Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He had to blink awake from his daze. How long had he been staring? And at what?

After easily dodging a kunai, he understood he was still on a mission. Though it didn’t make sense, he swore he died or was that just a dream. Or, maybe worse, his time-space jutsu worked but he was still not out of danger.

He wanted to make his first priority returning to the village or finding his students to make sure they all got away safely. But…

He didn’t plan on surviving the Gold and Silver brothers, he planned on going to the Pure Lands. And if he saw the opportunity to see his brothers again while also sure that the village was in good hands and took it without hesitation, well, that was his business.

And yet, he is here. Very much alive and in danger, although from an enemy nin he didn’t recognise. Who the hell was he fighting?

And then something hit him. A smell. A strong smell. It was sort of fragrant, yet musky. It almost resembled what chakra sensory could provide, but less muted and he could feel the scent when he inhaled as it had a sort of thickness in the air. This was … new.

Tobirama molded his chakra and then flared it, and he snapped his eyes open in shock. There was a battlefield as well as a battle raging on. But the worst part wasn’t even that, there was the fact that he had recognised every single signature. As most of them should have been dead. Especially the one that he could feel was entirely focused on him. He would know, he had killed them himself.

“Senju! Get down here and fight me you bastard!” Izuna howled from the ground to where Tobirama was perched in a tree.

…No. This was not real.

Tobirama, still stiff in shock, had starred in both bafflement, horror, and awe. This had to be … well something. A very convincing genjutsu, or a lucid dream, or even a very strong hallucination. Anything at all but real. Because if this was real, and he really traveled back in time, then might have just broken the jutsu system. Again.

He could also feel his brother’s signature, and it felt surreal. His Anija’s clashed with Madara’s on the battlefield east from where he and Izuna were supposedly battling. Their chakra was blindly and overwhelming, but rather manageable from this distance. And…

His hands were now clutching his head for an entirely different reason. This all brought back too many memories, so many memories. Everything felt like it was in pieces and in shambles or was going to be after Izuna died. All the nights, he had laid awake in his futon unable to drop the lingering fantasies of his brother's dream. All the times he had contemplated what his brother and his friend schemed at the river meetings. And he admitted, albeit only to himself and to his younger brother’s graves, but that peace they dreamed was also something he dreamed of. That he had fantasized about what would be in the village, how the system would be, how to protect it, what it would look like, and so many other things that he had made reality when he had the chance later in life when they were founding Konoha.

Tobirama was loyal and steadfast, but he wasn’t blind, and he was far from ever letting any lies deceive him. He had lived long enough to see, to watch, and to feel what it is like to not constantly fighting, and just be a kid with other kids. The little tiny things that could crack a smile or make his eyes light up with mirth. He may understand what his brother and his friend wanted the village for, even if it was semi-selfish to only want it to protect their brothers, but when he thought about it, he wanted the village because people living, loving, and protecting was just too hard to resist. It reminded him of family, and how Konoha became home and its people his clan. He could relate to them, the leaf nins, and know that they were just as vulnerable to tenderness and endearment as he was. As he was never supposed to be, because he was born, bred, and raised a shinobi, a warring shinobi.

Kawarama always told him that he was never good with showing his feelings like Itama and Hashirama were, but he knew that he did feel and those feelings were channeled and controlled inside of him. That his emotions never betrayed him but helped him, Kawarama always theorized that his emotions being on his side rather than clouding his logic and thoughts made him such a brilliant genius. Although, after Kawarama died, Tobirama never found the strength within himself to ever test that funny theory his brother had always been so adamant about, it hurt too much as it is. But he did honor Kawarama’s last wish from him, even if Kawarama didn’t actually know he was never coming back, he’d never lose himself. Never lose his dignity, his righteousness, or his empathy. He knew what Kawarama meant when he said that, to never lose himself, to never lose sight of what was precious. Because he knew that corruption was where people lost value in the things they should value. As ironic as it was, it meant that Tobirama can’t lose his ideals, even though compared to his anija, he was the realist. A realist with ideals, then.

And he never did. He could have hated the Uchiha, and their child-killing squads, but he didn’t. He knew, logically, that the adults were idiots. Wrapped up in feud they inherited, too consumed with the conflict to actually realize that their enemies were just the phantoms of faceless prejudice. And Tobirama knew, logically, that to hate Izuna or Madara was the same as hating himself and his anija. They were both doing what they could for the situation that had been laid at their feet. Although he was wary and cautious of the Uchiha because of the power they behold, if anyone with that much power got corrupted and unfeeling it would only spell bad news. He could not forget what Izuna and Madara had done to their clan and clanmates, but he would not blame them for a war they did not start. But he will blame them for enabling it, and he will not forgive them if they continue it. That much he was certain of.

He then thought about Madara and his madness. It hadn’t made sense, why he had been so paranoid about an attack from the Senju, when he had been so onboard with his childhood dream of peace he drew up. Although, Izuna had been adamant about the same things Madara had been, and after Izuna’s death, like a disease, Madara caught it. On a deeper level, Tobirama knew that the whole point of the village was for himself and Izuna and to be able to keep them safe. And for Madara, now that Izuna was gone, what was the point of the village?

Tobirama had come to this conclusion, years ago when Madara had died. Thinking to himself in the dead of night, what would happen if he and Izuna had lived, or had come to an understanding? Or even if he and Izuna had switched places? Surely, his brother would have handled his death better as his brother seemed to care deeply for Madara as if he was another brother. And maybe that would have been best, had he paid the price of peace knowing that Anija, Madara, and Izuna would have taken care of the village, the chance that things wouldn’t have felt so broken, he would have. The dream he had adopted as his own.

Although convincing Izuna will take some doing, but knowing why his long-time rival was so against the Senju and how it came to be that way would satisfy his resolve in the end. He had already lived his life surviving, and he was mental and emotionally exhausted, so maybe it was time to experiment alternative fates.

He then raised his chin, eyes not meeting Izuna’s, still looking at his face, Tobirama steadied himself. Something bubbled in him like anticipation, and a surge of adrenaline came to his aid. This will not end like last time, that much he was sure of. And with that, he leapt from the tree and clashed swords with Izuna.

(Although, he may have disregarded that scent from before a little too quickly.)

As Izuna skidded back from the impact of the sword clash, wind had tingled the back of Tobirama’s neck and sent a flow of wind around them. Izuna was getting ready for an attack before he stilled, and Tobirama froze. Izuna’s chakra signature spasmed, yet his body slowly disengaged from the on guard stance. Tobriama stiffened at the change, but remained where he was. Izuna didn’t bring his sword entirely down, but it came down some and that alone is a lot, especially in Tobirama’s presence. But that didn’t explain–

“Are you ... an Owari?” Izuna’s voice was shaky, low, and a bare whisper, as if he didn’t want it to be true.

While every thought process that was running through the inside of Tobirama’s head simultaneously and effectively crashed. Right then and there.

Chapter Text

“...what?” And that was all Tobirama could manage to grit out.

About as much as Izuna would let after he suddenly launched himself at Tobirama, and knocked them out of the battlefield and into the thick woodland behind them. They landed on the forest floor in a very small, shading clearing. Before Tobirama could so much as react to the sudden threat to himself, his body felt himself get hauled up and slammed into the trunk of a tree. He did believe himself to be light, so Izuna’s strength was irritably commendable. Having the breath knocked out of him though, was very inconvenient. 

Yet, despite this disposition, this did make things easier. No distractions, no outside influences, no interruptions. But–

Owari. Owari ? What was an Owari? Was there something he didn’t know about? But Izuna referred to him as this “Owari” so he’d had to have known too. The word was such a forgien thing on his tongue, meaning origin was far different then jutsu origin. Ruling it out that it could be something about chakra didn’t make it easier to decipher. He could ask Izuna right now thou-

No. No, he has to play along.

The way Izuna phrased it, the question voiced in such a manner as to seek confirmation to a suspicion, meant that culturally Tobirama should already know the given value and importance of such a thing. His head was throbbing already, preparing for another spontaneously induced headache to come on. He was at a disadvantage, he didn’t know where an Owari spelled good or bad news for himself. He also didn’t want to entertain the thought of being in another world. Another world, another timeline, another UNIVERSE so much like his own but not the same not the same not the sa– He’d have time later, back at the village tucked away in its library to thi–

…Konoha doesn’t exist either. He’d be going back to the compound after this battle, and he’d have to face old, buried memories again. Again. Again after all this time trying to keep them at bay and not be enveloped by his own thoughts. 

Huh. This day just keeps getting better and better.

Izuna’s chakra sobered some, although the tangle of chakra swelled and roped around itself meant he was still in turmoil despite his body never betraying that. Tobirama doesn’t particularly like playing the dancing game when it comes to information, but for a goal to complete, there is a lot Tobirama will let slide much his Anija’s horror over the years. 

“...You are an Owari. I know you are,”Izuna’s eyes bore into his skull as he pointed his sword so it angled diagonally across his throat, like all the times they’ve faced each other before, but rather than glaring or seething, he bore into him as if in warning and judgment. The emphasis on Owari had emotions like shock and betrayal. Something Tobirama had witnessed before, but not directed at him. Izuna had never put any trust in him, and Tobirama would think he had a good reason for it. “I can smell it.”

Smell. Heightened smell.

That scent from earlier, … was it his? Does this world have biological constructs for heightened smell? How did it work? Is it possible to smell your own scent and recognise it? The scent also gave away information, like chakra sensing. How much information was given away when smelt? Could the scent be linked to chakra pathways? Clearly, he was giving off a scent, were there also ways to suppress it? It would be useful, considering the heavy value this owari thing has. And he and Izuna both shared heightened smell, and that meant Izuna had a scent just like he does. 

Curiosity almost overrode all his self-preservation instincts, letting his guard almost falter. Such a thing was fascinating, and the inventor in him wanted to know more through experience. Through actually taking a whiff of Izuna’s scent, see what aroma’s he could match with memory, or note it for later when he would hunt it down in the library, to find out the significance as to why it would be made up of that smell. But like said before, it almost overrode his rational thoughts.

Izuna both looked and felt more steady than before, making it very likely any sudden movements would lead him to slice his head off or go for the kill. He also looked like he was expecting an answer, and Tobirama had no answer to give at this point. There was more new than familiar to the albino. Although, engaging in conversation could help with that.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Uchiha.” It was the truth as well as denial. True to the point that he really didn’t have the context or the significance of the information given to him. And denial because he was aware there was context and significance, and the fact that Izuna didn’t know he was this owari thing . Which meant there was a way to hide the scent. 

“You bastard!” Izuna roared, his chakra flared enraged, and let his sword drop until it was steady just above his hip. “The Senju let an Owari on the battlefield, and you have to gall to defend them!?!”

Wincing as Izuna’s grip tightened, and pushed him back into the tree even more. To the point his spin was searing in pain. Tobirama was gauging this carefully, clearly with this new information, owaris were expected NOT to fight or maybe unable to. 

Tobirama did take offense to this, not as much as he nearly could have. Izuna said this probably not out of mockery of his skill, but his role as an owari. Interesting. A cultural conflict. He had a feeling that was why Izuna had lowered his blade against him, Tobirama was protected by the cultural constructs of this world because he was an owari. He’ll file that away and come back to it later.

“I fight very well on my own, Uchiha. Unless your memories from clashing as rivals have escaped you?” Tobirama retorted, raising an eyebrow in inquiry. 

He did not believe Izuna would disregard or forget something he had been so devoted to for years, if he ever did they would be an imposter. Izuna bristled, catching the exact insinuation thrown his way, blush grew on his face in embarrassment, and his signature bouted and throbbed. Tobirama’s eyes lit up with a petty, mild mirth. He was surrounded by impractical, dramatic dorks. 

Izuna had opened his mouth to say, scream more likely, something when Tobirama decided he’d rather keep his ears from such damage. “I chose to fight on my own accord. That decision was made by myself, and myself alone.”

He was pretty sure his Izuna knew this, and wasn’t that a shocker that this Izuna wasn’t his Izuna that he would have to refer to the Izuna he had know his rival enemy victim as HIS– Tobirama breathed deeply as he mercilessly drowned and killed the thought before it could delve into something Tobirama couldn’t handle in the present time. There was a time and place for everything, and to get lost in his own mind was for later, for when he was safe in his lab, or the library, or near the river– just not here .

Izuna stared at him, studied him while Tobirama refused to meet that red gaze. He could feel his chakra flicker with an emotion he didn’t recognize. Not because Tobirama couldn’t recognize emotions when sensing, all emotion had a certain twist about them that was not subtle when it came to chakra and he knew. No, it was because all chakra signatures were uniquely different from each other, complex and ever changing as the person they harbored. That being said, emotion may have a notable twist but that twist blended in with the emanation of the chakra signature making is thus hard to decipher. And he might know Izuna’s chakra signature, but as far as emotions go, he only ever knows of the ones Izuna’s expression on the battlefield. 

Tobirama watches Izuna’s lips, choosing to look that much closer to his eyes, not out of spite but respect. Izuna was a rival first, more than he was an enemy. A dangerous rival, one to be dealt with caution, but a more than worthy rival. 

Izuna’s lips are a fine line, twitching with every spark that his chakra blazes. Tobirama had always been able to recognize Izuna’s chakra, it was less than a fire or flame and more of the vicious, glistening lightning and ceaseless booming of thunder in more foul moods. It brought back memories to say the least. It was troubling, that day he had killed Izuna. He had reacted more out of what he had felt from Izuna’s chakra than to the situation itself. 

That was because that day Izuna felt different, and unusual. That fizzing, electrifying chakra of his rumbled and sent tremors only Tobirama could feel. It was minacious and murderous, and Tobirama knew that day, if given the chance, the opportunity, Izuna would've killed him. And he knew that if Izuna was set on it, every battle after that Izuna would always be looking for the killing blow. So instead of that Tobirama logically decided that in his self-defense, he’d strike the fatal blow first. He did. He won’t say he didn’t feel dread when it happened, or regret in the face of Anija's disappointment, or the empathic pain from Madara’s horror. He values honesty, even from himself. 

Although watching Izuna like this, from so close, while he was still alive, made all his insides twist. Sweat, slimy and cold, slid down his spine. Something bad was about to happen to him.

“That doesn’t make anything better, Senju.” Izuna seethed that last part, but the rest was uttered calmly, softly. Tobirama kept his eyes on his lips and refused to disengage. He’d never back down to Izuna, he didn’t deserve it as a worthy rival. “Does your clan head know about it?” 

Now, that was a definite threat that Tobirama could recognize throughout the entire conversation they’ve had. His entire body drew up defensively where he was still fixed against the tree. 

Although, he wasn’t sure if this version of Anija knew, and he doesn’t keep much from his Anija. Not really. Even though it makes sense that enemies wouldn’t know about a thing like that, he remembers before how Izuna thought it was incredulous that an “owari” would fight. Anija hadn’t always been on to stick to tradition, but Tobirama had been, for good reasons too. But if he broke this “owari” cultural tradition, there most likely a good reason for that too. Concluding this threat is about exposing this “owari” secret, and if it means to play along is to hide it, then he will. 

“Believe what you want, Uchiha,” He retorted in a mild, but cold tone. A tone Izuna knew was one right before a counter attack and he stiffened. “But no one is going to believe you without proof.” 

Izuna’s chakra then crackled, not at all pleased with that challenging statement. Before Tobirama could go on, Izuna’s hand nabbed something from one of his armor’s pouches and shoved Tobirama, like his body could go any further into the tree. Izuna leapt back, but not far. In his hand, was a tiny capsule with smaller beads inside. Pills. They looked almost like hyōrōgans. Yet for some reason, the smug smirk plastered on Izuna’s face spelled out that they weren’t those.

“...Shūki burokkāpirus. A lot of them. How many do you take a day, Owari Senju?” Izuna interrogated, fiddling with the capsule in his hand. “Too many for a supposed Le to need to hide their scent, right?”

Scent blocking pills. That’s what those were. The way to hide scent. He wants those, he needs those. But those were already his , so he’ll just be taking them back. 

Izuna scoffed as Tobirama threw a his kunai marked with Hiraishin that Izuna easily dodged, and Tobirama activated the seal, like so many times before, and he appeared right next to Izuna whose chakra, like the first time he’d used Hiraishin on the field, stilled. Izuna’s eyes traveled to where Tobirama had appeared next to himself and watched Tobirama snatch back the capsule. He then kicked Izuna, watching the knock back send him flying into the battlefield clearing. 

And this time, as Tobirama opened the capsule and shook it horizontally to his palm until a pill came out, he’d let his curiosity get the best of him. Then he popped the pill into his mouth. 

It dissolved on his tongue make the pill residue spread throughout his entire mouth. It tasted like nothing Tobirama had ever consumed before. The pill was sour and sweet at the same time. Sweet on the tongue, but as it went down the throat, the taste turned tart and tangy tickling the backend of his tongue. Right after he thought it was done, he took a breath and the air felt lighter, thinner. Yet this wasn’t foreign, it felt like he could breathe naturally again as if he were relaxed in his office back at the village. The experience was beguiling to him.

His eyes then widened as he came to the realization later, he was breathing normally now. Probably not normal by the standards of this world, but his version of normal. It hadn’t even occurred to him how hard breathing was, as he had disregarded it as part of the situation for being in a fight and all, but now he felt the difference it couldn’t be more direct. 

This was something important to keep in mind, as he filed it away with the rest of the new information for later revision.

There were explicit signs that whatever difference in the biology in this world, and he was no idiot he could see the connections as bright as day, affected the people here enough that it couldn’t be ignored or set aside or even pushed through. Enough so that the solution was to implement it into the culture and politics of this world. Looks like, if he survived this battle and got back to the compound, the history books are going to be the first things he consults.

Anticipation reverberated in Izuna’s chakra, and Tobirama felt there was no better way to keep Izuna’s mouth shut than to keep him occupied with an opponent. 

And that was easy enough to do. 

* * *

Despite the fact that he already showed Izuna his Hiraishin, Izuna still had trouble keeping up with him while they battled. 

It was disorienting for both of them . 

That was until halfway into a strike, he noticed Izuna automatically slid into a form to counter strike before abruptly jerking into a defendable curve. In all the time Tobirama had known Izuna, he had never known him to go on the defensive. He didn’t really believe that any other version of him would deviate from that. Although Tobirama isn’t known for his errors, doesn't mean he doesn’t make them. Tobirama gave no trouble for Izuna, his blocks and defense were so very lacking that if he were one of his students he’d be in for readjustment exercises for months, as he wasn’t trying to kill him either. And they continued to trade blow for blow. It felt like a stalemate, even though both were very aware that if either of them were to actually go for the kill they’d succeed. It felt so familiar, not in experience but in–

Tobirama’s thoughts were dragged away to the familiar chakra signatures, in a parallel stalemate. 

His Anija’s bright, vast, luminous chakra and Madara’s burning magma shrouded in smoke and gasses of all kinds of incarcerated rock. They clashed with each, minor licks and flicks of emotion but overall passive concentration stirred and intensified their chakras. Tobirama can’t remember a time where they weren't equaling their field of advantage. And something wondered in him if that's what his Anija felt like when fighting Madara? The same way he’s feeling now with Izuna. Like two puzzle pieces molded to fit each by their own will. 

It’s outrightly enthralling. 

(...he refused to admit that little piece of information to anyone.)

But, it did bring him back to the question snagging his mind. Why?

Why would Izuna let himself be put in such a vulnerable position? Such a disadvantage? It made no sense. Was he trying to get himself killed? The idiot.

He dodged a few more of Izuna's careful strikes, careful in the mind of easily defensible attacks, and got up right into his space and brought up his sword a second later giving Izuna plenty of time to choose whether to strike him down or block the attack. Izuna predictably, as of recently, chose the latter. And their swords clashed. And Tobirama took the bold move to actually, finally look Izuna in the eyes. Red locking on red.

He could see the moment Izuna realized Tobirama was actually seeing eye to eye with him. His chakra signature spasmed worse than before, while all his face betrayed was his eyes widening to a comical degree. Tobirama let a tiny smirk crack across his face. Izuna had always been cocky and brash, this Tobirama knows, to watch him lose his footing was pleasant. 

Tobirama pulled back and leapt away from Izuna, and raised a pointed eyebrow at him with a passive face, smirk faded but mirth still there. And his silence spoke volumes to the Uchiha before him.

Izuna’s face was flushed with a shade edging on red and bristling. His chakra roared with indignation and embarrassment. White knuckling his sword, he darkly chuckled before lunging. It would have been a threat, if Izuna hadn’t deliberately made it yet another defendable attack. Tobirama knew he had made a face as Izuna’s chakra flashed with tempered maniacal glee. And damn his logic, he wanted to wipe that cocky smirk off his face just for the satisfaction.

Though he sobered from that adrenaline spree, when he smelt something. Something thick in the air, as the wind up from behind Izuna. Just like before, fragrant yet musky.

He could smell damp soil, the citrusy, pinene of pine cones and pine trees, and an underlining coat of ash. There was also ozone, the sweet and pungent aroma like a storm brewing in the sky, raining, and thundering. Then the fragrance of lemony from hurricane lilies, and the musky woody-earthy from moss and dead bark. And—oh.

This was Izuna’s scent.  

Tobirama thought it was undiginifying how hard it was to keep himself from not openly inhaling that thick scent. Though he couldn’t blame himself, it was new. There were still some things in Izuna’s scent that Tobirama couldn't put a pin on. He wanted to memorize the scent he didn’t know and search for them later. He got lucky there were aromas that he was already familiar with, and those made up the majority of Izuna’s scent, the more potent bits. But still, there was more. He knew there was.

He shifted to block another attack from Izuna, and dragged himself away from his thoughts back to the stalemate at hand. 

Right when he was getting used to the fight, he had to be reminded that there were other worldly things in this world, and with him now, that he will not be able to ignore or put aside. That had to be dealt with at every turn. Yet, Izuna didn’t seem fazed, meaning that his own scent was still hidden. Because if his scent wasn’t hidden Izuna would probably have the same reaction that he did earlier. Interesting how those pills work, he’ll investigate them later.

He was going in for a strike, a defendable one, back into Izuna’s space before he heard a retreat was being called. Which side had called it didn’t really matter. 

Both Izuna and himself disengaged and leapt from each other, and even with space apart and no threats between them they stayed for a moment. Staring at each other. No longer red on red, but rather black on red. 

Izuna’s chakra rumbled and cracked with lightning, eyes fixed and seeing something in the albino red eyes, yet Tobirama couldn’t fathom what. Izuna dipped his head subtly and Tobirama did the same, and they broke eye contact at the very same time. 

Tobirama stopped right before joining the other Senju’s making their way back to the compound. Uncertainty was a terrible thing, but Tobirama knew better than to ignore it.

He dug his hand into his pouch and clasped the capsule to pull it out. He shook the capsule horizontally into his palm until another inky black bead came out. He closed his hand around the bead, while putting the capsule into his pouch.

Popping the pill into his mouth, letting it dissolve in there. He kept on his way.

Sweet and sour plagued his taste buds all the way back to the compound. And screw whoever said things taste different depending on your mood.

Chapter Text

There was stupidity, and then there was whatever this shit was.

The compound had not changed drastically compared to the one in his memories, but to say that it was the same was overstating it. Buildings had been moved or replaced, and there were new sections for operations he wasn’t privy to. He had a sneaky suspicion that whatever all this architecture redesign was, it had something to do with the whole heightened sense phenomena he had just discovered. And some part of Tobirama was glad that he was aware there were things that he didn’t know about the moment he came to himself in this new world. He’d rather not think about what would happen if he had not known and messed with things unintentionally. That would be … a migraine and a half.

After they got back, his Anija nearly tackled him when he was spotted, in which he was glad that his Anija hadn’t changed too much no matter the universe. (Although, it made him uncertain. His Anija had never been free with his affection towards him . His first instinct toward meeting this one was to be cautious or skeptical, but his heart ached. Words couldn't describe how much his Anija’s affection meant to him.) And he was in Anija space which he’d never thought he would be able to do again. He had forgotten what it was like, but it was just surreal. That is why I didn't even give it a second thought to not embrace this too.

(Maybe he should have.)

Hashirama had snuggled Tobirama in a caging hug and it made Tobirama unwillingly bury his face in the crook of his Anija’s neck. Tobirama had not been ready for the absolute onslaught his nose would be enduring. 

His brother smelled of meadows, that held aromas of freshly cut grass that was sort of tangy and the rich sweet-smelling scent of pollen. Or maybe it was fields, a mixture of rice or wheat he thought, as he could also smell raw flour of wheat and the rice’s odor of overcooked corn and roasted nuts. There was also an invisible, but very much there, smell of mineral. Fresh and clear like on a sunny mid-morning. And vanilla. An earthy vanilla, one he recognized from oak trees. 

Oaks trees. 

Hashirama’s favorite kinds of trees.

There was more to his brother’s scent but, but Tobirama was dying from how dominating Anija’s actually was. Being too close clearly meant that the heightened smelling ability went haywire. He felt hot all over too, heat enveloped his body, like the sun in Anija’s scent was shining on him right in that moment. His hands felt like how they would if he dug them under sun-warmed sand, and let them soak in the heat. It wasn’t as overwhelming as the stinging he could actually feel in his nose and through its cavities. His strain must have been noticed as Hashirama pulled back and studied him for a brief second. Though, only for a moment.

Tobirama knew for a fact that his brother is not actually an idiot, or rather not as much of an idiot as he could be. His Anija was dense and that made up most of his stupidity, but that only meant he was slow to understand certain things and at times would reach the right conclusion eventually. And if his Anija was good at anything, it was being able to read emotions on people and infer what action to take next.

(Something he, himself, lacks immeasurably.)

He should be more careful around this version of his Anija, just a bit more wary than he is of his own. Because although this universe reminds him of his own, he can see where the two differ. He wonders now, if he’s even been acting the same as the version of himself that he’s replaced. Observing Anija now, maybe it was bad judgment on his part to avoid this meeting that he was so unsure of.

“I didn’t mean to concern you, Anija. Uchiha Izuna had acted weird during the battle, so I had been analyzing our fight. That is why I forgot to check in with you.” Tobirama believed explaining himself would calm Hashirama enough so that he was easily distracted by either his dreams or his duties. It had worked before, with almost perfect accuracy. 

Yet, this universe seemed to want to remind Tobirama that he didn’t belong here.

“Izuna? Acting weird? What kind of weird?” Hashirama’s curiosity peaked, and Tobirama knew that never meant anything good, for anyone, when that happened. The last time Hashirama got curious, Tobirama remembers his Anija was plucking sea urchin spines out of his feet, jellyfish off his back, and hermit crabs from his hair and Tobirama had to stand in his place as representative of Konoha at the summit held in the Land of Water while Hashirama was bounded to their inn’s room from further incident. Tobirama hadn’t found it nearly as funny as Touka or Hikaku did, as he was one cleaning up in the aftermath. 

So he knew he was giving a face edging on discriminative agony at Anija's squawk with his sixth sense for Tobirama’s expressional gymnastics. 

“What, what, what, what!” Flailing as he did so, Hashirama pulled back from the loose embrace and Tobirama could feel the relief unknot inside him. His nose was no longer twitching to sneeze from the overpowering scent that his Anija harbored. “What’s wrong, Tobirama? Can’t I help my otouto?”

Tobirama wanted to scoff at that, but he did not want to deal with Hashirama’s pouting from it. So he gave his Ainja the most deadpan look, interlocking gazes as he did so. “There is help, and then there is exigent.”

Hashirama made an overly dramatic cry of indignation and betrayal. “Tobi! Don’t use words I don’t know!” His shoulders slumped and his head dropped and Tobirama raised an unimpressed brow at his Anija’s depressive episode. “That’s mean!”

“Expand your vocabulary, Anija.” Tobirama said coolly, but the corners of his mouth and his eyes tugged with mirth, and his breath uneven by levity. (He wondered, in the back of his mind, when the last time he and Hashirama were last this … brotherly . Genuinely. And without thought.)

His Anija popped his head back up with a bright smile and a mischievous gleam to his eyes. Tobirama knew that Hashirama believed he thought of something clever, and depending on what it was Tobirama might even indulge his Anija. “There's nothing wrong with accepting a little help on the battlefield, otouto.”

Tobirama’s eye wanted to twitch, and it almost did. Tobirama knew exactly where that was coming from, and, as much as this Hashirama doesn’t know (hasn’t lived through it), that statement hadn’t always been one of poking mischievous, poking fun but also of disappointment and dismay.

Memories. Bad ones. Painful ones. Surrounding that statement. A thousand regrets in every character of  each word. Drowning and muting all the better, more innocent memories.

Tobirama felt like every time he realized he was from another world, he was getting struck down onto the ground. Or stabbed. Depending on how impactful the emotional trauma became. He took a breath, subtly, this Anija was right in front of him after all. It is inappropriate to spoil a mood, on purpose, and it helped that it reminded him of the research he needed to do. He leveled a look at Hashirama and knew he would have to make this quick.

“Anija, my rival’s theatrics are not of your concern.” HIs face is impassive, and voice steady.

“Since when?” And this Anija's face of innocent puzzlement should be punched.

Tobirama didn’t roll his eyes. “Since our rivalry began. You don’t see me interfering in your rivalry, do you?”

“Madara is different!” Of course, like he hasn’t heard that one before.

He sighed. “You say that about everything he does.”

“Because it’s true!” Hashirama protested.

“When will it not be?” He said that more rhetorically. But, Tobirama knew the answer to that question more now than he had ever. Madara … is different when it comes to enemies. But after Izuna’s death–

There was no distinction.

This Anija seemed to pick up on the rhetorical-ness of the question, and he didn’t say anything. But he gave Tobirama a rather bemused yet quizzical look. Then he chuckled softly, his eyes held something like wonder in them as they peered into his own. It made Tobirama itch, severely. His Anija had never looked at him like that in a very long time, and even then, it was extremely rare.

“What?” And he sounded defensive, but the stupid look this Anija was wearing deserved it. Elder brothers were always menaces, and his Anija was the worst of them all. Especially to Tobirama, this he knew.

This Hashirama stayed silent, staring at Tobirama a while longer before he decided to answer Tobirama. “Otouto? When did you become so merciful?”

He froze in place for a moment. Just breathing in and out. Staring at this Anija. Peace , he thought in answer. The Village–Konoha , he thoughts sang. The Academy , he wanted to say. Izuna . His lips parted to spring a retort, but he came up short. 

Izuna had been different. He was always different. But it must be his own bias lingering around in his thoughts. Izuna was the first to have claimed him as his ultimate rival. The first enemy of his own age he had clashed swords with. The first person who focused on him and prioritized him above everything else. … He was an asshole and brat to a rather personal degree, but he at least didn’t make Tobirama feel forgotten. Izuna reminded Tobirama of a dream brother. Izuna was charismatic, socialible, playful, but loyal, devoted, and harmonic. He had faults and weaknesses, ones that Tobirama knew better than anyone. Afterall, Izuna had focused on him on that battlefield more than any other soul. Tobirama could see that Izuna was self-absorbed and self-righteous, having eyes but actually seeing the world and how it really works. He didn’t understand how the pieces fit together, but he really didn’t make an effort to either.

And when he died … Tobirama never thought it possible.

Izuna was bendable, flexible, durable, and malleable. There was nothing Tobirama could throw at him in all their fights that he wouldn’t be able to bounce back from, out maneuver, out pace, or, at the very least, overcome. Others would say Izuna was gifted to keep up with a genius like Tobirama and all his experiments. But to Tobirama, Izuna was downright inspiring .

Peace was a pipedream. Either out of reach or a price too risky to pay for it. And somehow, it ended up being both in the end. And Izuna’s death was the catalyst. 

(… he so desperately wanted to know how Izuna died. He should have lived, Izuna should have been unbreakable like he had always been. It ate away at the back of his brain for years, well into even the first shinobi war, that fact he didn’t know. He never knew the secret sealed with Madara’s death. He wanted to know, wanted to know if it was preventable, fixable, avoidable. And perhaps, he thought darkly, it always had been.)

((-had he know beating the sharingan and placing a lethal blow would be the deciding factor of his rivals death–he would have stayed his strike))

“You expect me to be merciless, Anija?” And Hashirama sputtered and jerked his head in frantic negatives. Tobirama's eyes narrowed at this Anija, why would his mercy warrant that kind of reaction. Hashirama laughed awkwardly before it faded, and took a moment to look Tobirama over.

“You just seem less … ah,… more relaxed. Than before.” Tobirama gave him a judging but calculated look, and this Anija swallowed. “Like you're not looking over your shoulder every time your guard is … unsupervised.”

He wonders for a brief second if his alternate from this world had a reason to be so paranoid and concerned. Then his mind goes back to earlier with the whole thing with Izuna.

Owari .

Tobirama stiffens slightly. That’s right. He needs to figure out that whole business. Before he finds himself walking into a cultural or traditional political calamity. The newness of being in another world.

“Excuse me, Anija, but we both have things to do and get back to.” And without lingering, makes a beeline for his lab and his library. Or at least where it should be, if its location hasn’t changed.

***

The location had changed. But, fortunately, after navigating a minefield of a conversation with Touka, he got directions to his lab. (Touka, thank the gods, was still the same as ever. If a bit more … loose.)

When Tobirama finally was able to engross himself in the books he had found, he was mortified and his mind thoroughly broken.

This world is far different from his own. There was a second gender that created an entire hierarchy among other hierarchies. Like the world needs more to judge and discriminate people for. There was even separation between male and female. Although he was still piecing his conversation with Izuna from earlier. He made sure to understand the information.

Saishos and Kaishis are the dominants in the second gender. Saisho for a male and Kaishi for a female. They stand at the top, with the ability to overpower and subjugate the other second genders. Most with this second gender find or seize power in society, and many leaders or people of power will likely have this second gender. Saishos and Kaishis are most compatible with Owaris or Saigos, and can impregnate Le or Man'nakas. Saishos usually have a knot when aroused and Kaishis are also able to impregnate others; some will temporarily grow a penis to do so, or their vulva will permanently grow into one when they present.

Le and Man’nakas are subordinate to Saishos and Kaishis within the hierarchy. Le for a male and Man’naka for a female. Le and Man’nakas are often presented as having "normal" human anatomy, with none of the special attributes of Saishos, Kaishis, Saigos, or Owaris. They may be the peacemakers between Saishos, Kaishis, Saigos, and Owaris. And in special cases they may be able to impregnate Saigos and Owaris. But more often than not now, it is uncommon but they are able to be impregnated by Saishos and Kaishis. 

Owaris and Saigos, the more complicated of the six, can get pregnant and go into heat. Owari for a male and Saigo for a female. They were once considered to be the lowest on the hierarchy, but with them on the brink of extinction, they are now more invaluable than ever. Owaris are self-lubricating and have the ability to become pregnant, sometimes referred to as being bred or mated. They are especially subject to fertility issues, miscarriages, and difficult pregnancies. Whereas Saigos have easier and more tempered heats and pregnancies.

Lovers may form pair-bonds (often involving mating bites) with a special connection with telepathic or empathetic qualities. In many cases, Saishos and Kaishis may be jealous and possessive of their mate, while the Owaris and Saigos may become highly tied and needy. Owaris and Saigos may go into heat and need to have sex; this may be the only time they are fertile. The Saishos and Kaishis equivalent is known as a rut.

The ratio of Saishos to Le to Owaris, or Kaishis to Man’nakas to Saigos, within the population is as of late 35% to 60% to 5%. And while the first two steadily rise, the latter continues to dwindle.

That conversation is starting to make much more sense at a very alarming rate.

And he didn’t know where to even start.