Chapter Text
Everything had begun with a slight.
A single sarcastic, underhanded comment as Tobirama made them so often. Delivered with the nonchalance of the man who did not care about whose feelings he might step on. It was one’s duty to not have their focus impaired by feelings. Emotions. Harsh language was customary in his life - in their time.
Except it would seem such courtesy was extended more to others than some - and for Tobirama’s inconsiderate remark about the Uchiha’s resolute drive for, ah, compensation in any way, form, or blood - Izuna Uchiha had sprung to life and all hell had erupted on the grassy field the two clans had met, not to slaughter one another in the name of feudal lords but rather to achieve peace.
A chance to stop fighting, ruined, then.
The meeting had been a hard bargain fought for by Hashirama and Tobirama chiefly - finally each clan brought a smaller delegation to a destined location so they might talk rather than fight, as they usually would. Tobirama, while firmly believing foregoing revenge and sitting down to achieve peace was the only way, did doubt this meeting might be the best way to do so. The framework seemed, to put it lightly, shaky. Still, it was a step into a different, a better direction.
On behalf of the Uchiha, it had mainly been Akiko Uchiha’s endeavour to get her clan to agree - perhaps the tugging at the emotional strings of whatever remained of Madara’s friendship with Hashirama had helped. Since it was supposed to be only a talk, nothing to be set in stone it could not hurt.
Right.
Words, as it were, doomed the whole occasion.
Naturally both clans had come fully armed and ready to strike should either side dare to exploit the opportunity, and frankly Tobirama wouldn’t blame anyone. Of course, it was painfully hypocritical of them all - brokering peace but only with a brandished kunai - yet who would take the first step? Who would dare such a dangerous, maybe even stupid feat and bare their throat to someone who was more than willing to slice it open?
Turns out no weapons were needed to ignite the fuse, but simply a remark Tobirama hadn’t even made to particularly sting.
In hindsight, he cynically figured Izuna Uchiha may or may not have been waiting for it.
The battle that ensued followed much the same old pattern: life or death. Hashirama and Madara were locking proverbial antlers after his brother had pointlessly tried to salvage the situation by reprimanding Tobirama; however Izuna’s own fiery temper set off a couple of Senju and the big, bad landslide had caught them all.
Izuna had singled in on Tobirama - a worthy foe, of course.
Fortune was not on his side today. For all his wit, his proficiency with both speed, his jutsu - specifically his hiraishin - today - today the Uchiha had the upper hand. Maybe Tobirama’s thoughts briefly had been occupied with a distant, frustrated longing for peace. Or the absurdity of this fight - this whole meeting.
“This is your end, Senju,” the dark haired, lean man spat before he raised his katana to strike down.
Tobirama was on his back. Frankly the situation was ironic - laughable, really. He’d die for this dream, his brother’s idealism, his brother’s idiocy-
A resounding, clear and utterly stern voice called out.
“Stop, Izuna!”
His eyes opened again. In front of him was a woman, black hair flowing in the wind, the Uchiha crest adorning the back of her clothing just over the back piece of her chest armor. Her arms were spread out protectively, the flare of her chakra signature a beacon to behold for Tobirama’s fine sensor skills he had kept activated ever since the meeting had begun.
Instinctively, he made good use of the break of the battle’s rhythm to twist and grab his odachi - he would get another chance to live. An enemy bared their unprotected back to him like this, what was she? Insane? Too bad for this woman - another fool it seems, just like his -
Brother?
As though on cue her head whipped around and her obsidian eyes bored into his scarlet gaze. That face - this was Akiko Uchiha, the orchestrator of his delightful occasion on the Uchiha’s side. Her expression was emotionless. A single eyebrow quirked up and the unspoken question hung in the air.
Will you kill me now, Tobirama Senju?
His grip on his weapon grew tighter.
He should. The enemy had proven themselves to be untrustworthy once more, unable to overcome their hatred and forego revenge to seek peace. She had served herself on a silver platter by standing with her back to him, a now again armed enemy. Down on the ground maybe, but with enough time to get up. Or even begin to sign for a jutsu, anything.
The moment passed.
Izuna bellowed. “Are you insane, Akiko?! This was my chance!”
For the fraction of a second her gaze held Tobirama’s still. The next moment the steely mask fell and her eyebrow lowered, then both turned up. She looked regretful now. The aches of many, many years bearing down on her in a single moment as sadness encompassed the woman that was the reason he got to see another day. Tobirama clenched his jaw so tight the muscles hurt and he began to scramble to his feet, weapon in hand. The woman took a deep breath, her head whipped around to face the man who nearly had been Tobirama’s demise.
“This is undeserving of you, Izuna! We were supposed to negotiate, and you attacked a man who came in peace!”
Her voice - he wouldn’t forget the sound of her voice. Such a firm, undaunted sound, bereft of any sorrow he had just seen. And yet there was the slight tinge of a shake in there. A tremble of fury? Or doubt? It felt as though she was well aware right now, she was treading on thin ice.
Ground that might break away under her at any minute.
He didn’t stick around to listen to the rest of their argument.
Tobirama Senju’s odachi ran through Izuna’s chest plate as though it was paper.
She did not breathe. Her blood froze in her veins and her heart desperately hammered in her ears. Distantly, a part of her screamed in mortified despair.
This can’t be true. This isn’t happening.
But it was.
Horrified, Akiko watched her older brother’s face pale - his mien, a moment ago so confident in victory, a second later, frozen in shock as the Senju appeared in front of him out of thin air and sliced through the left side of his chest. Through her sharingan, every single millisecond unfolded before her agonizingly slow, and even though the clash of Izuna’s grand fireball jutsu and Tobirama’s water dragon had created dense steam, it did not hamper Akiko’s slight in the slightest.
Already, his chakra’s flow and signature began to stutter as the grievous wound unravelled in all its mortal glory.
If another Senju wanted to cut her down now, they could have - she was the proverbial sitting duck. But the battle seemed to have come to a halt anyway; Madara was by Izuna’s side before he could collapse to the ground and be robbed of his dignity.
Akiko couldn’t hear what her brother was screaming at him.
Only when a hand roughly grabbed her shoulder and shook her, she broke through her stupor and time flowed again.
Fukuko’s sorrowful, crimson sharingan eyes stared directly at her.
Akiko’s ears were still ringing. She tore her glance back to her brothers - and now Hashirama Senju, a few yards away from them, talking. Dumbfounded, she sheathed her katana and stumbled forward towards them. Fukuko shouted something Akiko didn’t hear. Maybe the woman also tugged on her sleeve to make her stop. And perhaps she did - she was entirely numb, the world was reduced to the three men Akiko's gaze was fixated on.
“Madara, we can make peace ,” the Senju leader spoke, no, implored her eldest brother.
Izuna’s arm was wrapped around his shoulder, he was coughing blood. “Don’t listen to their lies, brother!”
Madara’s eyes turned towards his younger brother - and there was something in them Akiko seldom ever had seen.
Doubt.
A hint of… indecisiveness?
With what little power she had left, she gathered the will to speak up, for better or worse. “Madara, please,” her voice called out, firmly. As firmly as she could, anyway - it still came out a broken off plea, a far cry from her steadfast determination.
All three men glanced at her, but the only one Akiko could look at was Izuna. Izuna, whose glance narrowed by a slight margin that was not at all lost on her, coughing up another pointed slew of blood right into her direction.
In an instant what little composure the woman had gained shattered. He might as well have driven a kunai into her heart.
Madara found his words first. “We’re leaving,” and all traces of doubt were swiped away, his mien was indiscernible and hard. His hand reached behind him to procure a smoke bomb and a second later, Akiko could no longer see Izuna’s flickering chakra signature nor Madara’s blazing network.
She felt her breaths coming faster and heavier, her eyesight was swimming. Deliberately she freed herself of the burden of her sharingan, deactivating it. Her brothers had left - her and the clan behind.
All she saw were the Senju brothers - united. Tobirama’s ultramarine battle armor and white fur collar were splattered red.
Izuna’s blood.
His scarlet gaze locked with hers for a moment, narrowing.
Akiko turned away.
The battle was over.
Tobirama couldn’t claim he was entirely pleased by today’s turn of events.
The wound he had inflicted on Izuna Uchiha likely would result in death, or so he believed - judging what the Uchiha had been capable of mending so far, this probably would be out of their league. Not that he felt a shred of regret; today had been another meaningless battle in the absurd war they all fought - in the name of whoever paid them to do so. However Izuna’s relations were what worried him: the notorious clan leader no doubt will be lusting for bloody revenge. Tobirama could live with his mark on his back.
Although he could not help but wonder how his sister fared: Akiko Uchiha, the woman that had saved him not too long ago from the man he most likely slayed today. Only briefly had their eyes locked after the fact and her expression had been one of crumbling posture and shattering desperation.
Frankly, her vengeance might be all the more terrifying.
Yet once more, the man would carry it with ease. He lived with the consequences of his actions.
His elder brother had been unusually quiet throughout the whole dinner the two of them shared on the kotatsu in the Senju clan head’s house right now. Or rather, late evening meal, given the time of the day - everything had taken up quite some hours before they could rest again. Methodically both had worked through the aftermath of the battle with the Uchiha; helped to get the wounded and deceased back home, tended to them here and then to themselves. Honestly Tobirama did not even need to knead chakra and use his sensor skills to assess his brother’s chakra’s flow and scrutinize his emotions. Anytime he battled Madara, the man was befallen by solemn stillness.
Today might have been especially bad - today a bridge had been burned, Tobirama knew. Well, a bridge Hashirama liked to have seen. He, on the other hand, never had seen one there. Only wishful thinking he admittedly wanted to share but could not really. Not after that failed peace summit.
Still, he refused to discuss this with Hashirama yet unless his brother made any attempt to.
The clatter of armor in the grand main hall which adjourned their living quarters interrupted their quiet dinner. Both brothers’ heads expectantly turned to the door that connected to it; in which just a moment later, a quite tall, broad man with spiky, blonde hair stood. He still wore his heavy armor and a white headband, adorned with the Senju vajra.
Gotoku, a taijutsu specialist, a scouting veteran and also one of the most ... unique personalities in the whole of the clan.
Tobirama raised an expectant eyebrow. If he came here on urgent business, it most likely was something along the lines of life or death.
“So,” Gotoku began, huffing. “You might want to come out. Touka is about to behead that Uchiha gal who saved Tobirama a couple of weeks ago.”
Tobirama’s mouth hung agape.
Hashirama was on his feet before Tobirama could school his facial features again. Just a second later, he followed the two men out of the room, into the main hall; the heart of the building - encompassing both stories of it but narrow nonetheless. Just the right amount of what little luxury shinobi might afford - that was, at the time this venerable hall had been built. Since then, the clan had become wealthier, bigger; and thus, the hall more intricate.
“How?” Tobirama demanded as Gotoku led the way towards the gate of the hall.
The veteran gazed over his shoulder with a sly smirk. “She’s a cunning one, I’ll say,” he turned back as they crossed the big hall. “Bypassed our scouting parties like someone leaked her the patrol plans.” He pointedly sniffed.
“Your responsibility,” Tobirama drily commented as though that’d somehow ease the urgency that had him - them all - moving.
“Why is she here?” Hashirama inquired tersely.
Why indeed? Admittedly Tobirama had a fair idea as to why, but the thought was so outrageous he flat out refused to even voice it before he had seen anything with his own very eyes. Safe to say, the situation was peculiar; not just that - flat out dangerous. He felt a growing need to put on his battle armour over the black shirt and pants he was wearing right now, not having bothered to change them after today’s battle yet.
“Dunno yet, I was too busy getting someone over there who can make Touka stop, y’know,” Gotoku shrugged nonchalantly in a way that had Tobirama wonder if the man truly cared for Akiko Uchiha’s safety or simply wanted to grind on his younger sister’s nerves.
Possibly the latter.
“It might be unwise to kill the last of Madara Uchiha’s siblings on the same day, I’ll admit,” Tobirama instead commented drily and with no small amount of irony.
Hashirama’s stern gaze snapped around to him. “Tobirama! You don’t know if Izuna died! That’s disrespectful!”
Tobirama rolled his eyes. “Wishful thinking,” he muttered under his breath. His strike had been true. He knew, Hashirama knew.
Gotoku’s guffawing echoed through the hall just before they exited it to the main plaza of the Senju compound; framed by the buildings of the inner ring of the compound. “Anyhow,” he continued after he regained his composure. “The scouts she did encounter she put under a genjutsu the idiots didn’t break out of. Remarkably gentle though, I’ll say.”
“How kind of her,” the sarcasm in Tobirama’s voice was caustic.
Hashirama was by Gotoku’s side; Tobirama didn’t appreciate the spring in his gait. “Where is she now?”
“Main gate,” Gotoku grunted, his hand pointing in the direction as they swiftly crossed the plaza. “Apparently served herself on a platter to the guards.”
“Seeing how the scouting patrols were no match for her, obviously she needed more of a challenge,” Tobirama observed, somehow even more sarcastic than before.
Gotoku’s head whipped around again. He’d take only so much of Tobirama’s attitude, but the man regarded him with a lazily drawn up eyebrow. “Perhaps the grandiose Tobirama can teach them better once they all slept off their wet, sparkly eye induced dream,” he growled.
“No thank you, I have other business to attend to.”
“Yeah, like inventing even more pointless-”
Hashirama abruptly halted in his tracks. “Enough, both of you!” His brown stare mustered both furiously. “It’s beyond me how you both find the energy to bicker endlessly, but this ends now.” In a rare show of pointed strictness and unmistaken anger, Hashirama angled his forehead slightly forward to cast a shadow over his face. “Understood?”
Tobirama’s lips were a tight line. It was pointless to argue with Hashirama now and once more he needn’t to funnel chakra into his sensor skills to assess his brother’s feelings - the man was on edge and high strung.
Surprisingly, Gotoku honored his clan leader’s orders without any further comment by picking up the pace towards the main gate of the compound.
They bypassed the inner and outer ring of buildings quickly towards the entrance and dismally, Tobirama realised his nosy clan members already gathered nearby for the commotion that was the arrival of the most quaint - most unwelcome - person to ever have come here.
Akiko Uchiha, the younger sister of the reigning Uchiha clan leader Madara.
A few hours earlier.
The sun had not yet started to set but begun its slow descent down to bring the night upon them. With a heavy heart, Akiko turned back from the train of dark-clothed and armoured warriors behind her as they trudged through the forest towards the Uchiha compound. They were the rear guard - the injured had already been hauled away the instant the battle had ended. Their duty was to protect their retreat as well as bring the fallen home. Too many, for Akiko’s taste, but then again every life lost in this war was once too much.
It was still - it always was after the shinobi had released such massive amounts of chakra. Their fire releases alone were sure to scare off any animal in a good radius. The vegetation wasn’t dense here, either - it had been a rocky plateau with many little rivers running over it where the clash with the Senju had been fought to its cruel end.
Once again.
Akiko hadn’t sustained any major injuries except for some strained muscles, but her reserves were depleted. She was sweating underneath her chest armor piece and the typical Uchiha clanswear tunic she wore beneath reeked of metal, blood and singed material. The sheathed katana on her left side was snugly fit into her white belt, as was the wakizashi alongside a small bag with a few more supplies.
They moved silently - as was to be expected from shinobi - despite being battleworn- exhausted and dirtied by mud and the blood of the enemy and their own clan alike. Nobody spoke a word, stony miens trained on the surroundings or the ground were focused to get back home and yet lost in the aftermath of the battle. It hadn’t been a loss, no - but not a victory, either.
It always was like this when they battled the Senju.
Next to Akiko, a slightly smaller woman with an interesting haircut was eyeing her, a frown etched into her face. Fukuko had suffered a bit more - her left sleeve was torn to reveal a bloody, cut arm that she vehemently refused to be healed by retreating in the main group. It wasn’t a lethal injury and she was able to form seals with one hand, so what did it matter? Not like they’d encounter a random Senju anyway, they were off licking their own wounds as the Uchiha were, she had grunted.
Still, the intensity of her frown was somewhat lessened by the unruly hair that stuck out into all directions - usually she’d have a neatly trimmed bob-style haircut, but due to the endeavours of the day, it stuck out in every direction.
Actually, Fukuko looked like a Senju had shocked her with a lighting jutsu or something. Akiko didn’t rule out the possibility, but she was too downbeat to make the remark.
“So,” her friend began in her high-pitched, remarkable voice. “That doesn't look good.”
Of course she’d wonder. Who wouldn’t? Akiko heaved a heavy sigh and sounded nothing short of fatalistic in her reply. “Are you referring to me or Izuna?” Her gaze wandered back to the path. “Because that is kind of unclear, right now.”
Fukuko huffed. “I was referring to Izuna… but you are right.”
A constricting feeling wound around her chest; like a rope that wanted to pull on her too tight. Akiko closed her eyes. “The… next few hours will tell.” On both accounts, quite possibly.
She puffed a breath through her thin nose. “Mhm.”
They wandered onwards for a few more meters, but the feeling didn’t fade - rather, it became nagging. Akiko really had a mind to start sprinting for home and check on her brother - but what could she do? Izuna would need extensive medical attention.
And Madara...
Fukuko’s voice ripped her out of her thoughts. “Why did you do it, Akiko?” The question was demanding - not accusing, but bold nonetheless. Then again, Fukuko always spoke boldly, if right now quiet enough so none of the other clan members might hear.
That didn’t mean Akiko was any more willing to divulge the issue, though. “Do we have to do this now, again?” The roll of her eyes would easily deter most people from questioning further.
But Fukuko wasn’t most people. Instead, frustration snuck into her quiet tone. “Out of all the fucking Senju-”
Akiko’s gaze snapped to her, narrowing. “You know why I did it.”
Her friend held it evenly though - in fact, her nostrils were flaring from indignation as her fists balled. “Tobirama Senju.” The way she spat his name, Akiko wouldn’t be surprised if the man tripped over a stone and twisted his ankle, right now. “Do you realise what his death would've meant?”
However her attitude rolled off of Akiko like water on oiled leather. The woman simply drew a deep breath, shook her head once and regained her posture as though she was just smoothing out a wrinkle in a piece of clothing. “It doesn’t matter who. All bridges to peace would've been blazing, forever. Who are we, starting attacks on a peaceful meeting?”
It seemed to pacify Fukuko - somewhat. Enough to make even her sound somber. “And yet Izuna wouldn't be…”
Instantly, Akiko’s gaze dropped back on the ground. She turned back towards their path as the tight feeling in her chest grew more uncomfortable, her heart hammering against her chest armour, slowly, painfully.
She heard the woman click her tongue - a low thud on the ground indicated a stomp of her foot. Suddenly, the warm palm of a hand was on her shoulder. Akiko lifted her sorrowful glance to gaze into Fukuko’s desperate obsidian one. “I'm sorry. I just - fuck, Akiko, do you honestly think he'd have jumped to your defense if Hashirama had been about to impale you, right now?”
Akiko barked a caustic laugh, uncaring if anyone turned their head. “No, of course not.”
Fukuko’s free hand gestured wildly. “Well, duh?”
Again, she heaved a heavy sigh. “Because we have been paid to fight today. When I saved Tobirama, he had come in peace. Izuna's attack was wrong.” Time and again, she had to explain her actions to anyone who asked - and frankly she did so with more fervor. She believed in it.
Even… even now.
Still, her body felt limp as this never ending march dragged on and on. The tightness in her chest seemed to be the only real thing she felt, the almost inaudible movement of her clan droning around her. A clink on armor, here and there. Her heart hurt.
Fukuko’s hand squeezed her shoulder. “I sure hope you can convince Madara of that,” a rare streak of sadness painted her high tone.
Akiko’s lip quivered. “Me, too,” she murmured, perfectly cynical.
She stayed silent - long enough to let her raise her glance to find her friend’s mien drawn in a frown again. It was different now - burdened. “Akiko?” Finally, her sorrowful eyes were on her again.
“Fukuko?”
“I’m worried, okay?”
Akiko dared a tiny, brave smile. A little gesture that cost her everything, or so she felt - but she topped it off by placing her hand on Fukuko’s on her shoulder, giving it a pat. “I’ll be fine.”
The frown on her smooth face didn’t ease out however, not the slightest. In fact, the woman pulled Akiko closer to let her hand rest on her other shoulder, and keep walking right by her side, holding her close. Tight.
As though they might not get many more chances.
Because that was what Akiko felt like.
Maybe it was unconscious, maybe not - but the train had picked up on speed slightly as they neared the Uchiha compound in the light forest. Perched on a low, rolling hill, Akiko could make out the shape of the main family’s house already - one of the few tall buildings in the huddled settling they had created over a long, long time.
With each step her feet felt more leaden, but she pushed forward, nonetheless.
The nine guard towers placed throughout the compound had already lit the fires - hailing the return of the fallen comrades. They’d burn until their remains were ashes, carried away by the wind. The injured had been taken to the infirmary, located near the heart of the compound - bustling with activity. Whoever was not already mourning their fallen brothers or sisters was here, praying for their lives, or aiding in saving them.
Akiko had given Fukuko a firm hug before setting off to her home - the clan leader’s house, as it were. Located in the center of the compound, she navigated the seemingly chaotic arrangement of the buildings, some more narrow, some less - until she reached the Uchiwa-fan adorned gates to the square complex, made up by several houses; in the middle a small plaza. Towering before her, comprising much of the far wall of the complex was the main family’s quarters: a two story building with a slant, black roof - the home of her family, the home she had been born in.
Izuna would be here now; after Madara had shunshined off with him right after Tobirama Senju’s odachi had run through his chest.
A shiver ran down her spine; ice-cold as her heart hammered against her chest and she wondered if she could even step inside. But before she knew it, she was there.
The following hours were spent in silence.
Izuna had not been conscious anymore - Madara was kneeling next to him, cradling his increasingly cold hand in his lap. When Akiko entered, he didn’t look up or speak - he didn’t have to. The presence of death was heady and drawing closer every moment as their brother’s breath rang more and more shallow with each squelching sound his chest produced. The healers had given him their all - but the slice had been precise, murderous and the healing they provided couldn’t seal the damage sufficiently.
Slowly, Izuna’s life flickered away as Akiko and Madara each held his hand.
And finally, he breathed no more.
The silence was deafening. Akiko bent over her brother’s still semi-warm body as never-ending tears streamed down her face, her sobs - howls lost to the loneliness that was filling her. Over and over, she sucked in broken breaths to grapple with the endless void of sorrow that was before her, but it didn’t end. It just did not end.
Madara fared no better - like Akiko, tears he’d rarely shed were flowing freely and though more quiet, his laboured breaths were broken apart by desperate sobs.
Akiko didn’t know how long they sat there, quivering over Izuna’s corpse. But finally, silently, she rose to her feet. Nothing had changed - and Madara still didn’t utter a word towards her - but she had to get out of her armor now. Get rid of her weapons - of anything that reminded her of all this.
How would she go on, now?
Akiko Uchiha was kneeling in front of the gates of the Senju compound. Tobirama’s steps carried him over swiftly, Hashirama a few steps ahead, Gotoku directly by his side. There was a katana at her throat that she had bared - her blindfolded gaze trained at the sky, the expression empty. Tobirama couldn’t help but wonder about the piece of cloth - it was adorned with seals that seemed to be made to disrupt and lock away chakra flow. A second later it dawned upon him - this blindfold most likely made it impossible for her to activate her sharingan.
His scarlet gaze widened just slightly. Talk about serving herself at knifepoint, really.
At each side and behind her were armed and armoured Senju guards, ready to kill her at the first sign of resistance; the most eager of them of course being Touka, a tall, broad-shouldered woman with sharp silver eyes and a mean attitude. Her katana pressed so hard against Akiko’s neck, if she swallowed hard enough she’d probably cut herself. And yet - Akiko Uchiha was the epitome of calmth - Tobirama already tuned into his sensor skills to send a strong pulse of chakra out in order to scrutinize the flow and pattern of those around him, quickly filtering out the many, many signatures he was not interested at all in to single in on one person in particular.
He shuddered when he recognized the chakra of the Uchiha woman. Now, he could scrutinize it more closely as there was nobody actively trying to kill him.
Perfectly still. Trademark Uchiha, but quaint nonetheless - not the wild, roaring fires they usually were. Hers seemed more confined. Controlled, but still feral. A muzzled beast, perhaps. His gaze narrowed. He didn’t like it when things didn’t stick to the norm.
It made them unpredictable. Uchiha were the definition of that; and now here was one not even abiding to the Uchiha norm. To make matters worse, underneath the calmth he quickly deciphered more of the emotional static that accompanied her chakra flow: something was swirling. Grief? Sorrow? It was fiercely, desperately subdued, but lingering.
Hashirama was swift to seize control of - whatever this was. “What is going on here?”
Touka, as captain of the guard, answered. “An Uchiha defector. She claims she comes in peace.”
Tobirama was still reeling from the fact how odd Akiko Uchiha seemed. To think he’d meet her again, here - of all the shinobi in the world. His gaze widened, but he remained silent.
Hashirama seemed equally surprised by the gentle nature of this meeting. “Akiko Uchiha,” he breathed as recognition settled in, slowly.
The woman did not move an inch. Her voice - an icy shiver ran down Tobirama’s spine when he heard it again, that clear, firm sound. Dignified, even when kneeling on the ground, weaponless, a millimeter away from being killed. She garnered more respect than many shinobi he had met in all of his life. “Hashirama Senju.”
A low murmur groaned through the gathered Senju. Even though Tobirama was singling out her chakra signature and flow alone, the noise of their signatures flared enough to annoy his fine sensor skills.
“Madara’s sister?”
“What’s she doing here?”
“Is she here because of Tobirama?”
Tobirama’s breath hitched. Instantly, his gaze dropped to the ground lest anyone might see the shadow that fell over his glance - the clan knew of course he had grievously wounded a dangerous adversary today; however the fact Akiko had been his saviour weeks prior was knowledge merely Hashirama was privy to as well as a select few high ranking clan members that had been there on that fateful day. It wasn't so much secrecy as it was deemed insignificant: the peace summit had failed, they were enemies still and Akiko Uchiha's effort had been honorable, but nothing more in the greater picture.
Perhaps… that might change.
He balled his fists by his side, gathering his bearings. Already his mind raced and reached a conclusion none of the attending - except for Hashirama - could reach. A conclusion that didn’t sit well with Tobirama, and one he couldn’t yet handle, really.
Dangerous. That was what this was. He looked up again, eyes narrowed to tiny slits.
Touka spoke next; her voice as cutting as the weapon on her throat was, possibly more merciless. “Now, what in the world would make Madara’s sister leave her beloved clan? And seek peace with us?” She practically spat the words at her, fuming.
But Tobirama knew the answer already.
He knew because he had run his blade through the answer’s chest today.
“Elder brother,” Tobirama tersely reminded him, prompting Hashirama’s incredulous gaze to sweep over to his deep frown. He gave his brother a meaningful glance through narrowed scarlet eyes.
Hashirama caught on. Akiko Uchiha's presence here meant one thing; one thing only.
Silence. For a few moments, there was nothing but silence. Touka opened her mouth again to shout at her once more; demand the answer nonetheless - then he sensed it; the ripple in the background noise of Akiko’s chakra’s flow. A slight disturbance, not much - but something of a shadow besmirched the bright beacon it was, tainted it.
A sniffle followed. The woman shuddered, shivered.
Hashirama took another step towards her, eyebrows furrowed in worry.
Then finally, she spoke. Only now, her firm voice wasn’t just that anymore - it was cracking, breaking. Everyone could tell the woman desperately wanted to keep it together, but the grief was driving a spear through her heart. “My brother Izuna succumbed to the wounds he suffered in battle today. Seeing how I saved you before, Tobirama Senju, my brother and clan leader, Madara, blames me for his death.”
A low hiss echoed through the scene. Everyone attending seemed to stare in shock at the woman, then at each other, and finally Tobirama.
Who simply stared darkly at her, arms crossing in front of his chest. Her own naiveté had caught up to her. Truly, she had made a valiant effort for peace - one the Senju and he himself had honored with an attempt at a peace summit - and one he nearly paid with his life. Briefly, he wondered if he felt any kind of remorse, now.
He didn’t.
Hashirama spoke again. “I see. You’re coming here for shelter, then?”, his voice was mellow now. Of course, Tobirama figured, the fool would welcome her with open arms. He was not about to lose another brother to Uchiha revenge thirst, however. Peace summit and saving him or not - right now, Akiko Uchiha was the epitome of volatile Uchiha .
“Elder brother,” he cautioned, voice low. The warning was clear.
The woman’s voice had become firmer again, but no less weightened. “I have nowhere else to go. Turn me down, if you must, but then I ask for a swift death.”
Touka clicked her tongue. “That can be arranged.”
“Enough!”, Hashirama bellowed and everyone froze at once. His brother rarely opted for a display of utter force. But when he did, it was fearsome. The way his chakra flared now was easy to pick up even for non sensors - Tobirama thought he was going blind any second now; he was forced to completely stop sensing for a moment lest he’d be overwhelmed.
Hashirama’s voice was stern and left no room for discussion. “I understand your predicament. However, you need to understand it is hard to trust the Uchiha as of now.” That peace summit had driven the wedge deeper than before.
The woman gave a humorless chuckle. “I cannot blame you the slightest.” She drew a deep breath. “I ask not for trust. I ask for a chance to stay alive. But if you need proof of my integrity, then I’ll refer to the fact I saved your brother’s life.”
Again, an eerie silence filled the scenery. Nobody wanted - nobody dared to speak a word. What this woman had said was unheard of, and yet here they were. The guards gave Tobirama questioning looks he deflected easily by keeping his piercing gaze trained on their new arrival. Hashirama knew the story already, and the Senju leader was pondering.
There was just one way to solve this, in Tobirama’s mind.
He took decisive steps towards the prisoner. Behind him, his brother called out, but Tobirama wasn’t going to stop now. The problem was obvious: was this woman on a suicide mission to regain her honor and kill him? Or was she actually looking for peace?
He’d find out.
In front of her, his hand seized her jaw and yanked her head slightly backwards more. She didn’t flinch, she didn’t move an inch, she didn’t do so much as huff - she let him handle her roughly without shuddering. Touka pressed the blade’s edge so close to her throat now the skin was about to break.
“Careful,” she grunted, eyes never leaving Akiko.
“What the hell are you doing, Tobirama?!”, Hashirama shouted, fearsomely stern, already stalking up behind him.
“Finding out if this is some suicide redemption plot or if she’s real,” Tobirama gruffly replied, grip on her jaw tightening.
Something caught his attention. At this proximity - and with this angle - underneath the high collar of her typical Uchiha clanswear, he made out bruises on her neck. They had an unfortunate, distinct shape - handprints.
His gaze narrowed. Interesting, but not his primary concern right now.
When next he spoke, his voice was icy, his words were brutal and his intention clear. “Are you here to seek peace, then?” The moment he spoke, he let his sensor skill flare up with a powerful burst directed at Akiko Uchiha only to examine her chakra signature most closely - look for any kind of mismatch in her works and the flow of it; even the slightest hint of disruption, of a lie. He’d find it.
She didn’t flinch. “I am.”
Nothing about her chakra changed.
All he sensed was the blazing beacon of a fiery Uchiha chakra network; and the static of her emotions - despondent tranquility and an endless sea of grief behind it, welling, clouding her mind. He didn’t even want to peer past that; she certainly didn’t either. Akiko was volatile alright - ready to burst into tears at any given moment and become a sobbing mess. But definitely not a murderer.
Still, Tobirama gritted his teeth. It seemed impossible, almost. An Uchiha that sought peace with the killers of her clan, their sworn enemies?
This wouldn't do yet. He had to make absolutely sure. Time to up the strain.
Tobirama went as far as to let his chakra itself prod at her network through the skin contact they shared - a rather intrusive action, aiming for her mind, almost as though he interrogated her. Well, in a sense, he did. But she? She didn’t waver. She didn’t even try to evade or repulse him - in fact she seemed to readily let him in.
Only the corner of her mouth turned down, besides the looming shadow of immeasurable grief there was just a smidge of revulsion to be deciphered in the noise of her chakra’s flow. She wouldn't be able to hide how she felt about his treatment, of course.
“I killed your brother, Akiko Uchiha. You’re not going to seek revenge against me? Against the Senju?”
She didn’t answer right away. Tobirama’s eyes widened slightly as he continued to scrutinize her chakra’s signature - and examine whatever inward sign she might give off. There still was no disturbance, no anger, no hatred - only the stale, dark blanket of sorrow she kept at bay with all her might.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her voice was about to break. “I’m not.”
Momentarily, he was at a loss. Her reaction - he had been so sure to elicit something. At this point it’d have been human. Yet save for grief - an endless, hopeless sea of grief she was wallowing in behind a perfect mask of calmth - Tobirama now realised, there was nothing.
Preposterous. Outrageous. An Uchiha that didn't respond with blind hatred?
But here she was - and Tobirama’s sensor skills one of the finest he knew of. If she was lying, or hiding even a shred of hatred, he’d have picked up on it.
So it … must be true.
The man still refused to give up, yet. Stubbornly, he decided to take it to another extreme: maybe Akiko needed another push before anything would simmer through. “I don’t feel a shred of remorse for killing Izuna, Akiko,” he continued, his voice brutally cold. The grip on her jaw tightened. He could feel her body tremble. “And yet you seek peace here? With us?”
She had to swallow again, larynx moving uncomfortably against the blade that pressed onto her throat. “I do. I’m not here for revenge. I swear , please.” The plea was hauntingly innocent. Even more so for him - he, who knew it was honest. Pure, as pure as these things were - her chakra’s signature still wouldn’t give off any sign of a lie. All his actions amounted to was bringing her closer to tears, closer to bursting - to embarrass herself in front of people that considered her a sworn enemy. It seemed… unworthy of him.
Again, silence stretched. Tobirama refused to believe this was it - but with the evidence at hand, it seemed to be it. He hated that.
Hashirama put a hand on his shoulder. “Well, brother?” The warning in his tone was clear. His brutality had not gone unnoticed, and his brother naturally would’ve guessed he did more than just ask uncomfortable questions.
Tobirama gritted his teeth painfully. He’d need to admit it now. “She isn’t lying, elder brother.” He let go of her jaw and stepped back slowly.
The woman’s breaths came ragged now, her lower lip quivered.
Hashirama nodded. “Then she will be allowed to stay with us.”
Touka’s head whipped up and around to Hashirama. “What?!”
The Senju leader’s stare clouded over fast and his voice carried a dangerous, strict undercurrent again. “No discussions now. Lead her away,” he instructed, leaving no question about how sincerely he meant this.
Incredulously, Touka sheathed her blade and yanked Akiko up by her arm in what looked to be an utterly painful way.
Tobirama’s scarlet gaze kept boring into the strange blindfold the woman wore.
What was up with her?
Akiko wondered if she ever had been humiliated like this before. In fact, it had taken all of her willpower to not shout at Tobirama if he also wasn’t planning to strip her down in front of the crowd she heard had gathered. To search more for lies underneath her clothes - after again and again she reaffirmed her innocent and peaceful intentions. Then again, the guards had already searched her and, of course, relieved her of her weapons and her satchel. That was to be expected, but Akiko wouldn’t deny the ice-cold shiver that ran down her spine as she had been kneeling down in front of the Senju, defenseless, blind - she never had felt more helpless.
Tobirama Senju however had managed to make it worse - add humiliation on top of everything.
Naturally, she understood why. It still had not made anything feel better. In that moment it was hard to believe this was the path to peace - the path she’d take to follow her convictions.
The guards jostled her around and obediently, Akiko sat one foot in front of the other to wherever they were taking her. She’d get to live another day, at least.
Finally the quiet creak of a door announced their arrival somewhere and unceremoniously, she was shoved inside. Not a moment later, metal clinked around her wrists. Chakra restraints, Akiko realised instantly for the oppressive feeling that spread the moment both of her arms were secured in front of her.
The door was slammed shut.
Alone, finally.
A moment later, she released the steely grip she had on herself. Akiko fell to her knees and let one ugly sob after the next wreck through her. Tears had turned the blindfold soaking wet.
She didn’t know how long she cried.
News travel fast in the Senju clan.
Not that Akiko’s announcement had exactly made a secret of her most heroic endeavour, no - rather, his brother’s outrageous decision to harbour an Uchiha within the compound will be making the round fast even before the sun had risen again.
The guards and their captain sure enough had complained loudly after Akiko had been out of hearing range.
“This is dangerous!”
“We make our own home a target!”
“Madara will come for her!”
And for the third time today, it had taken his brother’s ominous, authoritative presence to silence them all with a single, commanding shout that ripped through the commotion of headless chickens. This time though, the threat and intention had been clear enough.
“We will not discuss this tonight. Everyone back on their posts, now!” It was an order they all heeded wisely and within a minute, the crowd had dispersed.
With only a few strict stares the Senju leader reassured himself there was not a single element moping anymore, whispering or doing anything that did not seem like their duty. Once he was satisfied, Hashirama turned on his heel and stalked back to the main family’s house in the heart of the compound.
Tobirama accompanied him silently. He knew better than to ask Hashirama for his opinion on the matter now - his brother’s mind was churning and with a weak pulse of chakra, he assessed the static of his gargantuan chakra’s flow. It was in disarray - confused, hesitant but also… a bit hopeful.
He had to violently suppress a sigh at that, roll his eyes or pinch the bridge of his nose.
Tobirama himself couldn’t care less for the commotion or the complaints the people had issued. That woman bothered him for a whole different reason: the absolute lack of hatred or vengeance in herself.
In front of him, her brother’s murderer.
It was insane.
It wasn’t just insane, it didn’t make sense.
Tobirama hated when things didn’t make sense - when his razor sharp logic failed to supply him with a suitable explanation for something. It was one of the reasons he’d always be driven to look again, look harder, dissect the issue thoroughly until it made sense again. An Uchiha that did not feel even a shred of hatred, revenge - hell, just a smidge of anger - for her brother’s killer? Unprecedented.
He had to know why.
Long after they’d gotten back home and to bed, he still was awake. Lying on his futon for hours - the sun would rise again soon and the man only had gotten a few hours of fitful, light sleep as the issue vexed him still. The rattling mind wouldn’t stop going over the facts, what he had witnessed today.
No, he had to acquire more information to find a suitable answer.
There was only one source.