Work Text:
Senju Tobirama watches, expressionless, as Uchiha Hikaku desperately attempts to retrieve the body of an Uchiha child from four Shimura shinobi. Before today, Tobirama would have said that Hikaku is a talented shinobi, but not a threat to someone of Tobirama’s caliber. Now, he knows better.
For Hikaku is a feral firestorm in his rage, as unstable as Lord Uchiha Madara is when Uchiha Izuna is in mortal danger.
If the child were dead, if that fluttering spark of chakra and life were not held hostage by the shinobi who had gouged out the child’s eyes, then Tobirama is certain that Hikaku would obliterate the remaining Shimura in an instant. However, the child is in the direct path of any truly destructive jutsu. To eliminate his torturers would be to eliminate the child himself.
“You are not as skilled as expected,” one of the Shimura taunts Hikaku.
Tobirama has never held a high opinion of the intelligence of others. However, that particular Shimura has reached a depth of stupidity that makes it nothing short of a miracle that he can shunshin and speak simultaneously.
“How is he the third strongest in the Uchiha Clan?” another Shimura taunts. “He cannot even defend a single child.”
Hikaku snarls as viciously as Tobirama’s favored summons, all of his gleaming teeth on display in a threat that the Shimura are too foolish to heed as they attempt to flee Uchiha lands with the Sharingan eyes they have stolen, using the child’s limp body as a shield along the way.
Continuing to follow the fight along the opposite bank of the river—Tobirama will slaughter the Shimura if they dare to cross into Senju lands—he forces his breathing to remain even, to not allow the rage he feels to cloud his thinking and judgment.
“Lord Tobirama, we—”
The child’s chakra flickers weakly.
“Silence,” Tobirama orders the clanmates whose patrol joined him a few minutes past when the fight along their border broke out in earnest.
Tobirama despises bloodline thieves, though not as much as the Uchiha or Hyūga do. He is unsure if it is even possible for anyone to hate bloodline thieves more than those two clans with their highly coveted dōjutsu do. To steal that which is most sacred to a Clan, its very power and blood is an unforgivable crime. However, even more than bloodline thieves, Tobirama loathes the seemingly endless corpses of children, bereft of life from adult hands in a war they inherited.
He remembers well—will never be able to forget—the terror and resignation in his younger brother Itama’s chakra as he died at Uchiha hands all those years ago. This child, with Uchiha pale skin, curly black hair, and empty eye sockets with sunken lids that weep blood is of a similar age, perhaps even younger. Tobirama remembers well his desperate sprint to reach Itama’s side, remembers running so quickly that he thought his heart would burst, remembers arriving too late to save him. Remembers, in perfect detail, every injury on his dead younger brother’s body. Remembers—for how could Tobirama ever forget?—feeling something inside of himself shatter.
Hikaku’s chakra is a feral thing, insanity and violence bound together and burning so brightly that it nearly overpowers the oncoming inferno that is Uchiha Madara, whose own chakra is decidedly unstable.
“Lord Tobirama?” Senju Hidema dares to ask when Tobirama pauses.
Tobirama ignores his distant cousin and probes the child’s chakra more deeply. Ah, he is a descendant of the main bloodline of the Uchiha Clan. It is no wonder that Hikaku is feral, no wonder that Madara is almost as mentally unstable as he is when Izuna is in mortal peril.
The Uchiha have never dealt well with the loss of a loved one.
Neither, for that matter, have the Senju.
If this Uchiha child dies as the Senju watch from across the river, doing nothing to prevent it, Madara will surely turn his madness against them, even though they had no part in this wicked scheme. He and Hikaku will slaughter the Shimura and then turn on the Senju, with whom they have an established pact—since Tobirama’s honorable elder brother, Hashirama, became Clan Head upon their honorable father’s passing into the Pure Lands—that child-hunting is forbidden and punishable by death.
Allowing a child to die via non-interference is not, technically, child-hunting. However, Tobirama knows Madara well enough to be certain he will not care one whit for technicalities should his young kinsman perish while the Senju could easily turn the battle in Hikaku’s favor.
“Is all well, Lord Tobirama?” Senju Chieko asks.
“You are hereby charged with my physical safety for the immediate future,” Tobirama instructs.
He latches his chakra carefully into the Uchiha child’s body and uses it to swiftly remove him from the Shimura’s hold. Then Tobirama’s chakra carries the boy across the width of the river to himself. The majority of the human body is comprised of water. There is no one in the Elemental Nations more skilled at Suiton than Tobirama. He uses that same mastery to relieve the Shimura of the child’s Sharingan eyes, which they have been unwise enough to not seal into a scroll for transport.
“Senju!” the Shimura who was holding the child’s body before Tobirama stole it screams and leaps toward the river.
Hikaku separates the man’s head from his body before he can take more than a single step, a whirling demon of steel and blood. Limbs and gore fly in his wake, fire and smoke wafting through the air as he throws himself in the middle of the Shimura and hacks away at them with a savagery that has Tobirama’s clanmates tightening their grip on their weapons.
Tobirama kneels in seiza on the riverbank, the child’s head resting on his thigh, and prepares to do for an enemy what he was unable to do for Itama. If the Elders press for his reasoning, for what many will consider treason, he has an impenetrable report prepared. He will explain his rationale and convince them his actions are—as they have always been and always must be—beneficial to the Senju Clan.
“Lord Tobirama, what—?”
“Pay attention to our surroundings,” Tobirama snaps.
His fingers glow with green chakra as he lays a hand over the boy’s empty eye sockets, purging away the beginnings of an infection. Ocular healing is finicky. There are many small—
“Behind yo—!”
“Doton—”
Screams of agony fill the air as Hikaku dismembers the Shimura with a rage in his chakra that tilts perilously close to insanity. It is essential for Tobirama to produce sufficient progress in healing the child before Hikaku finishes, else the war between their clans will reach heights it has not since the aftermath of Itama’s death more than ten summers ago.
Tobirama cleanses the first eye, so accustomed to gore that he does not even wince when he uses water heated by a spark of fire chakra to remove all foreign contaminants from the dangling viscera on the back of the Sharingan eye. He lifts the child’s left eyelid with his thumb, grateful that the boy is insensate with pain and unable to fight; it would defeat the purpose of Tobirama’s actions if he were required to harm the boy to keep him still in order to heal him to prevent a marked escalation in violence between their two clans.
“Lord Tobirama, why—?”
“I will not tell you again, Hidema,” Tobirama states with a frigidity to his voice that has Hidema abruptly turning his attention back to the massacre occurring across the river.
Reattaching an eye is a complicated, delicate process. That being said, it is easily within Tobirama’s skillset. He has honed himself as a weapon, both sword and shield, since he was born the second son of the Senju Clan Head. It is his responsibility and honor to apply himself to everything that might benefit his clan. Hence, his dedication in creating and perfecting as many healing jutsu as is feasible.
It is a waste of resources to train up new shinobi when damaged ones can be repaired and returned to full functionality. It is Tobirama’s honor and duty to save as many of his clanmates as he possibly can in any given situation.
Tobirama completes the first transplant just as Hikaku steps onto the river. He has channeled so much chakra into his feet that each step across the top of it sounds like a peal of thunder. The Senju surrounding Tobirama tense, prepared to defend him should Hikaku enter Senju lands or attack.
Despite wearing his happuri, Tobirama’s silver hair is so long when he is bent over the Uchiha child that the strands impede some of his peripheral vision—a flaw he will fix immediately after fulfilling his current task. He keeps an eye on the approaching Uchiha.
Hikaku collapses on his knees in seiza at the very edge of the river, as close to Senju land as he can physically get without entering their territory. “Kagami,” he rasps, hands twitching on his thighs as he stares at Tobirama’s green-glowing hands.
The Senju patrol squad, already twitchy, grows even more so when Madara bursts out of the trees and lands on the river at Hikaku’s side, his chakra wild in the way it always is when his Mangekyō Sharingan is active.
“Report!” Madara orders, his voice a threat of impending death.
“I dispatched the Shimura, Lord Madara, after Lord Tobirama somehow brought Kagami across the river without entering our lands,” Hikaku replies instantly, his hands digging into his thighs as Tobirama casually cleanses the remaining eye, which still floats in the air in his chakra’s grip.
Tobirama lifts Kagami’s right eyelid even more gently than he did the left, now that he is performing the task under the burning gaze of Lord Uchiha Madara.
At this distance, it is uncertain whether Tobirama can rend the blood from Madara’s body before Madara separates his head from his shoulders. It is a weakness—a vulnerable position to which he has willingly subjected himself—which is unforgivable. It is Tobirama’s duty to live, to continue guarding his clan, to complete the missions that are too difficult for others in the Senju Clan, that they might have enough money in the coffers to keep everyone fed and provided for during the lean months.
“Lord Tobirama,” Madara grits out, his tone declaring that what he truly wishes is to snarl Demon Senju, “why is Kagami in Senju lands?”
“I have taken this child hostage, obviously,” Tobirama replies as he lowers the remaining Sharingan eye with a masterful display of chakra control so that he can begin the process of reattaching it.
“This Uchiha Hikaku thanks you, Lord Tobirama, for removing Kagami from danger and returning his eyes to him,” Hikaku states, bowing as lowly as he can without crossing the border.
“Why are you healing him?” Madara demands.
“Lord Hashirama has declared that all political hostages are to be kept in good health,” Senju Chieko replies when Tobirama does not answer.
For all that he is rash and excessively emotional, Madara is not stupid. He would not have lived as long as he has—already thirteen years past the expected lifespan of a clan born shinobi—if such were the case.
“You took Kagami hostage so that you could heal him without committing treason against your clan,” Madara states, his chakra flaring with so much admiration and desire that, for just a moment, Tobirama’s concentration almost slips.
He has wondered, more than once, what it would feel like to have the wealth of Madara’s passion focused on himself. However, he has never allowed the thoughts to linger. The Senju and Uchiha are enemies and, as such, Madara is not someone Tobirama may allow himself to—
“This child belongs to the Uchiha Clan’s main bloodline. He is a valuable political hostage. That is the only reason—”
“Marry me,” Madara demands.
For the first time in his life, Tobirama’s brain, which always works at high speeds, non-stop, stills. It only lasts for a moment, but the feeling is so foreign, so unexpected, so startling, so outside of Tobirama’s realm of reference, that he glances up, accidentally staring right into Madara’s spinning Mangekyō.
It is, perhaps, the gravest error that Tobirama has ever made. He waits for Madara to cast the genjutsu that is infamous for shredding the sanity of those who are subjected to it, for Madara to use his moment of weakness to destroy the greatest threat to the Uchiha Clan—for Tobirama has never forgotten his honorable father’s instructions and teachings, has always done everything in his power to guard the Senju Clan, and has soaked his sword and hands with Uchiha blood in the process.
It does not come.
“Lord Madara—” Tobirama cuts himself off and returns his focus to the child whose head rests on his thigh, meticulously attaching everything, healing what was torn, ensuring that Kagami will see as clearly now—if not better than—as he did before the Shimura removed his eyes.
“Marry me,” Madara repeats as soon as Tobirama has finished the healing, his hands no longer glowing green.
The Senju patrol squad’s chakra resonates with so much shock and disbelief that if Tobirama did not know for a fact how dearly his clanmates respect and value him, it would cut him to the bone.
“I have given Hashirama my word that I will not accept a proposal of marriage without his approval,” Tobirama replies, his pulse unacceptably fast as he rises from seiza with Kagami in his arms.
Madara’s eyes flicker away from Tobirama’s just long enough to glance in the direction of Hashirama’s rapidly approaching chakra. Tobirama is impressed that his honorable elder brother managed to stay in the compound until Madara himself arrived at the river.
“I will negotiate for Kagami’s release while we await Lord Hashirama’s arrival, then,” Madara states.
“That is acceptable,” Tobirama replies.
“Lord Tobirama, what will you consider acceptable recompense for the return of a child of my blood?” Madara asks formally as his eyes return to the regular iteration of the Sharingan.
“A sworn vow before the gods of non-interference in Senju Clan missions for the next two seasons,” Tobirama replies instantly. There are several Senju shinobi and kunoichi who are now old enough to run missions outside of the compound, many of them his students. If Tobirama can guarantee their safety from the Uchiha for two seasons, it will allow them enough time to adjust to missions before the danger increases.
“This Uchiha Madara vows before Amaterasu-Ōmikami that no one of Uchiha blood will intentionally interfere in a mission run by anyone of Senju blood for the next two seasons in exchange for the safe return of Uchiha Kagami,” Madara swears, a bright mark in the shape of half of a sun burning itself into the chakra between his eyes as Amaterasu-Ōmikami signals her acceptance of the vow.
Once it is complete, any Uchiha who breaks the vow will die, their Sharingan burning in their heads with the black flames of Amaterasu-Ōmikami’s rage.
“This Senju Tobirama, in the sight of Susanoo-no-Mikoto, here and now relinquishes Uchiha Kagami to Lord Uchiha Madara in exchange for non-interference from those of Uchiha blood in missions run by those of Senju blood for the next two seasons,” Tobirama states as he steps forward and deposits Kagami into Madara’s arms.
A crest of a wave meets the half of a sun as Amaterasu-Ōmikami and Susanoo-no-Mikoto burn the vow into the chakra of every Senju and Uchiha within Tobirama’s sensory range.
Madara’s chakra sweeps protectively over Kagami before he passes the unconscious child to Hikaku, who stands at his side with waiting arms. Hikaku clutches the child tightly, his chakra trembling with love and worry and relief.
Hashirama bursts out of the trees with a cry of, “Tobirama!” and lands beside him, his black eyes inspecting Tobirama for the slightest injury.
“I am well, brother,” Tobirama states before Hashirama’s worry turns into true concern. His honorable elder brother, despite knowing of Tobirama’s competence in the shinobi arts, is exceptionally protective of him. Tobirama cannot bear to find fault with Hashirama for the overprotectiveness, which occasionally feels stifling, not when Hashirama has already lost two younger brothers.
“Lord Senju Hashirama—”
Hashirama turns his attention to Madara, his posture suddenly perfect and as formal as Madara’s voice is.
“—this Uchiha Madara, Lord of the Uchiha Clan, expresses a marked admiration for your younger brother, Lord Senju Tobirama, and requests your blessing and permission to marry Lord Tobirama,” Madara states.
Hashirama’s chakra hardens in an instant, a minuscule amount of hope flickering along its edges, though his face remains politically polite as he replies, “I will not give my brother to an enemy. Not even one as powerful and prestigious as yourself, Lord Uchiha Madara.”
It is a kind rebuke, but it is a rebuke all the same.
“Grant me permission to wed your brother, Lord Senju Hashirama, and we shall no longer be enemies,” Madara says.
Tobirama breathes through the cacophony of emotions that erupt in the Senju patrol squad’s chakra, which fall short of the vibrancy and intensity of Hashirama’s emotions as Madara obliquely offers peace between their clans for the first time, after refusing Hashirama’s own offers at every turn since they both became Clan Heads.
Hashirama glances away from Madara—which, under the circumstances, is quite rude—to stare directly into Tobirama’s eyes as if he must witness Tobirama’s reaction to his next question himself, silently declaring it worthy of his entire attention. “Tobirama?”
If Tobirama had not already known that Hashirama loves him more dearly than anything else in the Elemental Nations, this would have proven it to him. His honorable elder brother has sought peace for their clan since he was a child. Yet, if that peace is conditional on Tobirama’s marriage to Madara, Hashirama will not reach out and grasp it without Tobirama’s consent, even though it is not strictly necessary. Tobirama is a loyal Senju and subject to his Clan Head’s will. If Hashirama were to order it, Tobirama would marry anyone, regardless of his own feelings on the union.
He is humbled by the love his honorable elder brother bestows on him.
“I am not opposed, brother,” Tobirama replies, well aware that responding in such a manner will alert Hashirama to the interest he has in Madara, an interest he has never allowed himself to ruminate on in depth.
Hashirama’s chakra is ebullient as he turns back to Madara. Flowers sprout from the ground, stretching as far as the eye can see on the Senju side of the river as Hashirama says, “Lord Uchiha Madara, this Senju Hashirama, Lord of the Senju Clan, grants you permission to marry Lord Senju Tobirama, conditional upon our clans no longer being sworn enemies.”
“This Uchiha Madara is honored by your acceptance and trust, Lord Senju Tobirama,” Madara says, breaking etiquette to address his response to Tobirama instead of the Senju Clan Head.
“May our union be blessed by the gods,” Tobirama replies.
Madara’s chakra rubs shamelessly against Tobirama’s. If anyone else present were a sensor, Tobirama would have hurriedly batted it away. As it is, he is embarrassed to acknowledge that he allows the contact for several seconds before he gently pushes it away.
It is the most intimate contact Tobirama has ever allowed. It is only his unshakable self-control that keeps him from visibly reacting to the possessive, hungry desire and aching need that radiates from Madara’s chakra into his own.
Until the peace is confirmed, Tobirama must not succumb to his future Lord Husband’s wiles.
Resisting will be difficult, but Tobirama has long since proven that he is more than capable of accomplishing that which is seemingly impossible to others. He has nearly finished a space-time jutsu that will allow him to teleport across great distances. He has already completed a jutsu that allows him to raise the dead and drag souls out of the Pure Lands.
Surely, in comparison to that, it will be a simple task to remain unseduced until his wedding to Lord Uchiha Madara.