Chapter Text
The first surprising thing Hashirama had learned when they started to spar so many years ago, was that Izuna fought dirty. He was neither over throwing dirt nor hair pulling nor biting nor anything else that belonged more to a low-key street brawl than to an ‘honorable’ shinobi fight.
Not that any shinobi would care about honor if it was about life or death. They weren’t samurai whose whole existence rotated about honor. Honor was a pretty exciting thing for Hashirama as long as it belonged to the novel they were reading together currently, but not so exciting when it came up in reality. Not that Hashirama didn’t care about honor. He did. He only didn’t put it over the lives of his people. Or his own. The ninja were not the immoral savages some of the Daimyō’s samurai painted them, but well… it didn’t dirty his or Izuna’s honor if a kick into the family jewels of an opponent saved a life. He should probably mention it at one of the meetings with the Daimyō’s Samurai Counselor. The man would probably faint.
Aside from dirty or not so dirty tricks, Izuna was fast. Not just very fast but really fucking freakish fast. The fastest person he had ever fought, including Tobirama. Knowing that it made so much more sense why Tobirama had to invented his Hiraishin no Jutsu to keep up with him.
It didn't make things any easier that Tobirama had taught Izuna his shadow clone technique, and Izuna was putting it to really good use. Hashirama found it challenging enough to keep up with one Izuna but two were even for him taxing.
And all of that without his Sharingan.
Hashirama occasionally wondered what it would be like if Izuna still had his Sharingan and could pull something as nasty as Madara's Susanoo out of his sleeve in addition to his speed. He didn’t mention that thoughts to Izuna, though. Izuna had told him during a soft pillow-talk moment how insecure and useless he had felt after giving his Sharingan away, even if he did never mention any regret. There wasn’t any bad blood between the Uchiha brothers because of their eyes and Hashirama was very glad about that. Well, on the contrary Izuna was Madara's biggest fan in general, but with anything Sharingan related in particular. Hashirama could swear that his pretty boyfriend had shed tears of pride when Madara showed off with his ‘Perfect Susanoo’ in one of their sparrings. Hashirama had to admit that the chakric warrior, who resembled a grim Tengu, was really impressive in his skin and armor. The last time Madara used the thing it had been so dense that it nearly felt physical.
It was nothing Hashirama fought easily. Well, not yet at least. He was working on a little surprise of his own, so that might change. Oh, Madara would spit venom and fire if he would manage to fight his Perfect Susanoo like child’s play! He was so smug about it all the time! Hashirama grinned about that thought and rubbed absent minded over his cheek, where the last time he had trained his new ‘specialty’ dark markings had appeared.
Still, there was no reason for Izuna to be insecure because he no longer had a Sharingan. He was still one of the most skilled shinobi Hashirama knew. To be honest, he would have considered him just as much of a threat on the battlefield as Madara. The brothers' fighting styles were barely comparable, apart from the way they performed the basics. Madara always relayed on his exceptional strength, giant chakra resources and strong eyes, and peppered that already deathly set with his swift kusarigama and blazing hot fire jutsu. Hashirama had a quite similar style, as his most prominent skills were his bodily strength and endurance and his close to bottomless chakra sources fueling his mokuton. So, their spars were usually harsh one-on-ones where one blast followed the next with barely any break in between and a lot of damage to the surroundings.
Like an earthquake marrying a hurricane, Izuna once said smugly.
Izuna on the other hand was all speed: quick mind and lithe body. In a fight he stayed rarely where he was last seen and even more rarely appeared where he was expected to be. In addition to his scurrying agility, Izuna had also acquired some practical jutsu outside of his affinity for fire. For example, one that allowed him to shoot out of the ground completely unexpectedly. In combination with the shadow clone jutsu, a pretty nasty story.
All in all, a really good challenge. And Hashirama always had loved a good challenge and this was one.
Which led him to wonder... where had his precious partner disappeared this time?
Infusing the roots and trees around him with his mokuton was easy for Hashirama, tracking down Izuna wasn’t. That was another skill that made Hashirama's life miserable when he went against Izuna. He was cunning. While Tobirama was a genius in inventing new jutsu and long-term strategies, Izuna was a genius in finding a million ways to fox him. Balancing on a pebble to make himself invisible for the roots? Diving through mud and water without causing even a tiny ripple? Dangling from a branch, only held by a cord? Those were only the beginnings of Izuna's little tricks. There were also the use of about a million jutsu to hide his presence, poisonous senbon (in sparring Izuna used a poison that itched horribly for days; he called it a lasting learning effect) and the fact that Izuna loved to turn simple basic jutsu like Kawarimi no Jutsu and Henge no Jutsu to another level.
Nevertheless, until now Izuna never won any of their sparring matches, because Hashirama also had a lot of tricks up his sleeve and would never disgrace Izuna by playing it easy.
Most of the time, Izuna seemed very happy to be taken seriously, but every now and then a little frustration would appear. Or at least that was how Hashirama interpreted the nasty punch on his nose the last time they trained. Izuna's fist and other people's noses were in a relationship that almost always resulted in someone having a broken schnoz. Madara’s slightly crooked beak in particular could tell you a thing or two about it, but Hashirama had also had his fair share of involuntary facial beautifications over the years. In such a case, he was doubly unfortunate, because his nose generally healed far too quickly on his own and not always as it should. The last time it had been so crooked that he had to break and heal it again after training to avoid looking like a hawk (or Madara) for the rest of his life. Even though Izuna later said it had been ‘kind of charming’. Hashirama wouldn't even have believed that if the Uchiha hadn't laughed like a gleeful psycho.
An unusual shadow between the trees caught Hashirama's attention and he sent his wooden clone towards it. Sending his chakra into some of the roots over there he cursed under his breath. It was a little bit out of his range. Little devil Izuna, he had learned his lessons far too well. But if he could…
“Gotcha.”
Cold steel touched Hashirama's skin right under his Adam's apple and even if he was quite sure he could probably survive a slit throat, he was impressed. He hadn't sensed Izuna at all. Frozen in his movements he grinned.
“That's a point for you.”
“Pfff. As if. You probably could impale me with one of your roots the moment the blade draws blood and kill me while you heal yourself.”, Izuna growled and lowered his sword. Hashirama had examined the weapon very closely when Izuna once showed it to him like a proud cat would show its latest catch. As far as he knew his quirky Uchiha it was a serious sign of trust that he showed his favorite weapon to him. He hated other people touching his blade just as much as their hands in his hair. Yet, aside from the fact that the weapon was beautiful with its red hilt and the dark steel, it was neither impressive and long as the sword Tobirama preferred or as elegant and long ranging as a standard katana. But it was a fine piece, very well made and exactly adapted to Izuna's speed and skills. The special part was not only that Izuna loved it, but also that it was unique, made especially for Izuna, with an ancient Uchiha prayer engraved on the blade and shaped in a forge fire that Izuna had nourished with his chakra for hours. It answered to Izuna’s chakra like a living being and could also become blazing hot.
It was the only thing Izuna’s father had ever given his youngest son that was made for him and never belonged to any of his siblings before.
“It's still a point. It would have been a potential deadly wound.”, Hashirama contradicted. He turned around and looked into two dark eyes, freckled with brownish spots around a seemingly bottomless pupil.
“At least it would have hurt like bitch. Imagine breathing your own blood instead of air, because your windpipe is cut through.” A dark sheen crossed Izuna's eyes at that thought. “Well, maybe you’re right and you would have not healed so well. Suffocation on your own blood sounds distracting. Perhaps you would heal your windpipe just as crookedly as your tine and die for that very reason. Healed to death, that would be something new.”
“You're a little too interested in the likelihood of my agonizing death, pretty.”, Hashirama muttered and gave his boyfriend a cheeky grin before he cupped his face in his hand and brush a kiss against his full lips.
Izuna chuckled, the darkness vanishing out of his eyes, replaced by a boyish mischief. The brown freckles in his eyes seemed to glitter. Hashirama loved his eyes. He would have loved them anyways, because he loved the whole man, but he loved especially how his eyes turned out after 'the incident'. They were pretty and probably the most valuable gift he had ever been able to give his Izuna. Even if he still had troubles to grasp how valuable exactly. Uchiha had a rather alien relationship to their eyes, Hashirama had learned that eight years ago when Izuna had given his eyes to Madara. Not that he didn't understand what boundless love felt like and how far this feeling could take you. But the idea of giving his eyes to another and blinding himself in the process was simply too much for him. He couldn't imagine how it must feel for Madara to have his brother's eyes.
Sometimes Hashirama imagined with great discomfort a world in which Izuna had died and only his eyes remained in Madara's sockets. A bloody, daily reminder of what Madara had lost. It probably would have driven his best friend mad, and Hashirama simply didn't want to imagine a world without Madara. Or without Izuna. Especially not without his Izuna.
“Well, you can never be sure when you'll need it.”, Izuna chirped mischievously like the brat he was and pressed himself shamelessly against Hashirama's chest to stretch like a lazy cat. His long fingers slipped under Hashirama’s hair to his neck and gave him a pleasant scratching. “I have to plan for the future. Maybe in a few years, when you're old and gray and can't get it up anymore, I'll want to replace you with a younger version. There a some really sweet guys among your cousi.... Eeep!” Izuna shrieked when Hashirama found his most ticklish point and used it. Izuna tried to wriggle out of his grip, squealing and gasping, but Hashirama mercilessly exploited the small weakness. He continued until Izuna's legs gave way and he sank helplessly against Hashirama's chest. Only then did he stop and hugged Izuna tightly again.
“You wouldn't find any replacement that could satisfy you.”, Hashirama purred and run one of his hands lower to squeeze a firm butt cheek.
Izuna still panting and pink cheeked played the annoyed one and groaned. “Maybe you should stop to overestimate yourself. I would be very fine without having to deal with the daily dose of your crazy libido!”
“Liar.”, Hashirama mumbled and caressed the spot he had pinched for the obvious lie, “Pretty, little liar...” He licked Izuna's grinning mouth and took his soft lower lip between his teeth. Izuna growled in agreement, and Hashirama just proceeded to lick his way into his mouth until they shared one of those heated kisses that regularly fried some of his brain cells.
“Hmm...”, Izuna made after a while and sucked on his bottom lip, while his fingers played with the hem of Hashirama's shirt. His face was heated and his eyes showed a well-known fire. “Perhaps you could try to convict me of lying. Here and now, just fuck me against the tree and see what happens....”
He didn't need to be told that twice. The next moment, he pinned Izuna against the closest tree and let his hand wander greedily over Izuna's slim body. “Where has all that cute blushing gone, as soon as someone mentioned ‘things’?”, Hashirama teased and sucked forcefully at the soft spot between Izuna’s throat and jaw. Izuna tilted his head with a soft moan to offer him more room to molest his pale skin.
“You probably fucked it out of me.”, he rasped, voice deep and thick.
“Did I? Nasty me.”
The intonation of an eyeroll made Hashirama grin, just as the demanding hand that tried to guide his head lower. Well, he would have missed Izuna's shy times, if he didn't love his demanding and commanding side more. And if he wanted him to blush, he could always praise him. His sweet Uchiha would never get used to be called ‘perfect’ or a ‘masterpiece of beauty’. Or he could use some overly cute nicknames. Or he simply could tell him how much he loved him. Nothing made Izuna blush more than words of affection, whispered into his ear.
Izuna tugged at his hair and Hashirama hummed his approval, but didn’t speed up. He took his time to open Izuna's mantle and to caress every piece of flesh he could reach.
“Come on.... I said I want to be fucked, not to be undressed.”
“The one thing requires the other, Pretty.”
“Tse... then go for the pants, already!”, Izuna commanded and grinned triumphantly when Hashirama indeed started to undo his belt. But suddenly Izuna stiffened and pushed Hashirama’s shoulders. "What the fuck, Hashirama! Just send that guy away. He's staring!" Izuna cursed rather irritably and Hashirama turned slightly to see his own wooden clone slowly approaching them. The clone had indeed a very intense expression, eyes locked onto Izuna and lips slightly open. It looked… horny, ready to devour the Uchiha right here and there. Hashirama wondered if he looked always like that when he was about to get into his lover’s pants. Well, he probably did, because it was his clone. So...
“Maybe he wants to have his share?”
“WHAT?”
Hashirama suddenly grinned and casually pulled down Izuna's pants, exposing perfectly sculped pale thighs and the still bruised skin there. He loved Izuna’s legs. He also loved to suck and bite hickeys all over into his lover’s skin and watch the green and blue markings bloom. It was needless to say that because of this little kink Izuna had never been free of hickeys since the day they had sex for the first time. Minus the times Hashirama was away from the village. It was quite satisfying to come back from a long trip and find his partner’s skin all white and unmarked, like a fresh canvas ready to be decorated by him again. ”I said, maybe he wants...”
“I heard you! What kind of stupid idea is that again?”, Izuna growled, his whole body flushed, and he pressed his hand to Hashirama's forehead to shove him away. “Stop already and dismiss that clone! The thing looks like a creep!”
“He looks exactly like I.”, Hashirama managed to sound a little hurt, even if he wasn’t, and bent his head to chase after Izuna’s lips. After eight years of being together he knew that his lover seldomly gave in to new ideas concerning their sex-life without being a little bit bitchy about it at first. Like when Hashirama had brought the leather straps into bed to play. In the end, Izuna had enjoyed the bondage game so much that they now had a whole arsenal of different restraints, but it had been a rocky road to get him there. It was part of his charm to be bitchy and Hashirama actually liked the challenge to coax his unruly partner into something he wanted to try out. It just needed the perfect rate of pressure and seduction.
“That's just what I said!”, Izuna snapped and turned his head to avoid the kiss. Instead, he glared, this time really pissed. “Dismiss it!”
Hashirama didn't want to give up the idea so quickly, so he tilted his head and pressed his fingers into Izuna's bare buttocks, offering him a seductive smile. “I think I want to let it participate, Izuna~. Imagine...”
Izuna's knee met his stomach and a well-placed kunai turned his clone into a vaguely human shaped log. While Hashirama went down with a dramatic whimper, Izuna pulled his pants up and stomped over to remove the kunai from the remnants of the wooden clone. With a judging sneer he glanced back to Hashirama, one hand running through his shaggy hair, the other hand pointing the kunai towards Hashirama. Hashirama was not in the right state to appreciate it sufficiently, but with his eyes flashing deadly under lowered lashes, Izuna looked downright like the embodiment of death. A seductive death.
“Imagine yourself sleeping alone today, pervert!”, Izuna hissed.
“But....”
“And tomorrow.”
“Izuna...”
“You only make it worse! I hate sleeping alone and I am so close to say ‘the day after tomorrow’, so just keep your fucking mouth shut, Hashirama!”
Hashirama sighed. He knew he would pay for every hour his capricious partner had to sleep alone. It would be two very long days and nights. Well. If Izuna lasted. Fortunately, his anger usually fizzled out as quickly as it arose. Hashirama really felt lucky as far as that was concerned. Izuna could be quite vindictive and vengeful towards when he got angry but he almost never could keep his anger up too long if it was about him. To be honest, Hashirama had no qualms about exploiting this.
Appropriately dejected and ashamed, he lowered his head. “I am sorry?”
Izuna snorted dismissively. “Try that later again... and more convincing.”, he growled and turned, vanishing soon between the trees without giving Hashirama a second glance.
Hashirama waited until he was sure Izuna was out of earshot and dropped his feigned dejection for a happy whistle. That hadn't actually gone too badly. He was pretty sure that if he mentioned the use of clones for more erotic activities a few more times, perhaps in a more secluded, private setting, Izuna would realize the benefit and enjoy it very much.
He was already looking forward to it.
🙤🙦
“What's going on here?“
Still fuming because of Hashirama's indecent suggestion (one of oh-so-many, the man was occasionally a perv!) Izuna emerged the forest and approached the gathered men. He immediately caught their wary looks and suppressed his disgust. He knew their faces, all of them had been guilty of child murder in the past. Of course it hadn’t been considered child murder back then, because it had been before Madara had banned child hunting squats. Izuna had been very proud of Madara for stopping that cruel and ancient custom. Some hadn’t been so happy about this, as the excuse of hunting down future enemies had served their tainted urges too well. Izuna's disgust for them could not have been greater, especially since he knew that some of them had not stopped at murdering the children. Rape and any other defilement of their bodies had been always frowned on and punished if detected. Even Tajima, one of the most ruthless leaders the Uchiha Clan had ever had, had exhorted his people to honor a good enemy regardless his age. Yet, it hadn't stopped the dirty dogs, just made them cautious.
In Izuna’s eyes the Uchiha standing in front of him were low-lives, barely more than scum. But they hadn’t gone against Madara’s orders, yet. At least nothing could be proven.
“He provoked us!” One of the men buzzed and clenched his teeth. Izuna looked at him deadpan, then let his eyes wander over the rest of the bunch. They hid their provoking and disgusted looks badly, only averted their gazes when Izuna stared directly into their eyes.
“It is not yours to teach another clan’s children lessons, even if he did so.”, Izuna stated calmly and made a dismissive gesture. “The Uchiha Clan Head will expect you tomorrow at his morning hours. Please appear bar none.” Izuna gave each of them an unhurried once-over to make clear that he would remember every single one of them and then turned away to squat next to the boy who lay curled up in the mud. He felt the piercing glances of his clanmates at his back and knew what they were thinking.
Fag. Soft-hearted wimp. Senju Bitch.
He had heard those muttered insults behind his back a few times over the years now, though only whispered behind his back so far. He experienced those hostile comments far less than he had expected. One of the benefits of not only being one of being a very capable shinobi himself but also being in a relationship with someone everyone called readily ‘God of Shinobi’. Well, after eight years of experience with the whispers and gossips, Izuna gave shit about it. Most of the people didn’t care about who his partner was or not was and those who did… Well, he knew beforehand that not everyone in the Clan felt at ease with homosexuality or specific monogamous homosexual relationships. Especially in his case. His monogamous liaison with another man was a loss for the Clan. He would never have offspring and pass down the genius genes of the Uchiha main family. And with him being in an affair with Senju Hashirama of all men he could choose, it was also a slap in the face for those who considered the Senju still an inferior race. There were only a few of them, but of course scum like the child-murdering gang would look down on him.
They would for any reason.
Like they also looked down on him because he had no Sharingan anymore. Some of the denser clansmen considered him weak, no longer worthy to be called the second strongest after Madara. And maybe they were right, Hikaku had always been a close call and he probably could overpower him in a situation where the Sharingan was a benefit. But although Izuna had always been proud of his skills and still was, it no longer mattered to him whether others saw him as the second, third or fourth strongest or even as a weak cripple. What mattered was that there were enough capable ninja to represent their Clan and protect their village.
No. As long as it didn’t hurt Madara’s or Hashirama’s reputation as Twin-Hokage and Clan Heads, he was fine with anything someone might think about his person. And the conniving muttering of a few scumbags could never damage their Hokages’ reputation; the last years had proven it.
“Are you hurt, boy?”, he asked friendly and touched the boy’s shoulder. The boy curled up a little more but then relaxed and looked up. His nose was bleeding, and he seemed a little bit dizzy. There was a crisscrossed scar on his chin, but it seemed to be older.
“No. I don’t think so.”, the boy muttered and sat up, his eyes warily glued to Izuna. Izuna smiled softly and rose.
“Fine. Then let’s go home. You’re from Shimura Clan, aren’t you? You look like one.”
“Yes… yes! Uchiha-sama is very observant.”
Izuna chuckled and shook his head. “No need to be overly polite. You can call me Izuna, like anyone of your age does. What is your name?”
The boy blushed from head to toe and bowed deeply, his shaggy black hair falling over his eyes in the process.
“Danzō! Shimura Danzō is the name!”
“Fine, Danzō-kun. If you are not injured, let’s get you home to your peers. Tell me how you did get engaged in that brawl.”
The boy adjusted his dirty, light-colored kimono, and followed Izuna without protest. Still Izuna didn’t miss how stiff and reluctant he was and how his gaze went over him again and again. The boy seemed to be quite anxious and Izuna was a little bit irritated by it. The Shimura Clan had joined Konoha about one year ago, so the child should be aware of his reputation as someone who liked children no matter which clan they came from. He visited the Ninja Academy just as often as he visited the civilian school, be it just for fun during their breaks or for lectures about this and that. But to be honest he didn’t remember Danzō from either school.
While walking him towards the village center Izuna didn't get too much out of Danzō about the incident, but enough to deduce that the boy detested Uchiha in general and that he had indeed provoked the men. That wasn’t an excuse for grown up men to beat up a child, anyways. Danzō could only be about nine or ten, a little boy, nothing more. Still, Izuna couldn’t get rid of the feeling that there was more to the whole incident. There was something about the boy, and his barely concealed distrust and loathing of Uchiha puzzled Izuna greatly. The younger children in particular had hardly any serious prejudices against the other clans anymore.
Izuna made a mental note to keep an eye on the boy, just in case that his attitude grew into something worse.
They entered the village through one of the side gates near the Uchiha compound. It was Izuna’s usual route when he returned from his morning training and wanted to see his relatives. The Shimura compound was next to the Sarutobi, so they proceeded further into the inhabited areas of Konoha.
“I was wondering why you are not at the Academy. You seem to be trained and at the right age. Ten?”
“I am eleven. I am too weak for Academy, though. My father said so.”, Danzō sounded overly submissive and dissociated. Izuna frowned. “He doesn’t want to be disgraced by me losing against the other clans’ children.”
“Is that so?”, Izuna muttered and swallowed a lot of snappier words. Even if it might be true that the boy was not strong, the Academy was there to teach them the basics. They pretty much accepted any student capable of molding chakra. There were even a few children with civilian-only background who still made their way through it. The first genin teams that graduated from the Ninja Academy two years ago proved the success. Especially the good ol’ Lizard and his team of baby-lizards. Tobirama’s genin had already made themselves a name and the third in their team was from civilian parents without any ties to any clan.
Anyways, if Danzō’s father didn’t want to send his boy to Academy it was his choice to make. Yet, to shame his son’s abilities and pull him down so severely was something Izuna could only frown at. It also took him by surprise him that Danzō talked so readily about that. The children Izuna knew were very proud and would never admit someone considered them weak. It… sounded wrong. But maybe the boy’s self-esteem was just so smashed that he could bring up no longer the pride to be ashamed of the accuse.
Well. It was neither his son nor a child of his Clan so he could barely do anything at this point that wouldn’t be a severe affront. But he certainly would keep it in mind and look for more evidence. He didn’t like the Shimura Clan too much anyways. Shimura Tadamune, their Leader, was a ruthless, opportunistic schemer, without a thread of loyalty to his name. Izuna still got the shivers when he thought that his own father had been about to marry him off to Tadamune’s sister and unify their clans. Izuna felt dirty as soon as he saw Tadamune and the slimy grin he always directed at him. It had been Hashirama’s decision to allow the Shimura into Konoha and Izuna wasn’t very fond of it at all, even if he had to admit that Hashirama had been the only unbiased in this decision. Madara had the same personal disgust for Tadamune as Izuna. Even worse. Madara had been the one to blow up the marriage contract Tajima had nearly signed.
“Izuna-sama?”, Danzō spoke up after a moment of silence and gave him a sly look. “Is it true that you train with both our honored Hokage?”
“Yes, I do.”
“How do you do it? You have no special abilities, not even a Sharingan.”
Izuna rose his brows and gave Danzō a piercing look. Not only was the little rat's question downright rude, but he was also treading on thin ice. Nobody outside his Clan, except Hashirama, had ever dared to address his Sharingan. Even inside the Clan it was still a sensible topic for all of those who had a minimum of manners. And Hashirama had only asked how he felt about it and never questioned his abilities.
His first impulse was to snap at Danzō for his rudeness, but then he chose against his instincts. It was an occasion to hear more about the boy’s attitude. “Just like anybody else: I train hard and do my best. A lot of ninja don’t have a kekkei genkai and never had.”
“But they are weak, just like me.”
“Bullshit. There are plenty strong ninja without kekkei genkai. Think of Senju Tobirama. Sarutobi Sasuke. Uchiha Tōka. The list is long.”
It felt like a repetition of events. Hadn’t he had a similar discussion with Kagami a few years ago? Why was always Tobirama the prime example for someone strong without a kekkei genkai? … Probably because he was a prime example. Well, except someone considered that genius mind between Tobirama’s ears as a kekkei genkai.
Ugh. It still felt annoying to praise Tobirama’s skills, even after they had made peace with each other. Not that they had any other chances given the fact that Hashirama had declared them almost threateningly to kind of brothers-in-law who needed to get along with each other only a few weeks after Izuna had moved into the Senju compound.
Izuna quickly averted his mind from that distracting topic and watched Danzō carefully. The boy seemed to think about his words for a while and only raised his head when they passed the Sarutobi compound towards the area the Shimura Clan occupied.
“I see.” He mumbled and eyed Izuna skeptically. “Why don’t you just take another one’s Sharingan? It would make you even more powerful!”
“WHAT?”, Izuna blurted sharply, dumfounded by the very idea of such a crime. Danzō seemed not to see the maleficence but shrugged.
“They say Tsuki no Hokage-sama took your eyes before Konoha. Why don’t you take someone other’s eyes? You had been second in your clan, they say. Wouldn’t you deserve it?”
“No. No, I would not at all!”, Izuna stared at the boy, bloody angry about the boy’s audacity. “You don’t take someone’s eyes. Never.”
Izuna was no idiot, he knew there were potential eye thieves, even within Konoha. And even though he had never heard of a non-Clan thief surviving the transplantation of a stolen Sharingan, it was something that could happen. It was more than alarming that a little boy grew such ideas at all.
“I ask you to treat that issue with the utmost respect and never ever entertain such thoughts again. Eye-thievery is one of the worst crimes you can commit. If you ever hear someone entertaining such a thought, tell me.” He frowned darkly. “What do they say exactly about my brother?”
Danzō flinched and lowered his head. “Nothing, Izuna-sama, nothing at all!”
“So, you made it up?”
“No! NO! I… it’s just… some people…. I don’t even know who they were anymore. They said Tsuki no Hokage-sama stole your eyes and that it was Taiyō no Hokage-sama who saved you from dying blind.”
“You shouldn’t listen to people telling lies about any of the Hokage.”, he growled and watched Danzō warily. He didn’t want to talk about the issue outside the Clan and there had never been an official statement towards anyone who did not belong to Uchiha. But of course, he knew that people were whispering about what happened back then. The Senju and the Sarutobi had seen him blind within Konoha’s first year and everyone knew by now that Uchiha Izuna has lost his Sharingan. That was nothing he could hide. Not when he was participating in missions with ninja from other clans. It wasn’t something he wanted to hide, because honestly, he was proud of what he had achieved without his kekkei genkai. He could still play with the big boys, Sharingan or not.
But where whispering was, dirty gossip was naturally not far away. He just wondered how some outsiders concluded that Madara had taken his eyes. Hashirama had confirmed that he only knew because Tobirama had sensed the remaining chakra traces of Izuna in the first days after the transplantation. But that traces were gone for good now and Tobirama was probably the only one sensory skilled enough to feel the chakra difference in freshly transplanted eyes anyways. So nobody outside of the Clan knew enough about the whole issue to think more about it than Izuna had somehow lost his eyes and regained another set. There was no link to Madara, not even for those bold enough to look his brother into his eyes to recognize the changed pattern. Nobody outside of Uchiha.
“My brother didn’t steal my eyes.”, Izuna stated very clear and very determined, “And if you ever repeat that infamous lie to anyone else, Danzō-kun, you will be in serious troubles!” He could feel the anger boiling in his blood, but he had to stay calm to make his point. There was no use in anyone crawling around the village thinking they could get away with stealing Sharingan. Or telling lies about his brother. “I want you to listen to me very carefully: Stop wasting your time thinking about the Sharingan. The only way to gain your own Sharingan is by being born as an Uchiha. Every other attempt will ultimately lead to your death, one way or another. And it will never be a quick, painless death.” He took the boy’s chin and forced him to look up, staring down into his suddenly very cold eyes. Fueled by his rage about that look, Izuna let his charka soar, feeling the satisfying burn of fire in his veins and behind his own eyes. “I can see that you long for power, Shimura Danzō. But you need to learn that you won’t gain any power by lusting after what others have. The only way to true power is hard work and to step up for yourself. Tell your father to let you go to the Academy if you want to become a ninja. Work hard. And forget about the Sharingan. There is neither honor nor prestige in front of the mortals and the kami for a thief.”
Danzō paled as if he had slapped him but Izuna didn’t let escape him for some seconds, stared down into the black eyes that were now only frightened and ashamed.
Then he smiled and gently tousling the boy’s head.
“Do not mind if someone calls you weak, Danzō-kun. The only thing that matters is what you know about yourself.”
He clapped Danzō’s shoulder and pushed him a little bit into the direction of some Shimura women that was eyeing them skeptically. “I think I can leave you alone from here on. I will see that my clanmates will not come back to you about this, but I also ask you to keep your distance from them.”
The boy seemed to be too startled to say or do anything, so he made his bow and sprinted away. Izuna waited till he vanished behind a corner and turned. He should tell Madara and Hashirama about the gossips and about Danzō, just in case. Maybe he should also find out who his father was. The man seemed not to be a dependable one.
Izuna passed the main gates to the Uchiha compound with a deep breath of joy. What difference was the compound now to what it had been eight years ago! The main path that had started as hardly more than a dirt track was paved and the electric lights lined it from the main entrance to their festival place at the lake. There were currently discussions whether it would be a sensible thing to also install those ‘telephones’ the civilians in the capital were so excited about. It certainly came in handy if one hadn’t to run for a medic but could just call for help. Izuna had to admit that he wanted to have that telephone in their village even if it wouldn’t help their people all too much. It was just so interesting how creative the civilians were with their techniques and what they could do without any jutsu or chakra!
“Good morning, Izuna-sama!”, Ume greeted him and stuffed her cheeks with a piece of cake she probably had bought in the Uchiha Bakery. Izuna greeted the kunoichi back and grinned. She had grown up a lot and was no longer the giggling teenage girl that had managed to drag him into a seduction genjutsu so many years ago. And still…
“How do you feel, Ume-chan, so close to becoming old and wrinkly? How many days do you have left?”, he teased and grinned, when a vivid pink colored the young woman’s cheeks.
“You won’t ever let me live down that I called you old back then, will you?”, she sighed and rose two fingers. “Two days. My twenty-fifth birthday is in two days.”
“How unbelievable old.”, Izuna teased her and she laughed. Ume was a good sports and he liked her for it. “How is your fiancé doing?”
“Trying to breathe and not to chicken out.”, she snorted in a very fond way and looked lovingly down at the engagement ring on her finger. The ring-thing was a new trend Izuna had observed growing the last few years. It wasn’t exactly traditional to exchange rings for a wedding among their Clan. That idea had swapped over from the capital, obviously something foreign visitors from overseas had brought with them. Ume seemed to be very proud of her ring and so he humored her by mentioning it.
“Ah, he’ll get used to the idea of becoming a husband. At least he has gifted you with an appropriate sparkly adoration matching your beauty.”
Well, there she was back, the giggling teenage girl he had once known, and Izuna clapped his own shoulder inwardly. He had become quite talented with compliments!
“It is really a pretty thing, but so useless. I already scolded him for paying so much money for something useless and shiny.”, Ume tried to play the reasonable future wife, but Izuna thought that her fiancé had invested just into the right thing judging by her face. They were a good match for each other.
“I am sure he had his very well-founded reasons.”, he smiled and signaled a little bow into her direction with a wink. “I’ll leave you to your birthday misery now, Ume-chan. I have a few girls more to flirt with today.”
“Just try not to spoil them rotten.”
Well. He could certainly not promise that. It felt more like his personal life task to spoil those special girls into eternity. Spoiling was a fine cue anyways. He would equip himself with some sweets from the bakery. He knew how the little witches loved sweets.
After his very successful raid on the bakery Izuna strolled deeper into his Clan’s compound and headed for his brother’s house. The path there still felt like the way home, even though he had moved to the Senju Compound eight years ago. But Madara had kept his promise from back then: Izuna was always welcome, be it for a visit or for an extended stay when Hashirama was out of the village for a few days and Izuna felt lonely. His sweet, crazy, considerate brother had even made a room especially for Izuna when he expanded the little house, so Izuna had no excuse not to spend the night with him.
Izuna chuckled.
Madara’s idea of a home had always been very small and sparse, but Mito had had something a little more spacious in mind. Madara’s home was still not like the mansions some of the other Clan Heads owned but of a less modest size, with a room for each child, a proper living room, a working space for Mito and several guest rooms for Izuna and Mito’s family. The house wore very clearly her handwriting, well maintained on the outside and the inside, and nicely decorated. It had been a nice surprise when Izuna visited his former home a few days after Madara’s and Mito’s wedding. Their previously spartan furnishings had been already upgraded and there had been even pictures on the wall and decorative vases in tastefully chosen places. Over the years those very elegant decorations had become mixed up with things that belonged to the children and so between ornamental vases and ikebana decorations wooden toys, tiny training weapons, lost hair bows and even one or another stuffed animal and the twins’ dolls had popped up.
Izuna loved his brother's house just as much as his own, where Hashirama's endless love of knick-knacks and an insane number of houseplants added to the charm.
When Izuna reached Madara’s and Mito’s home, he didn’t bother to knock at the front door. Instead, he followed the miserable wailing to the back of the house. Madara sat on the porch, legs dangling over the edge, and patted patiently his daughters back with a softly muttered “I know, I know.”. Nozomi hung in a perfect display of little girl’s dramatics over his lap, tiny fists clutched in her father’s kimono and cried as if the heavens would come down at any moment. Rather unimpressed, her twin-sister Akako stood behind Madara and adored her father’s hair with hairpins and bows. It looked ridiculous but was nothing Izuna hadn’t seen before. He had even been the victim of similar embellishment campaigns on several occasions. The prices one paid to stay his nieces’ favorite uncle!
Izuna watched the little scenery for a while. He had been so right, Madara was a great father. All the love his brother had always kept carefully tucked away just spilled out as soon as his wife and his children were around. It was pretty cute to watch, and even though Madara often seemed to be sleep-deprived between his duties as Clan Head and Hokage and his life as a father of very loud and active children, no one could call him a bitter warlord anymore. Everything was just as it had to be.
Izuna walked quietly across the veranda and kissed Akako's head. She barely noticed his arrival, too engrossed in her dress-up game. Izuna chuckled and sat down next to Madara, who was still caressing Nozomi's back. At least she was calming down. A bit.
“What is this about?”
“We are mourning the fact that I only have one head and she doesn’t want to share.”
“Oh, how inconsiderate of you.”
“True. I never thought that one day my biggest shortcoming would be that I only have one head to dress up.”
“You could try to grow a second one.”
“I offered her that she could have a clone, but that is obviously not the real deal.”
“It is no fun if you have no bald spots afterwards.”
“Exactly.”, Madara answered dryly and scooped his daughter up into a sitting position, “Now come on, Nozomi-chan. You have cried quite a lot now, if you continue you will miss your opportunity to braid Uncle Izuna’s ponytail.”
While Izuna made his fake protests, because of course he would allow his precious niece to braid his hair, Madara dried his sniffling daughter’s tears with his sleeve and gave her a smacking kiss on the forehead. “Now, that is my girl. You’re okay now, little witch?”
“Hmm-hmmm.”, Nozomi made, still a bit teary but not crying anymore. Instead, she turned to Izuna and gave him a once-over. “May I braid The Ponytail, Oji-chan?”
“If you don’t try to cut it again…”, Izuna sighed and soon he had a happy little girl tugging and tearing on his hair. He would later carry every lost long strand of hair home and ask Hashirama to have a funeral for them. At this rate he would be the one with bald spots. His ponytail had thinned over the last years anyways. Something Izuna rejected to blame on being thirty-three but on his partner’s and his nieces’ incorrigible fondness of braids. He’d need to find someone he could blame for the gray hair he had found this morning over his right temple. Probably Hashirama, with his horny antics. Well, he liked the horny antics most of the time and he liked especially how persistent Hashirama tried to convince him of them, but they were still annoying at times. And useful for blaming him to cause gray hairs.
“How’s Mito?”
“Up and running. Literally. You wouldn't think she was a woman in her thirties who just gave birth to her fourth child this week.”
“Ah, the legendary Uzumaki health.”
“That legendary Uzumaki health drives me crazy. Did you know her mother was fourty-three when she gave birth to Mito’s youngest brother?”
“Oh, wow. That’s pretty old for having a child, I guess.”, Izuna whistled impressed, even if he had no idea, and then snickered. “At this rate you either need separate bedrooms the next few years or get accustomed to the idea of having a few more witches and warlocks. Speaking of… how does the freshly delivered warlock do?”
“Han-chan's behavior is exemplary. He only woke us twice that night and he has a healthy appetite and a good, strong grip.”, Madara bragged, “He’ll certainly grow fast into a strong boy!”
“I had no doubt about that.”, Izuna chuckled and took Madara’s hand. He knew that Madara adored his daughters and loved them dearly. But he also knew that Madara had hoped for a son, too. Well, Mito too, because she wanted a ‘proper mix’ for the ‘full experience’.
“Han-chan has grabbed my finger and held it!”, Nozomi told Izuna from behind and pulled at his hair in an attempt to reach the bowl with hairbands on the other side of Madara. Izuna needed all of his battle-hardened self-control not to cry out loud. Ruthless girl! “He is a real strong brother! But I’ll protect him when he comes to the Academy anyways!”
“As an older sister does.”, Izuna confirmed and curled his hand around the base of his ponytail to avoid more ripping. “How is Academy going?”
“It’s boring."
“Yeeah…”, Nozomi agreed to her sister in an old woman’s sigh, while Akako snorted.
“Nozomi-chan got retention, because she used fireball jutsu at the Academy’s ground.”, Akako tattled and wrapped her tiny arms around Madara’s neck. “Papa, you’re pretty now!”
“Am I now? Thank you very much. What would I have done without you, my little witch?”
“You’d be ugly, Papa.”, Akako stated with the most serious voice a five-year-old could manage and scurried into the house to fetch a mirror. Izuna grinned at Madara.
“She got you really well. I especially like the little yellow bows!”
“I can give you those, too, Oji-chan!”, Nozomi chimed in quite happy, “We have plenty!”
“I am SO lucky! Give me every yellow bow you have. And maybe a pink one, too. I feel a lot like pink and yellow today!”, Izuna swooned exaggeratedly, “But maybe you want to give your Mama the box from the bakery, first. Tell her it’s a special present!”
“What’s in it?”, the little girl scrunched her nose, obviously thinking about if she wanted to do like he had told her or not.
“Cakes. Her favorite!”
“Eeewh… green cake!”, Nozomi sighed but rushed inside with the cake box anyways, well knowing that if Uncle Izuna brought some cake for her mother there would be also cake for her.
“You know Mito only likes the Matcha Cake because it’s the only variation the girls don’t inhale as if they were starving?”, Madara grinned and pulled a strand of his hair over his shoulder. His face fell in earnest when he found the strand not only braided but severely knotted with a bright red cord.
“I know. That's why the box has a secret stash of some of the things she really likes. And you. If you let the witches find it, I'm not the one to blame.”
“Really considerate of you, little brother.”, Madara sighed and tried unsuccessfully to unknot his hair. With a displeased grunt he gave up and pulled a kunai out from under his kimono to cut off the hair. Izuna pushed the blade aside and helped to untangle Madara’s long strands from the ribbons and cords and bows and the other little trinkets Akako had woven into it. “Thank you.”, Madara exhaled and unbraided another section, “I need to go to the Hokage Tower, we have a meeting in about fifteen minutes. Tobirama wants to introduce his idea about a chūnin test. Would you mind staying for a while and keeping an eye on Mito? She is well enough, but the twins are already a handful on normal days and today they are a little bit cranky. They were worried tonight when they heard Han-chan crying. It took me a while to get them back to sleep.”
“Twenty ryō they didn’t end in their beds but in yours.”
“Hashirama’s bad gambling habit does rub off, doesn’t it?”
“Don't avoid the question.”
Madara smiled tiredly and Izuna know that he was right. In fact, it was a wonder that Madara and Mito had managed to have their baby, given the fact that the twins slept more often in their parents’ bed than their own. Precisely in their father’s half. Both were real daddy's girls and extremely clingy.
“Where’s Nojiriko, anyways?”, Izuna asked after a while and removed the last bow before he took the comb and carefully untangled what was left of his brother’s mane. It was shorter these days, only barely over his shoulders. Madara claimed that he saved time washing and drying it, but Izuna secretly thought that it was because he was just too lazy to remove knots and cut them all the time instead.
“I'll give you one guess.”
“At Hikaku’s with the other two brats?”
“Yes. I understand that she loves her cousin and they are nearly the same age, but I don’t get why she is so fond of that Senju girl.”
“Hanako-chan is the only blessing Tobirama has ever created.”
“She's an exact copy of him!”
“And Nojiriko is yours. Which makes their whole friendship rather funny,” Izuna giggled and inconspicuously left one of the little yellow bows into Madara's hair, right in the center. Akako was right, it looked very nice on him. Even with the silver strands accumulating in the black mass. “Are you hiding a secret fondness for lizards from me, dear brother?”
Madara only grunted as an answer and rose. Well, there wasn’t to say anything more. And it was cute. Nojiriko was so obviously Madara’s daughter, sometimes Izuna accused his brother of spawning her by planting his hair in a pot. (“Mito was very well involved, I can even tell you the position, if you need to know, Izuna.” - “Geez, spare me the nightmares!”) She resembled her father not only in looks but also in a lot of character traits: A proud volcano-like temperament, a loving heart full of lofty dreams and a sense of duty that was quite ridiculous for a seven-year-old. There was no doubt that she was aware of her being the heiress to Uchiha. She followed Madara whenever she could, claiming that she needed to learn how a proper Clan Head had to act.
“Anyways…”, Izuna picked up the question from before, “I can stay for a while, of course. But I have to go to the Tower myself in the afternoon. The Elders need just as much coaxing about the telephone lines as about the electric lights.”
“They are Elders, what do you expect? They need coaxing about anything that is not their idea.”, Madara grunted, “Never mind, though. I paid for a D-Rank babysitting mission for the afternoon, the team will come over later.”
“They will hate you so much. The twins are hardly a D-Rank.”
“Life sucks.”, Madara grinned, “And don’t forget the honor to look after the Hokage’s daughters.”
“Ah… yes. The honor. I do it for the honor only, don’t I?”, Izuna grinned back.
“I am quite certain you’ll have a conspiratory morning with my wife and daughters and find a way to make me regret that I asked you.”
“I told you the pepper in your dango was an accident!”, Izuna lied and rose to follow Madara inside the house, where Mito and the girls had their noses in the bakery box. “Careful, dumpling! You might accidently inhale the cake!”
“Shut up, pony!”, Mito snapped back without looking and put two pieces of cake onto two plates, “Go to the living room and sit down there to eat, girls. Hands are washed?”
“Yes, Mama!”, both girls grinned and weaseled away, while Izuna brushed his knuckles against Mito’s cheek in their typical greeting and received a sisterly kiss on his cheek for it.
“Are you okay? How’s the warlock doing?”
“I am okay and Han-chan is fine.”, Mito sung and carefully unbound the baby sling from her chest. After providing uncle duties to three other babies, Izuna had no problem to receive his nephew. Proudly he cupped the newborn in his arm and grinned into tiny, wrinkled face.
He loved his live, he had everything he could ever wish for. A peaceful village, a healthy Clan and Madara was more popular than ever and finally received the love and respect he deserved. He was the uncle of four incredible sweet children and had his own nice home with a partner he adored and who loved him.
It was almost too wonderful to be true.