Chapter Text
The battlefield was like any other, until it wasn’t. His new technique was supposed to overcome the endless struggle between himself and Izuna, to end–
It would end. As Tobirama breathed out, the little half-second it took to throw the Hiraishin-marked weapon and the other half of letting himself be tugged through time and space was almost enough to convince himself of that. To squash the doubts, the worries of how Hashirama would react, how Madara would react. How the clans would react, the rise of bloodshed to yet unseen brutality. He could- He must –
Terror. Sheer bone-deep terror and it was so familiar -terror, such deep terror and pain his little brother felt and Tobirama screamed as even those emotions and the familiar chakra disappeared forever- that Tobirama jerked on instinct, a twist of his hand that flipped the sharp end of his sword upside down and twisted the tip of it just enough that the stab turned into a harmless graze, the dull side of his sword not even leaving a scratch even as the enemy’s kunai buried itself deep enough into his armour to break skin underneath. Not deep enough to do serious harm, but with precision right where his heart was beating to the sound of a frantically heavy drum in his chest.
For a short moment, Tobirama’s eyes met Izuna’s own wide-eyed and bewildered stare, before he jerked his gaze away to not be caught in the Sharingan’s power as he scrambled to gain some distance. Over the loud pounding of his heart, Tobirama didn’t even hear the sounds around them, only flinching when something, no, someone, landed next to him and frantic hands hovered over the kunai still stuck in his chest. Across the river Tobirama could see Madara do the same for Izuna, though Izuna was only blankly staring across the water towards the Senju, his expression carefully wiped blank on his pale face as he was ushered backwards. Much in the same way, a hand was curling around his own shoulder, a big, familiar body inserting himself between him and their enemies.
“-rama? Tobirama! Can you hear me? How deep–” Hashirama’s panic-stricken voice slowly trickled through to him, making Tobirama finally rip away his eyes from the retreating Uchihas to look at his brother's scared face. His throat felt tight, a little like he was about to cry, but he held himself together by sheer willpower.
“Sorry-” Tobirama choked out, bitter resentment and the feeling of failure already setting in.
“I’m sorry- ” he gasped out, air suddenly in short supply that had nothing to do with Hashirama ripping the kunai out and dragging him into a bone-crushing hug, chakra encompassing him in green brilliance as his brother let his chakra spill out of him in massive waves that crashed over Tobirama, cradling him in the warmth of his brother’s presence.
“You are alright. It’s okay, that’s all that matters,” Hashirama babbled, hands roving over him glowing iryou-green as Hashirama double-, then triple-checked his health. Tobirama buried his face in his brother’s shoulder, feeling shaken. Then angry. Then defeated and maybe, just maybe a little relieved.
“It’s okay.” Hashirama carefully pulled back, looking at his face, expression serious as he looked Tobirama up and down, something wild and worried still in the tight corners of his eyes.
“You did good, little brother. Let’s get you home.”
His throat felt tight. He wanted to tell Hashirama how nothing was alright. How his one chance, his best chance to kill Izuna once and for all has just slipped through his hands due to sentimentality and because Tobirama was not sure he could stand disappointing his older brother and ripping away the dream Hashirama had so desperately held onto. Years he had spent working on that jutsu, honing it into the deadly trap he had sprung today, and now…
He knew, realistically, that even if he had succeeded, it would not have been the end. Not truly, and it likely would have undermined any proclamation of peace his brother had tried to convey to the Uchiha. In Uchiha Izuna’s death lay scorched earth and the screams of his people burned beyond recognition, Tobirama knew that.
He suddenly felt tired.
“It would have tipped the tide in our favour,” Tobirama muttered dully and Hashirama breathed out, hand heavy on his shoulder as he squeezed it in comfort.
“We will find peace. Another way. A better way.” Hashirama sounded so confident it broke Tobirama’s heart. For a moment, he stared at the warm brown eyes and tried to imagine the far-fetched dream his brother had so often told him about.
Whenever he thought about it, he couldn’t find a place for himself in it. He was a sword, forged by the trials of his youth and molded by the hands of his elders, only tempered by the kindheartedness of his owner. Never did Tobirama want to betray the trust he saw swimming in his brother's eyes.
He let his own eyes flutter shut as he gave a shallow nod, even though he couldn’t entirely believe in it. Maybe Hashirama and Madara had shared a similar dream, but their clans had different ideas. There were too many that were bound by the past, unable to change their ways and unwilling to accept that change brought by someone else's hand.
“Yes, Anija.” Hashirama’s green-glowing hand lifted from the hole in his armour, patting it lightly before he raised his hand to signal the Senju’s retreat as well.
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That evening Tobirama settled down for dinner with Hashirama, his brother taking extra care to heap more rice into his bowl. Tobirama allowed himself a tiny smile, hopelessly fond at the quiet mother henning Hashirama did and the obvious worry his brother held for him. It felt reassuring, that his brother did not resent him for trying to kill Izuna, nor for failing to do so. Hashirama’s simple worry for him was soothing. A balm to his fraying edges.
“I know that your battles with Izuna are not like mine with Madara,” Hashirama breathed out over dinner, munching on some rice as he not so sneakily put some more fish on Tobirama’s plate than his own. “I think I get lulled by my own battles… It was close today.”
It would have been over if Tobirama’s attack had struck true. The food suddenly tasted bland.
“I could have ended Izuna’s life today, Anija.”
“I know.” Hashirama looked into his own bowl as if it offered the solution to his problems. “I know. I shouldn’t feel relieved that you pulled your strike, Tobirama. You battle for your life and…” Hashirama’s guilty eyes trailed to Tobirama’s chest, before beseechingly meeting his gaze head-on. “I know that. I wouldn’t ever ask you to hold back when Izuna so clearly does not, not when you are so close in skill. I don’t want to lose you, too.”
Tobirama’s throat felt tight again, his eyes burning a little. He broke their stare. “I don’t doubt your love for me, Anija. I also don’t want to be the person that crushes your dreams. I know what killing Izuna would mean. To you, the Uchiha, and our clan.” And most of all, what it would mean to him. And yet…
“What…” Tobirama hesitated, wet his lips before he continued: “What would you have done if… if I killed Izuna?”
It was a question that had bothered him for years. While Madara and Hashirama had never truly aimed for each other's life – any shinobi worth their name could tell – he and Izuna had never truly held back. They didn’t dare to, knowing what was at stake.
“That’s…” Hashirama looked conflicted. “I don’t think– haaah. Madara would have never let this go. And I can’t blame him, if you died I would raze the person responsible to the ground and bury them so deep that even their remnants won’t return to the circle of life. And, yes. That does include Madara.”
Tobirama blinked, feeling quite stunned as his brother looked at him entirely seriously. As if he hadn’t just proclaimed that he would not only bury his dream, but also go to war in earnest if Tobirama were to die.
“So… I couldn’t fault Madara if he reacted that way. But at the same time I would be glad.” Hashirama looked wretchedly guilty as he admitted that.
“I’d be so glad that you came out alive. I don’t want you to be in danger and Izuna is your worst opponent, the only one that has ever managed to injure you badly or–” Hashirama’s eyes trailed down to Tobirama’s chest. “-land a possibly fatal hit on you. And if killing Izuna means you survive? Tobi… that’s not something I’d ever fault you for.”
Tobirama swallowed, eyes burning as he lowered his gaze to the table. His heart felt full, yet at the same time as if it was bleeding from the sheer honesty in Hashirama’s words and the food suddenly felt appalling.
“Of course,” Hashirama sighed, his hands reaching out to pat Tobirama’s own, that was clutching the chopsticks in a white-knuckled grip. “That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate you holding back either. I know you do your best to survive, I also know you hold back because you try your best to oblige with my unreasonable dreams. But if it comes down to it…”
Tobirama looked at their joined hands. The sight blurred a little, as Hashirama gave his hand a little pat, as if his brother knew that Tobirama’s silence was because he was struggling to express his emotions, he could feel Hashirama’s bubbling chakra straining to reach over and smother him, but his brother knew that overwhelming him was a sure-fire way for Tobirama to retreat. He appreciated that Hashirama could hold himself back sometimes.
Wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand he cleared his throat, looking aside. He felt torn, on one hand wanting to adhere to his brother's wishes and on the other hand feeling as if there was a sword hanging over his head, the strand holding it up fraying with time, swaying in the space between him and Izuna. He felt guilty. He hadn’t stopped his fatal strike because of Hashirama, like his brother thought. No. He fully intended to kill Izuna that day.
He heaved a weary sigh. “Do you truly think the Uchiha will ever accept peace? Do you think our own clan will?” Tobirama thought back to Itama’s words. Who would avenge those that had fallen?
Who would live in spite of them?
And who would need to die to make peace possible?
“Oh, Tobirama,” Hashirama sighed as well, shaking his head. “I want peace, yes, but my dream isn’t only that. More than anything I want you safe.”
The words were like a strike on his battered heart and Tobirama swallowed hard, ducking his head again to hide how affected he was.
“What use is peace if I can’t have you by my side?” Hashirama’s words were soft, as was the hand that reached over to cradle one of Tobirama’s clenched fists, gently extracting the chopsticks from the tight grip, until Tobirama relaxed, giving his brother a tired, drawn smile.
Tobirama wondered if Hashirama could really have both, or if he was destined to only gain half of his dream.
Peace seemed impossible. And if peace could not be attained, then Tobirama had just shot his best chance to kill his worst adversary. Never had Tobirama managed to catch Izuna off-guard with the same technique twice.
And even if he did manage to kill Izuna…
Madara would never agree to stop fighting if the last of his blood lay cold in the ground.
And Izuna… Izuna had ever been close in skill. Someday, what happened during this day would happen again. Only in reverse. And Tobirama doubted that Izuna would hesitate for even a second, not if it meant to rid the world of the scourge of the Uchiha, the White Demon…
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“Tobirama!” Hashirama’s excited voice drew Tobirama out of his dazed, half-asleep state. He groaned, neck twinging as he lifted himself up from the table he had fallen asleep at, seals and calculations spread on paper all around him, ink dried and cracking on his fingertips. He blinked blearily as the door was ripped open so wildly that it was a wonder it didn’t break. “Tobirama!!” Hashirama’s face was flushed from eagerness, the glint in his eyes so happy that he looked like an oversized puppy, along with the flailing falling-over-himself as Hashirama tripped over the threshold, babbling too fast for Tobirama to follow.
“Hold- hold up, Anija. What’s going on?” Twisting in his chair, Tobirama blinked the sleep from his eyes, voice still rough from sleep as he squinted at the paper that Hashirama pushed into his face, way too close to be able to read a single word.
“Peace! ” Hashirama hollered at the top of his lungs and Tobirama winced, glaring at his brother's volume as he snatched the letter from his hands. Apparently, Hashirama not only thought that sticking the letter into his eye would make him read faster, but also shaking it left and right - as if he couldn’t decide which eyeball would be the better choice - would help in that regard. His eyes trailed over the text, once, then twice with a frown as he tried to pick apart the sentences for any traps while Hashirama nearly vibrated out of his skin next to him.
“They… they agreed to negotiations?” Tobirama’s voice sounded utterly baffled, even to his own ears, but Hashirama beamed like Amaterasu incarnate when Tobirama reached the same conclusion as him. There was an unsettled feeling worming its way into his chest, doubt and dread and resignation and maybe, just maybe a smidge of hesitant relief.
“I told you!” Hashirama wailed, happy tears springing to his eyes even as Tobirama watched with mounting dread as the wooden floor twitched underneath Hashirama’s feet, flowers starting to crawl over his previously pristine floor.
“NO! ” Tobirama yelped as he scrambled to his feet to grab his happy-crying brother and drag him out of his sanctuary. “YOU WILL NOT TURN MY ROOM INTO YOUR NEXT VEGETABLE GARDEN!”
Hashirama laughed. Bright and happy as he flung himself at Tobirama, heedless that he toppled them both over and the house shook dangerously with Hashirama’s overabundance of emotions. Tobirama was crushed in another bear-hug, struggling to escape his brother's infectious cheerfulness.
“ANIJA!!”
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Despite the message, and Hashirama was so excited that nearly everyone knew by the time the sun hit the zenith, preparations for the gathering proceeded slowly. In Tobirama’s opinion, that was both good and bad. Good because it spoke of care, but bad because it gave dissenters time to hatch plans. The Elder’s in particular would surely cause trouble. Tobirama was trying to subtly keep an eye on some of the more fanatic warmongers he knew about, most of them in the elder council. He had gone so far as to track their chakra signatures, to be aware if any suspicious movements occurred. No more than two at a time had met, and Tobirama had watched them with cold eyes as they scurried from his view. Snakes, the lot of them.
Hashirama might call him paranoid, but Tobirama didn’t trust the old fools not to cause an incident. The dislike between himself and the Council was well known in the clan and Tobirama had never made a secret of how little he thought of them, much to his brother's dismay, going so far as to even resist any and all attempts Hashirama made to try and mend their relationship.
That bridge was well and truly burned and Tobirama didn’t feel an ounce of regret. He was still Clan Heir, in the unlikely case something happened to Hashirama, and thus still outranked them whether they liked it or not.
It did mean that they disliked him in equal measure, so Tobirama would watch them. And if necessary, he would cull them. There was no love lost between them and Tobirama had only let them live so long as they might still have a purpose. And also because they hadn’t given him a cause he could prove yet, that Hashirama would accept.
It took two months of writing back and forth and stopping his brother from rushing to the Uchiha compound like an overgrown tree log rolling down a hill, but they managed to set up a meeting on neutral grounds, with a representative of the Daimyo as witness.
Hashirama was a bundle of joy and nerves the whole week until the meeting.
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The meeting was held at neutral grounds, at the edge of the Yamanaka and Nara territory. Tents had been put up by the Yamanaka to provide equal supplies for the meeting. It had been a bit of a hassle to get them to agree, but it was better than trying to hold the meeting on any of the old battlefields that would only rile up old memories. The Yamanaka and Nara had provided their lands for the negotiations to take place and a representative of the Daimyo would look over the proceedings.
Sitting across from Madara and Izuna, the elders standing behind their respective clan-heads, Tobirama found this entire meeting quite surreal. His hands felt empty, even when he held the brush to note something of value down in their discussions. Izuna had his arms crossed, eyes narrowed into a suspicious but Sharingan-less glare that was watching his every move. Even though Tobirama knew his opponent, he hadn’t really taken the time to ever look at Izuna’s face, only catching glimpses from the corners of his vision. And yet it felt quite strange when he looked closer - not quite making eye contact - and wasn’t met with an equally red-eyed stare.
Quite honestly, Tobirama wasn’t sure what to think about the peace negotiations. He knew his brother had waited for this to happen since early childhood and part of him was glad that Hashirama would finally get his wish, even partly. Another part of him felt morose, gut clenching uncomfortably, shoulders tense. There was guilt and apprehension, doubt niggling at his mind. His eyes trailed to Hashirama, mouth working, yet he remained silent unless his opinion was warranted. He looked back over the table, shoulders tensing up again before he forced himself to relax. His eyes cut away from Izuna, the person he had tried to kill on the last battlefield, guilt and a feeling of hopelessness overcoming him. Madara was mostly focused on Hashirama, but Tobirama had felt the warm chakra reaching out, curious and wild. Every now and then Madara threw him an indecipherable look.
It was strange. In a way, this was the best Tobirama could hope for, but it didn’t make him happy at all. His mind replayed his recent talks with Hashirama. There were too many words he wanted to voice, but they were tangled, strangling him before he could voice them out loud. Tobirama remained silent. He wanted to laugh and cry.
Peace. It was a concept he had read about a lot, since his brother was so insistent, something like a far off, distant dream. He had not thought it possible, wasn’t even sure what had changed the Uchiha’s mind to even agree to the negotiations all of a sudden. It felt like a trap, like his end was inevitable if he agreed, but also if he didn’t. But, Tobirama thought, at least it would be his choice. Tobirama’s eyes cut to the side, eyeing the elders in contemplation before he was addressed with another question and concentrated on the topic at hand.
Their discussion of today's meeting was slowly coming to an end. So far it looked promising. Neither clan was overstepping their boundaries, careful not to incite anger, but they brought valid thoughts and suggestions to the table. Trades, skills, exchange, mission relegation, cohabitation, rules, laws, beliefs, and so on. Every topic was carefully touched on. They had a rule to listen to the other party to the end before explaining their own standpoint, then discussing the points that seemed to overlap or oppose each other until a compromise was found. It was tedious, and the elders were not making it easier either. Neither the ones of the Senju, nor the ones on the Uchiha side. If not for the presence of the clan heads, the older generation would have likely started a brawl and another war. Fools, the lot of them.
Just as Tobirama thought the meeting was coming to an end, one of the Senju Elders cleared his throat. To Tobirama, it was a sound from hell, making his gut clench in anticipation of something unpleasant. His head snapped to the side, eyes glaring at the Elder over Hashirama’s shoulder, but in the end it did nothing to keep the most influential Senju Elder silent. Hashirama gave a wary glance, but nodded his assent for him to speak up.
“We do not think that a mere agreement on paper will be enough for lasting peace.” Saruhiko, Tobirama’s least favourite elder proclaimed, head raised high with a barely concealed sneer. “Thus we elders have agreed that to tighten the bond between the Senju and Uchiha, a more… formal tradition will be warranted.”
Tobirama felt dread as the Elder smirked, an eager look thrown in his direction. At the head of the table, Tobirama could see the representative of the Daimyo perk up in interest at the suggestion.
“Tobirama-sama is the esteemed younger brother of our Clan Head, but he has yet to marry.” Saruhiko’s voice was smooth and gentle, a croon that set his blood to boiling. Tobirama could feel the way his whole body tensed, lips twitching as he concealed the snarl that wanted to break out and he kept himself still in his seat, gaze burning upon his elder. That sly snake, Tobirama wanted to grab him and-
Hashirama’s hand landed on his shoulder, concerned eyes blocking his vision and Tobirama took a deep breath, then another. To spring this on them-! He knew what the Elders planned. Either way, Tobirama was going to hell. If he protested like he wanted to, even if it was simply to spite the elders, then the Uchiha would take it as an insult even if Tobirama didn’t mean it that way. The elders were probably banking on his protest and if not, then they were counting on his reputation, that a marriage between him and an Uchiha would cause a rift, would maybe even cause them to kill one another. That the Uchiha had no female member of high enough standing was something else they would try to latch onto. Or they would try to harm Tobirama’s spouse, breaking the fragile trust they were trying to build. The anger burned like one of Madara’s worst katon jutsu and Tobirama pressed the tips of his fingers hard into his own crossed upper arms to try and contain his reaction, desperate to keep his chakra under control lest it was taken as an attack on the Uchiha.
“Tobirama.” Hashirama’s voice was gentle, his eyes concerned. Tobirama took another deep breath, his throat constricting as he tried to speak and Tobirama winced as a headache stabbed through his brain, ground his teeth, and settled for another glare over his brother’s shoulder. He tasted copper.
“This was rather sudden.” Hashirama cut a disapproving glare at their elders and an apologetic one at the Uchiha. “We will end things here to discuss this further.”
“It is fine.” Tobirama bit out, still agitated and furious at being backed into a corner, but his gaze trailed to Izuna’s, then over to Madara sitting across the table. “If marriage is what it takes to… reassure the elders and our clans, then I am willing. Provided the Uchiha agree and find an appropriate match.”
He tried . He really, really tried to keep his composure, even though it felt like acid burning his throat to comply with the will of the elders yet again. Peace and Hashirama’s happiness was his choice, not whatever the elders were cocoting in hopes of inciting the war once more.
Hashirama’s hand tightened like a shackle on his arm. Maybe because Tobirama looked less than pleased and more feral as he agreed, words so cold and sharp that one could probably be cut on them, but this once Tobirama could not find it in him to mask his emotions completely. In fact, he could barely keep a lash on the chakra that was trying to escape his control in his maddening rage. It took all his will to not simply rip out the blood of his enemies, and he was not speaking about the Uchiha this time.
At the end of the table, Tobirama could feel the Daimyo representative’s eager agreement. It felt like he had been put on a leash, soon to be dragged by the will of others. It galled. He stood quietly, biting at the inside of his cheek in frustration as Hashirama quickly ended the meeting, his brother's arm curling around him as they left.
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“This… was not what I expected.” Izuna said to Madara once they had retreated into the tents the Uchiha had set up for this occasion. “Marriage? Like, who would want to marry him of all people,” Izuna groused, and Madara gave a sigh at the childish petulance his brother radiated.
“It’s not like we have much of a choice either. If we refuse this offer - a generous one at that - it could be viewed as an insult to the Senju at best, worst it would come across as us not trusting in the alliance. The representative of the Daimyo seemed to be in favour of a union.”
Izuna made a face, grumbling.
“You saw his reaction,” Izuna frowned. “It was unlike him. He was furious . Did you see him?! I have never seen him lose control that much, and really, how are we supposed to find someone willing to marry him when he looked like he wanted to kill just at the mere mention of marriage?” Maybe Izuna was slightly miffed that he had never managed to elicit such a strong reaction from Tobirama during their battles, but marriage was an entirely other matter, private and intimate. It was no wonder that even the usually cool-tempered Senju would react at being thrown to the wolves.
“Worse than that…” Madara mused, mind already spinning in a direction he both liked and disliked. “Is that we would have to find someone of at least equal standing, to not belittle the offer.”
Izuna groaned, letting his head fall back.
“Noooooo.”
“Brother dearest, do you by chance fancy your life-long nemesis?” Madara asked with fake sweetness, a grin stretching over his face as Izuna reddened and he glared back at him. It was a bit of a running joke that Izuna was obsessed with Tobirama, though Madara was entirely aware that it was more because of Tobirama’s skills which were driving Izuna up the wall. Especially the seemingly impossible jutsu that the white-haired menace seemed to pull out of his sleeve like a magician at a festival. It was hilarious whenever it happened, if it wasn’t equally terrifying, and Izuna’s indignant flailing, long-winded explanations of their fights and incredulous outrage over the fact that Tobirama refused to be bested by his prowess could be taken as a teenager's pig-tail pulling of his love interest.
Once Hikaku had pointed that out in a painfully droll voice, nobody had let Izuna forget it, even if the boy of sixteen back then had lost all colour at the mere hint of romantic interest between himself and his Senju opponent.
“I don’t!” The angry redness on Izuna’s face turned pallid rapidly. “Wait, you don’t want me to marry him, right?”
Madara raised an eyebrow. “Why, I mean your standing is equal. It would be a match made in heaven.”
“If heaven is painted in blood, fire, and wrecked by a tsunami I would agree.” Izuna squinted suspiciously at Madara “You did want peace right?” He asked, and Madara nearly couldn’t contain the choked laugh, shoulders shaking with mirth.
“Yes. Yes, I do.” Shaking his head with a small grin he settled on the chair they had brought with them. His and Izuna’s tent was big enough for that and a table, aside from their sleeping rolls. If only so Madara could continue to work on his clan duties, whatever there was that couldn’t be handled by Hikaku in his stead back at the compound at least.
“If we send someone of lower standing, it would mean them marrying into the Senju.” Izuna grumbled. “And the elders would never allow for one of Amaterasu’s daughters to spread our lineage to the enemy.”
Madara heaved as sigh. That was true. “We don’t have a female of high enough standing to have Tobirama marry into our clan though.” And that was the issue. They didn’t even know if Tobirama would prefer a male or female.
“Let’s… prepare a list of candidates at least.” Rubbing his forehead, Madara felt a headache coming. He had not seen this coming, even though maybe he should have. Their own Elders were apparently just as much of a hassle as the ones of the Senju.
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Even with Hashirama voicing his anger at the Elders’ interference, it was too late. Not only had they suggested this farce of a marriage, one that left Tobirama feeling sick and a little feverish from stress he was unable to put into words, but Tobirama had already agreed. He wanted to curse their elders, but that was not really something new. Once they had spoken up about a possible marriage in front of the representative of the Daimyo, it had essentially been inevitable.
He didn’t regret his choice. With all things considered, it was the best choice he could make right now, not only for the clan - unwilling as some of them might be - but also for Hashirama’s happiness.
“If you don’t want this, Tobirama…” Hashirama muttered while pacing their tent. “Then we will find another way.”
Tobirama had laid down on his sleeping bag, eyes closed to try and lessen the headache that was pounding away in his head. He cracked an eye open to glare at Hashirama before slowly sitting up to face his brother.
“As if,” He scoffed. He still felt like he was suffocating, grinding his teeth in frustration before letting out a weary sigh, shoulders curling forward as he leaned on his elbows that he had resting on his knees and let his head drop in resignation. “This was the easiest and fastest way, they are not wrong in that. A union between our clans would be something tangible and would also show that cohabitation is possible.” Even though he was sure that was not what the Elders had in mind, when they had suggested marriage.
“I don’t care about that!” Hashirama’s voice shook, impossibly loud within the confined space of the tent, so much so that Tobirama raised his head to glare at him. Hashirama stood in the middle of the tent, hands balled into tight fists, his knuckles white from the force and visibly agitated as he swept one of them through his long hair, brushing it back in a rare bout of irritation, even as he lowered his voice. “I told you I don’t want peace at the cost of you!”
“But we would have peace.” Tobirama muttered quietly. He was as tired of the war as the rest of them, even if making peace with the Uchiha also felt like a death-sentence. Marriage…
Tobirama shook his head, feeling utterly defeated. “If this is what it takes… I don’t mind, Hashirama. Whoever the Uchiha pick, I will agree to marry them and treat them well.” If it would cement Hashirama’s dream, all the better. The faster they stopped slaughtering each other, the better and Tobirama was willing to do a lot to give Hashirama peace and the ability to enjoy it with his estranged friend.
“But-” Hashirama was still standing in the middle of their tent, shoulders hunching up to his ears and now, Tobirama noted with alarm, his voice had turned wobbly with tears.
“I didn’t want it to be at the cost of your happiness ,” Hashirama choked out, mouth a quivering line. “I want you safe and happy.”
Sitting up properly, Tobirama beckoned Hashirama over and once close enough, dragged his brother into a tight hug. For once, Hashirama seemed small as he huddled into his arms, shaking like a leaf in the wind like he had sometimes in their youth, when he had first been confronted with the violence and inevitable death the shinobi life brought.
“I don’t mind,” Tobirama tried to assure him softly, his hand threading through the long hair on Hashirama’s back. This was why he wanted peace. So that Hashirama would have something to treasure and hold onto, even if something happened to Tobirama. “I can find happiness in little things, you know that.”
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The next meeting, Tobirama was calm. He could feel the smugness in Saruhiko’s chakra, but more than that, he could feel the nervous energy from the Uchiha. The Uchiha Elders in particular seemed reluctant, but… not exactly content, but more dismissive as they sneered in his direction.
Madara had a slip of paper in his hand. A list that he laid on the table and slid closer towards them, but prevented Hashirama from taking it. His hand was still putting firm pressure on it, stopping them from picking it up, his gaze heavy and inscrutable. Next to Izuna was a stack of folders, most likely short profiles of the people that had agreed to the marriage. There were more than Tobirama expected, considering his reputation. Less though, if it has been anyone but the White Demon being offered for marriage. That didn’t surprise him.
“These are the Uchiha of marriageable age that have agreed to a union with Senju-san.” Madara said, looking first at Hashirama, but then turning to look at Tobirama. It was more habit that made Tobirama look just a little below, avoiding the direct gaze as he returned the attention, keeping his features blank as he could. He was fine. Whatever decision would come of this, he could work with.
“Before you look through it, I have another offer to make,” Madara said, eyes never wavering and Tobirama could feel the alarm and unrest from the Uchiha Elders as Madara obviously differed from the intended script they had agreed on.
“If Senju-san is willing, I would offer him my hand in marriage.”
Tobirama stiffened in his seat, eyes widening in disbelief. It was enough to almost make him lose his composure, but the Uchiha Elders did so first. Utter chaos broke out as they started to protest, but Madara didn’t even deign them a look. Izuna didn’t look surprised, either.
He was serious. Tobirama could feel it in his chakra, the determination and… dare he say it, hope?
His brother was gaping at Madara, but Tobirama’s thoughts were already racing ahead. He had thought that he would have to marry below his station. That he would have to protect his spouse against his own clan, fend off attempts at their life, and try to broker peace with someone distrusting and reluctant to work with the White Demon.
Madara, though…
It would mean marrying out. Meant that the threats would come for Tobirama and Tobirama alone. This meant that his spouse would be able to fight for himself, if anyone was stupid enough to try something against the strongest Uchiha.
And if Madara was serious, not only about peace but also this marriage, it meant that maybe, just maybe, he would gain the strongest support he could have asked for. Even if they would never like each other, if they could just manage to work together…
“I accept your proposal, Uchiha-sama.”
Tobirama let himself relax, leaning back into his chair as he felt the elation in Madara’s chakra spike with his agreement. This was a much better outcome than he had ever dared hope for, even if it meant putting his life in Uchiha Madara’s hands, the one man that could easily kill him.
It didn’t matter. Tobirama would not be the first one to break the peace and if his brother’s tales were true, Madara was a good man. Time would tell if he was a great one.
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“Are you really, really sure about this?” Hashirama asked once he calmed down, his arm curling around Tobirama’s back. For once Tobirama let him, soaking up his brother’s presence just as much as Hashirama needed this closeness.
“Of course not,” Tobirama scoffed, wincing when Hashirama’s fingers dug into his arm almost painfully, the chakra churning with protectiveness next to him. “But it’s the best option we have.” Tobirama deflated. “Me marrying Madara is by far better than all other options.”
Hashirama ground his teeth, visibly trying to contain himself with a frown marring his face.
“We could still find another way.”
“Will we?” Tobirama asked, carefully looking up and holding Hashirama’s conflicted gaze. “And how long will it take, if we don’t grab this chance? A year? Two? How many more will have to die, what if it leads to conflict that can’t be stopped again?” What if one of them died? Or what if Tobirama killed one of the Uchiha siblings, preventing peace from ever happening? What then?
“No,” Tobirama said, narrowing his eyes. “Enough is enough. This is your dream come true. If I can help, I will.”
Hashirama sighed, heavy and weary. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The village was supposed to be your safe haven as well, a place you can lower your guard and be yourself. Find friends to connect to. Find a lover.” Hashirama sounded so sad, that Tobirama wouldn’t have the freedom he had imagined. “I… I wanted you to be free from burden for once in your life.”
“I never cared for that,” Tobirama murmured truthfully. “And I never could imagine this peace you are talking about. But… I do want to see it.” Hashirama’s hand gently squeezed his shoulder at the hesitant admittance. “A village…” Tobirama tried to imagine it, Senju and Uchiha mingling, without raising their weapons, without bloodshed. He tried to imagine himself in this imaginary, dream-like place and… couldn’t. His head lowered and he let his forehead rest against Hashirama’s shoulder, to hide his unease.
“You said Madara is a good man,” Tobirama whispered. “He will be able to defend himself, as will I. This union is fragile. It is better that two strong people fill this duty and at least Madara has wanted this peace for as long as you have.” Even if he had denied it for the longest time. Tobirama would trust in this. That in regards to peace, Madara had longed for it just as much as his brother and would do his utmost to uphold it, if only for Izuna’s sake.
“It will be fine.” A strong, warm hand settled against the back of his head and Tobirama felt his eyes burn, determination flaring hotter than any jutsu the Uchiha could come up with. He let the determination fill every space, push out the doubts and thoughts that niggled at the back of his mind and spelled disaster.
“I will make your dream come true if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Tobi!” Hashirama complained, his hand squeezing his shoulder. “Don’t say that. We will have peace and once we settle… you will find joy. I am sorry about the Elders and their scheme. I really didn’t know. But I know that Madara will treat you well. And besides! It’s only going to be for a short while. All the more reason to get this village up and running, ne?”
Tobirama huffed an amused breath before detangling himself from his last family.
“No time to waste.” He scowled at his pouting brother. “We better start planning this wedding now. And there is so much to consider if you want to build a village from the ground up. Chop, chop.” Really. They had no time to sit around when there was so much to do. They had limited time together now, before Tobirama would be whisked away to their hopefully former enemies. He would use every moment to make sure that Hashirama had all the tools available to him once Tobirama would have to leave his side.