeds heavily.

Hashirama walks up to her and presses a hand to her thigh and she nods gratefully, leaning against him as he heals the gash and then helps her sit to rest off the blood loss. Hashirama turns to the three Uchiha clustered together. “I can help,” he offers, hand raised up but not glowing.

“What will you demand in return?” Izuna asks with narrowed eyes.

“No cost,” he assures. “And besides, you just helped seal that thing away and break the curse on my brother. If anything I feel I owe you right now,” he admits with some amusement.

Izuna eyes him for a moment and then nods, stepping closer and Hashirama reaches out slowly before he presses a hand to Izuna’s side and begins to heal his gash. Izuna hisses in surprise, eyes wide in shock, having never experienced this type of healing before. Hashirama offers to Hikaku next and the man nods, offering his knee and Hashirama heals the torn and bruised tendons there, the pain fading from his face.

“Uchiha-Sama,” he offers to Tajima respectively.

Tajima eyes him before huffing and offering his shoulder. Hashirama moves slowly and presses his hand to the hole in the man’s shoulder and begins to heal it. His face remains composed as he heals it and the spreading sickness in the man’s lungs without saying anything.

Tajima steps back as soon as he removes his hand, the man’s eyes wary but he takes his first clear breath in months and eyes Hashirama suspiciously but doesn’t comment, only nodding in thanks. They look to the pair sitting on the ground, Madara having pulled Tobirama into his lap as he held him.

“Madara, Tobirama,” Hashirama says softly, coming to kneel close to them.

Madara lets out a shuddering breath and then pulls back and they can see the tears streaking down his cheeks. Pale hand reach up and wipe them away, red eyes staring into his Sharingan that had flicked on unconsciously, memorizing Tobirama’s tired face. “I’m okay,” he assures with a faint smile.

“Tobirama,” Madara murmurs pressing their foreheads together. “Gods,” he groans out. “It’s finally over,” he says with relief, shoulders sagging. “It’s over.”

Hashirama smiles joyfully, Mito smiling as well at the relief in his voice and she looks over to see Tajima watching the two of them contemplatively, Sharingan recording everything. Hikaku and Izuna are talking quietly, gaze flicking towards the two and then away.

Hashirama turns to Mito with a huge grin. “Thank you Mito,” he whispers. “This wouldn’t have been possible without you,” he says and quickly pulls her into a hug and Mito laughs, hugging him back. “I have my brother back,” he whispers, throat thick with tears and she rubs his back soothingly.

“You have them both back,” she whispers for him only, “And maybe more good can come from this,” she adds.

“I hope so,” he says, pulling back with a watery grin.

“Don’t give up hope just yet,” Mito says with a smile.

~*~

It takes three weeks for an official ceasefire to be declared between the Senju and Uchiha. What Tajima, Madara, Izuna and Hikaku tell their clan about what happened, they don’t know, but the messenger bird comes days later with the first tentative offering of peace between them.

Now, nearly six months later, the two clans are finally sitting down to begin peace talks between them with the hopeful goal of a shared village in the following year being built. Mito wasn’t surprised when a month into the ceasefire, Tajima stepped down as clan head and allowed his son to step up to lead the clan to peace.

Now, they are gathered with Madara and Hashirama as the clan heads, Izuna and Tobirama as their seconds and heirs and a few select elders, one of which is Tajima. Mito is there as a representative of Uzushio and her father to oversee the peace talks and to represent their interest in an alliance with the village if these two formidable clans can finally find peace together.

It takes a week of intense and frustrating negotiations before both sides are satisfied with the compromises asked of them. The peace talks will be sealed with a marriage between Madara and Tobirama, the two nearly unable to look away from each other after nearly a month apart and Mito smiles at the obvious love between them, even if Tobirama tries to hide it.

Mito steps forward once the peace accord is signed and hands are shaken between Hashirama and Madara. “As my father’s representative, may I be the first to congratulate you on finally achieving peace between your clans,” she says with a serene smile. “This has been long in coming.”

“It is good,” Madara agrees, Hashirama grinning boyishly and laughing. With a jerk, he grabs Madara’s arm and pulls him into a bone crushing hug, lifting the man off his feet as he squawks in indignation.

“We’re finally going to get our village!” he crows. “Our dream is becoming reality!”

“Anija, put him down,” Tobirama snaps, coming up to help pull Madara from Hashirama’s strangling grasp.

Madara gasps for breath and glares at Hashirama before hiding behind Tobirama. “You damn tree,” he growls. “Watch your strength.” Laughter rushes over the crowd, relief high as the war finally comes to an end. It won’t be easy and the road to peace will be filled with misunderstandings and grief on both sides but for once, neither side seems to care.

Mito laughs as Tobirama sends a glare at his brother and then tugs Madara away towards a more secluded area to talk privately. “You’re pleased,” Mito says softly as Hashirama watches them go with a gentle expression on his face. “Pleased looks good on you,” she says.

“They deserve happiness,” he says back with a melancholic smile.

“And do you deserve happiness?” she asks softly, reaching out to slip her hand into his and he blinks between it and her, eyes going wide as a blush burns across his cheeks.

“I…I would like that,” he stammers out and Mito laughs at his awkward agreement.

“That’s good,” she says with a smile, turning to looks across the gathered shinobi while pressing a little closer to him. “I already told my father I intended to court you,” she adds mischievously and Hashirama sputters, his entire face going red as he finally registers her words. “Is there a problem with that Lord Hashirama?” she asks with a wicked grin.

“No…nope, that’s perfectly fine, Lady Mito,” he gets out in a rush, hand gripping hers tight to keep her from pulling away.

“Good. We should probably go keep the peace,” she says with a sigh, seeing the celebrations starting to unfold as alcohol and food is brought out to feast their new peace. Grinning madly, he allows her to pull him along while still gripping her hand and she basks in his chakra as she pulls Tobirama and Madara from their hiding spot to come socialize, the two eyeing their clasped hands but not commenting.

As night begins to fall, she feels the breeze flow through the gathering and hope blooms in her chest. If this ancient and drawn out clan war can be brought to an end, maybe there’s hope for others to finally find peace. Gripping Hashirama’s hand tight, Mito lets herself be drawn into the conversation around them and smiles.

End.

Notes:

I had fun with this. I played a bit with the timeline, having Madara gain his Mangekyou because of Tobirama's near death by Kakuzu. The seal used to seal Zetsu away was a smaller version of what was used in canon to seal Kaguya away. I figured, the Sage would have made sure the seal was out there, just in case he wasn't around to help out.

Madara and Tobirama get married spend the rest of their lives bitching about stupid people while Madara worships Tobi's amazing mind and adopting all the children they want.

Mito court Hashirama hard with lots of flower arrangements that are usually suggestive as fuck or just down right lewd making him blush and giggle so happily and there are rare and unique teas included because they both love their tea and then they have the biggest fucking wedding in Konoha's history (ever) because Hashirama wants all the flowers and people and just wants everyone to have a good time. He does get drunk again but Mito is there to make sure he doesn't do anything too bad.

Kudos and Comments welcome. :)