Hashirama walked alongside the long line of carriages he and his brothers were protecting. He, his brothers, and Madara.
How long had it been since the two of them had a chance to talk? Sure, they managed to squeeze in a few words whenever they met on the battlefield, but those exchanges were shallow and left him wanting. What he craved were the long, unhurried conversations of their childhood. There was no one in his clan who understood him the way Madara did; no one who took the time to actually listen to what he had to say instead of brushing him off as an addlebrained idealist. Now, thanks to a merchant's mistake, he finally had the chance to relive the most carefree days of his life.
Or, he would, as soon as he managed to pin Madara down. If he didn't know better, he'd think his old friend was avoiding him...
The snow barely gave way under his weight as he shunshined to another part of the caravan. The youngest of the Uchiha brothers was seated on top of a carriage, legs crossed and back slouched. To the untrained eye, he looked rather bored. Hashirama knew better though. There was a tension in his limbs that meant he was ready to leap into action at any moment. His brown eyes were unfocused, but that likely meant he was using some other sense to monitor the surrounding forest. Even his placement on the roof of the carriage gave him a vital advantage against any landbound enemies they might encounter. The boy's apparent nonchalance was in fact a logical ruse.
Not unlike like Hashirama's.
As if sensing eyes on him, Madara's youngest sibling turned his gaze lazily to Hashirama. He raised an eyebrow at him before tilting his head, gesturing with his chin. Hashirama looked where he pointed and quickly threw a smile up at his helper in thanks.
"Madara," he exclaimed as he rushed to place a hand on the shorter man's shoulder, trapping him. "So this is where you were."
The Uchiha grimaced, but didn't pull away from Hashirama's touch. That was a good sign.
"What are you doing?" He demanded.
Hashirama kept his smile plastered on his face even in the face of Madara's hostility. Tobirama often reacted the same way, but that didn't negate the affection between them. "Madara, I was looking for you. This is a great chance to work together, for once. Aren't you excited?"
The sneer on his friend's face was completely unexpected.
"Can you be serious for once in your life? We aren't children anymore, Hashirama."
He let his smile drop. Alright, so maybe falling back on their childhood dynamic was a mistake. They hadn't had a proper conversation since that last time at the river, after all. As much as he wanted to go back to those days, time travel was impossible. They were different people now. Men, not boys.
"I know that."
"Do you?" Madara's dark eyes held no warmth as he glared at Hashirama. "You certainly don't act like it. What do you expect to come of a friendship between us? What end could there possibly be?"
Hashirama had an answer, but he waited a moment before sharing it. Madara's questions weren't baseless and the fervor with which he asked them only proved how important their relationship really was to him. If Hashirama answered immediately, then his words, no matter how heartfelt, would be dismissed. It happened often enough with Tobirama—the irony of that comparison was not lost on him—and he put on a show of considering his answer before speaking.
"Peace." It was the same answer he'd always had. "I'm tired of fighting you, Madara. I want to be able to have a conversation with my friend without have to look over my shoulder. I don't want to have my life revolve around violence, to always be looking over my shoulder. If our families can set aside their animosity, others will see that it really is possible. We can be the ones to usher in a new era for shinobi, together." He reached out with an open hand, expression hopeful. "Don't you want that, too?"
For a moment, Hashirama really thought Madara would take his hand. Then he sighed and Hashirama knew he'd failed. Again.
"Hashirama," Madara said with considerably less bite. "I wish it was possible. I really do. Those days with you are among the best of my life, but this isn't about me." He tilted his head back, snowflakes catching on his ark eyelashes. "My dreams don't matter, anymore. If they ever did." His gaze was sad and unfocused. Then, his jaw clenched tightly. "I refuse to be put in a position where I must choose between my clan and anything else—or anyone."
Hashirama didn't try to stop him as he walked away. How many times had he watched this exact scene? His hand outstretched toward Madara's proud back.
Snow fell into his open palm, melting against his calloused skin. That could have gone better, but it also could have been worse. No blades were drawn this time and Madara's eyes remained black, so that was an encouraging sign, right?
"Wow~, that was a shit show."
He looked up at the littles Uchiha where he lay stretched out across the top of the carriage. What was his name, again? Kyou? Was it Kyou? He didn't look much like either of his brothers, but the way he was looking down at Hashirama, the arrogance and disdain in his dark eyes, was something all Uchiha seemed to share.
"What did you expect to happen," the boy continued with a shake of his head, long, inky black hair falling over his shoulders. "Did you think he would just leap into your arms and you would run off together into the sunset?"
Hashirama closed his extended hand and brought it back to his side. "Are you mocking me?"
"Yes."
He laughed despite himself, the smile on his face just soft enough to be friendly. Kyou—if that was his name—returned it with a sneer that tugged oddly at the scar bisecting his lips. Hashirama jumped up and joined him on the roof of the carriage, folding his legs comfortably beneath him.
"What do you think of peace, then? Do you also think it's a childhood dream?"
Kyou shrugged. "I was a little busy trying to live everyday. Dreams are a luxury us cannon fodder can't afford."
Cannon...? That was a new term for him, but it didn't take much thinking to figure it out. "Don't you think peace would have made that easier?"
"I dunno. Is peace edible?"
Hashirama's rebuttals died on his tongue. "What?"
Kyou's smile was not a kind expression. "Peace. Can you eat it? You do realize that we get paid to fight each other, right? One old fat guy in a castle hires us and his enemy hires you and bing bang boom! We're at war, again. It's not like we're going out of our way to fight. I'm sure there are oodles of people back home who would be happy to let bygones be bygones, if only they didn't have kids to feed. Now, I'm sure your pretty little Mokuton makes agriculture easy, so maybe this isn't something you need to think about as the future clan Head, but it is for Madara. How many missions do we need to take to purchase enough rice for the winter? How many battles can we afford to avoid? How many do we have to fight, or risk starving? How many need to be against the Senju, and how many other clans can we afford to make our enemies?" Kyou leaned in, brown eyes—so different from the usual black—focused and angry. "These are questions Madara has to ask himself every time he makes a decision. If we stop fighting, we lose a serious source of income. Unless you have a plan to make up the deficit, I'd keep talks of peace to a minimum around him."
He opened his mouth to say that, yes, he did know that fighting was a shinobi's primary source of employment—the Senju were shinobi, too, after all—and that, no, the Mokuton wasn't used for agriculture, who would do that, but the cocksure grin on Kyou's face had him hesitating. The younger ninja saw that show of weakness and pounced.
"Besides," he drawled. "It's not like the Senju have been all that serious about peace, either. How many of my little cousins have you killed, Mr. Children Should Live in Peace-san? I spared your little brother's life—several times, might I add—but what about my father? Hmm? Seems like our side has had our overtures rebuffed more often than yours."
"Tajima is alive."
Kyou's laughter was high pitched and oddly manic. "I'm not Madara's sibling, I'm his cousin. Thank you ever so much for orphaning me, Senju-san."
That explained the lack of resemblance, at least.
"I'm sorry."
"No, you're not." The blunt words caught Hashirama off guard. "Oh, I'm sure you're sorry that it's made your argument harder to prove, but don't pretend you care. If you actually wanted peace, you'd be looking for your own alternative sources of income instead of taking every job that sends you our way. Words are worthless, Hashirama. Madara knows this, and so do I."
The air between them was fraught with tension and the civilians were starting to whisper among themselves. Hashirama bit his tongue to keep from arguing further, turning away from the infuriating teenager. There was...sense in what he said. It wasn't Hashirama's fault, though! There was only so much he could do without taking his father's place as clan Head. His words had weight, sure, but not enough to actually enact change.
Not as much as it seemed Madara's did.
Kyou yawned and stood with a languid stretch. "Well, that's all the free advice I have in me today. If you want any more, I'll have to charge you."
He shunshined away with a swirl of snow and Hashirama laughed lowly to himself. What a precocious child. Not unlike Tobi, at that age. More talkative, but just as bitter. He sighed and looked up at the cloudy sky. He wasn't serious, huh?
😈😈😈
The caravan stopped hours before nightfall. It was necessary, given how long it took to set up camp, care for the horses, and distribute meals. People laughed and conversed freely, as if they weren't in the middle of disputed territory. Tobirama scowled. Didn't they know sound carried further in winter? The forest was bare, with no living greenery or foliage to dampen the sound of their chatter. If there were any enemies out there, they now knew exactly how that one man felt about his friend courting his sister.
Not that there were any enemies nearby. Tobirama leaned against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed as he pushed his chakra outward. He ignored the rush of emotions coming from the caravan and focused on the farthest edges of his range. Aside from the expected animals, there was nothing.
Good. This mission was tense enough without throwing combat into the mix. Every time he felt one of the Uchihas' chakra signatures, his hackles rose and his hands itched for a weapon. He was sure they felt the same way, if the tension he sensed in their chakra was any indication.
Well, in Madara and Izuna's. Kyou, the little anomaly, was completely unperturbed by the unexpected turn of events. In fact, he was willing to bet she was amused by it all. He could feel her chakra tickling at his senses as he pulled them back to himself. She was heading his direction, because of course she was. She was as bad as Hashirama, the both of them practically vibrating with excitement at the chance to speak with their forbidden friends of choice.
He scowled. Did that make him the Madara in their relationship? That didn't sound right.
"Hey, Tobi." He opened his eyes to glare at Kyou as she walked over to him. Her long dark hair was gathered at the nape of her neck, but he knew from experience that it would soon escape and cascade down her back like a river of ink. She wore less armor than her kinsmen, leaving most of her torso exposed. If he wanted to, he could run her through with little resistance. She smiled, the expression lopsided as she tried not to pull at her scar. "Sense any baddies?'
He didn't roll his eyes, but it was a near thing. "No. For now, at least, the surrounding forest is clear."
"Boo," she pouted. "That's no fun."
"We're not here to have fun."
"You're not," she corrected with a huff as she sank to the ground beside him, arm brushing against his leg as she leaned against the tree. "I, on the other hand."
He snorted. "It almost sounds like you want to be attacked."
He felt her body move as she looked up at him. "Well, yeah, a little. I mean, come one. When are we ever gonna get a chance to fight on the same side, again? Don't you want to see what we can do?" She punched the air and her chakra rippled with excitement and curiosity. "The world's scariest water monsters, side by side at last!"
He was loath to admit it, the thought was attractive. There were a myriad of interesting techniques she'd described but never shown him—not even in combat—that he was itching to try and figure out. She knew it, too, based on the playful jumping of her chakra. He and Kyou usually spent the winter months discussing jutsus and the intricacies of chakra and its applications, though it was harder to slip away to the river now that he had more responsibilities within the clan. All that meant was he had more time to ruminate on the things she said—and she had more time to come up with outlandishly appealing ideas.
"If the opportunity arises," he said evenly. "I would relish the chance."
He was acutely aware of the way her chakra curled in on itself, trying to stifle the happiness his words caused. He politely looked away and watched the merchants try to make camp. It was...more than a little pathetic. Not only were they loud, but they moved as though wading through molasses. They kept stopping to hold unnecessary conversations, wasting valuable daylight instead of getting their tasks done as quickly as possible.
Kyou sighed. "Must be nice."
He understood her longing tone. Only a life where time was not a luxury could result in people like this. They could take their time setting up camp because they didn't have to rush and establish the perimeter, set up traps, or lie in ambush. It was a life so very different from his own.
"You two don't look like enemies."
He and Kyou turned to look at the civilian together and the boy child flinched. Though Tobirama called him that, in truth he was likely only a year or two younger than him, closer to Kyou's age. It took Tobirama less than a second to pick him out as different from the rest. His clothing, though made from the same materials as everyone else's, was clean, meaning he hadn't even been out in the snow before now, and ill fitting, meaning they were likely borrowed. His hands bore calligraphers' callouses, not laborers', and his honey colored skin was clean and unblemished. His black hair was healthy and clearly longer than his hairstyle suggested. Tobirama had to hold in a sigh. To think he would encounter a fabled 'young lord in disguise'.
"What, would you rather we fight to the death and take the lot of you with us?" Kyou undoubtedly noticed the same things he did, but didn't care to temper her tone to suit the boy. She shook her head and leaned against Tobirama's thigh, patting him with uncomfortable familiarity. "Tobi and I have been fighting for so long, kid, we're practically brothers."
For some reason, that put a sour taste in his mouth. Kyou looked up at him, hair catching on his armor and coming predictably loose from its ties. She smiled at him, not minding her scar at all this time, and he rolled his eyes.
"I thought the Senju and Uchiha were bitter rivals," the boy continued. He stepped closer, entering the range of both shinobi's weapons. They could kill him so easily. "You guys are always at war, right?"
Tobirama saw no point in humoring the child and turned his attention back to the camp. Kyou, as ever, thought differently.
"Sounds like you know a lot about us. Makes me wonder why you made your men hire us both, then, Young Master."
Tobirama felt the civilian's pitiful chakra stores rise up in surprise and embarrassment. "W-what are you talking about?"
Kyou's snort shook his leg. "Come on, kid. Who do you think you're fooling? You don't even have mud on your shoes."
Well, what a surprise. She was being merciful. Tobirama glanced at the boy again, taking in the red flush that spread across his face. That was all he could really discern from that distance and he had no intention of letting him get any closer. Kyou shifted her weight and leaned away from him, her chakra swirling like a cat around a mouse. His leg felt cold.
"I'm genuinely curious what you expected to happen, Young Master," she said with a gentler tone than she'd ever used with Tobirama, even when they were children. "Is hiring enemy clans a fad among the nobility these days? You do know that's dangerous, right? Not everyone is as willing to set aside their differences as we are."
That was true. If this boy really was the one who'd actually hired them, then he was extremely lucky. If their clans had sent any other teams than the ones they had, there would have been blood. The odds of their two teams coming together for a mission were staggeringly low. It was almost impressive.
"Honestly," Kyou continued as she stood, grabbing onto Tobirama's elbow for support. She didn't let go. "You're really lucky we get along, kid. Anyone else, and you'd be dead."
The boy was silent for a moment, his chakra still and unworthy of attention. "Are you lovers?"
Tobirama turned to glare at him, lip curling. Kyou didn't pull away from him, but her hand was stiff on his arm and her chakra...
"Are you an idiot?" The boy took a step back at the sound of Tobirama's voice, fear rolling off him in waves. "Or do you have some kind of death wish? Either would explain the nonsense that just came out of your mouth. Or both."
His vision wasn't good enough to make out the finer points of the boy's expression, but he could sense all the turmoil churning in his chakra. He watched the boy back away slowly before turning and all but running for his life. Kyou's chakra was still...
He looked down at her. They were close enough that he could make out the individual snowflakes on her long dark eyelashes. She wasn't looking at him, but her chakra was reaching out toward him—for comfort? for attention?—the way it sometimes did by the river. Her scar moved as she bit at her lip and she glanced up at him from under finely arched brows. Her brown eyes were as sad as her chakra as she stepped away from him.
"I need to make some tea."
As an excuse, it was rather weak. He could feel her churning chakra as she fled—from him? from them? not that there was a them—and he sighed. This mission was way too complicated.
😈😈😈
It was snowing again. Under normal circumstances, that meant delays and all sorts of repairs to the civilian wagons, but not this time. This time, there were Uchihas around.
Itama had no idea a fireball could be so useful. He was more accustomed to cursing the damned technique as it was aimed at him than thanking Izuna for clearing a road with it. How useful! The merchants certainly agreed, offering the firebreathers a place to rest inside their carriages—something Kyou took immediate advantage of, despite his lack of fire chakra. Not that Itama was any better.
Who could blame him though? When else would he get a chance to talk with his old friend without his brothers breathing down his neck? Hashirama already had a conversation with the littlest Uchiha, and Tobi tended to monopolize him both in and out of combat. It was Itama's turn!
Kyou raised an eyebrow at him over a cup of tea, but didn't otherwise comment when Itama joined him in the carriage. It was so warm compared to the winter world outside. They sat in silence, neither of them taking the leap to start a conversation. Itama fidgeted uncomfortably. Was he really not going to say anything? He always had something to say when they were kids. Even on the battlefield, he was always chatting away with Tobirama, smiling like he didn't have a care in the world. Honestly, Kyou should be fighting him, not his older brother. It made more sense that way. Izuna was mean. It was a stupid thing to be hung up on, given the relationship between their clans, but their siblings seemed to get along fine despite it.
Was it wrong to be jealous?
It was probably wrong to be jealous. The relationships between his siblings and their rivals weren't normal, by any means. Still, he couldn't help wanting something similar. Did that make him selfish?
He inhaled to sigh and choked on a familiar scent. Kyou watched his coughing fit but didn't offer him any tea. He couldn't complain, though. It wasn't something meant for men like him.
Quite suddenly, he found himself reexamining everything he thought he knew about his old friend. As far as he could tell, Kyou had never let anything slip that might indicate hi—her?—true gender—sex?—but the more Itama thought about it, the more it made a strange kind of sense. There was a feral quality to Kyou, an animosity that Itama had only ever seen in his cousin Touka; someone who'd fought tooth and nail for the right to fight on the frontlines alongside the men of their clan. But...Kyou had always fought with the men. Ever since they were too small for such things to really matter. Well, they still didn't, not really. Kyou and Touka were so strong, he didn't understand why anyone would have a problem with them fighting.
"So?"
He jumped in his seat and Kyou smiled, the expression twisted and not at all happy. "So what?"
"So," h—she!—continued with a snide drawl. "What do you want? I sincerely doubt you came in here to stare at my pretty face."
Itama cocked his head, considering more than just his next words. The Kyou in his memories was always angry and spitting fire. Looking at her now—and knowing what he did—he recognized her defensive bluff for what it was. There was no way the little kid who told him it was ok to cry after his brother's death was really this mean.
Maybe Izuna wasn't, either.
...Nah.
"Are you a girl or a boy?"
Kyou's brown eyes widened and she—he?—sighed and set down the tea cup. "Does it matter?"
Not really no. Not to Itama. A realization struck him like lightning and a wide grin slowly spread across his face. "Well, I just wanted to know if I'm going to have a brother-in-law or a sister-in-law when Tobi finally pulls the stick out of his ass."
The mottled blush that spread across Kyou's face was quickly hidden behind the prudishly high collar all Uchiha's wore.
"Shut up," Kyou hissed. "What if he hears you!"
Hohoho~! Itama's time had come. All his years as the youngest sibling finally came to bear. "I knew it! I knew there was something there! That's why he refuses to share you!" He crossed his arms over his chest the way Tobirama sometimes did, nodding to himself. "It all makes sense now. Tobi would never steal my friend, but sharing his woman? Not likely."
Kyou shushed him frantically, even going so far as to reach across the small carriage space to try and shut him up manually. "Stop it! Itama!"
He laughed at her expense before sobering slightly. "Seriously, though. Which do you prefer? I don't want to call you the wrong thing."
The look that earned him was...hard to decipher. "I've always lived as a boy."
"But you aren't one?"
Kyou hesitated but ultimately shook her head. Right. That mystery was solved now. He smiled lopsidedly at her, insides a mess. On the one hand, teasing her was hilarious. He finally had something to hold over her! But, on the other...this wasn't something he could talk about freely. If it was, she wouldn't have put so much effort into hiding herself.
"I'm sorry," he said after a long moment. "But I'm glad I know now. I...was feeling a little left out." He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.
"Really? After what I did to you?" She shook her head, long dark hair framing her face in a way that made her look almost pretty. "I figured you'd want nothing to do with me."
"What? Why?"
"You've avoided me ever since."
Itama shook his head in adamant refusal. "No. I wanted to see you! It was Tobirama who wouldn't share!"
She curled her lip at him, but the blush on her face belied her show of anger. "Shut up!"
He would. For now.