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Chapter Text

Madara heard Izuna’s cry of pain, and spun away from Hashirama, already moving to intercept the pale demon, hoping to cut him down. But Tobirama was faster, dodging away from Madara’s fallen brother, moving towards Hashirama who was barreling towards them.

Before anyone else could speak, Madara was crouched over Izuna, roaring at Tobirama, “I swear I’ll kill you, you bastard!”
He was about to crouch down to gather Izuna in his arms when he realized his chest was glowing. Faltering, he tilted his head further down, taking in the sight. Right over his heart, a golden orb pulsed, sinking into the fabric of his shirt. Into his skin and bones. A vow! Chills ran down his spine as the reason for this sank in, and he looked up again, staring at the Senju Demon—his soulmate. Whom he had just vowed to kill.

Tobirama’s expression was closed off, a blank slate, but Hashirama’s features twisted in horrified realization. He moved to block Tobirama from Madara’s line of sight, breaking Madara from his shock. Right now there was nothing he could do about this. And Izuna needed medical aid.

Feeling numb, Madara scooped up Izuna and called for retreat. Hikaku and Hinote covered their backs.

⁂

Hashirama ran behind all his clan-mates, carrying one of the more injured ones, but all his focus was on Tobirama, worrying how he was holding up. Finding out not only who your soulmate was, but that they wanted you dead… A knot formed in Hashirama’s chest. He knew he had been lucky. Coming to Uzushio to meet with Tobirama who had been sent there to learn sealing, and then more or less bumping into his own soulmate on the first day, with such an innocuous vow as “I promise, I’m not this clumsy usually.”… Well, there were few ways it could have gone better for him.

Although, the disastrous way Tobirama had learned who his was would also affect Hashirama. Would affect all of the Senju. With Madara now being driven to fulfill his vow, any chance of peace between their clans was gone. There was no way Hashirama would ever allow Madara near his otouto after this. No, for all that Hashirama had valued his friendship with Madara, and would grieve his inevitable descent into madness, he was not about to sacrifice his last brother to save Madara.

However, the Uchiha clan as a whole would not wish to see their clan head go insane. They would probably go to extreme lengths to try to acquire Tobirama so that Madara could fulfill his vow. After all, as long as Madara made the final stab, Tobirama could be mangled and already dying by the time he was brought before the Uchiha clan head, and the vow would still count as fulfilled.

No, after this, there was no longer any hope for peace. Only escalation lay ahead.

Unless… Hashirama looked up as they entered the Senju settlement through the main gate. Standing outside the healers’ house was his wife. Mito. Who had left her home on Uzushio to join his household.

Uzushio, which was a large island, protected on all sides by whirlpools and treacherous waters, further weaponized with the application of seals. A safe haven.

Handing the injured clansman over to the healers, Hashirama snagged Tobirama’s sleeve. “We’re moving.”
His brother spun around, the blank facade cracking, turning into confusion. “What?”
Hashirama nodded his head towards Mito. “We’re moving the entire clan to Uzushio. There’s never going to be peace with the Uchiha. Not now. So, we’re going to pack up everything we can into sealing scrolls and set out towards Uzushio at the earliest possible chance. If they are so desperate for this stretch of forest, they can have it. We’ve already dug out any metal worth getting, and I’m not risking your life over a bunch of trees that I can replicate anywhere. So, we’re going to pack up and leave.”

Tobirama was quiet for a long moment, then he bowed his head. “Very well. I’ll clean up, then I’ll start producing sealing scrolls. Aneue can help me if you don’t need her for anything else today?”
Hashirama shook his head. “No, I’m going to help the healers first. Tomorrow, I’ll call a meeting and announce it to the clan. We’re going to need to send out messages to anyone away on missions, and we’ll have to reach out to Mito’s father, to secure land to settle on.”

Grabbing Hashirama’s arm and giving it a squeeze, Tobirama gave him a weak smile. “Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. Uzushio has a lot of valleys that are uninhabited. Plenty of fertile land that can be farmed. And with your marriage to Mito, we might even be elevated to nobility there. Who knows, in a century, this move might be hailed as the single most brilliant tactical decision our clan has ever made.”

Squeezing Tobirama’s arm back, Hashirama gave him a faintly hopeful smile back. “We can only hope.”

⁂

Pacing inside the healing hall, Madara watched the healers working on Izuna. The cut had been surprisingly clean, but it had done a lot of damage. Even with their Sharingan active, the healers were struggling to piece everything back together in the correct way. They had managed the major blood-vessels, which reduced the likelihood that Izuna would bleed out, but nerves and ligaments proved a different kind of challenge.

All Madara could do at this point was wait and pray, which he did. Mainly to avoid having to face the Elders and the rest of his clan. He had already seen how some looked at him with a mix of pity and anger. As the rumors spread throughout the clan, the reactions would grow worse.

Running a hand angrily through his hair, Madara gritted his teeth. It was all so unfair! The Elders were the ones who had taught Madara that the Senju could not be trusted. They were the ones who had pushed for them to keep their aggressive stance, to not trust Hashirama’s offers of peace even after both Tajima and Senju Butsuma were dead. The Elders were the ones who had insisted that the only good Senju was a dead Senju. And yet… Soulmates were sacred!

Madara already knew what the Elders would say. How they would act all horrified and judgmental, blaming him for making such a vow. As if they had not been the driving force behind his anger. As if they had not made similar vows in the past with no repercussions because they had found their own soulmates in clan, or allies, or even among civilians. It was only Madara who was unfortunate enough to find his among enemies. And not only an enemy, but a Senju. Their ancestral enemy, the feud passed down through generations like a demented heirloom.

A whimper from Izuna snapped Madara out of his spiral, and his eyes fixated on his brother’s face, pale and shining with sweat, eyelashes trembling.

Madara already knew Izuna would live. His brother was a fighter, and with the bleeding all but stopped, the immediate danger was over. However, what was still in the balance was whether or not Izuna would be able to walk normally or if he would be left a cripple.

⁂

Seated quietly beside Mito, Tobirama’s brush danced across the paper, a seal blooming out from the center, sinking into the paper. As soon as the scroll was ready to receive cargo, he placed it aside, grabbing a blank paper. If they really were to pack as much as they could carry, they would need many scrolls. Probably the entirety of their stockpile of sealing paper. Good thing that he was not alone in doing this. Mito was as fast as him, if not faster, and together they made good time.

Outside he could hear the noises of carpentry and the occasional shout as someone threw things down from the rooftops. The buildings were being dismantled, to be packed up and rebuilt when they arrived in their new location. If they had had more time, he and Mito might have been able to come up with a seal that would allow them to seal the houses as they were, but… That would take time they might not have. According to their scouts, the Uchiha settlement was a hive of activity. The general consensus was that they were contacting their allies to gather up a force for an all out attack, to get to Tobirama.

He had offered to go ahead to Uzushio, to pull the Uchiha’s attention away from the Senju settlement, but Hashirama had put his foot down, saying that he could not condone such an action. Not as long as they still did not know how far the rumors had spread. With the speed of shinobi, any clan nearby might already be aware of what had happened during the last battle, and if any of them wanted to buy goodwill from the Uchiha… Well, Hashirama was not willing to risk it.

However, Tobirama had come up with a solution to one of the problems. Civilians could not move as fast as shinobi, especially the elderly and the very young, so they would either slow the whole group down, or… Tobirama would play ferry, using his new technique. The plan was for half the Senju’s shinobi to move out under cover of darkness, then run for six hours before they put up camp. As soon as they were secure, one of them would channel a little chakra into Tobirama’s seal on one of his marked kunai, and he would start to hop between that seal and one he had placed in the main square, bringing along as many as he could in each jump. Hopefully he would be able to bring them all in one night, especially if Hashirama could give him chakra transfers.

Then he would stay with the camp while the remaining shinobi moved after them, leaving the settlement just an empty shell, anything useful beyond the palisade stripped down and carried with them. Hopefully they could do all this without the Uchiha realizing. If they were really gathering a force, it would take time to get them all to the Uchiha settlement.

Still, the Senju didn’t count on much time, the able-bodied ones working through most of the night.

⁂

Madara despaired. He could already feel the pull of his vow, urging him to fulfill it no matter how much he was fighting against it.

As he had predicted, the Elders acted all aghast at his careless disregard for how sacred soulmates were. As if he had known beforehand. As if there had ever been a chance for a happy outcome with Tobirama being who he was. No, Madara had scoffed at the Elders, calling them hypocrites who had only the week before urged him to wipe the Senju off the face of the Earth.

Elder Umeko, who had been silent up till then, flicked open her fan and closed her eyes. “If you succeed, Amaterasu will surely punish us, but if you do not… We have all heard the stories, about soulmate vows gone wrong, and how the pull will eventually drive the oath-breaker insane. Madara-sama… You know what you need to do.”

In her defense, she looked genuinely heartbroken about it. And Madara knew she was right. The pull would eat at him, forcing him to act to fulfill it, to the detriment of all else in his life. There was no way he could continue as clan head. He would end up betraying his clan if he did.

However, with Izuna still in the healers’ care, his future as a shinobi uncertain, he could not take on the mantle of clan head. Which left Madara with few options. The most palatable one of them was Hikaku. As Tajima’s nephew from his younger brother, he was close enough in blood that nobody in the clan could object. He was also loyal enough that if it turned out Izuna recovered fully, Hikaku would step aside and allow him to take up the mantle.

The whole transfer of power was an almost ridiculously formal affair for all that it took just an hour all in all. Then Madara started to pack his things. As he resisted his vow, he would become increasingly erratic. It was best that he had everything ready for the day that he would need to depart, since that could end up being rather sudden. But until then, he would try his best to find a solution.

Madara locked himself inside his old rooms in the main family house, leaving Tajima’s old rooms to Hikaku. Then he buried himself in research.

Everyone in the clan that had contacts outside, reached out to them for anything that might hold a clue to a way to save Madara’s sanity. Favors were called in and friendships were appealed to. Messengers went out and returned at all hours of the day.

In all this, all thoughts of attacking the Senju had faded. It helped that there were no sightings of them. However, after a few weeks of this, someone finally started to wonder—Shouldn’t they have seen at least one Senju going to or from a mission? Shouldn’t someone have encountered one of the Senju on a supply-run to one of the trading stations? Shouldn’t there have been some kind of signs that the Senju still existed?

One of the larger bird summons were dispatched to see what the Senju were up to. When it reported back, the whole clan gathered in the main square. “Gone? As in, their settlement is empty?”
“No, as in even the houses are gone. It’s just the wall left and a few holes in the ground. Everything else has vanished.”

A pair of scouts were sent out to confirm this, and when they returned, corroborating what the summon had reported, a larger group were sent out. The mood in the clan was mixed and mostly ambivalent and confused. A few grinned and said good riddance, but were quickly shushed by others who threw glances towards the main house. If Madara’s soulmate had disappeared, his fate was sealed. He would follow in the footsteps of their ancestor, rumored to have sworn to his soulmate that he would kill his own brother, and then have failed to do so, going insane as the vow ate at him.

Hikaku ordered a group of experienced scouts to find any hint of where the Senju had gone to, then he approached Madara, to let him know the latest development.

⁂

The journey to Uzushio had gone far smoother than anyone could have expected. The last stretch was on ships sent by Mito’s father, and then they were granted land in one of the unsettled valleys. It was as predicted—the soil was fertile, the sea was teeming with fish, and the island was large enough that there was still plenty of hunting to be had.

The settlement was put up in record time since they already had everything they needed, and Hashirama could provide scaffolding at a moment’s notice. After less than a week, it looked like they had lived there for years.

Seated beside his brother on the new pier Hashirama had constructed, Tobirama dangled his feet in the crystal clear water. “To be honest, this is nice.”
Leaning back on his hands, Hashirama tilted his head up at the sun. “It is.”
He glanced over his shoulder, at the forest beyond their little village. “It’s similar enough to home that I don’t feel lost, but being so close to the sea… It will take some time to adjust, but at this point… I’m sure we’ll manage.”

Then he grinned at someone out of Tobirama’s view. “Also, I think Mito is happy to be closer to her family.”
“Good.” Tobirama laid down on the warm wood, staring up at the blue sky above. This really was a little piece of paradise.

⁂

“They have moved to Uzushio. My sources are sure. They witnessed the entire Senju clan board Uzushio ships and they did not return. A trader friend of theirs with connections in Uzushio confirmed it.”

Hikaku exchanged a look with Madara. Uzushio was far away. It truly sounded like the Senju had given up their ancestral lands. What did that mean for the Uchiha? Hikaku might be more pessimistic than most of the clan, but he was not convinced it was a purely good thing. Time would tell who was right.

⁂

When Madara realized how he could solve his problem, he leaned his head on his desk, exhaling slowly. It could work. It would be a very tricky thing, and timing was essential, but… he had the Sharingan. He was the best shinobi the Uchiha had produced in centuries. If anyone could pull this off, it would be him. All he had to do was stop Tobirama’s heart, then immediately restart it, effectively fulfilling the vow to the letter if not the spirit, and not actually leaving his soulmate dead.

The only problem that remained was… How would he get close enough to actually do it?

With the Senju in Uzushio, getting close was difficult, and even if he managed to do the crossing, he had no idea where they might be living on the island. Then there was the matter of Hashirama. If he caught sight of Madara, there was no telling what he might do.

Still, having half a plan was better than none. Especially as it somehow seemed to appease the vow a little. If he could buy himself time by working steadily towards a solution…? Though, that meant that he would actually need to be doing something. Simply sitting around and thinking could not work forever. Besides, he should probably attempt to overcome the first hurdle while he was thinking about the next step.

Which meant Madara needed to go to Uzushio.

He spent a day saying goodbye to his clan, forbidding Izuna from trying to follow him. Then he grabbed his backpack, sealed his gunbai into a scroll strapped to his thigh, and walked out of the settlement, not knowing if he would ever see any of his relatives again.

⁂

It had taken less than a day before Izuna was carried back into the healing halls, his stitches torn. Hikaku was calling him an idiot in twenty different ways, but in the back of his mind he thought he himself was an idiot too. He should have predicted this. When had Izuna ever truly listened to Madara? When had he ever listened to anyone? Izuna always thought he knew best. Well, maybe now he would learn to listen? Healer Kaen was working hard to stitch everything back together, but if Hikaku understood him right, by tearing his stitches, Izuna had further frayed things that should not be frayed. He had made it harder to recover from the injury Tobirama had inflicted on him. Kaen was no longer sure if Izuna’s leg would heal all the way.

Hikaku was not sure if Izuna truly grasped the implications of that, but at least it looked like he finally accepted that he just couldn’t go after Madara.

Leaving his cousin in the care of the healers, Hikaku went to his office to go over reports. It had now been many weeks since their last battle with the Senju. Most of the injured from then had recovered enough to be sent on missions, but Izuna and Masada would need more time. However, with the Senju gone… Hikaku could spare more shinobi for missions since he could reduce the patrols a little. Maybe by the time winter rolled around they would actually have filled their stores for once? It would be a nice change.

Chapter Text

Wearing a disguise, Madara had managed to slip onto a ship by placing a trader in genjutsu, having the man claim him as a guard. As soon as they set foot in the harbor in Uzushio, Madara slipped away, changing his disguise.

Having to be careful, it took him over a week to find someone who knew where the Senju had moved to, but once he had a direction, he followed the road out of the capital. Since he had no idea about the defenses surrounding the new settlement, he had to move slowly, always keeping an eye out. It took half a day before he saw someone up ahead on the road. Someone he recognized. One of the Senju shinobi, carrying a basket full of scroll-cases on his back, heading towards the capital.

Madara quickly hid in the underbrush, watching the man walk past. Pleased with the sign that he was heading in the right direction, Madara kept walking. Until he came to a narrow pass between two high cliffs. There was a guard-post there, and the mountain-sides immediately around it had been cleared of any vegetation, making scaling it an impossible way in without being detected. No, if he wanted to get in without every Senju being aware of it, he had to find another route. Maybe by sea?

Madara spent a few days in the forest outside the Senju’s valley, observing and trying to map out as much as he could with his sensing without cluing the Senju sensors in on what he was doing. Then he returned to the capital, set on finding himself a boat.

That turned out to be harder than anticipated. Every little boat in the harbor was covered in seals, and Madara didn’t know what half of them did. He was however willing to bet that at least some were meant to deter thieves.

Simply going to buy a boat was also a bit tricky, since it might give rise to unfortunate questions given that he had no identifying papers he could use here.

Feeling stuck, Madara took a room at a shady inn, returning to mentally searching for a solution. The vow started to gnaw at his mind again. It seemed it did not approve of his apparent inactivity.

He was losing track of time, days blending into each other, his own mind betraying him more often than not, and his disguise was no longer a problem since he had stopped shaving. A scruffy beard covered his chin, and with how seldom he brushed his hair, Madara had given up and simply tied his hair into a big knot on top of his head. Dressed in workman's clothes because the Uchiha outfit stood out too much, Madara could have been any random Uzushio fisherman down on his luck.

In a sudden reversal of fortune, this was what saved him one day when he was ambling along a street, looking for breakfast or lunch or whatever was appropriate for the time of day. He had stopped by a cart, staring at the squid on the grill when he heard a familiar voice. Freezing, he glanced out of the corner of his eye. It was Hashirama, and beside him, Tobirama.

Seeing his soulmate again, something inside Madara tensed up, like a spring-loaded trap. If he had not had the self-discipline his teachers had beaten into him as a child, he might have obeyed the vow, lashing out at Tobirama. However, Madara, no matter how crazy he had become, was still one of the best shinobi Land of Fire had produced in centuries. He would not allow his instincts to rule him.

Instead, he bought three sticks of grilled fish and carefully walked along after the two Senju, observing them.

Hashirama was questioning Tobirama about some decision of his. One that had to do with sealing. Pausing to eat one of the fishes as the brothers perused a stall that sold spices, Madara took in the sight of Tobirama, for the first time since the revelation of their connection wondering why the universe thought they would complement each other.

Hashirama’s younger brother was nearly as tall as him. Certainly a bit taller than Madara. He also had broad shoulders and narrow hips. An appealing shape. The face was a bit fox-like, with narrow eyes that crinkled when he smiled at Hashirama. It was actually kind of cute.

Madara didn’t need to question why he had never noticed that before. After all, in every instance he had faced the younger man, Tobirama had been either stone-faced, or sneering at him. They had never really had a chance, had they? Doomed before they even were born.

Except, that was not true, was it? Hashirama had been trying for years to get Madara to accept a truce. Had never given up the hope that they might one day have their shared village. It was Madara himself that had doomed his relationship with his soulmate. Now all he could hope for was to salvage his sanity.

Following the Senju brothers through the streets of Uzushio, he learned that Tobirama was searching for more information on sealing, hoping to be able to support his clan through that since he was benched from doing missions. It did not take a genius to realize why he was. Yet another way that Madara had wronged his soulmate.

The vow was still pushing Madara to act, but it was more of a persistent itch at the back of his mind now, subsumed underneath his newfound interest in Tobirama. Madara longed to be able to activate his Sharingan, to capture all the different expressions on his soulmate’s face, but he knew that both Tobirama and Hashirama would sense it if he did, so he had to settle for memorizing it as best he could without the aid of his kekkei genkai.

Madara was half tempted to just rush over and beg Hashirama to let him try his solution, but he assumed that would end with him dead before he got a single word out.

Then he overheard Hashirama telling Tobirama, “You can get the rest another day. If we don’t depart now, Mito will be upset with me for being late for dinner.”
There was a heartfelt sigh, then Tobirama agreed. “Fine. But only because she’s cooking today.” Hashirama smirked, but then Tobirama added, “I will hold you to it though. Being cooped up in the settlement with nothing new to read or work on is not good for my brain. It will start to deteriorate if I don’t use it.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll take you back here soon. Now, race you back home?”
“You are such a child.”
“Does that mean… Hey! That’s cheating!” The two brothers disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Left behind stood Madara, still clenching the empty food sticks. Tobirama would be back to search for more reading material, and by then, Madara should be ready.

⁂

The time since the Senju disappeared had been the calmest and most productive days for the Uchiha clan since before anyone could remember. It had slowly but steadily brought home even to the most staunch opposition that constant war was a serious drain on their coffers. The ones who had already been for peace were now snidely pointing out that they could have had this for years if other people had just been a bit more willing to take a leap of faith. Some even took to speculating out loud how much more prosperous the clan could have been if they had not needed to waste so much resources on constant healing of their shinobi, or repairing weapons and armor, or losing out on missions because they were undercut by the Senju or losing out on more pay because they undercut the Senju.

All of this meant that tensions were a bit high. Nothing worse than a few loud arguments and people refusing to visit with relatives that held an opposing view, but still… Hikaku wished they could have been more unified in this. Especially since he worried for their reputation outside the clan. With Madara gone, Izuna all but crippled after his stupid attempt at following Madara, and all that empty land just sitting there next to their holdings, the scouts had caught sight of people sniffing around at the edges of their land. Shinobi they had not recognized immediately, suggesting covert operations.

Wouldn’t it be ironic if, when at last they were no longer fighting against the Senju, the Uchiha came under siege by other clans? It was not unthinkable. The Uchiha had a reputation as fearsome and strong, but that was a double-edged blade. When their forces were no longer pointed towards the Senju, would the other clans worry they might turn on them? Could that lead to lesser clans banding together to strike at the Uchiha before they could turn their eyes outward? To preemptively eliminate the perceived threat? Unfortunately, some signs were absolutely pointing in that direction.

The clan ninneko had caught the scent of ninken, suggesting Inuzuka had passed through. The crow summons had caught bugs that behaved unusually, suggesting the presence of Aburame. Prey animals were more wary of shadows, suggesting they had been exposed to Nara presences. In itself, all these little things were not alarming news. It happened that shinobi passed through lands belonging to other clans while on a mission. However, there were just so many of these little things happening now that it looked less and less like random chance.

Hikaku ordered security tightened around the settlement and had their spymaster reach out to all his sources. The information that trickled back was not reassuring. The Hagoromo had stopped taking new missions, finishing up the ones they already had, then heading back home at high speeds. The only reason why they might do so was if they planned something that required a large force of able-bodied shinobi.

The Nara had been a bit more circumspect in their actions, but once one looked closer, it became clear that the missions they were still accepting were easy ones. The kind you sent fresh shinobi on so that they could acquire experience in a safe-ish environment. None that required their more skilled shinobi, suggesting they too were planning something big. And where the Nara went, so did the Yamanaka and the Akimichi.

Hikaku’s stress-levels were rising. Their settlement was well fortified, and eminently defensible, but… They did not have unlimited stores of food, and their supply of water was a tributary from the Naka. It would be easy for someone like the Hagoromo to poison it. If it came to an extended siege, the Uchiha would lose.

It looked like the Senju, by simply walking away from the war, would be winning after all.

Pressing the tips of his fingers against his temples, Hikaku looked down at the list containing all the supplies they had managed to secure. It was meant to help them through the winter, but… If they had to dig into it already…

He could set the workmen to crafting pots to secure a store of pure water, but… that would only be a way to draw a potential siege out. It would not help with their lack of food. Any forces outside could set up supply-lines, keeping their shinobi warm, well fed, and in high spirits. The Uchiha would be trapped like mice in a well, succumbing one by one.

Cursing Madara for his ill-thought-out vow, Hikaku called for a general meeting, laying out the facts as they were.

“We can’t win this. Even if we could secure more food, something that seems unlikely given how many of our shinobi that have lately had trouble buying things in the nearby trading-stations, we would not be able to secure enough to last us through the rest of the autumn and all of winter.” Even as he said it, he realized that the sudden dearth of goods nearby had to have been part of the other clans’ plans to weaken the Uchiha’s position. They had to have started plotting the moment news of the Senju’s disappearance reached them. No, they had to have had plans already in place, just in case either the Uchiha or the Senju ever got the upper hand. The winner would have been attacked no matter who it was.

It looked more and more like the Senju’s decision to abandon Land of Fire altogether had been a brilliant move. Not only had they avoided the possible repercussions they would have faced if they had won against the Uchiha, but in a way they had won. The previously secure alliances the Uchiha had thought they had were proving to have been crafted from rice paper and smoke, rather than steel and blood. No, at this point, even Izuna admitted that they should have accepted the peace Hashirama offered when they had the chance. At least then, the two clans could have supported each other against what was increasingly looking like the rest of the shinobi clans in the country.

With Madara still away, trying to fulfill a vow that had to be horribly demanding on his psyche, Hikaku couldn’t add to his burden by calling him back. No, this was something he and Izuna would need to figure out. Fortunately, Hikaku was not too proud to ask the clan as a whole for possible solutions.

It was while silence had fallen over the majority of the crowd that a hushed argument drew everyone’s attention. In the back stood Elder Umeko and her grandson, furiously whispering back and forth while Kagami’s curls bounced with his agitation.

Slowly the two of them realized that the rest of the clan had turned to watch them, and Umeko cuffed Kagami’s ear lightly. “Now look what you’ve caused.”
The boy just crossed his arms and glared at his grandmother. “The idea is not bad! If the Senju could do it, so can we!”

In a flash, Hikaku understood what Kagami had suggested. That the Uchiha should take a leaf out of the Senju’s book, and pack up their belongings, setting their sights on another home. As the boy had already pointed out, it was not a bad idea. However, it might be a hard sell. Would people really be comfortable abandoning the lands that had belonged to the Uchiha for centuries? The soil where the ashes of their ancestors had been scattered?

Though, perhaps Kagami’s comment contained the solution to that as well? After all, the Senju had already done it. Would the Uchiha really be worse than them? To put the memory of their ancestors over the lives of their children?

Hikaku did some quick calculations, then he glanced towards Izuna. “Like for the Senju, the land itself holds little remaining value beyond what we can grow on it. All the houses and such, we can rebuild.”

Someone in the crowd called out, “The Senju even took those with them!”
That prompted a brief argument about how that was even possible, until Izuna sighed and pointed out, “Hashirama is married to a seal-master. They have connections to the royal family of Uzushio. How do you think they packed everything up?”

To Hikaku’s surprise, it seemed the entire clan had bypassed all arguing over whether or not they should leave, instead focusing on the practicalities of how to do it. People scurried around, gathering up each and every sealing-scroll they had, piling them up in the middle of the council-room. Still, it was clear that it would not be enough.

“Anyone with a summoning contract, ask your summons if they can acquire more scrolls. At this point we don’t care where they get them from. Buy, steal, dig it out of an old abandoned trove, it’s all the same to us. We’re going to need at least five times as many as we have.”

At nightfall, a steady stream of ninneko, crows, a lone ninken, and a few assorted other animals snuck out of the Uchiha settlement, as well as a handful of the faster and more stealthy shinobi. Their orders were to get their hands, paws, claws, or whatever on as many sealing scrolls each as they possibly could, then return them, before heading out again. In the meantime, everyone else had started to pack up what they had.

Izuna, with his limp, was banned from assisting with dismantling the houses, instead put in charge of placing genjutsu on everything to fool any spies into thinking that the Uchiha were unaware of what was going on outside their lands.

It was also clear that they would have problems moving the old and the very young with any speed. The solution was for the elderly shinobi to henge into inanimate objects that a few of the more stealthy of the remaining shinobi then would ferry past the camps that had started to crop up along the borders of Uchiha land. Without really discussing it, they had settled on the shores of Land of Water, the ones that bordered on the sea surrounding Uzushio. If they were lucky, perhaps Madara might be able to rejoin them, though nobody dared to voice that sentiment, lest they curse him with bad luck.

With the older shinobi already out past enemy lines, they could set up a halfway point, and then the Uchiha could start to move civilians there, one by one, hoping that by keeping the groups of shinobi moving around as small as possible, they might be able to fool the enemy sensors into thinking that it was hunters going out to forage, or civilians making yet another run to the nearby markets in the hope of purchasing more food.

It took them a few days, and during this time, the Uchiha sensors and the summons reported larger and larger gatherings of enemy shinobi, just outside what was considered the range of an excellent sensor. They were taking few chances, but with the Uchiha already aware, it was not enough. It was now clear that an attack was coming, and they were running out of time.

The most important stuff had already been packed, and a lot of the building materials from the houses as well. The bits that were harder to craft, like screens, roof-tiles, the metal parts of an irori, things like that. They would have to leave behind the frames of the houses, but a few of the more enterprising shinobi had started to rig them with traps and explosives, to ensure that there would be nothing left behind for the attackers to use. They would see no profit from this betrayal.

With fewer and fewer Uchiha left in the settlement, Izuna and Hikaku were doing their best to cover for their absences with genjutsu, but a skilled sensor might be able to realize that a lot of the chakra signatures were identical, mirror-images of just a few genuine ones.

The plan was for the last group to leave in the middle of the night, pulling their own chakra in as tight as possible, to hopefully slip by the sentries. Izuna, with his limp, was not one of them. Uchiha Teyaki—one of the relatively few men in the clan that had married in—was a big and strong man, who easily carried Izuna on his back, taking a small detour to confuse anyone who might be observing them.

That left Hikaku with four other fast and stealthy shinobi, maintaining the genjutsu until they felt reasonably sure that everyone else who had left had either been caught, or had made it past enemy lines. Their biggest hope was that the enemies didn’t want to show their hand too soon, so would let people pass them by to not draw attention to their presence. By the time the enemies could communicate between the various forces, it would be too late.

Watching the narrow moon disappear below the horizon, Hikaku gave the sign to the others, and they rigged the final parts for the traps. Then they slipped out into the night, a few of them throwing a wistful glance back. This had been their home for centuries. But it was only dirt and wood. What home truly was, was family.

Chapter Text

Just like the previous time they had gone into Uzushio proper, it didn’t take long before Tobirama felt his skin prickle. Someone was paying him a lot of attention. Someone good enough that he wasn’t able to pinpoint them. A glance at Hashirama revealed that his brother was aware as well.

Pretending at being oblivious, they ambled through a market, stopping at various stalls to peruse the goods there. If it so happened that those stalls sold small mirrors, polished brass lamps, or black lacquered boxes with reflective surfaces, allowing the brothers to look at the people behind them, well, that was purely not a coincidence. Still, whoever was following them must have been aware of that trick as well, because they hid well.

Deciding to take lunch at a small tea house near a garden, they seated themselves so that Hashirama had easy access to soil and plants, and Tobirama could, if needed, empty the decorative pond next to them for a readily available weapon.

It wasn’t until their food had been served that someone approached them, though it was not who they had expected. A small boy with red hair just a few shades darker than Mito’s came over, holding out a letter. Quick questioning revealed that someone had paid the boy a few coins to deliver it. He described the man as a fisherman in shabby clothes. Dark hair and dark eyes, which, despite the frequent shades of red among the Uzumaki, was not uncommon in Uzushio. Most of the other clans here favored dark hair and dark eyes.

They thanked the boy and sent him on his way, then they very carefully opened the letter from the bottom, Tobirama having a thin mesh of water hovering around it in case it contained poisonous fumes. There was nothing. No poison. No exploding seal. No wire and needle trap. Just a folded up piece of paper.

Unfolding it, they glanced at the writing. Hashirama’s shocked inhale had Tobirama tense up before he had even read any of it. Then his body relaxed, preparing for battle. Madara. He had found them.

~

Hashirama,

Please do not burn this letter before you have read through it. I made a huge mistake. I know that, and I deeply regret it. However, I have found a solution that might allow you to keep your brother and me to keep my sanity. I know it will sound dramatic. It is. There is no hiding that.

I also know you have no reason to trust me. Quite frankly, these days I hardly trust myself either. I am already struggling to keep the vow from making me do unreasonable things, and I am getting desperate.

The vow demands that I kill your brother, however, it does not require for him to stay dead. If we time it right, I can use a Raiton jutsu to stop his heart, fulfilling the vow, and then you can start his heart again. I know you are able to. I have seen you do it on the battlefield.

If you give me this chance, I swear I will never ask anything of you ever again. I will go back to my clan, and tell them to avoid your clan, to not take missions that will put them opposite any of your people, to leave them be if they do encounter them. It’s not the peace we dreamt of as children, but I know now that I was the one that ruined our chance at that. I do not blame you. Not for anything that happened. It’s all on me.

I am so sorry for these past years. I should have taken the offer as soon as you reached out. I should have accepted, and demanded that my clan adhere to the peace, rather than listen to the Elders who were so steeped in their losses and grievances that they could never look past it. The dead are dead, and throwing away more lives will never bring them back.

For what it is worth, the war is over. That much is true regardless of your choice. If you say no, I will spend my last money on a small boat and row out to the nearest whirlpool. It seems a fitting end, to succumb to the element of my soulmate, and it will also assure that nobody can find my corpse to steal my eyes.

However, should you find it in your heart to agree, I am staying in an inn down by the harbor, ‘Three Lucky Koi’. I will wait for four days, and if I don’t hear from you, I’ll take that as your answer.

Words cannot express how sorry I am for the way things have turned out. I used to dream as a child of finding my soulmate. To do so in such a manner—Surely the gods are laughing at me.

I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I know. It just struck me that this might be the last letter I’ll ever write, and I suppose I did not want it to end just yet. There are so many things I wish I had said. So many things I wish I’d done. So many things I wish I’d done differently. If I had, perhaps I would by now have been married to Tobirama. Perhaps we would have had our shared village. Perhaps the next generations could grow up in peace, learning to walk before they were forced to run. I could very easily see your brother as a teacher, guiding the children in how to do their kata, or how to form the right hand seals…

Will you give him my apologies? I never was the soulmate he deserved. I messed up, and he is paying for it. I have fallen hope he will manage to find happiness regardless.

As you can probably tell, my sanity is no longer what it used to be. Though, I suppose, looking back, it never was quite as stable as it should have been. I fear my time is running out. The vow is like a persistent scratching at the back of my mind, urging me to rush out and do incredibly stupid things. Perhaps four days was me being overly optimistic? But don’t worry, if it gets too bad, I’ll rather kill myself than hurt Tobirama.

Thank you for being my friend back then. I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much it meant to me, and how much it cost me to pick my family over you. If I could go back in time…

Well, it is easy to think what one would have done if given the chance, but the only way is forward, and my path seems to be coming to an end has never been straight or clear. I have always had to figure out things on my own. It’s only a shame that I sometimes did that too late.

I’m sorry. I’m sure you tire of reading something so incoherent and winding. I’ll finish here.

Your repentant friend,

Madara

~

Tobirama read through the letter once more, noting the inkblots and shaky handwriting at points. Beside him, Hashirama had put the side of his fist against his mouth, but his expression was hard to read. Did he feel sympathy for his old friend? It very much looked like Madara’s sanity was slipping, and that the man was aware of it. The fact that he planned to end his life… It seemed so very unlike the blustering and bold Madara that Tobirama had seen across battlefields for years. Though, perhaps Tobirama as well had things he would need to admit, like not truly knowing what Madara was like. Judging him based on the persona the man might affect in combat… Tobirama knew intimately what it was like to put on a mask and suppress his real emotions for the sake of getting a job done. It was possible that Madara did the same. Having a fierce reputation could be an excellent defense. It meant the more sane shinobi would think once or twice before engaging. And despite the bad reputation shinobi usually had, the majority of them were sane. You did not last long if you weren’t.

Which brought him back to Madara, whose sanity was clearly slipping. Madara, who had vowed to kill him. Who had a borderline insane idea to do just that, but then have Hashirama bring him back. The worst thing was that it sounded plausible. Madara was right. Hashirama could restart a heart. Had done so on several occasions. If someone’s heart stopped due to a too hard punch that shocked it out of its rhythm, or if someone was hit with a Raiton that somehow messed up the heartbeat, or… The point was, it could work.

The alternative was that Madara killed himself. That he rowed out to the nearest whirlpool, and allowed it to drag him down. It was a dramatic way to go, sounding like something that might be a result of his growing insanity, but then, from what Hashirama had told him about the days he had had with Madara as a friend, perhaps he had always had a flair for the dramatic?

And wasn’t it curious that Tobirama did not doubt for a moment that Madara would do it? He had seen the golden orb. Had realized what it meant, but he had not truly allowed himself to think through the implications of that. Madara’s vow had taken all of his focus. His fear for what it meant for him had overridden any thoughts of what it meant for Madara. What it meant for them.

Madara was his soulmate. Madara was slowly going insane from a vow he had made in affect. A vow it now looked like he very much regretted. Being driven to uphold the promise against his own wishes… Simply being unable to fulfill or uphold a vow was bad enough, but being able, and not wanting to? That had to be even worse.

Tobirama turned his head, noting that Hashirama had not moved. He was still staring down at the letter, only his eyes moving back and forth as he re-read it for who knows which time. Tobirama didn’t know what his brother was thinking, but he was reasonably sure that Hashirama’s mind was tying itself in knots. His desire to protect his younger brother warring with his desire to save Madara.

“I’ll do it. I trust that you’ll restart my heart just fine.”

Hashirama’s head snapped around so fast that Tobirama worried for his brother’s neck. “No!”
Crossing his arms and leaning back a little, Tobirama narrowed his eyes. “Yes.” Then he added, “It’s my decision. And it’s my soulmate. If I let him die… I’ll forever wonder what would have happened if I had not.”

Hashirama sagged, expression twisting in pain. “But… What if…?”
“I trust you! You’ve done it before. And this will be an entirely different situation than on a battlefield. We can control all the variables. You can even have Madara use a seal made by Mito instead of his own Raiton. That way, he’ll be the one doing it, but she’ll be the one setting the parameters. This sounds like the only way we’ll both live. Do you really want to condemn Madara to a watery grave? After he has clearly seen the error of his ways? If he lives, and goes back to the Uchiha, maybe in time, you can rekindle your friendship with him?”

“Tobi… He swore to kill you! How could you think…?”
“Anija. I had just maimed Izuna. He had every reason to hate me in that moment. If our roles had been reversed, I would probably have thought the same.”
“Why are you defending him?”
“I… I’m not. I’m… I haven’t allowed myself to think this through. The implications of him being my soulmate… What was the point? He was… There was no hope. This… I’m not saying that I expect anything to come of it, but… Well… You’ve spent so many hours throughout the years talking about Madara. About your friendship with him. If there’s any chance you could actually have at least a tiny bit of that back… I want that for you. I want you to be happy.”
“And yourself? What about your happiness?” Hashirama gave Tobirama a smile that didn’t truly look anything near happy. No, it looked more like he was just one wrong word away from breaking out into tears.

Looking down at the letter, Tobirama curled his hands into fists, digging the nails into his palms. “Let’s just do this first. Then, if all goes well, I can start to consider what I want. Like I said, before now, there hasn’t really been a point to spending energy on wondering what could have been. Now… We’ll see.”

He reached out with his senses, to try to pinpoint where Madara was at this moment, but amidst the chaos of chakras on Uzushio, it was really hard to differentiate a single one from the veritable tsunami of Uzumaki chakra. They all really had too much. Still, he should have found the volcanic presence of Madara. Fire nature was not that common on Uzushio.

Was it possible Madara was not actually on Uzushio, but had sent the letter from the mainland? He reached further out. And further. All the way towards Land of Fire.

His entire body tensed up. “Anija… The Uchiha are on the move.”
“What? Where?”
“I… It seems they are heading in this direction.”
“A war-party?!”
“Ah, no. When I said Uchiha, I meant… They are all on the move. Shinobi, civilians, children, the elderly… It looks like the entire clan is fleeing something.”
He reached his senses further into Land of Fire, and his eyes grew wide. “OH! They are!”
“What?! Tell me!” Hashirama looked concerned, and one of his hands gripped Tobirama’s sleeve, almost as if he was ready to just pick him up and rush out of there if the Uchiha showed up.

“The Uchiha are currently just inside the borders to Land of Water, but their old lands are swarming with shinobi that feel like they come from several different clans. And I do mean several. I think I recognize some Hagoromo there, and Nara, and Yamanaka… Akimichi… Aburame… Even Fūma… And Hyūga. There’s… I think the Uchiha have been driven out.”
“But why are they coming here?!”

Tobirama looked up, meeting Hashirama’s eyes, and they both said it at the same time. “Madara.”

Hashirama winced. “They must have chosen this direction in the hope that they might be able to get a message to Madara.”
Nodding slowly, Tobirama agreed, adding, “That means they hope he’s still alive.”
“He is strong-willed. A weaker man would already have succumbed. The fact that he has not… That he is still hoping to find a solution…” Hashirama’s shoulders drooped.
“All the more reason for me to agree to his proposal. If he keeps his word, he’ll go back to the Uchiha and ensure there will be no further conflict, even if they do end up settling in Land of Water.”

“I’m not sure if one more clan with a strong kekkei genkai would really be welcome there. From what I’ve heard, the three strongest clans have been battling it out for dominance for decades now. They might take offense to the Uchiha attempting to claim land for themselves.” Hashirama was looking out into the air, a frown wrinkling his forehead.
Tobirama could understand the worry, and he vowed to himself to speak at length with Mito about that when all this was over with. He had been so thrilled to get access to more sealing theory that he had neglected to learn more about their new neighbors.

If what Hashirama said was correct, that could become a problem for Uzushio somewhere down the line, and thus also for the Senju clan. But first things first. “Well, it will all be moot if we cannot save Madara. And, given the contents of his letter, we may not have much time. He’s already held on for longer than most people would have managed. Let’s head back and get aneue’s help to craft a seal, then come back and find Madara. The faster we get it done, the less chance that we’ll find that it is too late.”

Hashirama gave a nod, and without being prompted, reached out so that Tobirama could place his hand on top of his. There was a sound like glass shattering, and both brothers were gone.

⁂

Madara had been pacing back and forth in his tiny room so much that he could do it with his eyes closed and know exactly where he was in the room by the feel of the flooring underneath his feet and the way the air flowed around him as he moved. Sending that letter had calmed the vow enough that he could think again, which brought with it worries for how his clan was doing. He was almost certain that Izuna would have tried to follow him, but hoped that the rest of the clan had been sensible enough to stop him.

How were they doing with stocking up for the winter? How many missions had they been able to take, and what level of difficulty? With him gone and Izuna injured, there were fewer shinobi available for the really well-paying missions, but on the other hand, with the Senju gone, there should be fewer skirmishes and thus less of a drain on the coffers.

He tried to reach out with his senses, but whatever the vow was doing to his mind, it had also messed with his ability to control his chakra, meaning he could barely even sense into the next room. The entire Senju clan could be surrounding the inn, ready to take him out, and he wouldn’t know until they came rushing in. Though, if that was their plan, it would probably be a better death than drowning in the maelstrom.

He turned once more, pacing towards the other wall. Then he nearly stumbled as he felt a familiar chakra right outside the sliding door. Hashirama!

⁂

Finding the inn called Three Lucky Koi had been easy. It was right at the shorefront in the poorer part of the city, and the sign had been gaudily painted at one point, though the paint was flaking now. Since they didn’t know what Madara’s state of mind would be like, Hashirama went inside alone, and Tobirama stayed by the end of the pier, having the entire ocean at his back.

As he waited, he wondered if Madara would agree to the fail-safe they had come up with. Earlier, he would have scoffed at the idea. Madara was stubborn to a fault, and seemed set on continuing the war to the bitter end, though now, with his own sanity, and life on the line, it would be beyond foolish to turn it down. No, for all his faults, Madara was not stupid. With the Senju having left their ancestral lands to resettle on Uzushio, and the Uchiha fleeing from a coalition of shinobi clans in Land of Fire, Madara would not have any reason to continue the war. Agreeing to let Hashirama place the seal on him that would limit his range of movement when in proximity to the paired seal, which was drawn on Tobirama, would not be such a hard sell as it would have been under normal circumstances. At least that was what he hoped.

It all hinged on how… unhinged the vow had made Madara by now.