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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.

Chapter Text

🙥❀🙧

Senju compound, Hashirama's and Izuna's home

Izuna squealed in delight when Hashirama spun him around and bent him backwards over his arm in a fluid motion. Hashirama grinned broadly and pulled him back to lock him into his arms.

“And that’s how they dance nowadays at the Daimyō’s court. The ladies seemed to love it.”

“Well, I see the point with all this touchy-touchy and swaying.”, Izuna fake-swooned. He hooked one leg over Hashirama’s waist and bent himself loosely back in his arms. “Oh, my Lord Hokage, hold me in your strong arms, I got dizzy! Uuh!”, he cried theatrical in an unnatural high-pitched voice. Hashirama’s whole body shook in laughter, while he tried to keep up a serious face.

“My dearest princeling, I’ll hold you until the end of the days!”, he promised in the pompous language of the Daimyō’s court. Izuna spluttered and straightened himself again to wrap his arms around Hashirama’s neck.

“Would you now, my lord?”, he whispered in his usual voice and brushed a kiss against Hashirama’s lips. “I missed you. It was a really bad idea to go there without me.”

“I missed you, too. Tobirama was as boring as always. Well, until the Daimyō came out with these ‘private matters’ of his he wanted to discuss. I swear, Tobirama was about to laugh into his face.”

Izuna snorted. “Hard to believe. I think your brother misses the muscles to laugh. What were this ominous ‘private matters’ anyways or is it too private for me?”

“Oh, they are especially important to you.”, Hashirama promised with a sudden change in mood. His previously playful and not too serious demeanor changed to a soft seriousness, when he kept one arm curled around Izuna’s waist and buried his other in the open black mane. His gaze was fixed on Izuna with a certain intensity that made him tremble with anticipation. That was exactly the look Hashirama always made when he was about to do something incredible sweet and sappy to express his love.

“So? What was it then?”, Izuna asked, when Hashirama took his time to play with his hair. It was nice, really, but now Izuna was curious. Hashirama gave him just a smile and let his fingers wander from his hair to Izuna’s face, touching gently his cheek and lips. All with his signature longing look, as if Izuna's face was something so precious and beautiful that he couldn't comprehend it, let alone get enough of it. It always made Izuna want to jump out of his skin because of how giddy it made him feel. And that after six years of being together! “What?”, Izuna breathed excitedly and tried to snap after Hashirama’s finger. If Hashirama continued to look like that he didn’t care for the Daimyō’s stupid matters anymore!

“I love you.”, Hashirama said and withdrew his fingers, eyes glued to Izuna’s.

“I love you, too.”, Izuna purred, but then frowned worriedly at how Hashirama’s arm around his body went tense. What did that stupid Daimyō say? Hashirama smiled reassuringly and kissed the spot between his brows and Izuna felt how he relaxed again. Charming Senju.

“I want to marry you, Izuna. Do you want to marry me?”

Izuna literally gaped, mouth open and eyes wide.

It took him a while to process what Hashirama had just asked him or to regain control about his mouth. When he finally was able to close it, he felt his own skin burn in a probably vivid pink, from head to toe. Well, at least Hashirama’s ear tips were as pink as he felt, yet his handsome guy didn’t stop looking at him. His expression somewhere between nervous puppy and adequately flustered man.

Izuna felt a wobbly smile tingle on his own lips.

"You better blieve that I want to."

Chapter Text

🙥❀🙧

Several years ago, Land of Whirlepool, House of Ashina Uzumaki

“They won’t come off even if you stare longer.”, Mito snickered and carefully blew on her fingernails when Hashirama flinched and gave her an apologetic grin after staring for hours at Nami’s rear. It was a nuisance, really, and all she could feel was pity. When father had told her years ago that ‘her new friend from Hi no Kuni’ would come to visit her, Mito had not been too fond of the idea. Especially not when she had seen the lanky teenager entering her home. He looked stupid in her freshly turned five-year-old mind. Jug-eared and big-mouthed, but rather shy and a little helpless around her.

She had ignored him for the time of their visit and afterwards she told her father that she had no use for stupid boys to play with. She already had seven stupid brothers and the kami knew how many more brothers her mother would bear; her belly was already round again. Her father had laughed at her and told her that she would see Hashirama-sama and his brother Tobirama-kun the next year again.

The next year another boy had appeared. This one pale, with ugly white hair, nasty red eyes and a constant frown on his face. She hated him in an instant. She didn’t ignore, oh no. She followed him around, just to be annoying and drag another reaction out of him than the stupid frown or the blank face. She begged and bugged her oldest brother to teach her a barrier seal and after she had caught the creep in a barrier, he finally showed a new reaction when he saw her. Well, he was mostly frightened, because she accidentally forgot to seal air with him into the barrier and he nearly suffocated until she found out how to release the barrier. But it was funny to see how the older boy avoided her and how his frown was now joined by nervous darting eyes. She proceeded to train barriers, after the boy left. If he returned the next spring, she would be ready.

He returned, she barriered him several times. With air, but something seemed to be wrong with his head, because he threatened to faint and suffocate as soon as she closed the barrier around him. It was funny the first few times to see him like that, because honestly, he just needed to breathe. But Mito was not cruel and when she found that the boy would continue to forget how to breathe in the barriers, she stopped. Instead she showed him one of the nice water based jutsu she was currently learning, and somehow this spring visit became actually nice.

The next year, an eight-year-old Mito was confronted with a beanpole-like boy with giant ears and hands, an oddly deep voice that just didn’t fit the oddly long body. Mito didn’t want to have anything to do with him. She was frightened because his charka was weird and threatening. Like one of the giant sea monsters that appeared in Granny’s stories. It was as if the charka was about to burst his skin and come out to kill them all. She wondered if she should use one of her barrier seals on him to keep him off of her. Luckily, he didn’t seem to be keen on spending a lot of time with her. He bowed politely in front of her and called her ‘princess’, when father let her fetch to greet him, but the rest of the time he kept her oldest brother’s company and talked with him about war and fights and what jutsu was stronger than another. With the rest of her brothers he laughed and goofed around, tried out gambling and stupid daring ventures. Mito watched him closely, worried that his mean charka could go for her brothers. After a while she recognized that he laughed in a weird, dishonest way, as if he was hiding something dangerous and dark behind his laughter and the goofy jokes. Or something really, really sad. Mito was a still afraid of him and quite glad when he went home.

When she was nine and he was seventeen he still laughed and goofed around, while under the surface something dark and hard lurked around. But then he made something that tamed the roaring charka under his skin. He made it warm and friendly, like laying in a pool of water during a hot day, and he grew a daisy out of his hand for her. She kind of liked that, so she chose that she could like him, as long as he was not mean to her. And he seemed to like her oldest brother Kuroshio a lot. He always laughed more honestly when Kuroshio made a joke. She could relate, Kuroshio was her favorite brother, too. At least at the moment.

When she turned ten, jug-ears did not come. He was fighting in the war and war started early this year, her father said. Mito did not care too much. It was not as if she was the one who insisted on the yearly visits.

She didn’t miss him when he came not in her eleventh spring.

She saw him when she was twelve and nearly didn’t recognize him. The lanky teenager with the big ears had become a man and at first, she didn’t recognize him, when he bowed deeply and offered her a fine necklace as a gift. She accepted the gift gracefully, just like mother had taught her, and was quite proud about it. That was a gift for a woman, not for a girl.

When she was thirteen, Tobi-kun accompanied jug-ears. Well, mother had told her that she had to stop calling Hashirama-sama ‘jug-ears’, because it was unfriendly and Mito was now a woman and not a girl anymore. Mito was quite glad that day that she had left her pants in the drawer and dressed up like the woman mother had called her. Because, oh girl, Tobi-kun had become pretty! Exotic, interesting, prickling. It took Mito exactly five minutes to see that he was still a jerk, but that didn’t stop her from trying out her flirting abilities on him. When the two of them were gone, her mother chided her very severely for flirting with Tobirama-sama. She was Hashirama’s betrothed and next year she would be old enough to go with him to marry him, if he wanted her to. Mito’s world broke at that day, because why should she go with some adult man to marry him? She didn’t particularly like him. Her mother told her that she didn’t need to worry, because she would learn to love him later, when they were married. It had been the same for her and father. Mito doubted that severely.

She was fourteen and hell-bent to show that stupid Senju guy that he could search for a wifey elsewhere. She swapped her favorite soft kimono for the pants she had discarded as too unfeminine, wrapped herself in one of her brothers' shirts and armored herself to the teeth. Hashirama came, smiled at her and complimented her strength and determination and asked her about her favorite sealing technique. She found that he was easy to talk to and honestly interested in what she was telling. That was nice for a change, as her brother tended to treat her still as a little girl. But then she tried to flirt with him – because well, mother had told her they were betrothed and if she was supposed to fall in love with him, she could at least try – and every attempt went to nothing. It was as if he didn't even see her. Instead he jumped at every occasion to talk to Nami. Nami was her most capricious brother, a colorful personality who could be laughing one moment and grumpy and snarly the next. He was also a loner, but he seemed to find Hashirama-sama just as interesting as the other way around. The reason for all of that dawned on Mito when she found her brother and her fiancé making out in the cove, she had thought was her secret place. She was a little miffed, but more out of pride than anything else.

The next year Hashirama reappeared for only five days and in this whole days she saw him more often slipping out of Nami’s bedroom than anywhere else. She didn’t care, she had a major crush on one of the servant boys and it was far more interesting to watch the sixteen-year-old boy trying to impress her than a twenty-three-year-old jerk who looked at her brother like he was something to devour.

Before Hashirama’s visit the next year, her father had given her quite the talk about her behavior. She was sixteen and she could be married into Senju for two years now. She had to make sure that Hashirama took her with him this year. Stop the boyish antics, stop the bragging about seals, stop the naked swimming and for all the kami cared, stop smooching the weaver’s daughter! Well, Mito was quite sure that Hashirama couldn’t care about her less, except maybe she developed pecks and a penis. She didn’t plan to do so, and that led her to the current awkward situation. She was dressed in one of her nice white kimono jackets who showed off her breasts quite well, and had applied bright red polish on her nails, while she watched Hashirama ignoring her to watch Nami doing his training. Shirtless, of course, because Nami was just the tease he always had been.

“What did you say?”, Hashirama muttered and bit his lower lip so hard that she feared he would draw blood. Poor boy. What did they do with him at home, that he hungered so for Nami’s butt? Well, she had overheard her brothers talking about how small-minded and uptight people outside of Uzu no Kuni could be when it came to the question of who had sex with whom. So coming here was probably the time of his life for her poor, gay fiancé.

“Nami’s pants. They won’t come off.”, she snickered and checked the reflection of her nail polish. “He lost them once during a training and nearly got chopped off some reeeeally important parts of his. He doublechecks his belt now.”

Hashirama gave her a doubtful look and she blinked conspiratorial.

“But I think he will lose his pants pretty easily for you later, if you ask him nicely.”, she assumed and tipped the nail of her index finger against her lower lip. “I hope you don’t mind him having a boyfriend, though. They like threesomes these day. … Not that I would know, officially. But it’s quite obvious when two boys leave your brother’s bedroom and he limps afterwards really badly.”

Hashirama gaped at her and she sighed. She bent forward as arrogantly as she could and closed his mouth with her fingertips.

“Come on, don’t look at me like that. As if I wouldn’t notice.”, she smirked and crossed her legs, her head high and her gaze knowing. “We can do this my way, dear fiancé, or… well, no. We will do this only my way, so keep listening.”

Well, he actually looked quite cute with this skeptical raised eyebrows and the slightly mischievous grin blooming on his lips.

“It is quite obvious that you don’t want to marry me. To be honest, I am not keen on marrying you, too. So... you've got my back and I've got yours. We’re clear?”

“Clear as the day, Mito-hime. So… you think he’ll lose his pants?”

“Most definitively. He’s a slut. But don’t get too fixated on Nami. I have a friend who has a brother who you could like a lot. And who is probably not as… occupied with others.”

“I am all ears.”

“Yeah… no. Luckily not anymore.”, she muttered dryly and nearly laughed her ass off, when he covered his ears with his hands and pulled a depressed face.

Chapter Text

🙥❀🙧

About twenty years ago, battlefield

She was pretty. It was not so much her body, because she was obviously far too young to be anything but a little girl, but her demeanor. The determination in her eyes, the grim snarl, the sullen way she smeared nosebleed over her face with the back of her hand. It was how she fought, ruthless and fast without hesitation and letting pain or fear getting over her.

His father had always said that Uchiha were sadistic monster and cowardly backstabber. Tobirama had never had reason to doubt his father until now, when he stood against a little girl of Uchiha blood and had to fight her with everything he had.

Surprisingly she faced him mostly one on one. She was fast and her tricks were cunning. Tobirama could get the tricks. She was so much smaller and younger than him, without tricks she would be dead by now. He had also used tricks when he had been her age. Sometimes he still did. Trick were not cowardice.

What he couldn't get was how fast she was. She was barely more than a head on two sticks, but woah. Those sticks could run like the wind. Tobirama knew that he, age twenty, was already one of the strongest men in his Clan and by far the fastest. Not even Hashirama could keep it up with him when it was all about speed. The little Uchiha girl could. Barely, but close enough to evade him when it mattered. She did it for about two years now and every time he thought he found a way to stop her, how to get her, she found another way to surprise him.

She was slippery like an eel and her firestyle jutsu burned hot enough to be a serious counter to his waterstyle attacks, even if fire was weak to water by nature. She made the fire never look weak.

Tobirama looked at her with the piercing stare he knew unsettled her the most. Right at her lips, not even brushing the dangerous red eyes, with arrogantly lowered lashes and a haughty snarl. She shrieked and rose her sword. It was the sword of an adult, well-made and with a bright red hilt, far too big for her. It had been too big for her two years ago and it still was too big for her skinny arms now. Except for her ponytail, not really much of her had grown for the last two years. She was probably one of those girls that stayed tiny and frail their whole life and Tobirama had to admit that he was fascinated.

Actually, he loved her.

That love was certainly something twisted, given her obvious young age and the fact that she was an Uchiha and he was Senju. But Tobirama had no idea how to describe his feelings else. He thought of her when he fought others, the thought of her when he was at home, he thought of her when he developed any new jutsu. There was nothing sexual about the way he loved her. Tobirama felt seldomly those desires and if he did, he preferred older, experienced women not little girls. She was different. He loved her for her passion and the fire she awoke in him. She was the fire to his ice and he wanted to have her close.

If she made it to adulthood, if she survived everything he threw at her, she was destined for him.

The decision was made the moment he evaded her slicing sword barely, the sharp blade razoring a broad gap into the thick fur cushioning the area around his neck she preferred to attack. Little snake she was, despite not even reaching his chest she always aimed high. Well, at least if she didn’t aim for his ankles or knees to cut the sinews. Once she had sliced the vein on his thigh. He carried the scar with a mix of pride and shame. It was only thanks to Hashirama that he had survived it. Without his brother's healing abilities he would have bled to death because of a little Uchiha girl whose waist was so thin, he could easily close his hands around it and his finger would overlap!

With a dancing-like step he turned around and grabbed her ponytail as abrasive as he could and yanked. She shrieked, but it sounded more like anger than like pain and she did not give in. It had to hurt and if she wasn’t so flexible he would probably have broken her neck, but flexible she was. Insanely flexible. The sword stayed in her hand, while her back bent into a perfect arc that made Tobirama inwardly wince. With a graceful flick-flack she came closer and her nasty blade aimed at the hand holding her ponytail. No! The sword was not coming for his hand, it came for the hair!

Tobirama let her go in the last moment, the swift blade that would have cut the dark silk, cut through empty air, only chopping off some single strands.

Tobirama would later find one long black hair caught in the white fur or his armor and keep it. As unexpected soft those unruly hair had been, so unexpected uplifting some of those disgusting Uchiha could be.

He almost felt not like a traitor for hoping that she would make it to adulthood. If she did and if Hashirama was still secretly harboring this illusion about peace with the Uchiha, he would offer his brother to marry the little Uchiha Heiress to reinforce that peace with the oldest bond possible.

It would certainly be some interesting marriage. He was sure about that.

Chapter Text

🙥❀🙧

Uchiha Madara’s house

“How are you, princess?”, Izuna grinned and threw his butt next to hers onto the overly soft bed. Mito watched him crossing his long legs and getting comfortable as if it was his bed and not that of Mito and her husband. She didn’t mind it. They had become close. Closer than she was to her own brothers and her friends back home. She was glad about it, because marrying into a foreign Clan in a foreign village in a country far away from home meant that she had to start a completely new life. There were a few people from her Clan around who moved with her, but they were just as foreigners here in Konoha as she was. Izuna on the other hand was a real Konoha-nin, no way to point it out better. Not only the Clan Heir of Uchiha (second in row since today morning), but also a highly respected resident of Konoha, brother of one of the Hokage (who happened to be her husband) and more or less secret partner of the second Hokage (who happened to be her long-time-conspirator in the issue of ‘I don’t want to marry who my father thought/thinks I should.’). If they hadn’t fallen into this friendship naturally from day one on, Mito would have tried to get into his good graces anyways. It was the only senseful tactical decision given the circumstances.

What a bummer, if she had a clinch with Madara’s beloved little brother. It was almost creepy how fixated the two men seemed to be on each other.

Well, everything went fine. The suitor she had thought she had to fend off had turned out to be a suitor of Hashirama's and took her supposed fiancé conveniently from her at the very moment she met the man she knew at first sight that she wanted him. And also, he was nice. Really nice with a sharp mind and a humor that fitted her own. And surprisingly sensitive and emphatic, something she wouldn’t have expected after the rumors she had heard about the Uchiha Clan.

Well. If the rumors had been true, she wouldn’t have married her dragon. Uchiha Madara had turned out to be just the man she wanted and needed, and not the tyrannic madman people had described to her.

Well. Of course she had to work her way through a tough armor of grumpiness and natural distrust, but from the moment on she had cracked Madara’s shell the road of life led them all rather smoothly to exactly this point: She, having given birth to Madara’s and her first baby. It was barely seven months after the wedding. Izuna would tease her for the rest of her life as soon as he saw that the supposed “premature baby” was well developed, quite chubby and even had a huge mop of black hair.  But what was she supposed to do? She had to check “the goods” before agreeing to a wedding, didn't she? It wasn't her fault that “the goods” and she were quite prolific together...

“Ah, you know.”, she sighed in a grandiose act of submissiveness, “Giving birth feels not so natural and easy people make it sound like. I think I am pretty much destroyed down there for the rest of my life. Do you want to see?”

“Ugh.”, Izuna made a blunt vomiting sound and gave her an exaggerated suffering look. “Mercy! Why do you want to torture me? What have I done to you? I wasn’t the one who put that baby into you. I am the one who delivered the millions of snacks you wanted to have when you were already too fat to waddle. Ouch!”

“I was not fat! I was pregnant.”, Mito hissed and eyed her fist. That punch had been harder than intended. Well, at least for her hand. The stupid pony just had to deal with it. He deserved another punch for calling her fat. She would order Madara to deliver that punch for her later.

“Fat. Pregnant. What’s the difference?”

“The difference is currently making friends with her father. I think we will never see the two of them ever again. It was love on first sight.”

“Her father? A little witch? Great!”, Izuna grinned and pulled a paper cone out of his kimono. Under Mito’s very interested eyes he unfurled the paper and started peeling a tasty-smelling maroon with deft fingers. Soon he held the still warm nut to Mito who devoured it with an almost lewd moan. Finally one sane person in this village! Giving birth was fucking tiring and she was hungry as hell!

“You save my life.”, Mito hummed and watched greedily how he peeled the next maroon. “I am a little surprised you don’t look for her, though. Are you not interested in her? I can understand it. She’s not really pretty right now. Quite wrinkly and red. Madara nearly killed me when I said so, according to him she is the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his whole life. He has thanked me for her.”, Mito babbled, but even for herself her voice sounded badly in love.

“Ah, I’ll have a look at the little Heiress later and thank her for her appearance.”, Izuna grinned and handed over the third maroon. Mito munched as if she had hungered for hours. Well. She had. The delivery had taken almost twelve hours and the midwife insisted that eating during labors was a stupid idea. Mito would consult her mother about that. “You look actually quite fresh for someone who just gave birth. All the wonders of the Uzumaki blood?”

“Ah, more the wonders of a piece of soap and a bucket of water and a really handy healing jutsu. The midwife is fantastic.” Except her opinion about food during labor. But well, maybe Uzumaki were just different here. Her whole pregnancy had been surprisingly uncomplicated according to the Uchiha midwife.

“Nice to hear.”, Izuna smiled and bent over to brush a brotherly kiss against her cheek. “Glad to see you well, dumpling.”

“Stop charming and peel faster.”, Mito cooed softly, nearly melting over the affection. Whoever had told the world that the Uchiha were a bunch of cold, heartless madmen was a liar. Especially when it came to Izuna and Madara. There had not been one moment since her marriage she had felt lonely or unloved.

The soft scratching of the door to the bedroom announced the return of her husband.

“Ah, I see, flirting with my wife again?”, Madara rasped, red faced and quite disheveled, a suspect wet glance in his eyes. He looked more like someone who had given birth today than she did. She secretly found it cute how her sometimes too stern husband got all soft and worried as soon as it was about her. Well… and their daughter from now on, obviously. Because the overly emotional display wasn’t directed at them. His eyes were glued to the little bundle in soft blankets on his arms.

“Ah, I have a feeling you are not paying enough attention to her these days.”, Izuna answered flippantly and handed Mito the last maroon. With a graceful move he jumped at his feet. “You have time until I wash my hands. Then you’ll hand over my niece.”

“Tss. We’ll see that.”, Madara all but purred, and took Izuna’s place next to Mito. His eyes still glued to the sleeping baby girl. Mito rolled her eyes and was already drawing up a schedule in her head of who was allowed to have the baby and when.

“How about you hand her over to me now?”, Mito sighed and groaned, when she also got only a “We’ll see that.” from the old dragon fart.

Well. She was curious what her precious husband would do when the baby got hungry!

Chapter Text

🙥❀🙧

Thirty-two years ago, House of Uchiha Tajima

“Ma-daaaa.”

“Madara.”

“Ma-daa-aaa.”

“No, you need to listen, Izuna-chan. Ma-da-ra.”

“Ma-da-da!”

“Ma-da-rrrrra.”

“Madada! Madada, Madada!”, the soft cheeked baby laughed in joy and clapped his hands. Madara gave in and laughed open-mouthed with him.

“Yeah, Madara. That is my name! Great, Izuna-chan!”

“Madada! Madada! Madadadadadada!”

“Yeah, Madara! That’s me. You’re so smart, nice done!”

Izuna seemed overly excited for having grasped what his brother had tried to teach him. It also seemed to have kick-started a blabber-fit, because suddenly Izuna didn’t stop anymore. He chirped any form of “Madada” with his little rosy lips and only checked every now and then if Madara was still listening and appreciating his efforts. Madara humored him, nodding eagerly every time Izuna produced a very clear three-syllable “Madada”.

“Oh, my. Did I just hear right, our little sunshine has learned his first word?”, mother breathed carefully her laughter. She didn’t laugh or talk anymore like she used to do; she was always short of air these days. It was her lungs. Father had explained that giving birth to Izuna had stressed her body too much and the pneumonia she got afterwards had never left her body completely. Father had said mother was taking it slow now and that she was off from duty. Madara knew what father meant. Mother was dying. And still, while he had seen a lot of men and women die, by his own hands as well as by the others, the idea of his mother dying because of something in her lungs was too hard to grasp for Madara. He couldn’t imagine that there should be something except an enemy's blade that could kill someone who was not as old as the elders.

“Madada!”, Izuna chirped and rocked on Madara’s lap to enhance his word. Mother laughed again and sat down next to Madara. Casually she lay her arm around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his temple. Just as casually Madara pretended not to feel it. He was far too old to be kissed and hugged by his mother, he knew that. But he still liked it and as long as mother wanted to kiss and hug him, he'd let her do it. Because obviously he was also grown up enough to humor his mother every once in a while! He had turned nine only two months ago. Nine was quite the age, Hikaku had assured that to him. Well, Kurohime had called him an old geezer, but what did Kurohime know! She was barely more than a baby herself!

“Ah, you would think the first word of a child should always be ‘mama’, but here we are. Our little sunshine seems to be very fond of you, my dear.”

“I love him, mother.”

“Sure you do. You are a good brother, love.”

Madara felt his back straighten at the unexpected praise and he grinned cheekily. He was a good brother, wasn’t he? Well, he certainly tried to be the best big brother in the world for all of his siblings. Even for Myoko, who was actually older than him. But only a few minutes, so he could protect her anyways. He just needed to do it in a way she wouldn’t notice it.

“You are not angry that I taught him to say my name?”

“Oh, no, dear. I am happy that you love each other so much. You'll always have his back, won't you, Madara-kun?"

“Sure!”, Madara agreed easily. He would have the backs of all of his siblings, but Izuna’s probably the most. He was so tiny and so cute! Even cuter than Kurohime!

“Ah, that’s good.”, mother smiled, but suddenly she removed her arm from Madara’s shoulder to curl into herself. Her body was shaking in a heavy coughing. She wheezed so badly, Madara was ready to jump up and getting help, but fortunately mother recovered. She held her sleeve discreetly in front of her lips, but Madara had seen the blood on them. He felt worried and mother seemed to see that, because she gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. I was just too busy today morning. I should take it slower.”

“See you do so, mother.”, Madara agreed and tilted his head. “I could get you some tea, if you want me to?”

“Later, my dear. Just stay a little bit. I see you so rarely these days.”

“Father is teaching me a lot. He says I need to know everything to be Clan Head.”, Madara bragged proudly, but then scrunched his nose. “I wish I had a little more time for Izuna-chan, though. He needs to learn a lot, he is so tiny!”

“Ah, he is. But he’ll grow. He’s a baby only now, he’ll become a big boy like you are soon.”

“I thought so.”, Madara agreed and gave her the great grin that showed his missing canine. “Did you know, mother, I lost my tooth yesterday? It was when I had the mission with Oji-san. Myoko-chan wanted to knot it with a thread to a kunai, but that didn’t work. I don’t know how I lost it yesterday, though. I didn’t notice it until I was home.”

“Ah, I saw it at once, my dear! You are growing up so fast, soon you’ll be a man!”, she cooed and Madara felt himself grow a little bit, “You had again a mission with your uncle?”

“Yeah, and Hikaku-kun. Hikaku-kun nearly stepped on a hidden tag, he is so clumsy!”

“He is only seven years old.”

“Yeah. So is Togakushi-kun. Togakushi-kun is far better than Hikaku-kun. Even Oji-san says so.”, Madara sighed and pushed his tongue through the gap between his teeth. It was funny to play with tooth gaps and loose teeth, even if father had told Myoko and him to get rid of any loose tooth as soon as possible. It was dangerous to lose a tooth during a fight. You could choke on it. Luckily, Madara didn’t choke on it yesterday and father hadn’t noticed the loose tooth at all. “I killed yesterday three of the enemies, one more than Oji-san. Oji-san said if I keep up with it, he’ll let me chain my kusarigama!”

“You seem to be really excited about that.”, mother smiled with a weird expression on her face. She looked not as proud as Madara had expected her to be. She had looked prouder when he had told her that he loved Izuna. Or when she had praised the tooth gap. Now she seemed rather worried. Madara found that odd. Father found tooth gaps and loving someone not important, but he found it very important how many men Madara was able to kill.

“Yeah. I…. guess so?”, Madara agreed hesitantly, “When I can handle the chain, I can have the gumbai!”

Now his mother chuckled and Madara felt his cheeks blush. Why did she laugh at him? Wielding the gumbai was an important thing for an Uchiha Clan Head!

“Don’t be angry, my dear.”, mother said softly, surprising Madara at how she caught his emotion so effortlessly. “It is just that you sounded so excited, my dear. I like that. You are a really good boy, my Madara.”

Madara rolled his eyes and turned his face away in a fake-annoyed gesture to hide how the informal ‘my Madara’ tinted his cheeks even more pink. Mother had one of her odd days today, obviously. She was treating him like a child again, not like the warrior he was. Well… he would humor her once more. Hikaku might be a little bit dumb and clumsy sometimes, but he had said something really wise a few days ago. He had said that a boy should always be nice to his mother. Mothers were the only ones able to handle fathers, so they had to have a special kind of jutsu. Madara found that it made a lot of sense, even if his mother was a lot of nicer than Hikaku’s mother. Hikaku’s mother used her shoe to hit Hikaku last week, when he forgot to put his makibishi away and she stepped on them. Madara’s mother never hit him with anything.

“Madada!”, Izuna chimed in. The baby had been busy to stuff his hand into his mouth, but mother mentioning Madara’s name seemed to have remembered him of his new skill.

“Yeah, Madara. Come on, Izuna-chan! I’ll show you how to train.”, Madara perked up and put Izuna on his feet. Izuna could stand and walk very well for a few months now. But his running was still quite wobbly. Father had mentioned that Izuna was behind in his development. Maybe he could show Izuna some things and surprise father. Maybe father would praise Izuna then. He gave mother a careful glance. “May I? Only the seesaw and the balancing board. Father expects me to train now, but I’d…”

Madara blushed. He hadn’t wanted to mention that he was currently disobeying some of father’s orders. But well, father hadn’t ordered him exactly to train. Father had told him to ‘busy himself with something useful’ until he had time for him again. Madara knew that father meant training, be it his shinobi skills or be it reading, writing and doing his math. But training Izuna was something useful, too, wasn’t it? He would have Izuna’s back, always, but Izuna was supposed to have his when he was older. So Izuna had to be just as strong as any of their siblings.

“Sure, my sweet darling. Go. Teach your brother.”, mother smiled leniently, “Tell your father I have asked you to watch your brother while I am taking a nap.”

Madara gave her again a broad, cheeky grin, knowing very well that father couldn’t be angry with him when he was a good son and obeyed his mother.

Chapter Text

🙥❀🙧

House of Hashirama and Izuna

“Ah, that is actually a really nice blend. Seems as if Izuna finally managed to beat some good taste into you.”, Madara grinned and turned the heavy clay cup in his hand. The traditionally shaped cup was dark glazed and decorated with a white pattern that, although rather clumsily painted, showed a certain artistic taste. “Where did you get these? It’s a set, I see. Mito might like something like that.”

Hashirama chuckled and took a sip of his steaming hot tea. Madara could feel his amusement even in his chakra. Stupid Senju.

“What’s so funny? Mito likes unique things.”

“Ah, nothing’s funny about that. Could get you connected to the artist.”, Hashirama answered sloppily and brushed his thumb over the red pattern on his own cup. It was just as crooked and clumsy like the pattern on Madara’s cup, but it seemed to be a bunch of kitties. “Though, I don’t know if you can convince him to make you a set. I remember him saying that his skills are invaluable.”

The amusement in Hashirama’s voice and chakra nearly pearled like a spring and Madara snorted.

“A little bit arrogant your artist, isn’t he? Invaluable? It is not even made well, only unique!”

"Oh, you definitely shouldn't tell him that. He gets offended very quickly when someone criticizes his artistic attempts."

“At least you agree that these are only attempts. What is that anyways?”

“The white cup? Ah… Honestly, I haven’t found out yet. But we have kitty-cup…”, Hashirama rose his cup, “… and there are a flower-cup and a tree-cup in the cupboard. I am pretty sure he just ran out of ideas and patience when he painted the last one. Well, HE said I just need to use my imagination and shouldn’t play dumb.”

“Sounds rather respectless.”, Madara wrinkled his nose, “Who is that brat who painted this cups?”

“That would be me.”, a rather annoyed voice snorted and Izuna entered the room, “Thank you very much for your unwanted and unqualified judgement of arts, big brother.”

Hashirama almost burst out laughing and stretched out an arm towards Izuna, while Madara just rolled his eyes. That was exactly Hashirama's style to just let him walk into the open knife. The scumbag had become really sneaky over the last two years. Probably due to Izuna’s bad influence.

“Whatever.”, Madara grunted and watched Izuna hesitating, “I also said Mito would like something like this and I would pay for it. So don’t be such a sourpuss.”

“I’ll give you some sourpuss!”, Izuna glared at him and took Hashirama’s outstretched hand. Madara expected them to hold hands for a moment, like they started to do for a while now. Izuna was unbelievable skittish about showing his affection for Hashirama, even in front of Madara in a private setting like that. By now everybody knew that the two of them were in love and living together – who could not after over two years? And Madara had been the first to know it. He had seen it coming right when Hashirama had walked up to him and asked him for allowance to see Izuna, and he had seen it when Izuna had started relaxing around Hashirama. Especially after Hashirama had gained access to The Ponytail. Hashirama was the only person getting away with braiding Izuna’s hair, while everyone else would rather lose a finger or maybe even a hand for such sacrilege.

It had taken quite a while for Hashirama to convince Izuna to come out of the closet. It had taken even more time for Hashirama to get Izuna into agreeing to some physical affection when Mito and Madara could see them. While Madara was not keen on watching Hashirama canoodling Izuna right in front of him, he didn’t mind if they were holding hands or something like that. He did that with Mito, too, sometimes when they all sat together and had a relaxing evening. Hashirama and Izuna never seemed to mind.

Izuna only recently accepted holding hands with Hashirama and they still did it rarely when Madara was with them. And a few weeks ago Hashirama had brushed a quick little kiss against Izuna’s temple, when he and Madara had been about to leave for a spar outside of Konoha. Izuna’s face had been so red that Madara really worried about his little brother having a stroke.

This time, Izuna hesitated again, his slender finger long and pale against Hashirama’s tan and strong hands. Then he sighed soundlessly and just slipped between Hashirama’s crossed legs. He didn’t look at Madara, only kept Hashirama’s big paw under his comparatively small hand and rubbed his thumb against Hashirama’s palm before he intertwined their fingers.

Hashirama beamed at Izuna as if he had received a great gift and carefully wrapped his free arm around his waist.

Madara forced a lump down his throat and averted his gaze. The two of them fit together like two spoons, but seeing Izuna so small and soft and vulnerable against Hashirama did something weird with Madara’s protective instincts. Suddenly his best friend seemed overwhelmingly huge and strong and menacing, as if he could tear Izuna in two with one move.

Knowing that he could probably really do that didn't make things any easier on Madara.

“How has your mission been?”

“Wanna have me reporting in front of both Hokage right now?”, Izuna mumbled brusquely and closed his eyes. He gave Hashirama's arm a little more and almost melted into the older man's chest. At that moment, Madara concentrated very hard on his teacup.

“Wanna have my Pretty tell me how he is.”, Hashirama mumbled back, seemingly deeply focused on Izuna. Maybe he really was. Madara had to give that to Hashirama. His affection and concern for Izuna was honest.

“It was shit. I feel like shit. I lost two men and the third is right now in the hospital and tries to die.”, Izuna muttered bitterly and chewed on his lower lip. Hashirama looked up to Madara and gave him a very telling gaze. Madara wouldn’t have needed it, but he answered with a nod anyways. Quietly he put the teacup back to the table and slipped soundlessly out of the room. Izuna didn’t look at him, but Madara could hear him raggedly breathing the moment he closed the shoji door behind himself.

How had Hashirama seen that Izuna needed emotional support right now? For Madara he had seemed perfectly fine when he entered. A little bit tired maybe, but fine. Hashirama had seen behind the façade and offered his help without even offering it openly.

And more, Izuna had accepted it, even in front of Madara.

For a moment, Madara had looked into the little bubble of trust and comfort and acceptance that Hashirama and Izuna seemed to have created for themselves. It had been unsettling to be not the one Izuna chose for comfort.

It also made Madara very glad that Izuna had Hashirama in his life.

Chapter Text

🙥❀🙧

House of Uchiha Madara

Madara wrapped his arm around Izuna’s waist and pulled his brother closer. Izuna smelled once again like burned lavender. He wondered if Izuna was aware that everything he wore smelled like lavender these days, just like Hashirama’s clothes did. Well, many of the comfy clothes Izuna wore these days had belonged to Hashirama at one point in the past, so it was probably no surprise.

Madara had never checked, but he supposed that Hashirama’s (and Izuna’s) wardrobe harbored fields of lavender. Maybe Hashirama grew them there.

Izuna hummed and snuggled up to Madara, warm and pliant like a cuddly cat. His eyes did not turn to Madara, though, but stayed on the baby in his lap. Nojiriko had flushed cheeks from sleeping and made a sucking motion with her lips.

“Bet she dreams of having a drink.”, Izuna muttered and brushed the tip of his pinkie over the newborn’s lips. Nojiriko eagerly started to suckle on the finger and Izuna tittered in surprise. “Gosh, careful! I need that finger, baby witch!”

Madara grinned, the wobbly feeling of happiness that pushed him so close to crying every time he saw his newly born daughter these days raising once again in his guts. Combined with Izuna’s whole attitude radiating happiness Madara could barely contain himself.

Fuck barely contain. He was already sniffing like an idiot.

“Awh, what’s happening now, Nii-san? Got something in the eyes?”, Izuna grinned and stole his finger back from Nojiriko’s tiny mouth. Instead he cupped Madara’s cheek with that hand (Not that Madara missed Izuna smearing him with baby drool, but it was his daughter's, so it was okay with Madara.) and caught a tear. “Owh, all soft and mushy, aren’t we?”

“Shut up, asshole.”

“Ah! Not in front of the baby, douchebag!”, Izuna chided filled with fake indignation and covered Nojiriko’s ears. Just to get distracted, because obviously those ears were just as tiny and as soft as the rest of her. “Look at those perfect ears! Just like real ones!”

“They are real ones!”

“Yeah, but so small! Can we put off her socks? I want to see if she has real toes, too. Does she have toenails?”

“Of course she has! Tiny ones.”

“What is not tiny and cute on the little witch-princess?”, Izuna snickered and nearly choked on his own laughing, when Madara offered a very dry “What she puts into her swaddling clothes.”

“We’re going to censor that end of her.”, Izuna decided and made a so badly lovesick sound, that even Madara had to laugh.

“I fear the nasty end comes with the cute end, so no censoring there. I’ll show you how to do the diapers, though. We’ll make a proper uncle out of you.”

“I am a proper uncle by nature. I’ll just sit her in a bucket of water and wrap her into something that doesn’t belong to me afterwards. Diapers ready.”

“Well, that is a way. She can’t sit yet, though.”, Madara muttered dryly and pressed his cheek against Izuna’s shock of soft hair. Seeing Nojiriko gave him not only the proudest feeling of love in his heart (He and Mito had made her. How could he be part of making someone so perfect and precious like his baby daughter?), but also some kind of flashback. Sometimes he thought he had forgotten the nice things of his childhood. Nojiriko’s peaceful babyface reminded him so much of Izuna, though, and how much he had loved his tiny baby brother already back then.

Sometimes, when Madara lay awake in the night, Mito breathing calmly next to him and Konoha peaceful and quiet around them, he got frightened. He had everything he had ever dreamed of, and even more. A best friend. The peace to protect the innocent ones and the people he loved. People to love. Izuna alive and safe. Mito. Their child. He had never thought that he would be able to have those things, and yet he had them now. It frightened the shit out of him, because it felt like too much. As if it couldn’t last. As if something bad just HAD to happen, something taking that wonderful life from him. And sometimes he couldn’t stop thinking about what could happen. Mito dying in childbirth. The baby just stopping to breath in crib death. A mission gone wrong killing Izuna. Someone attacking Konoha and destroying it. What would he do if he came ever in a position he had to decide between his child, Mito and Izuna? He had a similar talk with Mito, when they found out about her pregnancy, and it drove him close to madness. Mito had talked him through it very calmy but with a grim determination. If anything unexpected was about to happen during the birth and he had to decide, she wanted him to save the baby. Madara had neither wanted to talk about that case nor wanted he to have to make such a decision, but Mito had insisted. She had said it was unlikely, because she knew not a single Uzumaki woman in the present or the further history of her Clan dying in childbirth. But she had wanted him to accept her choice, not only for now but for always. First the children. Then her.

Madara swore to save them all from everything, but it was somehow calming to know where Mito’s priorities lay. His own priorities though… The thought of losing either Mito or Izuna felt like cutting his own heart out of his chest. He had watched Izuna growing up since the day he was born, had held him when he was barely older than Nojiriko now. He had sworn to mother to protect her little sunshine and he had made it until now, even if it had been so close.

“You know, I’ll teach her to say my name first.”, Izuna distracted him from his heartache and Madara rose his eyebrows. “Think of how Mito will react, if Nojiriko’s first word is ‘Izuna’ and not ‘Mama’.”

Madara gave him a skeptic side eye. “I don’t even know how a baby should say ‘Izuna’. I think you were four when you could say your own name without biting your tongue.”

“Mean. We can’t all be called Madada.”

“I’d prefer if she called me Papa.”

“Papa, hm? Not father?”

“We’re modern parents.”, Madara deadpanned and Izuna snickered again.

“Father would have dropped dead if anybody called him ‘Papa’.”, Izuna amused himself and sighed happily. They fell quiet for a while, with Izuna fondling with Nojiriko’s tiny fingers and Madara sucking up the domestic feeling of having his brother and his daughter around him. But he had to ask Izuna about something, though.

“Mito and I have talked about the godparents for Nojiriko-chan.”, Madara started carefully and licked his lower lip. “We want you and Hashirama to be her godfathers. If you two agree. I wanted to talk to you first, before I ask Hashirama, but… yes, that’s it. We’d like you to be it.”

Honestly, Madara had expected Izuna to be a little bit nervous about such a question. It was a huge responsibility. Being a godparent was nothing an Uchiha would ever take lightly and sometimes Izuna was a little bit skittish about taking responsibility for another person. Well, obviously he had once again underestimated his little brother, because Izuna gave him a very warm and very confident smile.

“I already thought about that. And to be honest, I’d rather die than giving your baby into another family. She’s my blood, too.”, Izuna confessed, “So… thank you for your trust, Nii-san. I won’t disappoint you.”

“I know you won’t.”

“I can’t speak for Hashirama, though. He is afraid of babies. He has that fix thought that he could crush them because of the giant shovels he calls hands.”, Izuna snorted with an amused eyeroll, “I don’t know why he believes that. He is the one who can weave delicate flower crowns that actually hold. I destroy a fucking flower by only looking at it – and does Nojiriko-chan complain about being crushed right now?”

“Hashirama is a jerk. And we two should really stop swearing around the baby. I am not to keen on presenting Mito a toddler who shouts ‘fucking’ and ‘asshole’ all the time.”

“Ah, Mito curses herself much worse. Did I tell you how she called me, when I mixed black dye into her hair tonic?”

Izuna told him. Madara was close to put his hands over his own ears, because that was a mighty dirty insult!

Chapter Text

🙤❀🙦

Hokage's backoffice

“What happened?” snarled Madara, stepping aside so Izuna could enter the back room of the Hokage's office - the room where the more sensitive and tedious work was done, while the front room was used more for public display, the summoning of officials, and daily business. Tobirama was currently manning the front room, as Hashirama had once again disappeared without a trace for a few days with Izuna on one of their so-called “vacations”. Well. Apparently, they were back now, because Izuna trudged through the scroll-scrammed room and dropped into Madara's chair. A modern chair with high legs, very chic and very cushy. If he had to spend most of the day behind a desk, Madara at least wanted to do it in style and comfort.

“I won’t talk a single word with that man ever again. I'll move back in with you, and if he ever dares to ask about me again, you just tell him I defected and went somewhere else. Not to Uzushiogakure. He could use it as an excuse to see his ex-lover again." Izuna huffed and slumped back in her chair, pouting like a teenager.

Madara felt his inner alarm bells calm down. If Izuna was sulking as loudly and dramatically as she was now, it wasn't too serious. It sounded more like one of the usual love quarrels between Hashirama and Izuna. The two had a certain dynamic, with Izuna tending to be very narrow-minded and unforgiving about certain things. And dramatic. Madara had never realized what a drama queen Izuna could be. Or how ridiculously jealous and possessive.

“Who did he look at too long this time?” sighed Madara muffled, crossing the room to lean over Izuna and grab him by the upper arm, "And more importantly, what did you do? Is that a cast?"

“Pf. Don’t play dumb, Nii-san. You can see very well that it is a cast. But that doesn’t matter at all right now!” Izuna tried to pull his arm out of Madara’s grip. Madara didn’t give in and the arm obviously hurt too much for Izuna to try it harder. “What matters is that this man has a history in Whirlpool! He basically fucked Mito’s whole family and half of the male population his age there!”

Well. That caught Madara not too much by surprise. Hashirama had never seemed to be the chaste type, given that his fourteen-years-old version had very bluntly asked for a kiss when they had met as boys. Under the disguise of ‘training’ but well. He had asked. The thought that Hashirama spent some horny energy as a young adult or teenager in the Land of Whirlpools, far away from his homophobic and dictatory father was quite understandable. The wear and tear was probably not half as high as Izuna described.

"So he has a history there. I guess he eagerly revisited that history and left you alone while he fucked the second half of the population? Or did he get seconds in the first half?" asked Madara dryly, ducking under the scroll Izuna flung at him with deadly precision. The scroll clattered to the floor with a satisfying sound and rolled under a cupboard, where it would hopefully never reappear. One less thing he had to work on.

“Of course not!”, Izuna hissed and jumped back on his feet. “You should have seen him! Oh-so blushing when this Nami-jerk came, all lovey-dovey with that other dude! Do you know what that freak said? ‘I see you have still good tastes in men, Hashi-kun!’. That’s what he said!”

“How could he.”, Madara made sure to sound sarcastic and mocked an offended face as overdramatic as he could. Izuna didn’t seem to notice it, instead paced through the room.

“Nami-jerk wasn’t all that handsome, really. I don’t know where Hashirama had his eyes. He was probably horny and desperate as hell when he took that freak to bed! I mean, can you imagine a man with long read hair in a ponytail? It looked ridiculous!”

“As ponytails regularly do.”, Madara answered very seriously and agreeing. The ranting Izuna seemed to be pleased with his answer, because he rose his unhurt arm in a defying gesture.

“That’s what I said! Just ridiculous! Really, I would have laughed if the guy hadn't glued himself to Hashirama's arm and started with all the heartwarming remedies from ‘back in the day’. He even offered to show us some nice quiet spots by the sea where we could be alone. And he winked at me!" Izuna gasped indignantly. Madara, leaning back in his chair, gave him an exaggeratedly thoughtful nod.

“Ah, really? How offensive! Did he do the winking before or after he indirectly called you handsome?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing, keep going.”, Madara offered with his most innocent voice and unfurled a scroll. This would take longer; he could as well get some things done. Izuna already didn’t look at him anymore but continued stomping through the room.

"Of course I intended to forgive Hashirama after he had apologized for his ex-lover collection there. But the trip was more or less done for me. So I decided to come back here - by the way, Ashina sends his regards to Mito-chan. They'll be coming in the fall to see the twins. The whole family. Without the aforementioned Nami-jerk. The red-haired freak suddenly seemed to be very, very busy this coming fall." Izuna's voice sounded very smug at that. Madara only gave a hum and unfurled the scroll a little more. “But all that wasn't the worst of it!”

“It wasn’t?”

“No! The worst was that this dumb idiot run after me and hurt himself on the way!”, Izuna nearly shrieked and the next moment he dropped to the ground, right in front of Madara’s desk. Madara perked up, but he didn’t move. “That super stupid, idiotic featherbrain.” Izuna’s voice was suddenly very tiny and oddly raspy. “I got attacked and I was distracted.”, he nearly whispered, his words muffled as if he was pressing his mouth against something. Probably curled up in front of the desk. Madara wasn’t sure if that was a moment he should accept Izuna’s attempt to hide himself from view or if he should go over and hug him. If it were Nojiriko he would hug her, but Izuna wasn’t his little two-year-old daughter. He also wasn’t the easiest to help through emotional turbulences. Sometimes he hungered for touch, sometimes he was too skittish to even be seen. The only one who always seemed to know what to do with an upset Izuna was Hashirama.

Madara considered sending one of these convenient shadow clones to give Hashirama a hint where his lover could be found. When he was at it, he could also send the clone to hand over Tobirama some of the finished scrolls. It would reduce his workload and also annoy the younger Senju. How stupid of him to teach Izuna his shadow clone technique without expecting that Izuna would show it to Madara – who casually copied it with his Sharingan.

“I… I took a blow right at the beginning of the fight. Broke my arm. It’s not so bad. Clean break, medics already healed it. It’s only in a cast because they think I will overuse it before it is healed completely. Really, nothing dramatic and you know me. A broken bone had never held me back in a fight, I would definitively have made it. But… suddenly there was Hashirama and he fought as if I was on the verge of dying! He basically lost control and went rampage; it was… it was stunning.”

Madara was pretty sure that most people would describe an out-of-control Hashirama as scary or terrifying, not stunning. But well, Izuna was certainly not most people and Madara could certainly appreciate the raw beauty of a warrior out of control.

“I mean, he literally ripped them in shreds! For me! It was… I still don’t know how I kept my pants on after that, because that was definitively the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”, Izuna muttered, his voice changing from troubled to awe and back to troubled. Madara only rolled his eyes, because he definitively didn’t need to know that Izuna considered a rampaging Hashirama shredding people as sexual arousing. “He… he was really not himself and he… he missed one of them and that asshole quickly got that Hashirama was protecting me, as if I was weak. I guess he thought escape Hashirama if he took me hostage… or killed me to distract him. It… It was no big deal, I could have handled it!”, Izuna grunted soberly.

It was silent for a moment. “Hashirama took the blow for me.”

Izuna’s voice quivered and broke. Soundlessly Madara made his way around the desk and kneeled next to Izuna. He didn’t look up when Madara took his hand, but he intertwined their fingers in a soothing gesture.

“Can you imagine? He… he took the hit for me. The fucking thing pierced right through him, about where the heart is. I thought… I thought it was over.” Izuna shuddered and turned his head away to hide behind his bangs. “I thought he would just collapse and be gone. That thing, that blade, it was huge! And it stuck right in his body, I saw it sticking out of his chest!”

The softness in Izuna’s voice changed suddenly place with the anger from before.

“And that’s why I won’t talk a word with him ever again! I am done with him! How could he dare to risk his life!”, Izuna growled and turned to Madara. His cheeks were red and his eyes watery, but the frown was also honest. “He healed, just like that! As if it had been nothing! Had been back at his usual self within a few hours. But… how could he dare to set my life over his own?”

Because he loved Izuna. Of course. Madara could relate to that decision very easily. Had he seen Izuna or Mito or his daughter facing a deathly threat he would have thrown himself between them just as well. And he knew that Izuna would do the same if it were ever the other way around. Izuna just couldn’t deal with being on the receiving end.

“I… I am going to break up. It’s over. If he thinks I am that weak, he needs to look for someone else! Because I am not weak!”

That was not the problem, Madara was sure about that. Izuna knew that he was not weak and he knew that Hashirama didn’t consider him weak. Not when Hashirama regularly made a big deal of the fact that Izuna's fighting style was in some ways more challenging for him than Madara’s. Not very flattering for Madara, but well. Probably true anyway. Hashirama was fast, but Izuna was a lot faster, and Hashirama didn't like standing like a lame duck in the middle of preparing a jutsu while his opponent was already on the next attack but one.

No. The problem was that Izuna was frightened. Frightened by the realization that Hashirama would give his life for him. Frightened because Hashirama actually could die and Izuna could lose him.

“I think…”

A harsh knock on the door rescued Madara from telling Izuna what he thought. The door opened and of course, there was Hashirama. He looked fresh and chipper as always, but also kind of worried.

“Sorry for intrusion, Madara. Did you see… Izunacchi!”

“DON’T YOU IZUNACCHI ME! JERK!”

Madara squeezed his eyes shut at Izuna’s deafening shouting and rose himself, carefully brushing non-existent dust form his robe. “Well… I think I leave you two to this.”

“No! You stay and tell that jerk to go! Tell him I won’t talk a single word to him anymore!”

“Izuna… just fuck yourself.”, Madara grunted and shook his head. On his way out he clapped Hashirama’s shoulder. “Good luck, bonsai. Just remember if you two fuck on that desk I want to have a new one.”

Madara didn’t wait for a response, he only closed the door behind him and lent against it. It stayed quiet. No shouting, no throwing things, no threatening rise of chakra. Just quiet.

Well, Hashirama seemed to have things under control. Then he could calmly devote himself to the plan of rubbing the big white lizard's nose in the matter of the copied shadow clones again.

Chapter Text

🙥❀🙧

Hokage Tower, Konoha

It was madness. And it was kind of funny and that thought made Tobirama a little bit worried about his own sanity.

Currently he was sitting at the desk in the Hokage’s Backoffice, once again taking over Hashirama’s duty because his big brother had magically disappeared from the village. Alongside his capricious lover, of course. Given the nice temperature, doors and windows were open and Tobirama was working at a moderate pace. Moderate for him, to say so. Hashirama would have called him still a maniac.

And yet the distraction was not far away. The open door gave him the opportunity to observe a rather odd phenomenon, namely Uchiha Madara. The Uchiha, dressed in his usual sloppily tied dark purple kimono, wandered from the Hokage's office to the various departments of the Hokage Tower, regularly passing by the door of the Hokage’s Backoffice. In the early morning, everything had been fine, he had even been wearing his coat and appeared at least halfway decent as a leader. Over the course of the morning, he had lost his coat and gained a yellow bowtie that held back his bangs. And he wore glasses. It was ridiculous, and Tobirama had completely lost it (inside) when he had first seen those glasses.

Glasses.

This case of irony was something only the kami could come up with: Uchiha Madara, the man with the strongest Sharingan ever, endowed with a fierce gaze that surpassed even Tobirama's, needed reading glasses when facing paperwork for long periods of time. Tobirama wondered if it had always been this way or if it was a weakness of the transplanted eyes. He didn't dare ask; Hashirama had been very strict in his orders. Hashirama rarely ordered him around, so Tobirama knew how to follow if he did. No question about any Uchiha’s eyes, that’s the golden rule. They came up with it the one day, Tobirama had asked him how he could bear that Madara had stolen Izuna’s eyes. If they shouldn’t do something about it. Hashirama had given him a look Tobirama rarely saw directed towards himself. As if he was a stupid brat that should be scolded. “The transplantation has been consensual. It was Izuna’s decision.”, Hashirama had said strained, “And even if it wasn’t, the Uchihas’ eyes are the Uchiha’s eyes and not the village’s business as long as they don’t make it the village’s.” Hashirama was not willing to elaborate further and Tobirama was not allowed to ask about it, neither Izuna nor Madara nor anyone from the Uchiha Clan. The secret of the Sharingan and everything associated with it had to be respected. If something was accidentally passed on, it should be treated as if it had never happened. If something was passed on voluntarily, it should be honored.

Tobirama had accepted that, although his natural scientific curiosity protested greatly. But on the other hand no Uchiha had ever asked him about Hashirama’s mokuton even once, so it was probably just fair.

Anyways, after adding the bowtie and the glasses to his features, Madara had gathered more attachments and the number of them grew. First, he was followed by his twin-daughters, one of them blabbering about something Madara only hummed to, the other picking her nose. The next time Madara passed, there was also a tiny, unkempt boy with a puppy on his head shuffling after the girls. After the boy with the puppy a girl with the chubby face of an Akimichi added herself to the wandering, distractedly chewing on a skewer. The next addition were two boys, one very obviously a young Yamanaka, the other Senju Haromaru. The six children tailed Madara like little ducklings followed their mother and Madara didn’t seem to mind.  Not even when they followed him into the Backoffice and gathered around him while he piled some scrolls in front of Tobirama’s nose.

“Report of S-Rank missions, originals are already on their way into the archives.”, Madara explained seemingly very oblivious about the fact that a bunch of four-to-six-year-olds looked at him as if there was dropping gold from his mouth. “You’ll want to read over that; I scheduled a meeting about those for tomorrow where we should both attend. These are the signed documents and statistics for your meeting starting in half an hour. I barely believe it myself that I am doing here Shikaichi-san’s job. Again.”, Madara growled in a rather lenient voice and shove his glasses up his nose before he unfurled another scroll. “l am going to hand over these to the mission desk, as I consider them A ranks. Possible choices for manning them are added. Mind to give a quick read?”

Tobirama gave him a short nod and turned the scroll towards himself, while Madara – casually like he was a babysitter and not the Hokage of a badass ninja village – handed out a handkerchief to the sniffing Yamanaka and picked up the one of his daughters, who had cuddled herself against his side. He whispered something into her ear she answered positively in a quite impressive attempt at whispering given the fact that Madara’s twin-daughters were notoriously shouting. Tobirama frowned onto the scroll and handed it back to Madara.

“I am fine with this. Are you heading to the mission desk now or later?”

“Now, afterwards I’ll feed the little batchers here and then…”

“When are you going to train?”, the Yamanaka boy chimed in, blue eyes glancing curiously at Madara. The Akimichi girl stuffed a bonbon into her mouth and nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, we came for the fight! Nozomi-chan said you are going to fight.”

“Papa said you are going to spar!”, the twin still on the ground confirmed and pulled herself up Tobirama’s desk. Nozomi probably.

“The others are already waiting at the training grounds.”, Haromaru confirmed and gave Tobirama a shy and respectful look, while the boy with the dog on his head flashed pointy teeth.

“YEAH! We wanna see fighting! Bang-boom-wush, swirl!”, he shouted and turned so abruptly that the dozing puppy slipped off his head with a terrorized squeak.

Madara casually caught the poor animal with one hand and let it slip into the boys open arms. A transfer that went as smoothly and uncommented as if they had rehearsed it.

“Ah. That’s the reason for the fan club. And I was wondering.”, Madara muttered calmly before something sassy crossed his face. “Well, yes, Tobirama. When you’re going to join a ‘bang-boom-wush’?”

Tobirama stared into the almost bratty glittering eyes and wondered for a moment how something in his life could have ever gone so wrong that he was now confronted with a sassy and bratty Uchiha Madara. And a bunch of curiously staring children.

“I didn’t know it was planned to be a public performance.”

“Afraid I’ll beat you?”

There! There it was again, that sassy grin! Maybe he got hit on the head? Or maybe Madara got hit on the head. Because really… it almost felt as if Madara was trying to treat him like a friend.

… the apocalypse had to be closer than ever. Or maybe he had never survived his last mission? Yeah. Maybe he was dead and just didn’t know it. Or he was caught in a genjutsu.

Resisting the urge to use ‘kai’ he shrugged and turned his eyes back to the scroll he had worked on before Madara’s intrusion. “If I remember correctly….”, he answered after a tactic pause, “… it was you who landed on his ass the last time. You were wet like a drowned kitten.”

The ‘drowned kitten’ got an offended gasp out of the children, but Madara only chuckled. “Wet but unbeaten.”

Tobirama responded to that only with a look he considered smug and maybe it was, because Madara grinned openly.

“So, after lunch it is. We’ll do weaponless taijutsu, so the audience can learn.”

“Actually, I am free right now. Meeting got cancelled.”

“Did it now?”

“I am interims hokage, I can cancel meetings if I wish so.”

“Owh, Senju! Do I need to get an exorcist? You sound like Hashirama!”, Madara grinned dirtily while the children around him cheered. His look was startling friendly and Tobirama was now really ready for a ‘kai’. Or an appointment at the psychological department, because he actually looked forward to having a nice spar.

Chapter Text

🙥❀🙧

Six years after Konoha’s founding, Temple Ground north of Fire Country

“I am nervous.”, Izuna whispered and tried not to rub his wet hands on his grey-and-black striped hakama. The montsuki felt heavy and hot, even though it was winter and glittering white snow cushioned the forest around them. It had been quite a scenic walk from the tiny inn where they had their room, the carefully swept way to the little shrine led under big red gates and an old forest with high trees. It had been peaceful and Izuna had felt happy and calm while walking.

Now he felt ready to drop dead from tension.

“I am, too.”, Hashirama whispered back and grabbed Izuna’s hand. Hashirama’s hand was warm and dry, but it trembled a little bit. Izuna was very glad that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. What they were about to do was nothing small. It was exciting. Rebellious. Cunning.

And it meant the world to Izuna.

Izuna pulled his lower lip between his teeth and turned to Hashirama. He was gorgeous. Not that Hashirama wasn’t handsome always, especially when he dressed up in one of his funny colorful haori. But they had agreed that they wanted to do it the traditional way, as far as they could. So they were both dressed in the traditional montsuki, black haori with five white family crests, striped hakama and black kimono, and well…. It did things to Hashirama’s appearance. Izuna felt the well-known heat of desire creep through his body and he leant over to kiss Hashirama a little bit too harsh considering that the stood right in front of a shrine, where a very forthcoming priest waited for them.

“I love you so much.”, Izuna whispered and curled his fingers around Hashirama’s. “And I want this so much. But are you sure? I’ll never let you go after this. This is eternal. And when I say eternal, I mean all the way to the Pure Lands and beyond. You'll never get rid of me.”

“I want eternal, Izuna. Not even the Sage could stop me from finding you everywhere and anywhere.”

“And I’ll find you. Come what may.”

Hashirama beamed so brightly at him, that Izuna quickly had to avert his eyes. He felt the pressure of tears already welling up there, and he didn’t want to cry on his own wedding.

At least not before it had even started.

Chapter Text

🙥❀🙧

House of the Senju Clan Head

“Sorry for calling you that late, Otoma-san.”, Tobirama murmured without actually looking up and wrapped up the finished scroll and pulled over more scripts and scrolls. “We’ll be finished here very soon; I am sure of it. Please, take a seat.” He pointed to the legless seat in front of the low, traditional desk.

It felt weird sitting here. Not because of the traditional furniture, but because it was Hashirama’s desk. Tobirama had decided to use Hashirama’s representative room and study for Clan Head matters. Hashirama’s house was almost in the center of the Senju Compound while his own was in the outer skirts. It was more convenient for all the people if they found him here during the times he had announced for visitors.

It was weird to sit here; Hashirama and Izuna were now gone for three weeks, longer than they usually stayed on their vacations. Usually the Clan matters run so smoothly that Tobirama didn’t have to look into the intern paperwork when Hashirama was only gone for a few days. But today, when finally the masses of duties he had to look after as interims Hokage had ebbed down, he finally found time to have a look at his Clan’s matters. More of curiosity and worry that there might be something urgent hiding under stacks of scrolls and papers and books.

But no. Hashirama’s private office was almost mockingly void from work; there were only a few letters and entries to the pedigree waiting for signature, but nothing that couldn’t wait for Hashirama’s return.

To say it in one sentence: Tobirama was impressed.

He had always thought that his older brother was quite lazy when it came to paperwork and organizing, but obviously he wasn’t. In the eight years since the founding of Konoha Tobirama hadn’t been asked to set any foot into his Clan Head’s office to help out at anything like he used to. And while Clan matters went smoothly, he had still expected the worst when he came over today.

But well… surprise, surprise.

Maybe it was a little bit Madara’s good influence (the fact alone that he thought something like that made Tobirama shiver). Despite every worry and prejudice, Madara turned out to be a decent leader, very diligent with paperwork and talented with organization. But not only that was something that proved Tobirama’s former opinion about the Uchiha wrong.

Madara really thrived since Konoha had been founded and especially since he married Mito and found a family. All the lurking madness Tobirama had always believed to see in his eyes was gone. He was still ruthless if needed, had still his edge as warrior (he became even stronger if what he had heard about the fight against the Kyūbi was right), was still most of the time a snarling asshole, but he also had become softer and showed absolutely no shame about coddling his children in public, caring shit about the others’ opinion about it. Only a few days ago he had ‘kissed a knee better’. Tobirama had never ever in his life heard that a kiss could make a scrapped knee better or that a five-year-old Ninja-to-be had a need for something like that, but obviously Madara’s twins had. Especially because the cunning little brat had only started to cry about the knee when she had been sure that Madara was looking!

On the other hand… he faintly remembered being a boy and having his big brother fussing about his injuries. It had been embarrassing mostly, but somehow also reassuring. How would he feel now, had his father been like Madara – showing openly care and affection and not only treating him like a spendable little weapon. Would it be easier now to care for his own daughter? Would… it be easier to show that he really appreciated his big brother’s efforts to care for him?

It was painfully weird; even Tobirama realized that himself. He loved his brother. He missed his brother only after three weeks of not having him around badly, but he never could tell him. As soon as Hashirama returned, Tobirama would start complaining again about those stupid hugs and conversations and every other form of affection that his brother usually forced on him. Accepting a hug without a growl? Not possible. Telling his dear brother that he actually loved and needed him? Not even when the sun started to rise in the North.

But yes. Yes, he missed all those stupid antics. He missed his brother. His family.

Surprisingly, he also missed training with Izuna, just as he missed the sharp comments with which the saucy marten provoked him until he told him things he didn't want to tell anyone. Things about what he thought and how he felt. Izuna was dangerously skilled in luring his true colors out of him. At the beginning he suspected that maybe Hashirama had instructed his Loverboy to spy on Tobirama’s feelings, because usually only Hashirama was interested in those stupid motions the pumping organ in his chest could produce (or his brain; Tobirama’s current experiments with the Edo Tensei rose questions about where the soul sat and where emotions were produced, and he was quite certain that it was the brain, but Hashirama had always insisted that it was the heart). But surprisingly, Hashirama didn't know about the things Tobirama had let slip to Izuna. This led Tobirama to the almost disturbing conclusion that the marten not only seemed genuinely interested in these private topics but had also kept his mouth shut. It was kind of nice. It was also kind of not too much of a surprise, because well… Izuna and Hashirama lived obviously in their very own world where intense talks about feelings and hours of cuddling were an actual thing.

They were like a two-headed demon of emotional support and socialization, kind and devotedly doting to each other, and sickeningly caring toward their family. And apparently Tobirama was at the top of families' lists for both of them.

And no matter how annoying and twisted and disturbing (really... Izuna considered him a member of the family?) the whole thing was, and no matter how much Tobirama would resist admitting it for the rest of his life... it didn't change the fact that he suddenly felt abandoned and lonely.

Yes, there was Hanako. He wasn’t exactly lonely and bare any family. But Hanako was a tiny little girl. Someone who relied on him, someone who came to him and asked him to explain things he sometimes barely understood himself. He needed an adult to talk to. Someone who could understand what he said and someone who didn’t need him to explain anything from the scratch.

It was the creepiest thing that this drew him to Madara.

Of all people, Uchiha Madara.

They shared Hokage duties surprisingly successfully in Hashirama’s absence and one evening Madara had invited him and Hanako over. To his home. He, Senju Tobirama, was invited to “grab a drink and have a dinner” into Uchiha Madara’s most private domain, his home, where he lived with his children. Underaged, defenseless little Uchiha children. Supposedly only at the request of Mito but wonders over wonders he had a nice time. They had Sake and shared some stupid stories about their respective brothers and Tobirama might admit on the day he admitted that he loved Hashirama’s hugs, that he enjoyed Madara’s quick mind and dry humor enough to stay longer than he had planned to.

He might even have admitted that he missed Hashirama and that he admired how his brother suddenly was able to keep his paperwork oddly neat.

Madara had laughed about that and asked him if he was blind or hadn’t seen the stacks of paper in the Hokage’s office with Hashirama’s chicken scratches on it?

He had. But those chicken scratches were nothing in comparison to the mess he had seen in the past.

And well, about the papers, scrolls and books in the Senju Clan Head’s realms… It had been an epiphany to see them. Tobirama had browsed through the collection of the last eight years and they were perfect. Whoever had done the paperwork for Hashirama since his inauguration, they were a genius and definitively greatly responsible for everything in the Senju Clan had been going on so smoothly the last few years. Those scrolls and books were some of the most amazing paperwork Tobirama had ever seen in his life. He had expected Hashiramas barely legible chicken scratches, but no. Every piece of information, every contract, every birth entry, just… everything that had happened within the last eight years had been written down in a very neat, almost calligraphic handwriting. Everything in short, concise sentences or keywords. Everything in logical order and mapped with references and other documents. There was a logical system on the shelves and finding something had never been easier. It was an archivist's wet dream come true.

Tobirama hadn’t known that Otoma had it in him. But Hashirama’s secret new help had to be Otoma, he was the only valid option. Otoma was Hashirama’s left hand by rank and his successor by birth if he and Tobirama died heirless; he had the influence and the trust to handle Clan matters in Hashirama’s stead. And although Tobirama had always considered the older man to be an excellent general and charismatic leader, he could never have imagined such extraordinary precision and tidiness when it came to paperwork. Tobirama was almost in love with that artful piece of work and he really looked forward to working with Otoma this evening.

“Otoma-san, I called you because I saw into our Clan intern documentation. I am very pleased with your work; you certainly are a great support to my brother and Clan, don’t worry. I only asked you to come here to bring me up to date in case there are any matters that require my attention during my brother's abs..”

“I am very sorry, Tobirama-sama, for interrupting you.”, Otoma bowed formally with an embarrassed face, “But… I hadn’t had my hands on any Clan related paperwork for years.”

“You… haven’t?”, Tobirama muttered and felt a little bit dumbstruck. “But who had?” Hashirama certainly not. It was neither Hashirama’s handwriting, nor his style. “The work is done flawless, over years. If not you, WHO did it? Your son? Whoever it is, bring him to me!”

“I am sorry again, Tobirama-sama. But I won’t be able to do fetch this person for you.”, Otoma said and averted his eyes, clearly uncomfortable now. “You see… Izuna-sama did all those work. It thought you knew.”

“I… Izuna.”

“Yes.

“As… in Uchiha Izuna.”

Otoma looked at Tobirama like a man who wanted to disappear into the ground. He seemed really uneasy with Tobirama’s disbelief. “Yes, Tobirama-sama. Uchiha Izuna. Hashirama-sama introduced him to the duties of our Clan about a year after Izuna-sama moved in and Izuna-sama took over fully about two years ago.”, Otoma said and finally managed to look up. He gave Tobirama a very careful, inquisitive look. Then he straightened his back. “Right after their overly luxurious vacation they took their official dressing with them.”

The ‘overly luxurious vacation’, oh yes. Tobirama knew that one. He had no proof but he was quite sure what his brother and his lovey-dovey-boy had done back then. And Otoma’s words only hardened that idea.

Otoma gave him a knowing look and proceeded. “It IS traditionally the wife’s duty to handle minor issues for the Clan Head, you know? I guess since Izuna-sama is no woman who has to look after children and he also received an excellent education, Hashirama-sama had no issues with handing over him more responsibilities. At last Hashirama-sama did only the major meetings himself and signed what needed to be signed by himself.”, Otoma declared now very calmly and convinced, “It had been very pleasant to work with Izuna-sama, if you don’t mind my humble opinion. He is always very kind and polite and also very clear in his instructions.” Otoma frowned. “I thought that would have been in your interest too, Tobirama-sama. You made it very clear that Izuna-sama, as Hashirama-sama's significant other, should be treated accordingly. So we did.”

Tobirama stared at the older man without blinking. It was hard to grasp and it was even harder to grasp that he hadn’t seen it for eight years. Yes. Yes, back than when he had realized that Hashirama’s feelings for Izuna were set in stone he had told the Clan and especially the Elder that Hashirama's partner must be respected and that he did not want to hear a single wrong word about Hashirama's choice of partner or his sexual orientation. But he hadn't expected that he had more or less granted Izuna the position as a spouse with that! Even more than that! He had paved the way for him to basically take over the whole Clan!

“So… you want to tell me that every smaller meeting, every document, every contract, every entry in the Senju pedigree and every entry in the book of the deceased had been made by Izuna?”

“Yes, that it is, Tobirama-sama.”

“The discussions with the Elders about planned marriages, the organization of the funerals, the coming-of-age rituals and every single decision what supplies and what things should be bought as Clan expensed had been made by IZUNA? Has Hashirama at least selected and classified our ninja himself or was that also IZUNA’s doing?!?”

“Yes. Everything. The ninja, too. Izuna-sama is very skilled in organizing manpower and has proven a fine eye for judgement of skills. I was…  Is… is anything wrong, Tobirama-sama?” The man seemed to be now really unsettled and Tobirama could understand him. He felt unsettled himself!

“No! Nothing! Everything is fine. Everything is perfect! The fucking little bone-assed marten ran the Clan better than Hashirama and I together, even better than our father and his father! We are better organized than ever before, the people are healthy and happy, the books have never been so accurate, our economy is at its peak and even the damn ancestor book has been copied and preserved! It's ..."

… a shame that basically a fucking Uchiha had been leading the Senju Clan for two years and nobody had noticed it! Except of Hashirama, of course, who had probably been happy as a kid to avoid the related paperwork.

“… a shame that Izuna-sama isn’t acknowledged as spouse to our Clan Head in public?”, Otoma asked in a careful voice and gave Tobirama a very intelligent and questioning look. Tobirama hesitated. Same sex marriage was still a delicate issue in the village and among most of the clans. There was a huge difference between turning a blind eye to Hashirama living with Izuna like a married couple would, or how Hashirama was so touchy with the Uchiha even in public, and to announce them officially husbands of each other.

Even with that fancy vacation back in mind.

Otoma’s face told him that this wasn’t just the question of a moment. Otoma seemed to have waited for the perfect moment to ask this. And well…The man was not by accident the general of the Senju. He was third in command by birth, but the title of a general came only by respect and reputation, either by acts of unbelievable strength (like Tobirama) or by leading qualities. Otoma had the latter and people of the Clan trusted him. (Hashirama had had both: unbelievable strength and a natural leader’s personality and above it all people just liked him and followed him therefore.) He was qualified in representing a great majority of Clan members and if Otoma more or less suggested Tobirama to think about changing marriage politics for the benefit of Hashirama and Izuna, there was obviously a lot to it. Maybe the Clan had already changed without any of them actively noticing it?

“Yeah. Really a shame.”, Tobirama muttered not really convinced and sighed. Hashirama deserved to live the life he wanted to live. With the partner he loved.

Ugh. The thought alone still felt worse than seeing the two lovebirds with each other. Tobirama had seen them crawling and fussing over each other more than he could count by now, but thinking actively about them as lovers or partners in marriage…

Well, he always had told Hashirama that semantics mattered.

“I don’t know…”

Tobirama abruptly raised his head, as he was not accustomed to Otoma speaking without being asked.

“I also talked to our forces about emergency protocol.”, Otoma told him carefully but with a certain determination in his voice. “Clan intern emergency protocol says if the Clan Head and the Heir are not available, the third in command is taking over. In my eyes that is Izuna-sama. Our shinobi and kunoichi agreed with great majority to that. I was about to bring that up to you and Hashirama-sama as soon as he is back, but well… as we are talking right now…”

Tobirama felt as if his brain was frozen. Did thinking feel like this for normal, slow people? Every thought crawling through his mind slowly and hardly to sort?

“You tell me, you talked to our forces, the SENJU forces about giving UCHIHA Izuna full military authority in case the Clan Head and me are absent?”

“And if the Hokage doesn’t command otherwise.”

“And the Clan… was fine with that idea?”

“Yes. Every single man and woman.”, Otoma confirmed with some odd pride, “They agree that it is the duty of the Clan Head’s spouse as long as they are capable. We see Izuna-sama as capable.”

Tobirama stared, his mind still slow and his mouth dry. So. The little marten not only had led his Clan for years by paper pushing, but also by worming his way into their military organization and force.

Tobirama snorted, somewhere between laughter and indignation. A little over eight years ago, he had accused the cunning little marten of trying to worm his way into the heart of his clan in order to spy on its secrets and position himself as the man behind the scenes. Now he was proven right. Izuna had been sitting right in the center of his Clan like a spider and pulled strings. He knew by now probably more about everything in the Senju Clan than Tobirama himself. But instead of destroying them from the inside, like Tobirama had expected him to do, he had helped the Senju Clan and their people to thrive.

Part of him still wanted to claim that it was too much. That Izuna was born to be an enemy. That it was like succumbing to Uchiha if they treated Izuna like a legal spouse to Hashirama and handed him over the Senju Clan on a silver plate like this.

Yet, summed up, Izuna was more or less Clan Head of the Senju, in all but name. And his fucking people were fine with it!

That was worse than every Genjutsu.

Tobirama didn't know whether to cry or laugh, because he had never been so right and so wrong at the same time in his life.

Izuna could have destroyed the Senju for eight years now. And he hadn’t. (Madara, as Hokage, had a certain power for that, too, so… they were royally fucked.)

“Hashirama-sama has once again demonstrated his great foresight and excellent knowledge of human nature.”, Otoma led on and made again a deep bow, “You might want to consider to adopt Uchiha Izuna into our Clan, when he comes back, Tobirama-sama. It would clean up any remaining uneasiness of name and also make the things easier for… the question of marriage.”

Adopting Izuna into Senju? That was a bold thing for Otoma to suggest. Tobirama hadn’t thought of that before, even if was not so rare that capable and trusted men or women would be adopted into the Senju Clan. Usually people who were not bound by their own Clan already, but… Honestly, he had always thought if Izuna ever would become officially Senju it would be because of a very scandalous marriage and causing major troubles. But adopting him sounded far less scandalous for now.

Adopting an Uchiha into Senju and of all people the bloody Clan Head's brother?

Really? As credit to his abilities and loyalty? Well, given that Izuna had had his fingers in Senju business for years, that was a valid point. Yet, it was bizarre. It would change a lot. It was…  It would lay open what had been under the surface and give more credit to Izuna than Tobirama had ever thought he would deserve.

But actually, he deserved is. With the whole shit Tobirama had discovered now (He would have to have a serious word with Hashirama about the fact that he had more or less transferred the duties and privileges of Clan Leader to Izuna without at least informing Tobirama; foresight and excellent knowledge of human nature, that he didn't laugh! His brother was exactly the lazy dimwit he had always thought him to be!) it would be easy to point out Izuna's usefulness for the Clan.

It also would ease the horrible idea of Uchiha Izuna being the third in command for the Senju Clan. Because then he wouldn’t be Uchiha Izuna anymore. The loyalties would be clear again; at least, as clear as they were with every wife or husband who married into Senju. They came as blood of another Clan and stayed as blood of the Senju, no discussions about who to prefer when there had been decisions to be made.

And there would be a contract. There would be boundaries and rules.

Tobirama liked boundaries and rules and contracts.

To his own surprise he found that he liked the whole idea.

It would tidy up wishy-washy questions of loyalty.

He could steal Madara’s precious little brother into his family and even ask for amends.

It would give Tobirama a kind of younger brother, make them a family, and resolve his tormenting thoughts about Izuna already treating him like a brother-in-law.

It would ease the way for the official marriage that Tobirama knew Hashirama longed for.

Senju Izuna.

Tobirama frightened the shit out of Otoma when he started to laugh almost hysterically at the sound of this.

Chapter Text

🙤❀🙦

House of Izuna and Hashirama

“You're going to learn how to cook.”

It was impressive how visible the difference was. Izuna was usually quite pale, but now he turned literally white. Hashirama knew that his pretty one was convinced of his cooking-disability, but he didn’t know that it frightened Izuna like this.

“No.”

“Oh come on, Pretty. Just something simple. Please?”

“There are children present in the house, Hashirama. Do you really want to traumatize them for life?”

“Ah, come on, Izunacchi-chan. Just the egg-soup. It is really simple, nobody could mess it up!”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.”, Izuna muttered, but came closer, almost as wary as a deer in the woods. The two little girls in their living room looked up curiously and Hashirama gave them a little wave. Nojiriko frowned; a tiny, cute copy of Madara’s smoochy brows. Hanako smiled carefully back and he sent her an encouraging grin. At that she made a skeptical face and turned back to proceed with her homework. Hashirama chuckled. At least she had smiled a bit for him. His little niece was so earnest all the time, trying desperately to copy her father to please him. But Tobirama’s attitude was far too stern for a cute little girl with shiny white pigtails and crimson eyes, so Hashirama did his best to sabotage that attitude by cheering her up and encouraging her to smile and laugh. He even once told her a bedtime story about Tobirama's smile being stolen by a witch and his adventurous journey to get it back. Well. That hadn't been such a well-thought-out idea, because the first thing Hanako asked him afterwards was, why Nojiriko or her mother would steal a smile. (He had forgotten that Madara nicknamed his wife and daughters as ‘witches’.) And then she had pointed out every single logic fault in his story. He had been close to crying until the point she was satisfied with his answers; his cute little story not longer a cute little story but a very elaborated deduction about why a witch, if existing, would steal a smile and how someone could get it back.

Fortunately Izuna, red faced and teary eyes from laughing, had told him that he loved the first version of the story more.

"Pretty-please, Izunacchi? Only the soup."

“Oh, quit those puppy-eyes, you impossible man! For Indra's sake, just show me how to make that stupid soup. The sooner you see it is impossible, the sooner I can go and buy some takeout from the dumpling store down the street.”

“No dumpling todays!”, Hashirama cheered and dragged Izuna into the kitchen.

One hour later he was considering that it was really impossible to teach Izuna cooking. Their tries resulted in one pot of very, very over-seasoned ‘soup’; something that was more or less water with a stone on the ground; several pots with black burned eggs swimming like flakes; one completely ruined pot with black egg-crust on the ground and no soup left; finally a half-full pot with soup-like fluid that was grey but actually tasted edible. After the last try Izuna had been so frustrated that he just grabbed the burning hot pot with his bare hands and no protective chakra. He burnt himself so badly that Hashirama had to heal him. Of couse he was on the peak of the Uchiha-grumpyness after that.

The whole process of "cooking" was colorfully adored with so many cusswords out of Izuna’s mouth that Hashirama was very certain he had learned a completely new vocabulary.

“I told you so! We wasted a lot of time and good eggs, and won nothing.”, Izuna growled and poked with a long finger at the new, slightly off-colored skin of his palm. He made the face of a martyr and shot the pot with soup a nasty glare. Not that Hashirama didn't find that absolutely adorable. Izuna could basically make any face he wanted and he'd think he was pretty (and cute; but never mention you think an Uchiha is cute. Especially not this one.)

“Oh, at least we won some experience.”

“I hope your experience includes the knowledge that I. CAN’T. COOK!”

Hashirama sighed and wrapped his arms around Izuna’s smaller frame to rest his chin on his husband’s head. Izuna seemed to feel that he was kind of disappointed, because he gave in immediately and nuzzled his nose against his skin. And well… he was kind of. He had thought it would be a nice idea to teach his beloved the only thing he remembered clearly from his mother. But it felt too sappy to mention this, even for him. And he didn’t want to force something on Izuna anyways by making him feeling sorry for him.

“Hey, big boy.”, Izuna said softly and caught his face with his palm. A gesture so familiar after the seven years they had been living together now, that Hashirama automatically relaxed. “I'm sorry, but... I don't think I'll ever get it. We’ll just get angry at each other and I don't like that. So… how about this: You teach the recipe to Hanako-chan and Nojiriko-chan and I’ll be your assistant? I guess I can keep an eye on their tiny little fingers to avoid them getting burnt. I am basically an expert on that now.”

Hashirama felt warmth bloom through his guts and sighed again, this time more content. That was a compromise he could live with. Even more, when Izuna added, “I know it is your mother’s recipe. So it is far more sensible if Hanako-chan learns it as your youngest relative. And I… just profit from your skills and enjoy a soup only you make for me. Because that it is for me. Your soup.”

Well… how could he be sad about that? That was even better, because… he liked to care for Izuna. He also liked to care for Tobirama (if he let him) and his Clan and Konoha, but caring for Izuna was special.

“Hm… I didn’t know you liked it so much.”, he hummed and rubbed his hand over Izuna’s back. The smirk he got for this was sweet as ever.

“Hm. It was the first thing you ever cooked for me. After a very special night.”

“Ah… Remind me, what made that night so special?”, Hashirama playfully sung despite the fact that he remembered very well. How could he forget something like that? The memory alone made Hashirama all fuzzy: His perfect Izunacchi squirming under him the first time was something Hashirama loved to recall again and again and again.

“You’re a pain in the ass.”, Izuna grunted more fondly than annoyed and Hashirama chuckled.

“Ah, but it’s a sweet pain.”

“If you think it's so sweet, how about I am the pain today?”, Izuna purred and Hashirama admired how his pupils dilated and his face got that certain lewd expression. Hashirama felt a shudder of arousal run through his body. He loved the rare occasions Izuna liked being on top; there was something very special about laying under his lover and feeling him inside.

Not that he didn’t love the other way around just as much.

Instead of an acoustical answer Hashirama just lent forward and chased Izuna’s full lips for a kiss. He could feel him melt in his arms, soft and pliant, while Hashirama licked his way into his mouth. It was fantastic how unguarded Izuna could get if he just kissed him right.

“Gross, I know. Mother and Father do it, too.”

“But why?”

“Mother said she likes it. And father says it’s something people do when they are in love.”

Hashirama groaned into the kiss, the whispering squeaky voices were barely to overhear. Nothing could kill the mood more than nosy little children. How could he forget that Nojiriko and Hanako had been lingering around in the living room? With a sigh he pulled the embarassed Izuna against his body and looked over his shoulder to the two girls. Nojiriko and Hanako were barely hidden, both looking around the corner of the door like a two-headed snake. For a moment he felt that odd relief he always felt when he saw children failing at being perfect little ninja. His father would have killed him, if he had been so obviously snooping around and getting caught, even when he had been at their age. His father had expected him to perfect his spying skills very early. Nobody expected this from these girls, even if they were two Clan Heiresses and two of the best trained kunoichis of their age.

Wasn’t it a great sign of peace that they could afford to let their children ‘slack off’ and gifting them with more time to be children?

“Don’t you know spying on your uncles is rude, you little jackanapes?”, he asked and tried to pull up his eyebrow like Madara did. It looked probably ridiculous on his face, because Nojiriko just grinned, showing a gap in her front teeth. She had lost the little milk tooth only a few days ago and had shown it to them so proudly as if it was the achievement of the year. Hashirama couldn’t remember losing his own milk teeth, but he had honored the little girl with the appropriate respect and she had been very pleased. Especially when Izuna offered her to teach her how to make a treasure chest of paper to keep the tiny little tooth safe.

“It’s not rude. It’s intelligence gathering.”, the Uchiha girl told him precocious and entered the room, pulling a rather flustered Hanako on her hand behind her.

“Not if you are whispering so loudly that even your deaf granny all the way in Uzushio could hear you. Then it’s just clumsy.”, Izuna snorted, apparently having recovered from his fit of embarassement. Nojiriko pulled a sheepish face. It was kind of interesting for Hashirama to see how much the girl differentiated between people. On the one hand she barely cared for Hashirama’s opinion about her, always precocious and a little bit bratty. She was probably copying Madara's brash behavior with him and their constant banter. She even made sometimes the same face as Madara: as if he was some kind of fool that you just had to be patient with. Sometimes Hashirama wasn't sure if he found it funny or annyoing. On the other hand as soon as Izuna said something slightly critical, she was concerned. And if Madara looked at her the wrong way even once, it was as if a lightning storm had broken out above her. She would become oddly eager to do anything to please him and prove her worth. Hashirama knew that Madara was sometimes a little bit concerned by this behavior, as he always tried to be a patient father. But that was probably just Nojiriko’s nature. The four-year-old twins were just her opposite: Equally bratty and clingy around Madara and they talked back with next to no respect as long as Madara made not ‘that face’. ‘That face’ was the one that made even Hashirama cautiouos.

But well, the effect of 'that face' would probably stop as soon as the twins hit puberty. Hashirama was looking forward to that spectaculum. He wanted a front row seat when they started picking their poor father apart.

“We’ll do better next time, Oji-san.”, Nojiriko sighed, but then flashed immediately her most winning smile again. “Oji-san? Do you love Hashi-san?”

“Don’t call him Hashi-san. That’s weird.”

“I like it.”

“You have an odd taste in nicknames, you don’t count.”, Izuna snorted to Hashirama’s opinion and eyed Nojiriko. “You have seen us kissing before, why are you so curious about it suddenly?”

“Just because.”

“Nojiriko-chan, ‘just because’ isn’t an answer.”

Nojiriko shrugged. “We talked about kissing today at academy. All the boys found it gross and it IS gross. At least the way adult do it with each other. I am okay when Mother kisses my forehead or when Father gives me a peck on the cheek. And I like kissing Hanapi-chan. But not the thing with the tongue. Ewh.” She stuck out her tongue. “It’s so wet and slobbery! Gross!”

“And how would you know that it is so ‘wet and slobbery’?”, Izuna asked with that investigative voice that made Hashirama a little bit nervous. Nojiriko seemed to fear nothing, but Hanako went all red and tried to hide her flushed face behind Nojiriko’s impressive shag of black hair.

“Because I tried it with Hanapi-chan, obviously! Mother said, you want to do the tongue-thing with someone you want to married! And I want to marry Hanapi-chan. But the tongue was still gross.”

Hashirama blinked in surprise at the two little girls, feeling a grin tug at his mouth. The two girls were just too adorable with each other. He loved both of them dearly, only that he sometimes felt for Hanako (Or Hanapi, he appreciated Nojiriko’s choice of nickname a lot.) more like a father than like an uncle, given how often she stayed with them when Tobirama succumbed himself to his researches. Tobirama wasn’t exactly suited to be a father. He was a very capable teacher and he did love his daughter, no doubts on that, but most of the time he seemed to be a little bit overwhelmed by fatherly duties. Especially when it came to emotions. Hashirama knew that his little brother had a troubles with expressing his own emotions, especially the softer ones. Yet, he was a kind person and able to love his child. He only expressed his kindness and love differently. Like by sending his little half-orphaned daughter over to her uncle's. Tobirama never said it, but Hashirama knew that his brother appreciated the loving atmosphere in his and Izuna's home. He was probably also aware that their house was most of the time occupied by children of different ages visiting, be it Kagami and his team or Madara’s daughters or Hikaku’s youngest son. Tobirama wanted Hanako to have contact with other children, and Hashirama thought this was a very considerate wish for a father who had trouble making friends and letting people get close to him.

By observing Tobirama, Hashirama had learned to understand his own father. The older Tobirama became, the more traits shared with the late Butsuma. Somehow that soothed a pain in Hashirama's guts that had been so constant and deep since his early childhood that he didn't even know it existed until it dissipated. He assumed that Butsuma probably had loved him and his brothers just as Tobirama loved his daughter, but he hadn't been able to handle it. He probably hadn't known how to express love and care in a softer way than teaching them how to survive and trying to harden their hearts against emotional pain. Tobirama was so similar, he tried to teach Hanako everything he knew, but most of the time he just looked at her in stern confusion when Hashirama knew that all she needed a hug or a kiss and not a lecture. Exactly as Butsuma had done. When Hashirama had beena child himself that had hurt a lot; but now, when he looked back as an adult he could almost pity his old man.

But even if they were similar, there was big difference that mattered in Hashirama's opinion a lot: Other than their father Tobirama accepted love and especially help. Together they had found a way how Tobirama could deduce consciously if Hanako needed a hug or a little love, as it came not naturally to him, and Tobirama tried so hard to give her the sighns of love she needed when she needed it, that Hashirama was really proud of him.

Seeing his little brother surpass himself had brought Hashirama peace.

“… you kissed Hanako-chan. With your tongue. And you want to marry her.”, Izuna asked, perfect sculptured brow still rosen like a wing.

“Yes. Gross. Bleh.”, Nojiriko nodded and Hanako agreed visibly, “But I guess it’s okay. I am going to marry her anyways.”

Izuna snorted and hid his face on Hashirama’s shoulder, suddenly shaking uncontrollably. What looked and felt like a grown seizure could only be one thing: Izuna was laughing. And Hashirama could hardly hide his own broad grin. That would be the marriage of the century, if it ever came true. The future Clan Head of Uchiha and the future Clan Head of Senju, both girls, happily married?

Some of the Elders would die on the spot. Right now. While the girls were still six and seven and innocent and cute and had probably no clue what being married meant.

“Is Uncle Izuna alright?”, Nojiriko tilted her head in a bird like gesture, that reminded Hashirama strikingly on Madara, but bit her lower lip like Mito did.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess he is just happy that you like each other so much.”, Hashirama deadpanned and patted Izuna’s back. His pretty lover shook even more, an undignified snort escaping his nose. Hashirama grinned, while Nojiriko didn’t seem to be convinced.

“So, do you love each other? Father said, you kiss someone you love. But you are not married, so that is kind of weird.”, Nojiriko picked up her question from before and crossed her arms in determination.

“Yes. Yes, we love each other. Very much.”, Hashirama just confirmed, because it was true and he didn’t want it to be a secret within their family. It wasn’t even a real secret within the village anymore. After living together for eight years, surely no one could believe that they were just “friends” who kept each other company.

Well. To be honest, Hashirama was looking forward to being open about them being already married. The most greatest, biggest, fanciest whatever-est thing that ever happened in his life. His Izuna had said yes and they had their secret little trip to the shrine and now they were husbands in front of the divine. And honestly, only thinking about the word "husband" made Hashirama want to curl around Izuna and never let him go ever again. Izuna had made it sound like a threat when he told him that he considered this love eternity, but Hashirama couldn’t be happier. He wanted eternity. And he wanted people to know that he had Izuna for eternity. At least some.

Crap.

If it was about him, he would stand on top of the Hokage Tower and shout it over the village. Loudly. With firework.

“Oh. Hm. That’s nice, I guess?”, the girl muttered not really impressed.

“Very nice.”, Hashirama grinned and Izuna made a squeaking sound, “So… how about you two go wash your hands and then I am goint to show you how to cook the soup my mom taught me when I was as old as you are?”

Well, the enthusiasm wasn’t too big, but the girls hurried to wash their hands anyway. (It would turn out that Hanako was really talented at cooking and healing burnt fingertips, and Nojiriko at least was better at it than Izuna and did some impressive knife work on a radish.)

“Please…”, Izuna wheezed with teary eyes and sniffed, after the girls left the kitchen, “Please let me breaking that news to the future brides’ fathers!”

“Ah, Izunacchi. You are mean!”

“It’s brilliant! Them being fathers-in-law, they’d suffer sooo fucking much!”

“Still mean.”

“Ah come on, don’t play the holy-moly on this!”

Hashirama giggled and pressed a kiss on Izuna’s cheek. “At least let me see their faces when you do it. … And now, my dear cooking assistant… we need a clean pot. Go on, scrubb-scrubb.”

“… you’ll suffer tonight.”

Hashirama did hope so. But first, Izuna and the kitchen would suffer.

Chapter Text

🙥❀🙧

Uchiha Clan Camp, about 22 years prior Konoha's founding

“Give the baby to your sister and hurry up, Madara.”, Tajima growled and Madara could hardly suppress a puzzled look, when Myoko promptly pushed Izuna’s sleeping little form into his arms.

“Of course, father!”, she said calmly, a perfect impression of Madara’s obedient tone he usually had around their father. Tajima grunted and waved towards the woods, where their usual training place were.

“Get your gear and follow me.”, Tajima growled and then shot Madara a glance. “You can give him to your younger sister later. Your uncle asked for someone to help his wife around the house.”

“Kurohime-chan is not expected back until evening, father.”, Madara said politely, adapting his way of speaking to a woman’s speech. Luckily Myoko had a rather boyish way to talk, so it wasn’t too hard. Talking like Kurohime would have felt ridiculous.

Tajima gave his supposed daughter a dreadful glance. “Where’s she?”

“Training with the other girls, Erika-san wanted to teach them seasonal flora.”

“Why aren’t you there then?”

“I already know.”, Madara deadpanned, feeling personally attacked for his sister, and only remembered with delay to add a “… father.” to make his words at least halfway polite. Tajima, used to his daughter’s occasional lapses in politeness, only rose one of his brows but let it be. He seldomly cared to correct Myoko’s behavior these days. Probably because he didn’t care. Myoko was the Clan Head’s eldest daughter, she would be a desired wife regardless her boyish attitude. Yet, Myoko didn’t plan to become just a sweet little wifey to bear future warriors. She also didn’t want to become a standard kunoichi. Myoko planned to become the first female Clan Head, sharing the position with Madara. And Madara loved that. Myoko was his twin sister and the strongest, brightest human being on the whole wide world. At least as far as he knew. And she also was the one he loved the most. They shared everything and they would also share everything in the future. Even the duty and the honor to lead the Uchiha Clan.

“Ah.”, Tajima muttered rather unimpressed. “Where’s Togakushi-kun?”

“Training with Hikaku-kun, father.”, Madara said and rearranged the limbs of his youngest brother, so he wouldn’t slip. Izuna was heavier than he looked. A two-year-old with round cheeks and pudgy hands, but rather small in comparison to other boys his age. Another point grandmother never-endingly nagged about. She had told father to give Izuna away to Uncle Inaba’s household, but father had refused to do so. Madara never learned why, but he was really glad about it. Izuna belonged to them and they were all together perfectly capable of caring for him. Even their aunt, who came over every second day to look after them, said so. Izuna was tiny, but he was perfect in every other aspect. Well fed, clean, always happy and curious and eager to learn anything anybody showed to him. A few days ago, father had taken him to test his abilities and after he had watched Izuna weaseling over every obstacle and outrunning Kurohime who played “the enemy”, Madara had seen him nodding. A nod was in father’s world a high praise and Madara had been really startled, when father finally told him that he could start to teach Izuna how to handle his first kunai and how to cycle chakra.

Not to mention that Madara took that order very seriously. It was a giant honor and duty to teach his little brother how to become a shinobi.

“Do your best.”, Uncle Inaba had said later when Madara told him about it, “You can always come over and ask for advice. Izuna-chan’s life will depend on your teachings. It is not a shame to ask for help.”

“Okay.”, Madara had said and taken his uncle’s big, rough hand for a moment. He knew what the Clan said about Uncle Inaba and Uncle Tanba. Uncle Inaba had lost Uncle Tanba, when they had been on their first solo mission as boys, because Uncle Inaba had refused to get help when they had been in trouble but tried to solve their dilemma himself. Most of the Clan loathed him for it, but Madara thought, that they should have pity. He couldn’t even imagine how sad his uncle must feel about that. The idea alone that he could lose Myoko or Togakushi or Kurohime or… His gaze dropped to the pretty baby-boy in his arms, who trustfully slept and drooled generously on his violet yukata. Well. To be exact, it was Myoko’s yukata, so Madara didn't care.

“Hmpf.”, Tajima made and seemed to think for a while. “Fine. Then take your brother with you when you go over. Make sure you don’t impose on your aunt and be an actual help.”

“Yes, father.”, Madara said obediently and felt his heart pounding fast in his chest. He couldn’t believe that they had managed to fool father. Well, father was tired, even a blind one could see it. He had just returned from a big battle against the Senju-bastards and not slept for a second since then. Madara had no idea how he could be still awake. When they had made him staying up for three days in a row, he had been so tired and fuzzy in his head that he had started to fantasize and stumble over things that weren’t there. Father had said that he should have tried harder, because an enemy wouldn’t have mercy if he was sleep deprived. Uncle had said that he did actually quite good for a boy of his age. That had been after father had left and uncle had brought him home. Madara had asked him if he needed to do this kind of training again. He had been so whiny after that experience that he hadn’t been able to hold back his tears. Uncle Inaba hadn't blamed him for the tears, only picked him up and carried him to bed to tuck him in. Because, yes, he would need to train this again and again and again, because in one point his father had been right: The enemies would never hesitate to kill him, regardless what. Madara had only sighed, before he had been out like a light. 

So… father was tired and that certainly reduced his attention. But still, they wouldn’t have been able to fool him, if they hadn’t been perfect. Despite being boy and girl, Myoko and him looked quite alike by nature. Their hair had the same bushy texture that just defied gravity and any brush. They had the same dark eyes and they had the same height. Myoko was a little bit thinner than him and mother always said that Madara had the cuter smile. A fact they teased each other ruthlessly about: Madara Myoko, because she was not a cute girl and girls should be cute; and Myoko Madara, because he was a cute boy and boys never had to be cute. (Except maybe Izuna, but Izuna had been a newborn back then and was excused.) The biggest obvious difference was that Myoko was missing a piece of her front tooth. She had lost it in one of their sparrings.

They had discussed a long time about how they should do it. Father was a specialist for genjutsu and would see through every genjutsu they could use at their age. Even without Sharingan. Neither of them had a Sharingan and even if they had one, they couldn’t ever dream of wielding it against their father. Maybe later, when they were adults. But not now.

So, they had only a basic henge no jutsu and while it was easy to fake a broken tooth, the thing with the cute grin was a whole other level. There was rarely something to grin around father, but they were both perfectionists and their plan was also very risky. They wanted to convince father that Madara and Myoko were on every level the same. So much the same that even he couldn’t distinguish them. And therefore Myoko should be trained for Clan Head, too. If father saw through their fake without being convinced of Myoko’s capability, they would not only be punished for trying to fool their father, they also wouldn’t reach their goal. But if they tricked father successfully and revealed their trick on their own later, father could overcome his anger and would maybe agree to their idea. “Having him fall for our trick and convincing him of my strength in training, is only step one. Step two is talking him into believing, that he wasn’t embarrassed by us but he has raised us so greatly in shinobi skills that we could do that. Let me do the talking, okay? I’ll handle it! But I need your help to make him listening to me.”, Myoko had told him and grinned into the mirror to see why her grin was different to Madara's.

Well, Madara was very glad that Myoko would do the talking. He tended to be quiet and obedient around father, as it was usually expected from him and he didn’t want to disappoint anyone. And he was very eager to find out how to perfect their henge. They had spent hours together in front of a mirror and mapped their faces. They found out that Madara’s nose was a little bit longer than Myoko’s, but Myoko’s lips were a little bit fuller. Madara’s eyebrows were a tad bushier, Myoko’s ears a bit rounder. It were minimalistic differences but once seen they could not unsee it. For the first time in their life the twins realized that they were mirrors of each other, but not the same.

That realization had been so unsettling, that Myoko had taken his hand and kissed his cheek and whispered, “You’re still my other half, regardless.”, and Madara had agreed. They were two sides of one coin and that would never change.

And then he said, “I have a tiny mole right to my mouth. It’s really, really tiny and exactly were my cheek gets that stupid dimple when I smile.”

“I guess that’s what mother meant with cute. It makes the dimple looking deeper.”

“That isn’t cute.”

“Oh it is, believe me. You’re our cutie patootie!”, Myoko cooed and took his face between her hands to squeeze his cheeks as if he was a toy. Madara struggled, but not seriously. Instead he had to laugh, because he loved his sister so much.

But they not only had analyzed their faces, but they also watched each other walking and talking to do a perfect imitation. Once they had practiced while Izuna had been around and the poor little boy had been confused to tears because there had been suddenly "no Nii-chama" anymore, but "tu Nee-chama".

And now they stood here, in the bright daylight, and father talked to Madara as if he really was Myoko. Their plan worked.

It was kind of unsettling. It also was so great that Madara could barely keep himself from grinning.

“I promise, father. Neither me nor Izuna-chan will be trouble for uncle and aunt.”

“Good. And quit calling him “chan”. He’s no baby anymore.”, father growled and turned to Myoko, who was running with Madara’s kusarigama, shuriken bag and gloves towards them. “There you are, Madara. Go on, I have no time to lose.”, he grunted and opened the door of their home for Myoko to slip out. “Did you teach your little brother what I asked you to teach him?”, Madara heard their father ask, while the two of them disappeared.

Pride and joy flooded his body and he grinned broadly at Izuna. They had done it. The first step of their plan worked! Father really thought that Myoko was him and he was Myoko! He would see how strong and fast and skilled Myoko was and he would realize that they both needed to be Clan Head together!

And well… while Myoko would finally have the opportunity to enjoy father’s bone crushing training methods, Madara would have a whole afternoon to coddle Izuna and spend time with aunt and uncle. Uncle Inaba and Aunt Kanami wouldn’t rat them out if he stuck to Myoko’s explanation that they were young ninja and tricking their father, the best of the best among them, was the best training they could get!

Well. He was quite sure that Uncle Inaba wouldn’t rat him out anyways. Which brother could resist the chance to trick his brother a little bit every now and then?

Chapter Text

🙥❀🙧

Madara winced when he touched the scaring tissue under his left eye. It looked still bad and it felt even worse. But he would heal.

Eventually.

Okay, now he was dramatic. Of course it would heal. The scar would stay and it stung to his pride a lot that his face would be disfigured forever. Not only because of vanity, he didn’t have a grain of vanity in himself (“Oh, but you ARE a vain man, my dear, petty dragon. That obviously runs in the family. – Oh, please, stop growling and go down there already. You always look best down there, I promise.”), but because of the reminder that he wasn’t unbeatable anymore. He was forty-two now. His father had never reached that age and while Madara certainly didn’t plan to drop dead on the spot, he had come to the realization that he wasn’t twenty anymore, too. He was still one of the strongest man of the village, alongside with Hashirama and their little brothers, but things had become harder.

He was getting old!

He was going to be an old geezer who needed help to cross the common ground! An ugly old geezer with a fat scar under his left eye! Honestly, the thought of getting old was horrible. The thought that there would come a time when he wasn’t the strongest anymore, when there would be stronger men and women than him because his own damned age ate him up, because….

Okay, okay. He WAS dramatic. Maybe Mito was right and Nozomi had indeed inherited that trait from him. Mito called it “the fabulous Uchiha dramatics” and loved to point out how Nozomi, Izuna and him shared a certain tendency for brooding and temper tantrums and jealousy.

Not that his prickly witch couldn’t deliver a spectacle herself, as soon as someone only remotely criticized her. Like when he mentioned that her taijutsu certainly could use some rehearsal of the basics. Because yes, his wife was a prodigy in fūin jutsu, her chakra amount was legendary and he certainly didn’t want to be under that fist when she used her charka-enhanced punch, but else… well. Her performance on that day had been more that of an angry duck than of a real kunoichi.

And suddenly he found himself confronted with a jangling wife summoning all the plages down on him, because obviously offering some training to regain her shape after she had given birth to their first daughter two years ago had been the very wrong thing to do.

He still wasn’t certain what exactly had been his fault and what giving birth two years ago had to do with her performance in taijutsu. He even hadn’t used the duck phrase (Or had he? It was funny, wasn’t it?), he just had said that he could help her training, starting with some basics.

Well. At least the reconciliation-sex had been very nice and graced them with their twin daughters. Madara was absolutely sure that Nozomi and Akako had been conceived on that day.

He grinned slightly at the memory and palpated one last time over the scar. He should use that scar-softener later again.

“Does it hurt a lot, Father?”, a tiny voice asked and Nojiriko sat down next to him. Madara snuffed out the pipe he had been holding in his free hand. The habit of smoking was a new one. A bad one, too, but Madara liked it. It had something calming. Mito refused to kiss him after smoking, claiming that she would not put her mouth on an ashtray. He would probably stop that habit sooner than later anyways, but by now he didn’t feel like it yet. Still, he had enough sense not to smoke in front of the children.

“No, don’t worry. I was just lost in thoughts.”

“Ah.”, Nojiriko made rather ineloquently. She folded her little hands in her lap and looked at the blooming bushes in the garden in front of them. Madara sighed and pulled her closer in a one-armed hug. Usually she would complain that she was already too old for cuddles because obviously nine-and-a-half was a tremendous adult age (For Madara she wouldn’t be too old for cuddles until she had children on her own; or maybe just never.). That she didn’t this time told Madara that there was something wrong. Not that he needed it. The bruises and the swollen eye actually said enough.

“Do you want to tell me?”

“You’ll find out anyways, you’re Hokage!”, she mumbled and snuggled her head against his shoulder. She didn’t continue talking and Madara just waited. Sometimes the things needed their own pace.

Inside the house he heard Mito rustle and rattle, a happy, bubbly scream told him that their son had woken from his nap and had one of his funny moods. Han was the happiest and easiest child Mito and he had produced by now. No temper tantrums like Nojiriko had had at his age, not the wailing of loneliness the twins had been capable of (even if Mito or him nearly constantly carried them around). He had not tried to crawl or walk at an inappropriate early age like Nojiriko, nor did he have the worrisome huge chakra resources Akako used to throw against everyone she saw, nor had he Nozomi’s emotional dramatics who varied from haphazard crying to hysterical giggling. He was just a happy little boy, easily satisfied by a few cuddles, his food and a little bit playing. He slept a lot, ate a lot, grew a lot, and babbled a lot, just like a toddler his age should. The most exciting thing he was doing currently was developing a sense of humor. A two-year-old Uchiha with a knack for jokes and pranks.

Madara had two theories about his son: Either he would develop into happiest Uchiha the world had ever seen, luckily protected by three older sisters who already threatened to bite anyone who dared to look at their baby brother. Or he would turn into a serious troublemaker with the face of an angel.

“Just wait for puberty.”, Mito always said and Madara waited. Anxiously.

He was very afraid of puberty. He remembered his own rather confusing teenage days between war and the constant urge to war his father; he had survived Hashirama projecting his clumsy teenage-horniness on him; he had seen Izuna’s destructive teenage-antics. And currently they had a front-row-seat to the drama called “Kagami and the hormones” peaking in a soon-to-be teenage-father. But all of that would be nothing in comparison to what was going to come upon them in the next few years. He had three daughters. Three. Daughters. All of them Daddy’s girls. Mito had promised it would be hell and snickered like crazy, as if she knew something he didn’t know.

His father-in-law hadn’t been too much of help on that, too. Ashina had only turned pale when the word “puberty” was mentioned and looked at Mito in horror.

Now he worried a lot. The twins were practically born arguing with him, and they did so relentlessly over every minor issue. And although he secretly enjoyed their flimsy points and heated discussions, he had no illusions that these arguments would remain as amusing as they were at present.

At least Nojiriko didn’t show too many signs of the promised teenage-girl-craziness. Until now. Maybe this was going to change now.

“I was sent home from academy.”, Nojiriko finally sighed, “Sensei said I must tell you what I did and you will punish me for it.”

“Ah. Will I?”

“I don’t know. I had reasons.”

“Ah. You didn’t tell your reasons to your Sensei?”

“No. It’s Clan business. And family business.”, Nojiriko answered and wiggled herself out of his embrace until she sat face-to-face with him. “I wanted to talk to you about it anyways, but not to Sensei.”

“I get your point. So…?”, Madara asked and looked right into her eyes. He really liked the fact that she rarely looked away when he did that, even when he was angry with her. It made him believe that his daughter knew that he loved her, no matter what.

“There are these older children at school. No worries, I can usually handle them.”, Nojiriko told him with all the ‘adultish’ attitude a little girl could muster. “They got a new leader and he doesn’t like Uchiha. He said nasty things about you and especially about Uncle Izuna. It made me angry, but most importantly it made Hanapi-chan sad. You know she loves Uncle Izuna a lot.”

Yeah. Everyone knew that the Tobirama’s daughter loved Izuna like a parent. It was irony par excellence. Or karma.

“I… I got so angry and I wanted to protect Hanapi-chan, so I challenged them. All of them.”

“Did you win?”

“Of course!”, Nojiriko looked at him as if he was an idiot. “They’re only stupid children.”

She was a child herself and the other children were probably the no-goods from the senior year he already had heard of. They were all boys between eleven and fourteen, notoriously unruly and unnecessary brutal and just strong enough, but not overly skilled. There had been discussions of expelling them from academy, but Hashirama had opted to let them stay one year longer. They should have more time to calm down and learn to cooperate with others. Unfortunately, they did indeed learn to cooperate, but only with each other while bullying the younger children. They would have to decide on them this year. At least about the older ones. Either expelling them or handing them over to a jonin-sensei.

“So, at least you didn’t make a fool of yourself.”

“Yeah. So, you see, that one boy of them, Danzō-kun, he will train with Hanapi-chan and me starting tomorrow. Can you imagine, he is the one who is their boss! He is a coward. He hid behind the other boys. I told him someone with a mean attitude like his should at least be strong and brave. Can you imagine! And he is a crybaby! He even cried, just because I broke his nose! You know, with the upwards hook like Uncle Izuna does it! Danzō-kun said I only won because of the Sharingan and I said the day I’d need the Sharingan to beat his ass I’d call him Hokage! Because he will have to be as strong as a Hokage to make me need it!”

“So, these boys bullied you and you made their leader your sparring partner?”

“Yeah! He can’t be my enemy, if he’s weak, can he? I don’t like weak enemies. Especially not crying ones.”, she stated as a matter of fact and then a devious grin crossed her face, that was a lot her mother but even more her uncle. She even snickered like Izuna did when he thought he had been able to trick Madara into something. Madara hadn’t seen that facet of her yet. “Besides, it's better to turn an enemy into a friend anyway. Uncle Hashirama always said that. anzō-kun will realize that it's not worth messing with an Uchiha.”

Madara blinked slowly and then grinned. He was proud. He saw the bright future of his beloved Clan right in front of him.

Nojiriko grinned back and suddenly turned into a very girlish and shy behavior, he identified more with Hanako. He had often seen her wrapping poor Hashirama around her little fingers with that attitude. It wasn’t Nojiriko’s nature to act like this, but he could appreciate her attempt at using all the available weapons. “So, I did well, Father? There’s no reason for punishment? I didn’t really hurt my comrades, I just… taught them a lesson.”, she purred and looked at him with big black eyes.

Madara snorted and kissed her forehead.

“You still beat up weaker comrades. You are going to apologize to your teacher for causing trouble to him and I want you to reserve training field eleven for today evening. We will see how you feel to fight someone stronger than you.”

Nojiriko, who looked quite miffed at the idea of apologizing to her teacher, brightened up immediately. “Are you going to train with me?”

“I am going to beat you green and blue. Maybe fire and Sharingan will be involved.”

She squealed in delight. “May I try out your kusarigama? And the fan? I want to hold the gumbai!”

“If you can carry my kusarigama to the training field without setting it down, you can try it. But forget the gumbai. You’ll get your hands on that gumbai the day I tell you, not earlier.”

“The kusarigama! Wheeeee!”, she shrieked happily and showed two missing front teeth. It looked so adorable that Madara started to tickle her until she screamed, before he threw her over his shoulder and carried her into the house, where Mito could look after that swollen eye.

“Father?”

“Hm..?”

“He’s also kind of cute. Can an Uchiha Clan Head have a wife and a husband at the same time?”

Madara was VERY afraid of puberty.

Chapter Text

🙥❀🙧

About two years after Konoha’s founding, House of Senju Clan Head

“Ah… this must be the little Senju! A white kitten!”, Binchōtan muttered and stretched his neck to sniff the baby’s face. Hanako let out an enchanted squeal and tried to grab the cat with her pudgy hands. Binchōtan drew back lighting fast, but Izuna caught the girl’s hands anyways.

“Gentle, Hanako-chan. We only pet the kitty, no punching!”, Izuna cooed and waved Binchōtan over. “Come on, Binchō. Don’t be a coward. I’ll see that she doesn’t hurt you.”

The cat summon flickered his tail in suspicion, red eyes oddly similar to Hanako’s almond-shaped crimson eyes, gave Izuna a judging once-over.

“What do I get for entertaining you and the little rugrat?”

“Ah, please, Binchō! Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy. Can’t you humor me for once without bargaining?”

The cat-stare without blinking told him everything, and Izuna threw him a knowing look. “Okay, I have something for you, but you have to let her pet you as long as she wants to.”

“Tell me your offer, kitten.”

“Baby formula. Ever tasted that?”

He knew Binchōtan hadn’t. And he knew that the cat was curious by nature. He could see the temptation in the vibration of Binchōtan’s spread whiskers and the curl of his tail.

“I am honest with you, Binchōtan. I have tasted it myself, and it is awful. But I also think that mice taste awful, so…. What do I know?”

“Yeah, indeed…. What do you know, kitten.”, Binchōtan repeated and carefully pawed closer. “You’ll make sure she won’t rip out any whiskers? No biting, no punching and especially no tail-pulling? You ALWAYS pulled may tail when you were her age!”

“Promise!”, Izuna almost sung and reached out for his summon to scratch his ear. Binchōtan endured it for a while, until he sighed gravely.

“Okay. Fine. But only this one time. And I want to taste that baby formula.”

“Deal! And now come on, kitty! It’s kitty-petting time! Aren’t you excited to touch him, Hanako-chan?”

Oh yes, Hanako was excited.

She sat safely between Izuna’s legs, a white little blossom in a tiny pink baby-yukata (Sponsored by Uncle Izuna himself, because who could withstand to dress up cute little nieces?), happy and curious. She made another squealing noise, but when Izuna led her hand carefully to the cat’s side she petted his good old friend quite skillfully for an eight-month-old.

“Good job, Hanako-chan! Do you feel how soft his fur is? Binchōtan has the softest fur of all! Do you like that, Hanako-chan?”

Hanako seemed to like it, because she gifted them her best baby-laughter and extended eagerly her hand for a second go on kitty-petting. Binchōtan, despite his suspicion, seemed to like it, too. Because after a while he started purring and relaxed.

“Uh? Uh, uh, uh!”, Hanako alerted very eloquently and looked wide-eyed between Binchōtan and Izuna.

“He’s purring!”, Izuna laughed enchanted by her surprise, and scratched himself the spot behind Binchōtan’s whiskers, where he knew he liked it the most. “That means he likes it. Isn’t that so, Binchō?”

“Cats also purr to calm themselves.”, Binchōtan’s answer was quite snotty, but he purred even louder. Izuna had to give it to him – despite being smaller than an average housecat his purr was that of a tiger. And Izuna was quite sure that the cat was able to weave some jutsu into his purr, because usually he really felt calmer when he heard it.

“Thank you.”, he answered his old friend fondly and pulled Hanako’s hands softly away when she grew adventurous and tried to grab Binchōtan’s ears. “Not the ears, honey. He doesn’t like that. Only the side and between the ears. You see?”, he cooed and let her pet the cat a little more. “Did I really pull your tail?”

Madara had mentioned that their mother used to summon Binchōtan every once in a while, to look after her children. Especially after Izuna, as she had been already quite sick when he had been in Hanako’s age. Sometimes he felt as if he remembered it; only faintly, but Binchōtan’s fur always smelled like the coals he was named after and that scent triggered a very homely and peaceful feeling in Izuna.

“You pulled my tail, ripped out several whiskers, tons of fur AND you used me as a cushion. A. Cushion.”, Binchōtan did his best to sound scandalized, but he couldn’t fool Izuna. He knew that his summon loved him. Probably that was the reason why Binchōtan had appeared for him when Izuna had been old enough to sign the contract with one of the traditional Uchiha Summons. He had wanted to sign the contract with the falcons like father had, or the crows like Madara had. The crows were grim, but obedient and very useful for several Genjutsu. And the falcons were not only glorious, but also many. The smaller ones were excellent messengers spies, the big ones great warriors and able to carry up to several people through the sky.

The cats… were cats. Proud and independent and they had the drawback that you couldn’t just summon any of them. They tended to jealously guard Their Human. ‘Their’ with capital T, because obviously you wouldn’t choose the cat summon, the cat summon would choose you. But they were also skillful fighters, loving and caring, and loyal to death as soon as they had made their choice.

Binchōtan wasn't exactly a strong fighter. He was too small to be successful in a one-on-one, but Izuna avoided those on his usual missions anyways if he could. Sneakiness and stealth were much more his style and Binchōtan was great at both. OF COURSE little Izuna-chan from the past had hoped one of the great sabretooths or one of the tigers or at least one of the really big, grim cats with the patterned fur like tattoos would appear for him and was a little disappointed. He got Binchōtan. Binchōtan, the Sneak. Binchōtan, his mother’s summon, a known summon of only women. Binchōtan with his seemingly endless memory back to times Izuna’s mother’s great-great-grandmother had been not even a thought in her parents mind. Once Binchōtan had claimed that he had known Indra himself, had been the summon of his only daughter, but Izuna knew to take everything Binchōtan said with a grain of salt, because Binchōtan was also a chatterbox and a notorious liar.

And he loved Izuna from the depth of his purring heart, just as he had loved his mother and her mother and up to any mother in her bloodline he could remember. And Binchōtan could remember them all. At least he said so.

“I am sorry, Binchō.”, Izuna said, because even if he couldn’t remember doing that, he had manners. Binchōtan seemed to be pleased, because he hopped out of Hanako’s reach onto Izuna’s shoulder to lay there like a living, breathing scarf.

“You better are, kitten.”, the cat claimed. Obviously feeling extremely generous today he started to lick Izuna’s ear. “But you can be assured, so did Hinode-chan. She was the worst of all, and she still became a fine lady. Honestly, you remind me of her. She’s still there in your bloodline. Around your eyes and in the shape of your ears.”

“Hinode-chan. My…. Great-grandmother.”

“Yep. A real brat. Even later, when she was an adult. Tended to break the noses of all her suitors if she didn’t like them. She was very picky about her future husband. Got into a lot of fights about it with her parents after she saw this handsome dancer. They had the Clan Head’s third son in mind for her, but she wanted to have the dancer. And she did get him. My, did they dance! I think you also got your stubborn head from her; she never gave up. But you mostly come after Kokyū-chan.“

„Mother.“

„Yes. Pretty girl and really delicate, but strong willed. She also got the man she wanted to have, even if he turned out to be a real poochie.”

“A poochie?”

“Well, probably a well-bred pooch, but a pooch still.”, Binchōtan grinned and licked over Izuna’s cheek. “He always played the tough Alpha-wolf and she humored him. But as soon as she wanted him to do something for her, he wagged his tail and did it.”

“You are…. Are you talking about father?”, Izuna nearly choked on the thought, but Binchōtan only snorted. A really ridiculous sound coming from a cat.

“Of course I do, kitten! I am trying to tell you some romantic story!”

“My parents have a romantic story?”

“Ah, of course they have! Your mother’s line has always married for love. They would have been so proud of you for grabbing the boy you like!”, the summon purred and snickered. “Meanwhile, what is the white girl doing there?”

“Hanko-chan is… … eating her hand. Surprisingly babies seem to like that a lot. She’s really good at it.”

“I can’t remember that you did something like that.”

“I have style. I probably had style even as a baby.”

“Yeah, just tell yourself that, maybe it comes true sometimes.”, Binchōtan purred into his ear with a funny chuckle in his voice, and Izuna chuckled with him.

“So… you think mother would be okay with… him?”

“Of course she would! She would have loved him. Maybe you would have been a little bit jealous. She had always had a thing for the big boys, so she would probably have gushed a lot about him.”

“Ugh. Binchō!”

“What? She wasn’t blind, you know? And as far as my memories go back, all of your female ancestors knew exactly when they saw a handsome, strong and kind man. Usually they just married them.”

“Mother married father.”

“Yeah, what don’t you understand there? The pooch wasn’t so bad when she got him. I can’t judge that, I am a cat as you know, but she was all over ‘those defined abs’ and ‘the cute grim face’. I still wonder why he had to take his morning bath every fucking day in the ice-cold river on her favorite morning route.”

Izuna made a strangled noise. It sounded obviously funny, because Hanako started to imitated it with her high-pitched baby-voice.

“When they were finally over that awkward ‘I don’t look at you.’-phase he even brought her flowers. Very romantic thing, she said, to have the future Clan Head climbing through your window every morning and every evening just to deliver a flower.”

“He… brought her flowers?”

“Yeah, and she made sweets for him.”

“Father didn’t like sweets.”

“He liked the one she made for him.”

“….”

“Ah, but then the old bitch dragged that other girl out of the nowhere and suddenly all that romantic was for nothing, because poochie was also a coward when it came to his own mother. He nearly married the girl she decided on. Well. That was before your mother convinced him to spend at least one last night with her.”

“… Aghrl…. …”

“I wasn’t there, but she was all over the roofs afterwards, so he probably did well. Also gave him obviously the courage to talk back on his own mother for once, because he married my sweet Kokyū-chan. Seven months later they had their twins and that was when it started to be really cheesy. The pooch cried when he got to hold them the first time!”

“… father cried, when he held Nii-chan and Nee-chan the first time?”

“Yep. ‘was one emotional sobbing mess and promised to her that he would protect them with his life. Best father ever and whatnot.”, Binchōtan chuckled and extended his neck to watch how Hanako worked very hard on undressing herself. Absentmindedly Izuna caressed the girl’s head but let her do what she wanted to do. She needed to change into her sleepwear anyways.

“I don’t remember father being anything else than angry or stern.”

“Ah, like I said. He wasn’t always like that. He changed after Kokyū-chan died. Listened more to his mother again. But he never gave in when she wanted him to give you away. He said you were the last little flame his Kokyū-chan bore into this world and he would raise you at home with your siblings, no matter what. The old bitch was really angry then.”, Binchōtan sighed, “I guess he never could cope the loss. He really loved her. …. Are you crying?”

“….”

“Oh, kitten! Didn’t you know that? I should have told you earlier!”

“I always thought that maybe… that maybe he hated me, because… well… I killed her.”

“You didn’t!”, Binchōtan sounded really surprised now, “Why do you think you killed her?”

“Giving birth to me left her sick. She caught that disease because she was weak after my birth.”

“But that wasn’t your fault. They wanted you so much! Both of them! They wanted each of their children, but you… you were special. They almost thought that they would have to stop after four children, because Kokyū-chan didn’t conceive anymore. But then she had you and she was so happy! She made me sleeping on her belly so many times…. She always said then ‘Bintan, this will be my little sunshine! Tajima promised he’ll let me raise them in the tradition my family did it. He’ll even help me teach them my family’s jutsu! They’ll learn to dance, with and without the blade, and they’ll honor Mother Amaterasu like my family did it for years and years! They’ll wear the pretty red Haori and they’ll be so beautiful and they’ll fall in love and be happy, like I am happy!’”

A choked sob emerged Izuna’s throat, loud enough to make Hanako curious.

“Ooooooh!”, the baby-girl hooted and gave him a worried look.

“It’s okay, little flower.”, Izuna smiled and brushed the little tear from his cheek, “Uncle Izuna is only a little bit lost in Binchōtan’s sob stuff.”

“She’d be proud of you, kitten.”, Binchōtan only said, “You achieved everything she could have wished for you. And now... where is that baby formula?”

“In…”, a little sniff, “… in the kitchen. It’s time for Hanako-chan’s dinner anyways. Are you hungry, Hanako-chan? Do you want to have your night bottle?”

“Ohhhh! You think you could serve me the formula in a bottle, too? I’d like to try that!”

“Really Binchō? I guess I can find an old bottle for you.”

“Fine!”, the cat agreed and jumped off his shoulder to stroll into the kitchen, tail high and ears perked up, “And while you make the baby formula for us, I will tell you that really, really sappy story about your great-great-great-grandmother and that one-eyed barbarian. Or no! I tell you about Hinode-chan and her dancer first! THAT is the real smutty secret of your family! He had not only abs but also pecs and a thick, long…”

“BINCHŌTAN!”

“… ponytail!”

Chapter Text

The training was satisfying beyond his expectations. Madara still preferred to go all out against Hashirama; nothing had ever been so satisfying as that nor would ever be. The dances they had, blade and fire and wood, unending blasts of chakra and forcefully plowed earth. Nothing could compare to that.

But he had learned over the last few years not to underestimate Hashirama’s younger brother.

The younger Senju brother was not a disruptive force of Hashirama’s caliber but he was still a threat, especially if they broke it down to taijutsu only. He was fast and strong and very skilled in enhancing his natural strength by chakra.

Hit by one of Madara's kicks to the back, Tobirama was thrown forward but managed to get back up with a quick flick flack. He immediately started a counterattack and Madara took a huge blow to the chest and another to the cheek before he dropped backwards as if hit critically by the punch – faking it only, of course, because as he fell, he spun on his own axis. He swept Tobirama off his feet, but the slippery bastard caught himself with his hands. Madara followed up with more kicks, but Tobirama dodged each one, using only the strength of his hands and arms to catapult himself up into the air and finally, after some very impressive displays of body control, got back to his feet. Madara didn't let the attacks stop, however, and delivered a lousy kick to his opponent's knee that would have broken the joint had it been delivered with full force. Tobirama cursed loudly and filthily, and in the back of Madara's mind, the part of him that was now all father and aware of the very young audience felt tempted to reprimand Tobirama for it.

He didn't have time for that, because Tobirama went on the offensive again and if their training fight had been fast so far, it was almost breathtaking now. Madara had to admit that he was slowly reaching his limit in terms of speed and for a second, he wondered whether this was due to his age or lack of training or whether Tobirama had become faster again.

Tobirama threw himself into an attack with all his strength and Madara decided to change tactics. Instead of dodging the blow swiftly, he spread his legs to a safe stance and crossed his arms. Tobirama's full body weight and chakra-enhanced muscle power made the kick that hit Madara an overwhelming experience. It felt as if his bones were vibrating and perhaps, had the attack been a little stronger, it would have even broken through his defenses. But it didn't and Tobirama didn't seem to have expected it. Thrown off balance, the White Demon of Konoha paused a second too long; long enough for Madara to realize that Tobirama had actually shifted his weight a little too much onto his back leg. In a single motion, Madara swept him off his feet again, only this time to let his fist crash into Tobirama's chin.

The blow, which would have felled most other men like a tree, sent Tobirama reeling. Visibly dizzy, he landed on his butt and rubbed his chin with a pissed-off snarl.

Madara took a minute to savor his triumph (and to regain his breath, but nobody needed to know that), before he reached out his hand to help Tobirama up. It was a reflexive gesture, something he would always do for Hashirama, but he had never done for Tobirama before. The moment he extended the helping hand Madara almost regretted it; he expected Tobirama to decline the gesture and that would be a humiliation of a kind Madara’s pride still could not deal with. Especially not in front of audience, even if they were children. To his surprise Tobirama took his hand and came up to his feet; Madara felt a crooked grin spread on his face. Maybe it was not only him who had changed his attitude over the course of the last few years. Tobirama seemed to be far less of an asshole than before.

“You became slow, Uchiha.”, Tobirama muttered and instead of feeling offended, Madara just grinned more.

“And still I got you, Senju.”, he chuckled and then sighed, “But you are right. All that paperwork and sitting around in meetings takes its toll. Maybe we should schedule more training time.”

He probably really should. While it was his duty as leader of a village to stay sharp and able to protect them all if needed, he gained personal pride in being unbeatable. Or at least to be so powerful that only a few even tried to beat him. And still, he knew he wouldn’t. Between the office duties, being drawn to his family and spending time with them, and the very prominent urge to teach his own children at least a few things he had learned by his ancestors, there was just barely time to keep himself in shape. He was so thankful for Mito and Hikaku that they took over the businesses of the Clan and only needed him for the most important rituals the Clan Head just HAD to attend. There were already so many things suffering because of his lack of time, he wouldn’t want to have his Clan suffering. He even had thought about inaugurating Hikaku as Clan Head two years ago, but Hikaku had reacted very offended to the suggestion. He would lead the Clan as substitute Clan Head together with Mito until Madara's daughter was old enough to take her rightful place. But nothing else.

The extinction of Madara's line was something that Hikaku had always feared, and in a moment of trust, his younger cousin had confessed to him that he had had some really disturbing foreshadowing feelings about a world where his own line was ever forced to lead. In short, it would end very badly for the Clan. Madara accepted this reasoning; it was well known that some Uchiha tended to have premonitions that actually came true. Not a reliable thing and not something that could be induced consciously, but when it happened, it was to be respected. Hikaku was known for sometimes having what could be actual premonitions, and even though they were never detailed enough to actually act on them, there were some bits that pointed to that. So, if Hikaku feared for the Clan, when his line took over, Madara would accept that and continue to be Clan Head until Nojiriko was old enough.

“And furthermore,” Hikaku had added with a conspiratory smirk, “there is still Izuna-san.”

Madara had just stupidly grinned about that, because they both were very aware that Izuna would never lead the Uchiha. Izuna was now Senju; not by blood but by choice. And Madara was fine with it. Izuna was happy, and that was what mattered for him.

He actually found it quite funny, as an irony of fate. He was quite sure that Izuna had taken on most of the duties of a Clan Head's wife for the Senju Clan; just as Mito, his wife, had done for the Uchiha. He didn’t know any details, as Izuna was really discreet about it and never talked about it with Madara, but there were enough hints. And Madara honestly admired that discretion about his little brother: brat and chatterbox aside (and Izuna was both) he was very skilled in being loyal to both Clans - the one of his birth and the one of his choice - and never even hinted a secret from the one to the other.

Well, other than being a living person with habits and loved traditions. Madara was well aware that Hashirama had to know a few not-so-public things about the Uchiha and their customs by simply living together with Izuna and watching him. He had expected so much from the day on he had watched Izuna falling for the jug-eared jerk, so that was not really a surprise. And didn’t they all know more about the other clans nowadays? They were living in one big village. Learning details about the others daily life was natural.

(Even if Madara could have done without some of the details. Like the fact that the Aburame were actually living insect hotels. He had always thought that the creatures lived in a hidden scroll or seal. But no... they were actually crawling around under the skin and leaving though various orifices. Ick.)

As Madara looked at the village, especially Izuna's role within the Senju clan, he sometimes wondered if Senju Butsuma and Uchiha Tajima had reached the Pure Land and could now mull over the consequences of their sons' decisions. He hoped they could, because for all Madara wished his ancestors a peaceful afterlife or rebirth or whatever it would be in the end, he also wished his father and that pigheaded Senju to suffer from knowing that they had failed their sons really badly by insisting on keeping the war up.

Because Konoha was on her way to become something that was greater than they all were.

Well, he would know that when his time came, but until then he had a village to lead, a Clan to watch prospering, a wife to love and children to raise. Children, who would grow up to be better people than he was.

“I still would be faster.”, Tobirama grunted, “That’s the only skill you and Hashirama never will reach me and I…”

“Papa!”, Nozomi cried cheerfully and Madara was glad for the children coming over from their outlook. “Papa, you won! You’re the best!”

“Of course I am the best! I am Uchiha Madara!”, he grinned and accepted the affection of his daughter with a fond smile, when she threw herself against his leg and hugged it tightly.

“You are bleeding, Papa.”, Akako added quietly, not too worried but with a judging glance to his nose. Madara sniffed and tasted blood. Oh, yes, nosebleed. The punch Tobirama had landed in his face. He hadn’t even noticed it, but now he did and he also felt the throbbing of his cheek and other parts Tobirama had maltreated.

Madara was not easy to impress when it came to pain but of course he also didn’t enjoy it. Most of the time. The thought crossed his mind that Hashirama would already be all over him with his damn healing chakra. Although Hashirama never had any qualms about breaking a few bones or stabbing new holes where they didn't belong, he never seemed to be able to bear seeing even the slightest scratch on Madara after they had finished their fight. When Konoha was founded and they started training instead of real battles, Madara had tried to refuse Hashirama's healing out of pride, but Hashirama had been so unbearable that Madara's need to silence this endless whining was greater than his pride. And honestly, it was quite pleasant to have a broken bone healed within hours instead of months.

Well, there was no need for that now. He didn’t need Hashirama to force healing on him just because of a little nose-bleeding and a few bruises and a maybe-cracked rip.

“I could help with some of the damage you two have dealt.”, the very composed voice of Senju Hanako spoke up. She walked alongside Nojiriko, followed by an unknown boy with a cross-shaped scar on his chin. Ah, so that must be the cowardly ex-bully. Danzō, that was his name. The boy nervously eyed Madara like a shying horse.

“You can?”, Madara asked the little girl suspiciously. He knew Hanako quite well, given the fact that she was best friends with his oldest daughter, but he hadn’t known that she had any natural healing chakra like her uncle’s.

“Hanapi-chan is learning at the hospital! She’s really great at it!”, Nojiriko took a broad stance and crossed pompously her arms, radiating pride about her friend’s skills. The hoard of little children who had accompanied the twins looked up at the two older girls in awe. It was cute how much of a difference one or two years at their age could make. While the twins and their friends were all chubby baby-faces and big eyes, Nojiriko and Hanako tried to act all grown up and their face already had become a little less round. It was especially impressive to watch Hanako. Although she was almost a year younger than Nojiriko, she was already half a head taller. She had clearly inherited her father's build, a tall and rather lithe girl, while Nojiriko was somewhat stockier.

“Uncle Hashirama suggested it. He assessed my chakra and chakra control as suitable. I am no natural healer like him, though.”, Hanako explained politely and Madara shook his head. It was still creepy how emotionally dead this girl could sound. On the other hand, he had also seen her giggling and squealing under Hashirama's tickling hands, cuddling with Izuna as if he were her everything, and playing innocently with Nojiriko. So she was probably just showing off a little to please her austere father. She also turned now to Tobirama and bowed slightly. “If you’d like me to, Otoo-san, I could take care of that.”

Madara saw the pride flash in Tobirama's eyes and how he pursed his lips, clearly about to reject his daughter's offer. Damn Tobirama and his lack of paternal instincts. “What a wonderful idea! I bet he wants to assess your skills for himself.”, Madara interjected and suppressed a grin. Eat that, Senju! Just like Izuna or Mito would have said it! That were diplomatic skills!

(After ten years of intensive training under his suddenly overly sociable little brother and his talented wife, Madara found his own diplomatic skills quite impressive. “Your manners have improved from a blunt axe on a rampage to a reasonably useful kitchen knife,” Mito had once confirmed good-naturedly. “But you still have a long way to go before you become a good sword. Or a scalpel. Oh, no. Forget it. You'll never be a diplomatic scalpel, big brother,” Izuna had added with a snort, laughing with Mito like the two brats they were.)

Neither Hanako nor Tobirama seemed to buy his nice excuse but finally Tobirama sighed and squatted. The little girl concentrated visibly and her usually already narrow eyes became small slits. Bluish healing-chakra seeped form her hand into Tobirama chin. After a while, Tobirama grunted something that should probably be a sign of gratitude and rose again. To humor the girl, Madara also crouched down and beckoned her over. It was no longer a matter of pride, but rather an educational and supportive gesture. How could young children train their skills and develop self-confidence if their closest relatives did not allow them to gain experience?

And well, for an eight-year-old who had probably only started her medical training a few months ago, she was doing surprisingly well. Her chakra didn't feel warm and naturally soothing like Hashirama's, but cool and tingling. She had definitely inherited her father's icy chakra. For a healer, that wasn't the worst thing, as the cooling effect enhanced the relaxing effect. Madara at least felt his nose stop bleeding and his cheek stop throbbing.

“Thank you, Hanako-chan,” he said as the girl stepped back, and was surprised when Nojiriko almost threw herself at her friend and hugged her tightly. Hanako swayed a little but remained standing and freed herself from the embrace with a light pat on Nojiriko's hand. Ah. Not so much chakra in such a tiny body.

“You both have bruised rips and one of the bones in your hand is broken, Otoo-san. Unfortunately, I neither possess the chakra resources nor the skills to heal something like that. I recommend visiting the hospital for further care.”, the pipsqueak suggested in that no-detours-voice grown up healer typically spoke in. Madara felt the hair in his neck rise.

There were interesting times coming towards them.

“Ah, that’s fine.”, Madara just muttered and led some of his chakra into his back’s muscles to keep himself more upright without stressing the rib, “There are ways to deal with something like this if needed. So… we have still a little time. Who of you ankle-biters is up for a match against Tobirama and me?”

The audience burst out in excitement and Madara found himself surrounded by grabbing little hands and blabbering mouths promising that they would give their best. Even Hanako, besides of being low on chakra, seemed to be really interested. Her eyes were glued to her father and Madara’s heart bled for her, recognizing the deeply ingrained need to impress a father who was not easy to impress. Or at least didn’t show it easily.

He was about to suggest that they should change the plan so Hanako could fight alongside her father, when he noticed the Danzō-boy reluctantly drawing back and almost hiding behind Nojiriko.

“You don’t want to train, Danzō-kun?”, Madara asked and rose an eyebrow when the boy flinched as if he had been beaten severely.

“Ah…. I…”

“Of course he wants to train, too!”, Nojiriko said and scrunched her nose. Danzō turned pale and Madara shook his head.

“Let him speak for himself, Nojiriko-chan.”

Nojiriko blushed but looked expectantly to Danzō, who made a further step back and bowed deeply. “I… I don’t want to step up against any of the Hokage, Tsuki no Hokage-sama. I am not worth your while.”

“It’s not a battle about The Hat, it’s a training.”, Madara grinned, because the boy looked as if he was already plotting Madara’s defeat behind that submissive demeanor. That thought amused him. He wasn't usually one for fawning obsequiousness, but this boy's behavior was so obviously slippery and all Shimura that Madara didn't even have to ask which clan he belonged to. It was truly absurd. And honestly... did this boy really believe that any of these children were a match for him? He would gain nothing personally from sparring with them, except for happy children and future Konoha ninja who would hopefully one day proudly remember how the old “ Ghost of Uchiha” had taught them a lesson or two.

Didn’t those Shimura train with their children?

“Nevertheless,” insisted the boy, scraping his foot, and Madara had to admit that despite his submissiveness, the boy was quite courageous. Normally, it took a lot to contradict one Uchiha Madara. “I... you are too strong. I am...”

“… a weak coward?”, Tobirama barked and Madara rolled his eyes inwardly. Here we go, the emphatical sledgehammer of the Senju at his best. The gangly boy flinched hard, like beaten with a whip, and his face blushed so severely that the scar on his chin stood out almost white. Some of the other children snickered mockingly, but Madara gave them a disapproving look.

“Yes, he is afraid. And he is right with acting careful when he is afraid.”, Madara stated with emphasis and even the twins made round eyes. Tobirama looked at him as if he had hit his head and turned into a babbling idiot. Madara shot back a sour look. “Fear is just as an important tool as any other sense. Fear tells you that something is off. It warns you and stops you from being reckless. So, are you afraid of me and Tobirama, Danzō-kun?”

“… yes. Yes, Hokage-sama.”, the boy mumbled and turned his eyes to the ground, embarrassed and visibly expecting to be humiliated.

“Why?”

“Why?” The boy’s face snapped up and now he eyed Madara as if he was a blabbering madman. Madara gave him an encouraging nod and the boy pulled his bony shoulders up to his ears. “You are the Hokage. The strongest man in our village!”

“Ah, so you are afraid to fight someone much stronger than you?”

“… yes. Yes, Hokage-sama.”

“As it should be,” said Madara, and in the next moment he attacked the boy. The boy reacted out of instinct, like a trained shinobi should, and blocked the blow as good as he could and rolled aside. Madara, who naturally hadn’t put all his strength into the punch, followed and threatened the boy again with a punch and then with a kick. The boy blocked and evaded again, until Madara had chased him halfway over the clearing. Suddenly the frightened face of the boy turned into something desperate and determined and he rose his arm to fight  back. Madara snatched the little wrist easily and swirled Danzō’s skinny back against his chest, holding him in a headlock. The boy was heaving while  Madara held him for a second, until he released him and put his big hand in a comforting gesture onto the boy’s head. The boy nearly dropped and Madara chuckled. “Well done, Danzō-kun.”

He turned to the gaping bunch of children.

“So you see, Danzō-kun was aware that I am a very strong opponent and fighting me would be an impossible task for him. His fear told him to evade an impossible, deadly fight. But when I attacked him, he fought back. And that is how I want all of you to fight. Never be a coward and run away from duty, but don’t fight needlessly just because of pride. Choose wisely which battles you can take and which not. Protect yourself and never run when a comrades need you, but don’t engage in needless one-on-one fights that you can’t win. Sometimes a well-set trap or a cunning plan is much more sufficient to finish a mission than a blunt fight. Know your limits and your options, then you’ll live and become a respected ninja of Konoha.”

Would his father strangle him for those words? Yes.

Did Tobirama look at him as if he was crazy? Yes.

Was Madara absolutely convinced of what he had said? Yes.

Ninja were more than warriors on a battlefield. Their very own ORIGINS lay elsewhere. They were sneaky assassins, using stealth to gather information, better unseen in the shadows than glorified in bloody wars. They were clever and creative and each and everyone came with their own set of skills and jutsu.

He knew that Hashirama agreed on that with him. Konoha had shown them that not only brute force was required to be a successful Hidden Village that could muster all kind of missions. There also had to be the clever Nara with their Shadow Jutsu, the empathic Yamanaka with their mind-turning tricks, the Hatake with their speed and intuition, the Aburame with their deadly insects, and so many more.

Madara wanted the future ninja of Konoha to use all of their variety, not bulky bullies who died just because they were too proud to evade a too strong opponent. And he didn’t want to have children turning into scheming cowards, because nobody told them that it was okay to be afraid, that they were okay just as they were, as long as it didn’t stop them from doing the right things.

Nojiriko seemed to understand, because she broadly grinned at as if he had hung the moon and the stars.

“Yet.”, Madara added and looked down to Danzō who stared with open mouth and red cheeks, “If your Hokage offers you to train with him, you don’t say “no” because you think you are weak. You take the chance to learn and become stronger. Or do you think I am not able to constrain myself enough so I won’t hurt those I teach, Danzō-kun?”

Danzō carefully shook his head and when Nojiriko came over and clapped his back, he slightly grinned at Madara. He looked like someone who had just an eye-opening revelation.

Madara gave him a pleased nod and turned to Tobirama and the rest of the children to set up the teams for their little training.

Maybe they could turn at least one Shimura into a proper Shinobi.

Chapter Text

“Stop fidgeting, Kagami-kun!”, Tobirama growled and steadied the lively boy on his back. Kagami was actually already too big to be carried around, a lanky and long-limbed teenager and with his thirteen years close to be an adult shinobi at current Konoha standards. And yet, it had tradition between them. It had started eight years ago, after Kagami had nearly fried himself by imitating one of Tobirama’s raiton jutsu. Tobirama was not sure until today how he had earned the trust and unwavering loyalty of this little Uchiha boy. He had never been a friend of children and especially not of Uchiha. And suddenly Konoha was there and Kagami, clingy cute little Kagami, popped into existence and followed him around since then, constantly blabbering and asking and admiring. First he was only accompanied by the little Sarutobi, later also tailed by Utatane Koharu. And then Izuna-fucking-Uchiha had somehow convinced Hashirama that it was a brilliant idea to haunt Tobirama with his own Genin Team. Of course to prove the success of the Ninja Academy he had founded. At least Hashirama had said that. The truth was a cheeky grinning Uchiha behind Hashirama who thought it funny to separate Tobirama from his beloved paperwork and experiments and keep him busy with a cuddly, non-stop talking Uchiha and his little friends.

Well. Tobirama enjoyed having a team quite a lot. But he would rather die than confess that to the ponytailed marten.

“I am so excited to see everyone again! It had been so long!”, Kagami chirped and made such a sudden move that he nearly slipped from Tobirama’s grip.

“Keep still our I drag you over the shoulder like the sack full of vermin you are!”

Kagami laughed delighted and hurried to wrap his arms back around Tobirama’s neck. The boy reeked of ashes and teenage-boy and Tobirama scrunched his sensible nose.

“Do you think Izuna-nii will be proud of me? I am one year older than him when he awakened his Sharingan! He got it against you, that must have been so cool!”, Kagami sighed and Saru snorted behind them.

“Only you'd find it ‘cool’ to be nearly killed, Bakagami!”

“Ahh, nearly dying isn’t cool. But the Sharingan is cool! And Sensei and Nii-san are cool!”, Kagami laughed and nuzzled his nose against the fur around Tobirama’s shoulders. He made a silent sigh and honestly, Tobirama was surprised that Kagami was still so lively. Their mission had been expected to be an easy one in comparison what Tobirama did when he was on his own or with a team of adults. However, not only had they ended far away from Konoha, but they had also had to deal with more dangers and enemies than they had expected. Alsmost too many to handle for them. Because yes, the three children were really talented and well educated, yet they were still children! They had nearly lost Koharu while she had been protecting a genjutsu-caught Saru if it had not been for Kagami who had thrown himself in the line of a deadly attack.

Kagami not only had survived the attack. When the dust had settled, Kagami stood on shaky legs, blood dripping like water from his nose and ears and his right arm hanging uselessly down his side, but his eyes were burning red.

He had indeed been the startling image of a certain twelve-year-old boy Tobirama had seen in a similar situation. Only back then he had been the one who tried to kill the little Uchiha. This time he had raised heavens and hell to reach the little Uchiha in time to save his life.

They had done it, only that Kagami was now quite chakra depleted and missed probably half of his blood. But he lived and he was really proud about his awakened kekkei genkai. Tobirama silently wondered if the Uchiha would allow him to keep Kagami under his tutelage. It would make sense to send him out with an experienced Uchiha for a while, just to give him the opportunity to learn about his new eyes under a sufficient teacher.

Maybe he could announce the scraggy marten to an interims-teacher for his team. Only for a few missions until Kagami had a little real-life experience. This would also have the nice little side effect that Tobirama would not only be rid of Hashirama's annoying lover for a while, but he could also spend a little more time on his experiments. Hashirama had spoken out against using his new Edo Tensei Jutsu, but that didn't mean that Tobirama couldn't finish it anyway. And maybe Hashirama would see the use of it when time came. The marten had seen the use after dragging the information out of him and showed himself properly impressed.

It was almost pathetic how pleased Tobirama had been about Izuna's reaction to his new jutsu.

“Wooah, that looks really bad.”, Koharu whispered shakingly and Tobirama was about to ask what exactly she meant, when he saw it. They passed through a clearing that hadn’t been there when they started to their mission. It looked like something had exploded and when Tobirama stretched out his senses he could feel an oddly animalistic chakra linger in the remnants of trees and bushes. Even the earth was soaked with the foreign chakra.

He shuddered and sped up his steps. Saru and Koharu followed and Tobirama felt Kagami’s finger tense in his shoulders.

They followed the path of destruction into a barely rebuilt part of Konoha's outer walls, and Tobirama felt his heartbeat faster in foreboding. If the palisades were down so badly it could only mean that Konoha got it bad. The palisades were Hashirama’s personal baby, he nurtured and cared for them like they were alive. Well. They were kind of alive, at least that was the only way to explain how they worked together with the barrier seals Mito and the other fūin experts had designed to protect Konoha from unwanted visitors.

If there was a big hole like that it could only mean….

Tobirama barely could contain himself. He didn’t want to frighten his students, but he felt a certain panic rise in himself.

“I’ll take Kagami and bring him home.”, Saru suddenly piped up, his still boyish voice tense and uptight, and closed his distance to Tobirama. Tobirama eyed the barely rebuilt houses and the destroyed trees around them and gave the boy a nod. Saru was a really perceptive boy.

“There’s no need for that. Just let me down, Sensei! I can do it.”, Kagami whispered throatily, “You should go home, Sensei. Fast.” Kagami wiggled his way off Tobirama’s back. He stood well enough for Tobirama to let him go. Tobirama felt a lump form in his throat. He had not yet dared to scan Konoha for Hashirama’s chakra. But Kagami was also a natural sensor, not as wide ranged and sensible as himself, but well enough. If Kagami told him to go home fast, it meant…

Tobirama stopped that train of thoughts and gave the children a stern look. “No detours. No matter what you see or hear. Go straight back home to your families.”

“Hai, Sensei!”

Tobirama would have been quite proud of his team for how quickly and effortlessly they disappeared, had he not already had his head elsewhere. He scanned his surroundings very carefully, but there was not the slightest sign of Hashirama's presence. And Hashirama almost never bothered to fully tame his overflowing chakra inside the village. But now there was not even a hint of the usual growing and flowing between water and earth that made his brother’s chakra so unique.

That could only mean two things: Either Hashirama was not here or he had a damned good reason to hide his chakra completely. And given the fact that not even twice in his life had Hashirama managed to suppress his chakra so thoroughly that Tobirama could not sense him while they had been inside a similar radius…. So Hashirama was gone. Where?

The village was destroyed, but not on alert. There were the usual guards, but they had not reacted to Tobirama’s team. Madara’s chakra was residing in the Uchiha compound. It was too mingled with the chakra signatures of his family to say more, but he seemed to be quite calm. Yet, there was also something odd, similar to the aggressive chakra that soaked the area in the forest.

Tobirama considered for a moment to pay Madara a visit, but he decided against it. If there was anybody that could even remotely threaten Madara within the heart of his Clan, the village would be in uproar. It wasn’t. It was  a crisp, early morning, there were only a few people around. A few construction worker, some early merchants, the lady from the Akimichi bakery close to the Hokage Tower.

It was a normal morning, only that there were damages to the village and Hashirama’s protective chakra was missing.

Tobirama reached his brother’s house fast enough. Another scan of the area told him that inside of the house were two chakra sources. One hot and blazing, the other flowing and cool. Fire and water. But both were calm, subdued. Sleeping, probably.

So, Tobirama entered quietly his brother’s house. That was no problem, as Hashirama had kept him keyed into the barriers that protected his home; him and what felt like half the Uchiha Clan. Still, being keyed into barriers was not everything. He still needed to be careful when he stepped into another shinobi’s home unannounced. He didn’t want to have an alert Izuna on his throat.

Well, since Hanako was in the house, there was at least no risk of causes for sudden blindness, as it was usually the case. Once, and only once, Tobirama had made the big mistake of visiting his brother's house without first checking the chakra signatures. And without knocking. He had regretted it very much.

If he ever had to see Izuna's bare butt or ANY naked part of his brother's body ever again, he would voluntarily gouge out his eyes and undergo a brainwashing jutsu.

He found Izuna and Hanako in the little sleeping room the two men kept for his daughter. At first, he had wondered why they would do something like that. If Hanako visited them and slept over, she could probably just sleep on a spare futon and didn’t need that horrible vision in pastel. But over the course of some years he had realized that his daughter spent more nights in her uncle’s house than in his own. Mostly, because Hashirama insisted that it wasn’t good for a little child to be alone all the time. Especially not at night.

Tobirama wasn’t really sure if that was just Hashirama or common knowledge, but it was still somehow relieving to know that the little girl had a place to be, where people lived who were better suited to care for her than he was.

It also was relieving to know that she had a second home, just in case he didn’t make it back from a mission.

Sometimes he thought that he should bite the bullet and ask Hashirama if he wanted to adopt the girl as his. It wasn’t that uncommon anyways. Hashirama was a Clan Head who would never have biological children (Unless the marten was secretly a girl after all, what would explain a lot.), and in such cases it was actually tradition to adopt the firstborn child of the next oldest sibling and raise them as an heir.

Maybe it would do her better than a father who was barely there, because his head was most of the time stuck between logic and creativity. The Sage may help him! His first instinct was anyways to send her to Hashirama if she came with any emotional problem to him!

And well. It wasn’t, as if she wasn’t loved in this house completely and wholly. He could see it right now.

Izuna lay on the child-sized futon between stuffed animals and a ridiculous amount of colorful cushions, little Hanako in his arms like she belonged there. Both were sound asleep, while the early morning sun painted golden stripes into the room. The flower-patterned blanked was neatly wrapped around Hanako, who had a soft smile on her rosy lips.

It was a peaceful scene, and Tobirama wondered for a moment if Izuna often slept next to his daughter. He knew that she was sometimes afraid in the dark, even if she tried not to show it when he was around. So, sleeping next to her seemed just like something Izuna or Hashirama would do. Only that neither of them looked really good. Hanako’s eyes seemed a little bit swollen, as if she had cried in her sleep. And Izuna… well, the marten had always been meager, but now his face was literally haggard and his body almost drowned in the oversized sleepwear.

Maybe he should let them sleep and get himself clean. He could return with some breakfast and find out where Hashirama had gone. He had a theory by now anyways. Konoha had been attacked (by whom stayed open) and Hashirama went after the attackers or to the capital to report a major incident to the Daimyō.

That were the most plausible options, even if something in Tobirama’s guts told him, that this explanation was too easy.

Before he could close the door behind him, Hanako stirred in her sleep and blinked confusedly at him.

“Otoo-san?”, she said quietly and now Tobirama was sure that she had cried. He might be a bad father and not overly emphatic, but he knew what his daughter usually looked like. Not like that, with reddish eye-apples and swollen lids, and a sad twitch in the corner of her mouth.

“Yes. I am back. You can sleep a little longer, if you want to, though. It’s early.”

The girl frowned, white eyebrows meeting right above her pointy nose. A nose that Hashirama vigorously claimed she had inherited from him. Tobirama was quite sure that he never had had a pointy nose.

“No. Please wait a moment, Otoo-san.”, she said finally and wiggled her way out of Izuna’s arms. Izuna didn’t stir and that was taletelling enough. Additional to the fact his leg was splinted, from hip to heel.

The uneasy sting in his guts grew stronger.

Another uneasiness added, when his little six-almost-seven-year-old daughter walked in front of him into her uncle’s kitchen and started to make some tea. It probably should be the other way around, but Tobirama couldn’t bring his brain to concentrate on that. Instead he stretched himself for the glasses of pickles Hashirama still stored on the highest shelf, as if they weren’t heavy as hell. He helped himself and Hanako in an odd silence to a breakfast.

“What happened?”

Tea steaming in front of them, she only shoved her pickles around and finally shrugged. “Twelve days ago, at approximately eight hundred, Konoha was attacked by forces from Iwagakure, along with a chakric beast identified as the Bijū Kyūbi. The assault resulted in significant damage, with several buildings destroyed and a large portion of our southern defense structures compromised. We experienced very few civilian casualties despite the destruction of property. However, our military forces suffered numerous losses during the attack. Hokage Uchiha Madara was able to defeat the Kyuubi and successfully seal it within Uzumaki Mito. The remaining military forces rallied under the clan leaders, with Uchiha Izuna taking command as the overall leader, and together they managed to repel the enemy.”

The girl looked at him expectantly, while Tobirama stared down on her as if he had seen a ghost. First, because he hadn’t known that this fragile little girl was capable of a military report in such a manner (Wasn’t  she just a first year at the academy?). Second, because it made no sense.

“There was an attack from Iwa. And… a Kyūbi.”

“Yes, Otoo-san. Do you need more details? I guess you could get more from Madara-san. They didn’t tell us children very much. Pre-Genin don’t have the required security level.”

Tobirama blinked a few times, feeling a little bit dumb.

“I… don’t need a report… I guess. I…”, he started slowly, mind busy with examining why exactly it felt wrong to get a report from his daughter, when the village had been attacked and a legendary beast had appeared. Shouldn’t he be… content? Well… he was quite proud of her capability to do so, but he had a feeling that this also wasn’t supposed to be so. Oh, of course, he had reported to Butsuma the same way, but Hashirama’s constant lectures about child-friendliness and child-appropriate behavior had implied something else. So… what… would Hashirama do? “Ehm…. Were… you scared?”

The immediate frown following his question was irritating. Had that been the wrong question?

“I… I guess I was?”, she said cautiously and tilted her head like a listening dog, “Are… are you mad because I was?”

“I… no! Of course not! Everybody would be scared from a… Kyūbi.”

“I didn’t see it anyways. We followed security protocol zero: Evacuation and protection.”

“Ah… that’s…. of course.”, Tobirama scoffed, “So… That Kyūbi is sealed away?”

“Yes. Noji-chan said, her mother…”, she stopped insecurely and searched for his eyes. “I…”

“You don’t need to report to me. I am not your superior right now. Just… tell me like you would tell your uncle, okay?”

THAT had definitely been the wrong thing to say. Because suddenly there was the most frightening thing on earth: Little girl’s tears, pearling down a white cheek.

“Ah… why are you… what….?”, Tobirama stuttered a little bit helplessly, panic mode kicking in. Crying little girls were a worst-case situation! Where was Hashirama if someone needed him?

“…. Oh, Indra’s… you-know-what. You are hopeless!”

That was Izuna’s raspy voice and indeed, the man stood in the half open door, a tired, but nonetheless judging face. He waved into Hanako’s direction.

“Stand up, go over, hug her.”

Okay. He could do that probably? Well, he could. Because when he did, it suddenly was easier, because Hanako slipped very willingly into his lap and hugged him back as if her life depended on him. She still sniffled, but there was not the ear-piercing wailing he had expected. Izuna rolled his eyes and hobbled over to help himself to a cup of tea. He didn’t sit down for obvious reasons; Tobirama had no idea how he had managed to stand up with that splint anyways.

“Now, that is what you do if your worried child cries in front of you. Remember that lection, Baka-Lizard.”, muttered the marten, but there was none of his usual glee or mischief in his voice.

“What happened?”

“An attack.”

“To Hashirama! What happened to Hashirama? What happened to you? You look…”

“Ah… early-morning compliments. I love those! How do I look, Lizard-chan?”, Izuna almost hissed, but that also missed his usual fire. It was as if he was talking to an Izuna-shaped marionette.

“What happened to my brother? Why does my daughter cry spontaneously when I mention her uncle?”

“Oji-san is hurt. Badly.”, Hanako whispered against his shoulder and a tiny little sob accompanied her words. It felt natural to caress her back; had she always been so tiny and frail?

Judging by Izuna’s face the caressing was the right thing to do, because every poison left the pale face and he sighed.

“Hashirama was attacked by the Kyūbi. And yes, the actual Kyūbi, the one from the legends. No genjutsu. The fucking real thing. It was… a mean attack. He nearly didn’t make it.”

The uneasiness in Tobirama’s guts became a major ulcer.

“WHAT?”

“He’s… going to be okay. He’s healing. Yesterday he woke for the first time from something the medics called a stasis – not quite a coma. His body is repairing itself. Obviously…”

And now there was that fucking water even in Izuna’s eyes and Tobirama didn’t even know where to LOOK! He chose Hanako’s white shag of hair, still tousled from sleeping. Yes. Definitively the saver view.

“Obviously he is able to survive as long as his brain and his heart are not destroyed. Because those were the only organs that weren’t destroyed.”

Had Izuna’s voice to sound so broken? Not that Tobirama could hold it against him. That was tough stuff. But... did it have to be right in front of him? He could handle it better if Izuna yelled at him or maybe attacked him a little!

“So… he lives.”

“Yes, Tobirama. Yes. He lives. And the medics think he could become just like he had been before. Maybe he’ll have his first forever-scars, but he’ll be okay. He even talked yesterday. He said… he said “Hi, Pretty!””

And then Izuna, his former enemy and greatest rival on earth, the man he had once loved and once killed and who was now his little brother-in-law, cried.

And somehow it seemed just logical to stand up and hug him also.

Chapter Text

“We need to do something.”, Kagami said seriously and nibbled on the last of his dango.

They sat on the porch behind Kagami’s home and watched Kagami’s younger brother Kagetora doing his exercises. Kagami’s little brother was not especially talented as a shinobi, at least that was what Hiruzen thought. He had been able to do more when he had been six. But on the other hand Kagetora had more time for playing than Hiruzen had had at his age. Some part of Hiruzen was jealous of the little boy. And yet, sometimes he was even jealous of Kagami. Except of maybe Kagane, Kagami’s extended family was made of capable, deathly ninja, none of them hesitant of fighting, all of them grim warriors so merciless against enemies that even his father spoke openly admiring about them. And still, from the day he had set a foot into Konoha and Kagami had proclaimed to be friends with him, he had learned a lot about those gruesome warriors, whose names had formally been used to frighten him and his older siblings into behaving. They were affectionate and kind as soon as they entered their home, not only among their own kind but also with those they considered close friends. He had witnessed how often Hikaku cuddled Kagami, even if Kagami was almost fourteen now. In the past he had seen Kagami even crawl all over Uchiha Izuna as if he was a cushion and the man had liked it, had even cuddled Kagami back as if they were more than distant cousins. More as if they were brothers. Nobody had ever treated him like the adult Uchiha treated Kagami. Like Kagami was important to them whatever he did and not just another child to raise into a weapon. They even loved Kagane and Kagane had, despite having strong chakra, no traits of a kunoichi. She currently trained to enroll as a teacher at the Academy.

Sometimes all that loving and cuddling and caring irritated Hiruzen, because well… he knew his father loved him and did a lot to make sure that he was not only ready to face his future as a shinobi but was also also able to use his potential at its fullest. But he could not remember when his father had hugged him the last time. His father wasn’t a bad man, but he expected from Hiruzen to stand on his own feet from a very early age on, like it was Sarutobi tradition.

So, the Uchiha were weird with their affection towards each other, but also quite alluring. Even their sensei, the strongest, coolest, best shinobi Hiruzen had ever seen in his whole life, had a soft spot for some of the Uchiha. At least Kagami and Izuna.

Tobirama was more like Hiruzen expected a proper shinobi to be. He rarely showed lesser emotions. He was stern, logical and cool. Not unkind, but distant. Expect when Bakagami pulled one of his stupid self-destructive hero-stunts, like saving Hiruzen’s life by risking his own. Sensei had been so mad with Bakagami and then he had ruffled his hair and told him, he was a good boy. Or when Izuna was around… well, Hiruzen was not very sure what Tobirama was doing then, expect growling and snarling and haggling with the Uchiha until Izuna broke out in laughing and dragged Tobirama to something he wanted him to try out because ‘Lizard-chan’ ‘had to live for once’.

Hiruzen had nearly spit out his lunch when he had heard the Uchiha heir calling his much-respected Sensei ‘Lizard-chan’ the first time. He had expected Tobirama to explode, but he had just grunted and told the ‘marten’ to ‘fuck off’ in a somehow endearing manner, scandalizing Hiruzen by using such a low language.

Well, Izuna had this special…. very, very special… friendship with Tobirama’s older brother. So, that was probably the cause of this weird relationship.

“Reality to Saru, reality to Saru! You’re with us?”, Bakagami sung and tried to stick his wet finger into Hiruzen’s ear. Hiruzen squeaked and punched Kagami in the face. Kagami dropped with a low ‘umph’ on his back. “Aaah, Saru! How mean!”, he whined and rubbed his cheek that certainly would turn black and blue soon. Kagami was like a white canvas to color by beating.

“You earned that, asshole.”, Hiruzen snarled, but Kagami already laughed again.

“Maybe. So… what do you say?”

“To what?”

“That we should do something about Izuna-nii. He is probably really, really sad because of Hashirama-nii.”

“Stop calling the Hokage that.”

“He said I should. He said, you could, too.”

“It isn’t respectful!”

“Yeah, yeah.”, Kagami rolled his eyes and sat up. “Still, we need to do something about Izuna-nii. He IS sad and nobody should be sad alone.”

“Most people prefer to be alone if they are sad.”

Kagami looked at him so questioning, that Hiruzen felt the urge to defend himself. “At least that is how most of the people in my Clan are! My father certainly didn’t want me around when his oldest son died last year.”

“Maybe. But Izuna-nii is different.”, Kagami insisted and turned to the opening door behind them. Tōka, Kagami’s stepmother, carried the newest addition to their family in front of her chest and made a soft face. Something Hiruzen found utterly disturbing. The woman was big and strong and a real hands-on kunoichi who could wield a battle axe just as well as a giant cleaving sword or a double handed longsword. She was most of the time gruff and bossy and Hiruzen remembered very well the training-sessions she had given to him and Kagami, so they won’t stay ‘milk-toothed whims’ as she had worded it. Hiruzen had felt afterwards as if he needed a new body, because every bone hurt. And still, she caressed the head of the baby in front of her chest with a soft smile and careful fingers. It wasn’t even hers!

That was another thing that Hiruzen irritated as hell. There were no real orphans among the Uchiha. He knew that most clans gave parentless children to their closest relatives, but there were always a few that did not even have an aunt or an uncle close enough to accept the liabilities of raising a child. His father declared once that having children was as much of a luxury as a liability. You needed to be able to feed and educate them and that was sometimes not provided easily. Most clans had the one or the other bad year behind them and harsh winters asked a lot of them; especially of the Sarutobi, whose homeland had been in a rather cool, mountainous area with a lot of hot springs, but also a lot of snow and little to eat as soon as winter came. So, orphans were often left on their own, because people could barely feed their own children. But if one of those orphans made it to adulthood and prove to be a capable shinobi regardless their upbringing, they were quite popular. The Sarutobi adored people who could care for themselves.

Well, they were living in Konoha now, under better conditions where their Clan could afford a little more luxury now. So his father had changed some of those traditions and granted every parentless child of his Clan a roof over their head and little money for their daily needs. But they were still left to fight for their own. His father, an orphan himself with eight (though a wealthy one, because he had been the son of the former Clan Head), swore that the time he had to fight for his own, had made him stronger and more composed. It had enabled him to be one of the greatest and strongest shinobi the Sarutobi Clan had ever had.

The Uchiha had no orphans. Children were taken in by relatives, regardless how distant their relationship may be. And if there was no relative who could feed the additional mouth, the child was given to a wealthier family. If everything went downside, the Clan Head himself would take the child in and grant him or her a future. Hiruzen had been quite baffled when Kagami had explained him that about his adopted little brother in an absolute casual way. Tiny Hiroku was now part of Hikaku’s family just as Kagane, Kagami or Kagetora.

“Hey, mom!”, Kagami grinned, “Does the little shit behave?”

“Better than you, fuzzy head.”, she grunted with a dirty look that made Hiruzen shiver and Kagami giggle. He’d never feel well around that creepy woman!

“Oi, mom! Stop being grumpy! I came back in one piece, just like you ordered me to do. Well. Mostly.”, Kagami boasted cheekily and rose his bandaged arm. He would regain the strength in this arm soon, they had said at the hospital, and Hiruzen was glad. He wouldn't have known how to deal with it if Bakagami, of all people, had not only saved him but also lost a limb because of him!

“And you stop calling your baby-brother a shit, that’s not what I call manners.”, she snapped back and nudged her foot against Kagami’s backside. “Stand up, lazybones. Take a shower, you stink. And do something about your room, that one stinks, too. And then go over to Izuna-san and keep him some company.”

“Why doesn’t he come over to Madara-sama’s anyways? Hashirama-nii will be in the hospital for a while.”

“Go ask him that yourself. Probably he is just stubborn.”, Tōka shrugged and shifted the baby from one side to the other. “Maybe you can convince him to take residence at Madara-sama’s. Or you can offer him your room. You don’t sleep in there a lot anyways these days!”

Within a second Kagami turned red and Hiruzen snorted. Kagami thought it to be a big secret that he had caught himself a girlfriend. At first Hiruzen had been a little bit jealous, because Kagami was the first one of them who had found a girlfriend. But then he had seen the girl and known why she entertained herself with a jerk like Bakagami: Because she was one herself. The both of them liked stargazing. What. The. Fuck. And as far as Hiruzen knew Kagami had neither come to a kiss, nor a hug, and especially nothing exciting like real naked boo…

Hiruzen felt a stupid grin on his lips, while Kagami wailed his embarrassed excuses in the back of his consciousness and caught himself. Last time he had thought too much about naked… nakedness that it had had weird consequences and he wasn’t too fond of repeating that experience in front of Kagami and his stepmother.

“Anyways.”, Tōka cut off Bakgami’s wailing, “You go and help him. You can take Saru with you. And Kagetora.”

“Why Kagetora? He is… a baby.”

“Because I say so. And now off or I'll get a barrier seal for the little secret magazine stash under your futon!”

“MOM!”

Chapter Text

“What are you doing?”, Tobirama asked and watched in dismay how the four little kids wrote numbers down on the porch. Directly onto the polished wood. They used chalk, so it was probably okay, but it still seemed ridiculous.

“Counting, Oji-san!”, the louder one of the twins chirped and pointed to a handkerchief. “That was on the table, we said ten points for things on the table.”

“But he saw you taking it and gave it to you. That's a point deduction.”

“Yeah, he gave it to me! While they were at it and I shouldn’t be there. That is nearly as good as a genjutsu!”

“Hmpf.”, Nojiriko hissed and added a number. “Okay, but the shoe doesn’t count. The shoe lay in the hallway and not in the room with them.”

“Ooookay.”, the twin-girl sighed and nudged her copy with her elbow. “Smart move, Aka-chan, to take the glass with the bonbons right from under Mama’s nose. It’s like a double-win.”

"I agree. Twenty points for stealing guarded objects and 5 extra for edible loot.", the oldest sister nodded and wrote another number down. “Tora-Tora, it’s your turn.”

Kagetora, the little half-Senju-half-Uchiha boy, made a lazy face and sighed. “I wanted to take the bonbons.”

“And I want to be Hokage.”, the first twin rolled her eyes and jumped to her feet. Standing on her tiptoes she lensed over the windowsill. “They’re still at it. Just go!”

“Naah, I don’t know what to take.”

“Don’t be a wussy.”

“I am not! But they’re your parents, they can only blame themselves for your behavior. If they catch me, they’ll tattle to mother of father. Father makes me doing the dishes and whatnot for ages if I affront the Clan Head!”

“Geez, Tora-Tora.”, Nojiriko sighed and put down the chalk, “Then I’ll go.” She accompanied her younger sister at the windowsill and turned her head like a bird. “Maybe the comb?”

“To easy, Aneki.”, the twin-girl protested and pointed at something. “Take Mama’s shawl.”

“It’s on her LAP.”

“You are our big sister and the future Clan Head, if you can’t do it, we can kick the bucket just now!”

“Oh, please, Nozomi-chan, stop being dramatic!”

“It IS dramatic! Our big Aneki-zokuchō-sama fails us! The Clan will go down; we’ll all have to live as the beggars of Konoha and freeze to death in winters because Aneki can’t get us a shawl and…”, the girl howled and nearly went down in an impressive cause of desperate fainting.

“Will you stop now? I’ll go get you the stupid shawl.”

Nozomi grinned with her tiny teeth showing while Nojiriko rubbed the prominent eyebags she shared with her father. “Crap. He is standing right in front of her!”

“What are you doing, kids?”, Tobirama asked again and shook his head, “What are these antics?”

“Aaah, nothing special. We’re training.”, Nozomi told him casually and looked back into the room. “Woooah, look at Papa’s head! He is red like a tomato!”

“Really? Uuh!”, Akako lined up at the window and even Kagetora came to his feet. Nojiriko sighed and slipped into the house through the door. Tobirama took a position behind the children to get a glance into the house, too. They had a pretty good view into the living room, where Mito sat at a low table with crossed arms and an angry face. Like a volcano about to burst. In front of her Madara towered like an executor. For a moment Tobirama was a little bit worried, until he remembered that the seemingly frail woman in front of the enraged warrior was able to pull up barriers within a blink. Very nasty barriers with limited access to air and… He shuddered inwardly and tried to think about something else. He would probably never get over that.

Madara had a bright red face and was gesticulating exaggeratedly. Tobirama didn’t hear a word, so the house was probably protected by a soundproof barrier, but it… kind of looked funny how Madara barked and growled without any sound.

"I want candy for breakfast! I really, really want it!" Nozomi dubbed in her high-pitched voice and giggled. "I'm all red because I want it so bad! Give me some candy, Mama-chan!". Tobirama shot her an irritated glance. The young Uchiha’s lacking respect towards her father was something that startled him every time he witnessed it. And the fact that he had seen Madara grinning after he had sent the snotty-nosed brat to her room for her cheeky behavior was worldview destroying anyway. It was almost as if he enjoyed the perky attitude. Tobirama’s own father would have all but murdered him if he said anything to him that was only remotely as bold as these girls talked to their father.

Well, these girls knew no restraint either and were usually crawling all over Madara as if he were a cuddly toy. They demanded attention, kisses and hugs, praises and goodnight stories. Tobirama would rather have murdered himself than asking his father even for a pat on the shoulder!

Tobirama was biased; either he was witnessing the raising of little geniuses with healthy minds (Hashirama always said hugging your child was healthy and meant parent-child-bonding), or just the typical Uchiha madness.

Inside the livingroom Nojiriko showed a perfect use of sneak-up tactics. Moving quickly, yet as sparingly as possible, she made use of every shadow and cover until she reached the table next to Madara and Mito. Tobirama leaned forward because... well, it was actually kind of exciting. The three children next to him had also fallen silent.

Madara made another debauched hand gesture and Nojiriko froze for a moment, completely unprofessional. She stared at Madara with her mouth open and only flinched violently when Mito jumped to her feet and started gesticulating just as wildly.

The girl broke her freeze and elegantly dropped onto her stomach to crawle under the table until she could easily pull the scarf from under Mito. On the same way she came in she went out again and dropped next to the chalk and wrote down thirty points under her name. She seemed quite shaken.

“What is it, Aneki?”, Akako, the softer one of the twins, squatted down next to her sister and wrapped her scrawny arms around the older girl.

“He….”, Nojiriko said und to Tobirama’s surprise her voice shook in awe and respect, “… he called Mother ‘stupid’!”

“UFF!”, both twins made in one breath and they also sounded shaken from terrorized awe.

“The man has the guts.”, Kagetora muttered in stunned awe, “But I guess you are going to be half-orphans now.” Tobirama had to admit that he was probably right. Nobody ever dared to call Mito ‘stupid’. She was a force of nature if she wanted to be and if it came to respecting her…

The muffled shouts coming through the soundproof Uzumaki barrier were proof enough. Tobirama almost pitied Madara for what he had cast on himself. The view alone was something, he neither had to hear Mito to be impressed, nor would he have needed to feel the choking wells of Mito’s and the Fox Demons’s chakra. With some effort, Tobirama blocked the wild chakra combination from his heightened senses and watched as the seasoned warrior took a step back to avoid the tiny fist of his petite wife.

“It’s coming right now. He makes the face again.”, Nozomi commented and Kagetora blew out a disgusted ‘eeeuwh’ and disappeared from the window. Tobirama gave the little girl a frown and she tittered. “Kissy-no-jutsu! Papa has invented the kissy-no-jutsu to calm Mama down.”

When Tobirama looked back into the room Mito and Madara were really kissing; or more devouring each other and Tobirama turned away embarrassed. To hide his own mortification he put his hand on the little girls head and tried to turn her away. It was certainly not appropriate for a eight-year-old watching her parents licking each other’s mouth like dogs in rut. The girl escaped his hand with a surprising smooth move and glued herself back to the window. With a disappointed sigh she turned back to her sisters.

“He’s going over to bedroom-no-jutsu. It’s over for today.”, she explained to her sisters and Nojiriko gave her a nod and started to sum up the points.

“Tora-Tora didn’t go in even once!”, Akako complained, but the boy blew her only a raspberry. In Tobirama’s opinion the boy was the only sane person her. Probably because of the Senju traits from his mother’s side. Even if Tōka could barely be considered a sane Senju. She had married an Uchiha. On the other hand Tobirama had to give at least some credits for reason to Uchiha Hikaku, because he had married a Senju, so… well.

“Are you doing that a lot?”, Tobirama asked after a while hesitantly and Nojiriko gave him a sparse nod.

“Papa sends us always to Unkle Hikaku’s or Uncle Izuna’s, when he wants to argue with Mama. But we never go!”, Nozomi chuckled and wrapped herself around Kagetora like a constrictor snake. He endured it like a man. The boy really had some guts on his own for dealing with a bunch of crazy girls. If these were the future wives of Konoha Tobirama could only pity the future male population. Mixing Uchiha blood with Uzumaki blood seemed to be a really dangerous thing.

“They will be busy for a while now, Tobirama-sama.”, Nojiriko said politely after putting the chalk aside and folding the looted shawl carefully. “They always take their time when having sex. But… I could probably get Father for you, if it is really important.” She sounded a little bit hesitant and that was the first appropriate reaction Tobirama had seen on these children until now. Interrupting Madara and Mito while doing the nasty… that sounded like a challenge not even Hashirama would have taken.

“Maybe we get another baby brother!”, Nozomi giggled, “Mama said she wanted another!”

“Oh geez, this one is already too loud.”, Akako sighed like an old woman and Nojiriko set the shawl aside, giving Tobirama an expectant look.

“Do you need to see Father, Tobirama-sama? I need to go in and fetch Han-chan if you don’t.”

“Just… fetch your brother. I’ll go to Hikaku-san, he will probably know the things I need.”, Tobirama sighed and made a shooing gesture. “And you all are going with me. No longer stalking on your parents while having… sex. What do you shrimps know about sex anyways?”, he rumbled rhetorically and rolled his eyes. Sexual education in a world where young girls went out as kunoichi was an early thing. Uchiha girls probably received that education even earlier, as they were potential targets of kekkai genkai thievery. But eight-years-olds picking up the pre-copulation habits of their parents was something else.

Unfortunately these girls didn’t know about rhetorical questions.

“It’s how you make babies.”, Nozomi told him with a very serious face, “Why, don’t you know? Didn’t you have sex with Hanako-chan’s Mama? You made her, didn’t you?”

Tobirama gave her a blunt look. Instead of stopping, the girl made a sighing face like a teacher over a rather dense student.

“It’s when you put your boy-parts into the girl-parts of your girlfriend.”

“But only if she asks you to!”, Akako chimed in with a very serious face, while Kagetora behind her turned red like a beet. “Else she’ll chop it off!”

Nozomi chuckled. “Yeah, Papa said we should chop it off regardless who tries. Always. Because sex is only allowed when you are thiiiis big!” She stretched with both arms high over her head. “Like when you are fifty!”

She ogled Tobirama with a conspiratory grin. “I am really good at chopping off boy-parts. Papa showed us how to do it with the dummy in the yard. Do you want me to show you?”

Tobirama stared at the two little girls and wondered on what point of his life exactly he had made that incredibly wrong turn that led him to a lesson about sex and cutting off dicks with Madara’s underaged daughters.

Well. At least Madara seemed to have brought over the whole “How I don’t get raped.” thing without disturbing his daughters, even if Tobirama thought that his methods were rather questionable. But he wasn’t in a position to judge a man handling that kind of horrifying father-daughter-talks. Hanako had looked at him as if he was a madmen when he had tried to explain the biological facts of vaginal intercourse to her. She had told him that she would ask Uncle Hashirama or Uncle Izuna about that issue in the future.

Uncle Hashirama or Uncle Izuna. As if of all people, one of those two had even the slightest clue about sex with women.

He sighed heavily and scratched the back of his head. Somehow this whole village turned out completely different from what he had ever expected. He had thought he would have to keep an eye on the potential traitorous Uchiha all the time, maybe convincing his older brother to give them tasks that kept them occupied and out of the real businesses regarding the village. He had expected bad blood and troubles all the time. A mad and dangerous Madara and a scheming Izuna. Put it simple: A boiling cauldron with lots of potential to explode.

What he hadn't expected was himself kind of idling on said Uchiha Madara’s porch, getting a free lecture about castration by the man’s snotty-nosed daughters while Madara himself was indulging in the marriage bed with his wife. And he had expected even less that it would all feel so terribly ordinary.

They were really at peace, weren’t they? Tobirama had thought that they wouldn’t come there even the next hundred years, but well… It was probably all the fault of that bratty marten and his unholy unity with dorky Hashirama. That unbearable two-headed chimera of Senju-Uchiha-harmony and their unfailing attempts to make Senju and Uchiha talking with each other instead of assuming, accusing, plotting and fighting!

Stupid marten. Stupid marten that had taken up nests in the Senju Clan, had its nimble fingers everywhere, even in Hashirama’s pants and books.

Tobirama made a frustrated noise and shook his head. Who was he trying to deceive? By now he loved his brother-in-law almost like a real brother. And he loved the village.

He returned his attention to the junior Uchiha-brats surrounding him.

“Whatever… we are going now. … What were the two of them fighting about anyways?”

“Ah… Papa wants to talk to Mama’s belly-button-pet to befriend it, but Mama thinks it’s too dangerous.”, Akako explained and jumped off the porch to toddle off towards Hikaku’s house.

Tobirama let out some air and shivered. What did that fucking Uchiha plan once again?

Chapter Text

Izuna pressed his nose almost flat against the window and looked over to the children in the garden. All three of them were standing on the infamous fishpond in Madara’s backyard and doing their taijutsu routine.

They were a weird trio, that was true so much. A gangly fourteen-year-old Shimura boy, a sturdy ten-year-old Uchiha girl and a lanky nine-year-old Senju girl, all three with grim faces and sweat on their brows. But their taijutsu looked fine so far. Better than it had been one year ago.

He had never lost track of that brash boy he had saved years ago from harassment by his own Clan members. Danzō had made him suspicious with his suggestive questions about the Sharingan, and Izuna trusted his instincts. When something smelled like shit there was probably shit.

Turned out, that the suspicious boy was the son of exactly that Shimura woman his father had nearly betrothed him to. It turned out that the suspicious boy was the son of the very same Shimura woman with whom his father had almost betrothed him. This did not make him any more friendly toward Danzō, even though he knew that neither the woman nor her son were to blame for the almost-betrothal. In general, one could feel sorry for both of them. Izuna had met and observed Shimura Ronin, Danzō's father, and the man was neither friendly nor patient nor anything else that a father—or a good person in general—should be. One of his favorite pastimes seemed to be humiliating his own son and telling him that he was a weakling who would never amount to anything unless he stole or cheated.

The influence of that attitude on Danzō had become slightly better, when the boy had enrolled to the academy, a few weeks after his first encounter with Izuna. And it had greatly improved the day Danzō had made the fault to cross ways with Nojiriko and tried to bully her and Hanako. Nojiriko had not only whipped his ass for the try but also separated him from his bullying friends and made him into hers and Hanako’s official rival.

Being an Uchiha’s declared rival wasn’t easy and came usually with a lot of bruises and even more training. No Uchiha could stand a weak rival. Izuna knew that from firsthand. He had Tobirama and Madara had Hashirama and it still wasn’t the same to train with others than them. A perfectly matched rival was something that was not only satisfying but also provided endless opportunities to improve – at least as long as said rival didn’t manage to stab and slice one in half.

Casually Izuna touched his stomach, where that ugly scar disfigured his skin. It was a broad, badly stretched, silvery discolored scar, and it hurt like a bitch at changes in the weather pattern.

Hashirama had tried to remove it, and while Izuna was thankful for the try, he still was somehow glad that he didn’t succeed. He somehow loved the scar, because that scar was his personal prove that he had survived an almost certain death sentence. A death sentence that had turned his whole life to the better, by gratifying him with the perfect husband on his side.

Not to mention that Hashirama loved the scar, too. His kind offers to rub salve into the stiff tissue usually ended in either a generous massage and sex or in Hashirama kissing and licking his whole body and THEN sex.

Maybe he should return the favor and offer Hashirama to use the salve on Hashirama’s scars today. The scars from the Kyūbi incident were less than expected, but there was still that clear difference in skin color, where Hashirama had regrown a whole shoulder including his arm. And there were the bitemarks, silvery marks on his face and chest. One of them had split Hashirama’s brow and that brow had never knit together again – kind of ridiculous given the fact that Hashirama’s body had been able to replace a whole limb. But Izuna loved those scars for the same reason as he loved his own scar.

They lived. They had been on their way into the Pure Lands, and they returned and lived. Despite of all odds they still were alive and they were together.

“Spying in the children again?”, Mito interrupted his thoughts and gave him a soft smile. He smiled back and wrapped his arm over her shoulder to press her for a moment against his side. He felt the unruly fox-chakra over her own, cooler chakra, and smiled.

“Yes, I watched the Shimura boy. He changed a lot over the last year. Not longer a coward and his skills are quite impressive. He is stronger than he looks and his chakra control is formidable. I haven’t thought that he would have this in him.”

“The girls are strict teachers.”

“Yes, they are.”, Izuna agreed and turned from the window to face Mito. His sister-in-law and sister-by-heart smiled softly. He was very glad to have her back, after he had almost ruined their bond by insulting her for sealing the Kyūbi in her body. Even after he had known that Hashirama would survive the attack, it had been hard to overcome the feeling that Mito was a monster. She wasn’t a monster. She not even had a monster inside of her, because from all Madara and she had told him and Hashirama, the Kyūbi – Kurama! Who would have known that the beast had even a name! – was just as hurt by war and hate and misunderstanding as any of them was. Just that the Kyūbi was a giant chakric entity with a lot more potential for destruction.

He still wasn’t friends with the idea of the fox-monster residing in his best friend’s belly and he certainly would never try to befriend that thing, like Mito and Madara tried now. (Madara even said that he could see his old self in the fox, and wasn’t that ridiculous?) But by now he could see beyond it. Mito was still Mito, bright, cheeky, elegant Mito, with her loving heart and a devotion that matched an Uchiha’s devotion.

The wife of his brother.

The mother of his nieces and his nephew.

“Nojiriko-chan mentioned, that the boy will finish the academy in a few weeks.”, Mito said and lent her head against his shoulder to look out herself. “I wonder who his Jonin-instructor will be. He will need somebody who not only suits his skills, but also someone who matches his mindset. He’s a weasel.”

Izuna snorted.

“Oh, Mito, are you trying to be subtle? I almost think you imply that – let’s say it like Tobi would – the big ol’ marten should take the little weasel under his wings?”

“Marten don’t have wings.”, Mito said dryly and gave him a blunt look, “You already consider it.”

“I do. I was never a Jonin-instructor, but I enjoyed training Kagami a lot, and I always thought that I’d like to teach more. And even Tobirama could be a Jonin-instructor. So why shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, why not. You could talk to Madara or Hashirama and they can find a fitting team for you.”

“Yeah, and if I don’t get the team I want to have, I just pull the brother AND the lover card and insist on it, don’t I?”

“One has to play their cards just right, I guess.”, Mito grinned and petted his back, “Still mad about that, Pony?”

“Ah, please… Only mildly on the verge of madness, plotting how to turn certain curse-marked clan members against their own arrogant asshole of a leader. The usual.”

“Classic Hyūga and Uchiha animosities then, I guess.”

“Absolutely.”

Mito only sighed and Izuna grinned.

“Did you know that Hitoshi literally demanded at least twice as much space as the Uchiha compound? Because, and I quote, “they are accustomed to a certain standard of living.” Can you imagine that audacity? Right into Nii-san’s face!”

“And what did our diplomatic meat chopper answer to that?”

“That, of course, Hitoshi can have the territory, but he shouldn't imagine that a larger clan compound will change the fact that he has a small dick. And the inferior Dōjutsu.”

Mito gasped for air and freed herself from Izuna’s hug to look at him in disbelief and terror, while Izuna snickered dirtily.

“He didn’t.”

“No, he didn’t. But I know that he wanted. He only said the part with the Dōjutsu.”

Mito sighed exasperate. “You can bet that an Uchiha will turn negotiations with a Hyūga into a dick-measuring contest.”

“They HAVE the inferior Dōjutsu!”

Mito only snorted to that and Izuna nudged his elbow against her side. He basically knew that he shouldn’t make fun of that issue, because Madara’s comment had almost caused the Hyūga to leave the village. It had costed Hashirama and the rest of the council (including Izuna, who had been barely able to stop himself from agreeing loudly with his brother) a lot to calm down the enraged Hyūga Clan Head and his escorts. Only the promise that they would really get a new and bigger compound and that it would be on the opposite site of Konoha to the Uchiha compound turned the discussion. Well, and then Hyūga Hitoshi had demanded an apology from Madara for his claim.

Izuna had opened his mouth to tell that bigheaded prick where he could stuff that apology, because the day his brother apologized to a lowly Hyūga inbred the world would go down.

He hadn’t been able to say that, because Tobirama stomped onto his foot with so much force that something broke, while simultaneously some familiar twines wrapped themselves around his wrist. He went back on Tobirama with a kick against his shin and threw Hashirama a dirty glare, but the moment was over and Madara had already told Hitoshi with a dire smile that he apologized for bringing up his personal opinion in an official meeting.

A quite diplomatic move from his impressively collected brother as Izuna thought.

Hitoshi didn’t think so.

Well. In the end the Hyūga were satisfied with the rearrangement of their compound without another apology or insult.

Izuna wouldn’t have mourned them leaving all too much, though.

“Oh, look at that! When did she learn that?”, Mito gasped and stepped closer to the window. Izuna followed her and saw how Nojiriko almost dreamily dodged all the attacks that Danzō and Hanako directed at her. It looked like a well-rehearsed dance—or as if she could see their attacks a second in advance.

Izuna grinned broadly, pure pride dripping out of his voice. “Look at that girl!”, he whistled, “She’s almost there!”

“You mean?”

“Well… that’s, my dear Mito-chan, how it looks when your daughter is ready for her Sharingan. It’s there, just waiting to come out.”, Izuna explained and gave Mito a soft smile. “She’s an early one as it seems. You should tell Madara about it, he’ll want to have a look.” He bit his lower lip. “Did… you two ever talk about the Sharingan? How you gain it?”

“He said it needs an emotional trigger.”

Izuna nodded thoughtfully and watched his niece pushing her two opponents back with ease – at least until the two of them started working together. It was really enjoyable to watch these children growing.

“It is usually pain or fear of death. Really fucking great emotional distress. For Nii-san it was losing Hashirama and declaring him an enemy. For me nearly dying against Tobirama and his father.”

Mito didn’t say anything to that, so Izuna assumed that she already knew.

“There have been endless discussions over generations how to trigger the Sharingan else. There are very few reports from ancient times claiming that the trigger could also be positive feelings, like love, but they are more legends than true reports. All known generations have gained their Sharingan by pain, hate, sorrow and fear.” He sighed in uneasiness. He knew that it was important for his niece to awaken her Sharingan to survive in this world – and to be a proper Uchiha Clan Head. But the mere thought of her being in pain was horrible. “Did Madara tell you, that he was a late one?”

“He said he had his with fourteen.”

“Yes. When losing our siblings didn’t trigger it, the Elders came to our house to talk to father about forcing it. I was an eavesdropping little rat back then, so I hid in one of the storages under the tatami mats in our living room and listened. They said that according to his movements he should have had it already before Myoko-ane died, but he didn’t. They assumed that losing Kurohime-ane and Togakushi-ani had messed up his feelings so much that losing another sibling wasn’t enough anymore to trigger it.”

Izuna gulped down the sour taste in his mouth he always had when he remembered that day.

“They… one way to force the Sharingan is torture.”

“WHAT?”, Mito gasped loudly, almost yelled and her eyes were big and angry, “They planned to do WHAT, Izuna?”

“They planned to torture him. He had lost almost all of his loved ones, he was already fighting life-threatening fights, there wasn’t a lot more they could do than breaking his trust and hurting him purposefully until he snapped. … Father acted… weird.”, Izuna frowned, digging deep into his memory. He rarely thought about that scene, and when he did, it was with pain and hate for the Elders. Especially for the woman who called herself his grandmother. She had had the loudest voice on that day. But how had father reacted? “Weird even for him. He… refused, almost… panicked?”

“At least that or otherwise I’d have to find a way to revive this man and kill him again.”

“Well, Tobirama has a jutsu for that, if you are interested.”, Izuna said stoic and turned his attention back to the children in the backyard. What an idea! He had no idea what he would feel if somebody in fact revived Tajima. Hell, he didn’t even know what to think about the dead man anyways.

There was much pain. Much anger. Even more uncertainty. He knew far too little about his own father in hindsight. He knew him as the man who trained him vigorously. He knew him as the man who most of the time ignored him in favor for duty, bloodshed or educating Madara into the perfect future Clan Head.

Mostly he remembered the harsh man who told him not to spent the last few hours of her life with his oldest sister.

But according to Binchōtan that hadn’t been the real Tajima. Or, better, it had been the real Tajima, but the version the loss of his wife had turned him into.

Izuna knew now how it felt to lose the love of one’s life. Nearly losing Hashirama had been mind-blowing, for a moment he had lost himself in the pain and rejected everybody, even Madara who always had been his anchor.

He still wondered how Mito had been able to forgive his behavior after he woke and called her a monster for imprisoning the ninetails in her body.

So, he vaguely could relate to his father. Losing love could be followed by losing everything, and obviously his children hadn’t been enough for Tajima to stay sane. Or maybe Tajima had thought that he was sane, that he was actually doing his best to protect them. And well, Izuna and Madara had become the strongest warrior the Uchiha had ever had. They had fought armies on their own, they had withstood the Senju brothers, they had outlived Tajima.

But sometimes… only sometimes, Izuna thought that he would have gladly given up the perfection of one or two jutsu if it meant he could have had a father. A real father who wasn't too cold and too busy to tell his son about his mother or at least give him a hug every now and then.

Watching Madara with his children was both comforting and painful, as Izuna realized that raising children to be capable ninja and clan heirs did not mean that one could not show them love. The children got their hugs and goodnight kisses and bedtime stories and they were still fine. Nojiriko was one of the best pre-Genin at academy, Nozomi was a genius in taijutsu and Akako showed an astounding talent for fūin jutsu (Izuna was very curious about the combination of fūin knowledge and the Sharingan; that had to be really badass.) and while Han was with his three years far behind everything Izuna could do at his age, he showed some really promising traits. At the moment he was to everybody’s surprise the peacemaker in his pre-academy group. Had somebody ever heard of an Uchiha who stopped toddler-arguments by hugs and giving pecks or sharing his own toys? He was so peaceful and gentle that it was almost frightening. The only thing that completely defeated Han's amazing toddler-patience and peacefulness was when animals were involved. No one was allowed to harm an animal. That even included mosquitoes, which is why Madara's house was the only one in the whole village without flyswatters. As a result of Han’s preferences, Mito's insect repellent tags became really amazing and were currently making their way to be a popular household remedy among the Uchiha.

Lost in their thoughts, Izuna and Mito fell into a shared silence while the children in the garden began practicing swordplay.

Izuna thought about the Sharingan, his father, his grandmother. The day he had awoken his Sharingan. The gruesome night he thought he had killed Madara and gained his Mangekyou Sharingan by it. The moment he had learned that it had been a trap set up by his own grandmother to force the cursed eyes onto him to have a replacement for Madara’s eyes. How he had lost what little trust he had left.

He would make sure that none of the Uchiha children living in Konoha would have to go through a hell like that.

He was about to tell that Mito, when suddenly the front door crashed open and hasty footsteps were to be heard. Mito and he flinched, when Kagami almost toppled into the room, face pale and eyes wide – a teenager at the peak of panic.

“Nii-san!”, Kagami shrieked and grabbed for Izuna’s wrist, “I… She… they!”

“Kagami… calm down!”

“I… I…”

“Kagami-kun, calm down.”, Mito chimed in and grabbed the boy’s shoulder. Boy – or more like a young man. With sixteen Kagami was as tall as Izuna was, even if he consisted mostly from bones and curly locks than anything else.

“I can’t!”, Kagami wailed in distress, but then his shoulders dropped and he wrapped his arms around Izuna’s neck. “Nii-san, its coming!”

“What? … Hold on… you mean?”

“The baby is coming!”, Kagami wheezed with a wobbly lip and shaky hands, “I am not ready to become a father now! I… I am… I… what shall I do?”

Mito snorted and opened the room to the kitchen. “You should have thought about that before you and your girlfriend played hide-the-eel without protection.”, she muttered dryly and waved them over, “Come on, I’ll make us some tea. I guess the midwife sent you to us?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so. She knows her stuff. Now, sit down and we’ll wait for the new Uchiha to arrive. They’ll get us when they’re ready.”, she snickered and Izuna snickered with her, patting Kagami’s back a little harder than strictly necessary.

“Yeah, come on, Kagami. At least you aren’t the one who had to bear the baby.”

“I doubt he would have survived THAT.”, Mito giggled from the kitchen and Izuna grinned.

Chapter Text

Izuna tossed his hat off and shrugged the wide traveler’s cloak from his shoulders. With a happy squeal he flopped into the soft grass growing thick and lush all over the hillside. Millions of flowers bloomed all around them, scenting the area with the sweet perfumes of summer. It was almost sickening idyllic.

He stretched his limbs in delight like a lazy cat and only blinked when a shadow fell into his face.

“Ah, Pretty. You certainly are a sight, very hard to resist.”, Hashirama said with a charming grin and shrugged the collar of his yukata from his skin. He had rolled up his cloak long ago, alongside with his hakama pants, and stuffed both into a sealing scroll dangling from his belt. If Izuna hadn’t called him an indecent barbarian he probably would have stripped off the yukata as well. He did now, at least halfway, by slipping out of his sleeves. Izuna grinned and brushed the bangs out of his face.

“Ah, you’re the one to talk. What’s with this show you put up?”

“It’s no show, it’s just unbearable hot. I don’t know how you can stand this many clothes all the time.”

“It’s called decency.”

“A yukata is absolutely appropriate for summer.”

“Says the man who nearly killed that poor guy in front of the onsen because he looked vaguely in my direction while I was wearing a yukata.”

“He was ogling you.”

“He wasn’t. Why should he? It’s not as if every man in the world is eager to flirt or fuck with me. That’s only your head, my dear.”

“I stand by what I said and saw.”

Izuna chuckled and closed his eyes again, taking in a deep breath. It was kind of reassuring to know that his husband was still jealous every now and then. “Anyways, it was a good idea to come here. I really like it. Will you lay down with me?”

“Ah, let me get something to drink first.”

“Then hurry up. I might just take a nap here and now and you know… if you wake me from a nap, you maybe have to deal a slap.”

Hashirama snorted about the poor rhyme (Izuna had never once slapped him anyways; and he had woken him countless times.) and toddled off to the little rivulet they had passed only a minute ago. He cupped a few handful of water to drink and also scrub his sweaty armpits and face. Only when he was about to raise again, slender arms wrapped themselves around his neck. A light kiss was brushed against his cheek. Izuna smelled like soap and fire and Hashirama sucked greedily up the scent.

“I love you.”, Izuna said affectionately and Hashirama rose his hand blindly behind himself until he found Izuna’s cheek and could cup it softly.

“I love you, too, Pretty. So, you’re happy?”

“I am. Thank you for being here with me. I really needed that.”

“A hillside?”

“Having you all for myself.”

Hashirama chuckled endeared and turned to catch Izuna into a real kiss; a slow, deep kiss just like he knew Izuna liked it the most. And once again his pretty boy melted against him, a little greedy moan escaped those sweet lips. When he was done with him, Izuna was all flushed and glassy eyes; he looked so fuckable that Hashirama thought about just pressing him to the ground and having him. They had no oil, but a decent blowjob would suit him very well right now. Maybe he could have Izuna’s thighs, he wouldn’t mind the friction and he could drive Izuna crazy by brushing his perineum with every push. He knew for a long time now that Izuna’s inner thighs were really sensitive, he regularly molested them with bruising love bites just because he loved how Izuna always tried to wiggle away from his lips while he trembled and moaned in pleasure.

“Stop that, perv.”, Izuna snarled and pressed his hand into Hashirama’s face.

“What?”

“You are thinking of sex again. Honestly, nobody would believe me if I told them that our well honored Taiyō no Hokage is thinking most of the time with his dick and nothing else!”

“Only when you are around.”

Izuna snorted again, rather dirtily, and shook his head. “If that should be a compliment, it’s a weak one.”

“But you love me making love to you.”

“I’d love being able to kiss you without having you in my pants every time afterwards.”, Izuna stated indignantly and turned around. Probably to trot back where he had left his cloak and hat.

“Liar.” Hashirama muttered and he was sure that he saw Izuna grinning. And Hashirama being Hashirama, he opted for a little mischief. With a smooth move he was behind Izuna and threw him over his shoulder, his hand landing with dead on target on the firm roundness of his husband’s butt. Izuna squeaked and wiggled, but the fact alone that he was still positioned on Hashirama’s shoulder was consent enough. Nobody ever kept one Uchiha Izuna on his shoulder if he didn’t want to be there. Hashirama entertained himself with another lusty grip at Izuna’s rear, fingers pressing deeply into the pants-covered flesh, before he got a firm grip of Izuna’s thigh and held him.

“Pervy brute!”, Izuna rambled and yanked on his hair; not as hard as he could, only to make it exciting. Hashirama felt the familiar tingling of arousal and pressed his fingers into Izuna’s thigh, just to make him squirm a little more.

“Oh, come on, Pretty! I am not yet in your pants, as you called it. I am holding back!”

“You are abducting me like a savage!”

“I AM a savage.“

Izuna laughed; it was one of the most endearing sounds Hashirama knew in this world. “Okay, wild boy, and where are you bringing me now? Into your cave?”

 “I probably could find us a cave.”, Hashirama mused and eyed the hillside in front of them. A cave… or a hut. The mokuton was roaring close to his skin again anyways, he could use some outlet.

But then Izuna sighed and rubbed his hand over Hashirama’s back, his fingers tickling over scars and muscles. “Let me down, please. I’d actually prefer if we could… just be here, for a while.”, he said softly. Hashirama hesitated for a moment. He really liked the idea to have Izuna here and now – outdoor sex was always a turn-on – and it would probably only take a few well-set touches to seduce Izuna into changing his mind. But… Izuna seldomly used ‘please’ and he seemed to be in a soft, sweet mode.

With a little smile Hashirama stroke one last time over the firm thigh right next to his face (so biteable) and finally let Izuna slip off his shoulder. He kept him close, though, the warm body compliantly snuggled against his bare chest.

Izuna’s face was red from hanging head-down, but he smiled at Hashirama with warm, dark eyes and a serene smile on his full lips. Hashirama suspired dramatically and stole another kiss, shoving one hand almost brutally into the tousled black mane of his lover. Izuna gave in like a ragdoll and followed him to the ground as soon as Hashirama dropped onto his back.

They found a comfortable position that included Izuna curled up against his side, his nose more or less shoved into Hashirama’s bare axe. Hashirama found that a little bit questionable, but if his lover liked how he smelled… well, who would complain about that. Making a content sound Hashirama blew a little kiss against Izuna’s crown. Izuna echoed the sound and nuzzled his nose against Hashirama’s skin.

“You removed the hair again.”, Izuna muttered after a while and rolled a little closer until he could rest his check on Hashirama’s chest. Hashirama chuckled.

“Yep. Did.”

“Not your thing?”

“Nope.”

“Hashirama?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed. It’s okay. If you don’t like it, you don’t like it.”

“I know. But you ask so rarely about things like that.”

“Still. It’s yours, you can do with it whatever you like. Or whatever IT likes. If I remember correctly my face failed spectacularly to grow something one could remotely call a beard when you asked me to.”

“It was cute!”, Hashirama snickered and picked a flower to stick it into Izuna’s hair. The tiny thing looked pretty there, but a bit lonely, so he picked another and added it. And a third, because… why not?

“It looked like I had a mangy rat glued to my face.”

Now Hashirama laughed, the sixth little flower almost falling out of his fingers. “Yes… yes, it did.”, he giggled and caught Izuna’s perfectly smoothly shaved cheek under his hand, curling himself so much that he could kiss Izuna’s lips. “But Madara’s face was absolutely worth it!”

Now Izuna snickered, too. “Oh sweet Indra, those looks were brilliant! As if he was about to shave me with his kusarigama! But he never once mentioned it!”

“I bet he was ready to do just that! The ratty face-fur seemed to disturb him tremendously.”

“Ratty face-fur? I’ll give you some ratty face-fur!”, Izuna fake-growled, but then he just inhaled again deeply and sighed in content, his fingers roaming somewhere at the hem of Hashirama’s pants. That was definitely sending a tingle through the older man, but he didn’t feel the immediate urge to make more of it anymore. Instead he closed his eyes again, relaxed into the touch and concentrated on the sun on his skin, the smell of the grass around them, and Izuna’s soft breathing next to him. It was perfectly calming and while Hashirama loved his village and his Clan dearly, doing everything he could to meet the expectations of those who relied on him, he realized that Izuna had been right. The work had been piling up the last few months, rarely giving them time for each other or even to rest. He had grown thin-skinned, almost as easy to anger as Madara, and according to Izuna he had also grown physically thin. Well, he didn’t feel as fit as he had been, that was true, and while the thought reminded him that he was desperately in need to shape up again, he just couldn’t manage to worry right now.

It was perfect, right now. This was their vacation, this was his beloved one in his arms, and they were just two anonymous traveler enjoying a peaceful hillside.

Maybe, and Hashirama was surprised that he didn’t feel the sting of a guilty conscience anymore when he thought about it, it was time to step back a little. He had no idea how Madara did with that constant pressure of leading, paperwork and meetings, but Madara had always been more disziplined (not patient) with that. And he wasn’t Madara. Hashirama was well aware that his nature was the absolute opposite of a paper pusher. He needed to be outside regularly, in the woods, where he could circulate the immense pressure of his mokuton into fights or back into nature. He had already told his deepest fear to Izuna; the fear that one day his own kekkai genkai could get the better of him. Izuna had been surprised, and Hashirama had explained him what he had learned over the last few years. That his kekkai wasn’t only to combine water chakra and earth chakra to something completely new mokuton chakra. It was more, had become more. It had become stronger, especially after the Kyūbi attack, as if his near-death had burst his natural limits and expanded his skills into something that had never been meant to be. These days it almost felt as if he did not only mold his own chakra anymore but had access to nature itself. As if he was part of the plants surrounding him. He could hear the trees whisper, faint voices like wind between leaves, somewhere between actual voices and the distant feeling of understanding on a whole other level.

Sometimes it was bothering.

Most of the time, when it became too strong and he was too busy to go outside, it became creepy.

And yet, when they were outside, like now, he just felt so much part of the environment that he lost track of who he was and what nature was in a very relaxing and enlightening way.

It definitely felt better to be outside in nature than to sit hours and hours behind a desk.

“When we are back, I want to announce my retirement. I might carry the hat for one year more, until the people have chosen my successor and they are properly worked in. But then… that’s it.”

There was a moment of silence, where only the buzzing of insects and a few birds were to hear. Izuna’s breathing next to him sounded unusually loud and Hashirama felt himself tense. He had been a bit afraid about this decision; all of his life he had heard that he needed to contain himself, that he needed to lead and that there were no way out. He already feared Tobirama’s opinion about that. Tobirama’s opinion on him sharing the duties towards the Senju Clan with Izuna had been disastrous, even if admittedly Tobirama’s main complaint had been that Hashirama hadn’t told him beforehand. But… it just had happened. He had taken Izuna with him, asked him for a favor or two and Izuna had been so sweet and helpful and good for that job, so he just started to continue to help and took over more and more. All Hashirama had been able to think what a great husband he had, perfectly suited to be a Clan Head’s husband and a grandiose help to reduce the immense pressure on himself – and hadn’t it been a joy for both of the, when he came home, ready to work on Clan duty, just to find it already done and he had time to enjoy his life with his husband a bit?

But this wasn’t about handing over a part of his duties to somebody else. This was about quitting.

The decision to step back as Hokage was bigger. More conscious, and Hashirama was really afraid of disappointing the people. Disappointing Tobirama. Disappointing Madara. Disappointing Izuna. And all the others. He had thought that maybe Izuna would understand; Izuna had been always so understanding and supportive. But what if Izuna also thought that it was lazy and irresponsible of Hashirama, as one of the founders, to just step back from Konoha. Konoha was still young, barely more than fifteen years old. Maybe he was wrong and the village needed him…

“Indra’s balls! As soon as that hat is away from your head, I am going to drag you out into the woods for a whole year, I swear! We’ll just live naked like monkeys in the trees, all we care about is eating and fucking and sleeping and how we can enjoy our lives.”, Izuna burst out with an almost dream-like voice, that turned quickly cheeky, “The only thing we’ll take with us from civilization is lube! TONS of lube!”

Hashirama held his breath for a moment absolutely baffled, before he exploded into laughter.

“That’s… That’s what is in your mind when I tell you I want to retire as Hokage?”, he asked, when he had calmed down, still tears from laughing in his eyes, and was met with a stern look. Izuna had sat up and looked down on him, his perfect brows curling into a frown.

“Of course it is. I know it is your duty and you are a good Hokage and if you would want to be Hokage until you die, I will support you, no matter what. But having you for me alone, with no immediate strings attached? That sounds pretty much like a dream to me!”

“You don’t think that it is… like… irresponsible?”

“Gosh, no! You are just one man! You lived and led through war, you lead a Clan….”

“… actually you do the most…”

“… quiet. You lead a Clan and led them to peace. YOU gave the people that peace and you gave them a stable village. A home, where they can be safe. You almost died protecting that village. You led that village for over fifteen years.”, Izuna said with so much seriousness, that Hashirama felt almost embarrassed, “If you want to retire you have every fucking right to do so. We both know that won’t mean that you will not fight for the village and the people if needed. It only means less pressure, less time-consuming paper-pushing. Everyone needs a break. You hadn’t one for forty-one years, so it’s damned well time for a giant break. You are no almighty, immortal god, you know?”

“Well, they actually call me the God of Shinobi.”, Hashirama couldn’t resist to throw in. Izuna just snorted not very gracefully.

“Only because they don’t know that you are the God of Conscientiousness, Self-Abandonment and  People-Pleasing.”, Izuna muttered and then grinned dirtily, “And a god in bed, of course. But we won’t let them know that one. Never. I don’t share.”

Now Hashirama chuckled again, feeling the stress leaving his body.

“Speaking about jealousy, hm? Not every men is looking at me…”, he tried to quote what Izuna had said earlier, but Izuna shot him such a dirty look he couldn’t finish his sentence. Instead he just pulled Izuna into his arms and kissed his earlobe.

“So… you really think I can do that?”

“Of course, big boy. They will whine and grumble excessively, especially the council and the Elders, but only because it is uncomfortable to adjust to a new leadership.”

“But Madara…”

Izuna gave him a groan, full of fond exasperation, and climbed onto his lap, putting him flat to the earth effectively.

“Listen, my dear husband.”, he started and Hashirama could still feel the excitement of being titled Izuna’s husband loudly. “My brother is crazy. Like literally crazy with his overgrown sense for duty and his restlessness. He is the kind of man who will still work on his deathbed, so please…”, at this point Izuna even managed a stage-whine and Hashirama was really impressed, “… I beg you, please don’t use him as a role model. I might need to become a missing-nin, if you do.”

Hashirama only smiled gently up to his husband and caught one of those long bangs between his fingers. They shone still in their rich black, even though Izuna started already a few years ago complaining about silvery strands and thinning hair.

“So, you are really okay with it.”

“Absolutely.”, Izuna said, returning to all sincerity, eyes dark and soft, “Anything what makes you happy.”

Hashirama couldn’t help it; he felt a tear trickle down his cheek. Izuna just smiled down on him, sitting heavily on his lap, hair tousled and scattered flowers still in there. He only closed his eyes, when Hashirama cupped once again his cheek in his hand.

“Thank you.”, he whispered, and then, “And you? What would make you happy?”

Izuna grinned, glancing through his long lashes.

“I am pretty fine, big boy. But I’ll let you know.”

“Really? I could offer you some… action… if you are interested.”, Hashirama smirked and pushed his hip slightly upwards. He was rewarded with a playful clap against his chest.

“And now we are back to pervy, aren’t we?”

“All your fault. You are SITTING ON ME.”, Hashirama emphasized and tried to pull Izuna down for a kiss. But Izuna didn’t follow his lead. Instead he looked intensely at Hashirama, suddenly a little frown on his forehead.

“There… IS one thing I had been thinking about, I guess.”, Izuna said hesitantly and Hashirama knew his pretty one well enough by now, to feel that this wasn’t easy on him. His whole body was suddenly tense and his face showed all the hidden signs of insecurity Hashirama had learned carefully. So it was something big; emotionally big, probably. For all that Izuna was called something like a council-whisperer in the village, he had far too many troubles to express his true wishes and emotions. Izuna rarely asked for things for himself and if he did, it were mostly little things. But he also worked hard to trust that Hashirama (and Madara) were actually interested in his true needs.

At least he was out of that habit to vanish into the shadows and identifying himself as an extension of Madara; sometimes that had worried Hashirama a lot.

So, Hashirama waited for Izuna to find the words. He didn’t ask, didn’t push. There were times Izuna needed that, but not this time. So, Hashirama was patient and eventually Izuna continued, even if he cast his eyes down. It was an unusual shy expression.

“When you are retiring… Maybe…”, Izuna sighed embarrassedly, “… I was thinking, maybe we could have a little thing.”

“A little… thing?”

“Yeah… only if you are comfortable with it, but I thought a lot about it back then, when Kagami was smaller and I guess the thought never left me. It’s just, a little one… It’s probably a bad idea anyways, I have no idea how…”, Izuna squirmed and tried to slip from Hashirama’s lap. Hashirama stopped him and sat up, pulling him closer while they were almost eye to eye. He felt his own heartbeat speed up a little bit.

“Izuna! You mean… A little one… as in… a child?”

“Yes. Yeah. A… a child.”

“I was thinking about the same. I thought, maybe we could start already with getting used to the idea, talk about how we want to do it and what we’d need to change in the house and…”, Hashirama was getting really excites. “Maybe we could even have a whole bunch of children, you know? I can’t imagine being a child without siblings, and…”

Izuna stopped his rambling with a kiss. Not the most skillful or doting kiss, more a very emotional smooch, but his eye shone and he grinned at Hashirama as if he already had got them a child, right there on the spot.

“Awesome!”, Izuna grinned and got himself another kiss, “For or five or maybe a whole dozen, if we are at it!”

Hashirama just laughed, because he already knew: This was going to be the best decision in their whole life!

Chapter Text

“It’s a pig.”

Izuna said it as if it was a crime, and shot him that signature look of his that said “don’t fool around, Senju”. Hashirama used his usual way to deal with it and pretended not to notice it.

“It’s a piglet. Isn’t it cute?”, he cooed and held the tiny animal in front of himself. It was really cute, a tiny face, almost smiling in its sleep, floppy ears and a pudgy little body with almost delicate feet. It was mostly gray with darker spots and felt unbelievable soft in his hands.

“It’s a pig.”, Izuna repeated and rose one of his perfectly sculptured eyebrows. They didn’t grow so perfectly by nature, Hashirama knew that after he had once surprised Izuna hunting stray hair with a squeezer. But according to Izuna he must have been hallucinating when he saw that, so he never mentioned it again. Just as he never mentioned those cute gray strands that had appeared in Izuna’s bangs over the last few years. His pretty husband was a little bit pettish with his looks and Hashirama feared the day Izuna would realize that the soft laugh lines Hashirama loved to kiss so much, would sooner or later become wrinkles.

“Yes, it’s a pig. A tiny, cute little baby pig.”, Hashirama acknowledged and squatted next to his husband, the baby pig still in his hands. He turned it so that Izuna could see the almost-smiling-snout. “It stays small. A little bit bigger than Madapi-chan.”

Izuna’s eyebrow rose higher. “Did you just compare my cat to a pig?”, he asked, gracefully missing the point. Ah, so he prepared for getting angry. Hashirama knew that tactic, Izuna wielded his anger, wrath or jealousy as skilled as his sword and used them to cut up anything that didn’t pass his approval. It also told him that Izuna already suspected that Hashirama wanted to keep the piglet. Well. At least it meant that the idea was not so absurd to him that he didn’t even think of it.

“I compared the size of your cat to the size of my piglet.”, Hashirama corrected softly and offered the little animal for a closer look. “Look how she smiles!”

“She.”, Izuna breathed and cupped the plush body of his cat carefully while he shifted in his seat. The fat mother-cat was spread like a blanked over his chest, round head tucked tightly under Izuna’s chin and one paw around his neck, as if she was hugging him. The cat purred softly and didn’t even stop for a second during Izuna’s movement. “So... she... the pig… stays small? What’s the use for a small pig? It won’t even be worth fattening up, a pig of the size you indicate makes barely one meal for a family.”

Hashirama winced theatrically and pulled the piglet to his chest. “Don’t listen to that mean man, baby!”, he whined and covered the piglets ears, before he frowned at Izuna. “She isn’t meant to eat. She’s a pet. You keep her as a companion.”

“A pig.”, Izuna said and Hashirama wondered really, why he was riding the word “pig” so excessively. Yes, she was a pig. But a tiny, cute pig! “Hashirama.”, Izuna almost growled and now Madapi, the cat, turned her red-furred ears and started to swift her black tail. She was a colorful animal, white with big blotches of red and black. According to Izuna that was why he had called her Madara initially. Because of the blotches. Not to annoy his older brother. The name had been shortened to a much cuter Madapi, when they found out that it was a female cat (Hashirama suspected that being able to invent a Madara-related nickname had been Izuna’s plan from the beginning, as the human Madara would kill both of them if they ever called him something cute.). “Hashirama.”, Izuna repeated with a deep sigh, “Why would you keep a pig as a pet? Pigs are dirty. You yourself complained about cats in the house all the time, because according to you they have flees and dirt on their paws.”

“And they lick their butt. That is disgusting.”

“They keep themselves clean.”, Izuna corrected with a condescending look. “And my Honey-Bunny-Baby had never ever had one single flee. BUT!”, he growled, carefully cupping the cat’s head and letting her down into his lap, “But, we are not again discussing Madapi's bed-privileges. We are discussing the pig.”

No. They wouldn’t discuss the bed-privileges of the cat again. Hashirama had done his best to save himself from sharing a bed with a clawed and sharp-teethed animal that loved to hiss at him as soon as he touched Izuna “inappropriately” in her interpretation. He had lost the fight and now their bed was almost crowded in the morning with him, Izuna, the cat and one or two children every now and then. At least none of their sons had ever hissed at him for kissing “Papachi” awake. They always just wanted to have their share of kisses and Hashirama gave those gladly. He was very happy to have an overly cuddly family. Even if he had to share it with a fat cat.

“Actually, we are not discussing the pig. I like her. She has a name.”, Hashirama said boldly and almost regretted it when he saw the thunderstorm brewing in Izuna’s face. “Come on, Izunacchi. She won’t be a mess. The farmer who gave her to me said those little pigs are so clever, they can even be litter trained. She could have a home in the garden. The boys would love to play with her!”

Izuna’s face softened a little bit when he mentioned their sons. They had adopted the two of them only two years ago, one an orphan from the Uchiha Clan and the other a cheeky street urchin Hashirama had picked up in the capital, after the boy had almost managed to steal his purse. It had been a surprise for Hashirama, how Izuna bloomed into the role of a father and how much he enjoyed raising their little rascals. It had been an even bigger surprise for Hashirama to realize how he himself enjoyed being a father. Especially after he noticed that the boys were not as easily to damage by accident as he had imagined. Sometimes he thought it was more the other way around. The accidental kicks of a toddler into the soft and unprotected areas of their parents’ bodies were not to underestimate.

“… so, what’s the name of that pig?”, Izuna asked warily and Hashirama knew that he had won.

“Butako-chan.”

“You… called the pig… daughter of a pig?”

Hashirama grinned and almost laughed, when Izuna lay his head back and groaned loudly. He knew when he had won and he HAD won. It had been surprisingly easy. Probably because Butako was really cute.

“I’ll make her a little house in the garden, but I guess she can come…”

“… to the porch to play there with the boys. You are totally right, a pig wouldn’t want to live in a house with humans anyways.”, Izuna interrupted. Hashirama was about to correct that in fact he had wanted to say that the pig could at least keep them company in the living room, but Izuna quickly proceeded, “So, show that pig of yours to me.”

Hashirama didn’t need to be asked twice. He sat close to Izuna, and offered him the piglet again. Izuna looked for a while and finally reached out with his long fingers to give the little animal a scratch behind its ears. The piglet seemed to smile even brighter and Izuna chuckle.

“It’s so much like you to adopt a piglet.”

“Butako-chan.”, Hashirama grinned and kissed Izuna’s temple. “We can look for another home for her, if you really don’t want to have her. I know it is mean to bring her here and expect you to have  her around. It’s just… she was a present and I didn’t want to be rude and decline it. And I like her.”

“That’s a little bit late for an insight, big boy.”, Izuna sighed and watched Madapi raising from his lap. Her movements were far from as graceful as they used to be, as the cat was really, really pregnant. She stretched and sniffed the little pig curiously, before she started licking its head. Izuna sighed again. “Even you, Honey-Bunny? You like the piglet?”

The cat didn’t answer (even if Hashirama secretly expected her to do so sooner than later) instead proceeded to lick the piglet so fiercely, that Hashirama put the baby animal into Izuna’s lap. The cat seemed happy with that decision, as she told with her purr. Izuna shot Hashirama a judging look.

“Don’t you dare to push it to me, just because Madapi likes it! If we keep it is YOUR pig and YOUR responsibility. I have enough to do with our children and our Clan.”

“Oh, maybe Madapi-chan will raise Butako-chan and then she will be a catlet!”

Izuna just groaned at that, but he couldn't do very much, when his precious cat wrapped herself around the piglet on his lap and purred as if there was no tomorrow.

Hashirama lent himself against Izuna’s side and kissed his husband’s temple again, still silently chuckling over his own joke, and relaxed.

Life had turned out to be perfect.

Chapter Text

“He barely sleeps anymore.”, Hashirama said with worry in his voice and touched his temple with gentle fingertips. Hanako frowned thoughtfully, a deep furrow between her brows. Izuna grinned and tipped his index finger against that furrow.

“You look like your Dad when you do that. Only cuter.”

“Please, Oji-san. I am working.”

Izuna chuckled, because she also sounded like her father. With her twenty five years she had become a tall woman, towering over him like Tobirama did. Well, only that she wasn’t as intimidating to him as her father had been at that age. He had changed her diapers and he would use that against her until his last breath. So much was certain.

“Keep still, Oji-san. You are worse than any toddler I have to work with!”

“Oh, do I look so young? Thank you!”

“Grhm.”

Yep. Very lizard-ish. Even the grumbling was the same. But she was right, he could barely keep still. He felt tired to the bones, but also antsy and full of energy, as if his body couldn’t decide if he should just drop down out like a light or if he should do a little trip to Iwa and turn their army into crying toddlers from shame.

They weren’t at war with Iwa. Not officially. Not after they had defeated them nineteen years ago during events that kickstarted a quite unbelievable legacy. They also weren’t at war with any other nations. There had been attempts, there had been threats, but honestly, who would dare to attack Konoha, if there were still legends like Hashirama and Madara alive? They were older now, but still not to underestimate. And they had their heirs in their backs, together with a nine-tailed fox with mood-swings and bad breath.

But that didn’t mean that Izuna wasn’t at war with Iwa. He would never forgive them that they had attacked his home and almost killed the love of his life.

Not. Ever.

“What have you done right now, Oji-san?”, Hanako asked neutrally, but Hashirama immediately perked up like an alarm dog. He was cute in his worry. And annoying.

“Nothing. Thought about Iwa.”

“Still that old grudge, Pretty?”

“Hashirama. Dear. Just because YOU tend to forgive too easily doesn't mean I have to. By the way, I'm going to look for that Tsuchi-asshole's grave again when I get the chance. If I don't spit on it at least once in my life, I'll come back as a ghost and haunt Iwa forever!"

“That sounds kind of boring. Wouldn’t you rather want to spook in Konoha, so you could at least watch people you love?”

“You just have no concept of eternal grudge.”

“No, but you promised me eternity in the Pure Lands.”

“I can do both.”, Izuna grinned flippantly at his husband and reached out to pull that unbearable sweet man over for a quick peck.

“Please!”, Hanako groaned, “I am in midst of an examination! Can you stop flirting at least for five minutes?”

“Horny-old-man-problems, again, Hanapi?”, a deeper voice asked and Izuna reached out for his oldest niece who had just appeared in the doorframe. Nojiriko came over and brushed a quick kiss against his cheek. “Be nice, Oji-chan. You might even get a lollipop if you behave.”

“Ah lollipop? That changes everything. Why did nobody mention there are lollipops involved? I’ll be good!”, Izuna chirped innocently. Nojiriko snorted.

“You are unsufferable. – Anyways, can you make some time afterwards for me? Tomorrow, I have this damn meeting with the Clan Elders about laying electrical cables throughout the compound, and I need your old plans. It's hard to believe that we still have so many houses that aren't connected to the power grid!”

“Welcome to the reality of a soon-to-be Clan Head.”

“Ah… I wish Father hadn’t announced that he is going to step back as Clan Head this year.”

“You will be a fine Clan Head. And that he steps back doesn’t mean that Mito and he will let you down with all the duties. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s only… I met Elder Himeko yesterday and she asked me, when I will have my first heir! I am barely married!”

Izuna chuckled. “Oh, a classic. They had your Father with that questions when he had been like fifteen. If he had listened to the Elders, you would have now an army of siblings. We once calculated how many there would be if he had triplets every year.”

“Oh, please, spare me! I have enough siblings. They are driving me crazy already! Did you know that Nozomi-chan…”

“Whatever Nozomi-chan has done AGAIN, the gossip will have to wait, Noji.”, Hanako interrupted with a grumble and almost forcefully turned Izuna’s had to her. “Shut up, close your eyes, and keep still, Oji-san!”

Well. Izuna knew when he had to obey, so he did as he was told. Hanako’s soothing cool chakra flooded the area of his eyes and he felt the constant burn there ebb down. It felt like a cool gel on sunburn and was really relieving. Relaxation spread in his body.

He must have fallen asleep, because he came back to himself laying in Hashirama’s lap.

“It isn’t like the damage when he fries his own nerves with his Mangekyou Sharingan. It’s almost like… I don’t know…”

“There’s definitely a change of tissue. I have never felt something like that and I had a lot Uchiha under my fingers by now.”

Hashirama chuckled silently, Izuna felt the vibration of his body and smiled. He kept his eyes closed, because… actually, that was nice. He hadn’t felt so relaxed for weeks and maybe he could fall asleep again. He wouldn’t mind. He was in his home, surrounded by family. He could hear Nojiriko in another room talking, there was happy squealing and a boy’s laughter in the garden. It was just as it should be.

And really, he felt himself drift deeper.

Just a little nap. A…

… a badass porcelain-faced Madara not quite laughed but still had the aura of an insolent asshole. A mad insolent asshole.

“HASHIRAMA SENJU! What are you doing over there? Are you hiding?”, he hollered and the equally pale and cracked-faced Izuna next to him shifted his weight from one leg to the other. The Izuna-version gave the approaching Senju brothers a sassy grin and placed his sword over his shoulders like a yoke. He turned his hip like an impatient child.

“Hurry, hurry, To-bi-ra-ma!”, he singsong in a bratty voice and the little firefly, well aware that this was him and was not, buzzed closer. That Izuna’s eyeballs were black, the pupils were Sharingan, but they showed a strange pattern of a six-pointed star. The Madara’s eyes were colored in a pale lavender and thin spirals covered the whole eyeball; there was no defined pupil standing out.

The Madara grinned now while he stepped in front of Izuna and looked down the unnatural cliff they stood on. The firefly could see an open wooden coffin standing upright behind them and there was the corpse behind them. A boy who looked like an Uchiha but was nobody the firefly could recognize, stared with empty eye sockets up into the sky. There was still wet, dripping blood, so the eyes had been only taken shortly before. The firefly felt a surge of pity and hoped that the eyes had been taken after his death at least. Probably not. That was not how those things worked.

“SASUKEEEEEEE!”, the riled-up voice of another boy echoed over the area and suddenly he was there – a golden glowing boy with a chakra that shocked the firefly enough to buzz far away. The boy jumped in an attempt to attack the Madara, but the Madara turned swiftly. The Izuna was even swifter and within a blink the golden glowing boy had the Madara’s foot in his stomach and Izuna’s foot in his face. He tumbled like a piece of paper in the wind, helplessly crashing into the ground down the cliff. The Izuna snickered acidly and unsheathed his sword.

“I’ll take care of the vermin. Leave me some of Tobirama.”

“No promises there, little brother. I have a bill he has to pay.”

The Izuna snickered again and dropped himself down the cliff, ready to attack the golden glowing boy who crawled out of the impressive crater his fall had created.

The Madara snickered, too, and turned his face to the moon. A thick, fat red moon, already descending to end this all.

… Izuna woke with a stressed cry on his lips and sat up. He bumped his head against something hard, but then there were arms, strong and warm and familiar, and closed him into an embrace.

“It’s okay. Only another dream.”, Hashirama’s deep voice hummed into his ear and Izuna blinked rapidly to shake off the sleep. He felt spent and pained, as if somebody had killed and revived him without giving him back his chakra. And his eyes burned. They burned so much!

He groaned.

“Yes… another dream. This time… about Nii-san. But… he was crazy? And me… and that golden glowing boy with Kurama’s chakra again.”

“Are those dreams always the same?”, Hanako’s quiet voice chimed up and Izuna shook his head, carefully turning towards her. He felt dizzy. Sometimes, after one of those dreams, he felt so dizzy that he started to vomit.

“No. But sometimes the same people are on stage. The golden glowing boy is one of them. Often Nii-san, but… quite not Nii-san? He’s always… crazy. Sometimes Konoha, but Kurama attacks and destroys it and… is sealed in a baby? And very often that black-and-white plant-guy that feels like the slimy thing we extracted from Nii-san’s head.”

“Hm.”, Hanako made and her cool healing chakra reappeared at his temples, “Your chakra level dropped rapidly the moment you started dreaming. It's as if you had performed a jutsu. Your eyes and optic nerve are still saturated with chakra, but it has a different quality than in the rest of your body. Almost…”

She bit her lips and looked to Hashirama who still hovered protectively over Izuna. Usually Izuna didn’t like when Hashirama fuzzed too much over him, but after weeks and weeks of disturbing dreams and burning eyes  he felt quite vulnerable. Having Hashirama around made him feel save.

“… as you know I practiced my medical scanning jutsu a lot on Nojiriko and the twins.”, Hanako started carefully, “During that process I realized that the chakra quality in their eyes started to change gradually after a certain age. For Nojiriko it was about when she had been ten. One year later she was able to use her Sharingan for the first time. Nozomi’s and Akako’s levels started to change when they were nine, and Nozomi developed her Sharingan the same year and Akako had hers two years later.”

Izuna frowned. He caught the thought Hanako was implying, but…

“There’s nothing my Sharingan could develop into. I already have the Mangekyou.”

“That’s not true.”

“Nii-san!”, Izuna flinched away from his relaxed position against Hashirama’s chest and blinked confusedly into Madara’s direction. “When…?”

“While you were asleep.”, Madara grunted and crossed his arms, “You haven’t told me that it is so bad. You said you had a few nightmares and overused your eyes, not that you have those dreams every night!”

Izuna only sighed. There was nothing he could say in his defense. He hadn’t wanted to worry Madara. Even after almost thirty years their eyes were a sensitive issue between them, Madara had never really come to peace with the fact that he had let himself be talked into taking Izuna’s eyes. Izuna didn’t want to discuss AGAIN why he wouldn’t take them back.

“Anyways.”, oh, that was a new one. Madara letting go without roasting him about his secrecy? Probably to roast him later on little flame. “You should know the best that it is not true, that your eyes can’t evolve anymore. You are the one who loves those old legends the most, Izuna.”

“I can’t remember any legend about another Sharingan. There is the Sharingan and then there’s the Mangekyou Sharingan and then the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan. Period.”

“And then there are the eyes that started it all.”

Izuna looked into Madara’s serious face and shook his head. “Oh, come on, Nii-san. Do you want to turn me into a Sage now? HE is the bulls-eye-guy.”, he snorted and pointed his thumb back to Hashirama who coughed indignantly. Izuna just grinned, because Hashirama’s legendary Sage mode was a constant point to tease him about. But honestly, who grew a perfect circle right on his forehead without expecting to be teased about it? It would be ridiculous not to tease him about it!

But Madara didn’t laugh or grin. He only handed Izuna a scroll; it was a copy from the stone tablets at Nakano Shrine. Izuna knew those stones, he had read them with Madara together and he had listened to Madara reading them with his Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan. The copy was a passage only the Eternal Mangekyou could read.

“The Rinnegan? Really?”

“It’s an explanation. If we believe the legends that the Senju are descendants of Ootsustuki Ashura and the Uchiha descendants of Ootsutsuki Indra, you meet the conditions perfectly. You have activated your Sharingan in eyes grown from Senju Cells. It’s both brother’s blood mixed.”

“I still wonder how you managed to do that. It contradicts all the knowledge about stem cells and transplantation we currently have. And you didn't even know the word genetics back then!”, Hanako muttered in a rather pissed tone. She was just as excited about experiments as her father was, but while Tobirama had always developed jutsu for combat, her interest lay more in medic. Not that an expertly applied medical jutsu was less deadly. The girl had invented a jutsu that could completely stop the flow of chakra!

Izuna would rather not be her opponent. She would probably not just cut him in half, as her dear father had done, but simply dismantle him completely into his constituent parts.

“It was the magic of love.”, Hashirama whispered in a spooky voice.

Hanako snorted and rolled her eyes. She never had been fond of her uncle’s bedtime stories. Or any other story his goofy mind made up.

“What I said is… that you might develop the Rinnegan. You know the Elders say that the tablets were written by Indra himself. IF we believe that, your dreams could be not only dreams, but visions. You read the passage about the different perspectives and layers of reality. Maybe you activate some kind of pre-rinnegan in your sleep and actually see those layers of reality.”

“It would fit the drop of chakra levels and the reoccurring people.”, Hanako added, but she looked hesitant.

Izuna pressed his lips together; his mouth felt dry and he had a bitter taste on his tongue.

Different perspectives. Or the future? Anyways, nothing he had seen in his dreams so far had been pleasant. Only a lot of madness and violence under a dooming red moon.

He turned to Hashirama, but he found there only a serious, slightly worried face.

“If these are visions of something that actually happened or will happen… it sucks.”, he said and hid his face with a groan against Hashirama’s chest.

Chapter Text

Fugaku took his hat – exactly the one the legendary Shodaime Hokage Uchiha Madara had worn – and kept it in hand when he turned back to Minato. The Taiyō no Hokage grinned at him with his sunniest smile, giving naturally credit to his title. Fugaku returned a just-barely-not smile back; he wasn’t to smile, but Minato had inevitably wormed his way into his graces after the younger man had taken the hat from his processor Sandaime Sarutobi Hiruzen. They knew each other well these days. Sometimes Fugaku thought they knew each other better than their own wives did. They certainly spent a lot more time with each other in the Hokage Tower.

“I am off for now, you are good?”, Fugaku asked and Minato just smirked conspiratorially.

“You shouldn’t let Mikoto-san wait. Kushina-chan and me will see you tomorrow evening for the festival.”

“Don’t forget to wear something red, I won’t borrow you another happi.”, Fugaku just growled even if he knew that he would borrow him one if he needed to, “Your wife’s hair doesn’t count. And tell your brat that orange doesn’t count either.”

Minato groaned theatrically. “You do that on purpose to torture me. As far as I remembered many Uchiha wore orange last year.”

“They did, because it is a special color for them. Your son…”, Fugaku blew his breath out of his nose in his significant snort, “… on the other hand displays his bad fashion tastes with his choice of colors. So either he wears something appropriate in red or he’ll have to wait in front of the gates until I am too drunk to care anymore.”

Minato chuckled happily. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Kushina-chan was on gate-duties when your alcohol delivery arrived. There was plenty to get drunk on.”

Fugaku gave his fellow Hokage only an impassive glance before turning to leave. Only to be nearly knocked over by an orange-yellow flash that stormed into the Hokage's office.

“DAAA-HAAAA-AAAD!” the boy yelled at the top of his lungs and leapt onto the desk. Fukagu didn’t take the time to find out what Minato’s annoyingly noisy eldest son wanted but left the office as quickly as he could. This child was obviously his mother’s son, full of energy and probably incapable of keeping his mouth shut even if his life depended on it.

He had already had to deal with this brat far too often anyway. Unfortunately, despite their contrasting personalities, Mikoto and Kushina had formed a surprisingly close friendship after learning that their babies would be born shortly after each other. “Unfortunately” because it also meant that the two women had promptly placed their newborn sons into the same cradle and declared them brothers in spirit. In fact, the boys had hardly been separated for a day since then. They were even in the same genin team, although that had caused some discussion. Fugaku had been in favor of putting the two “inseparables” in different teams to encourage their independence. But the academy teachers, especially that pesky Umino, had been convinced that the two boys could only benefit from being in the same team. And now... Unluckily, little Uzumaki was the only one in this age group who could hold a candle to Sasuke.

So, it was no surprise for Fugaku to find his younger son waiting outside the office door. At least Sasuke had some manners.

“Good evening, Otō-sama!”, Sasuke hurried to greet him with a sloppy bow and then grinned cheekily, looking startling like Mikoto when she was up for some mischief. “I am back.”

Fugaku sniffled; not because he wasn't happy to see his son return from his first mission outside the village unharmed and apparently unscathed. Rather, because spending so much time with an Uzumaki and their sloppy jonin-sensei had influenced him enormously. In a way that he absolutely did not approve of.

“Welcome back.”, Fugaku said distantly, as he saw it not fit to express too many emotions in public; not that he was overly emotional at home. The old geezer could say what he wanted about that. ‘Fugaku, be a little more approachable. Fugaku, smile. Fugaku, you need to encourage your son.’, every family gathering the same droning. He was fed up of it. He was a man in his forties! He was the Indra-damn Hokage! He didn’t need grandfather Kagami telling him constantly how to handle his sons!

The mere thought of having to spend the whole day tomorrow under his grandfather's sharp eye made him twitchy. The old geezer just saw too much and never bothered to shut up.

“As I see you are fine, you can run over the Senju Compound and ask the branch-family if they need anything before they come over tomorrow morning.”

He inwardly flinched when Sasuke pulled a miffed face. Seriously! He would have a word with Hatake. The man might be a skillful soldier, especially for someone who had survived a transplanted Sharingan (According to Clan Head Togakushi it had been no thievery, but Fukagu was still one of the people who opted that Obito should take the eye back.) but his teaching about manners lacked obviously. Sasuke wouldn’t have dared to pull such a face in front of him a few years ago!

Well. It was probably not only Hatake’s fault but the fault of the gruesome monster called puberty, but it was easier to blame a living, breathing being than to blame a hormonal status.

“Nii-san said he’d go over later.”, Sasuke talked back and Fugaku had to remind himself that he had come over his temper issues a long time ago. Mostly. Maybe.

“WHEN did your brother say that? Last week?”

“An hour ago.”, Sasuke said and scrunched his nose as if he wanted to say that his father was stupid, “We met him at the hospital when we brought Kakashi-sensei there. Nii-san had his monthly check-up.”

Fugaku grunted. Okay, that was plausible, even if it reminded him of the devastating fact that his eldest son, once considered the clan's prodigy, was no longer in active service. It was a tragedy. Fugaku still asked the kami why his perfect older son had to have a lung disease that, while treatable, was incurable and made it impossible for him to endure any significant stress without endangering his life. Itachi himself, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content with his fate. He was currently preparing to become a teacher at the academy. A teacher. Of all things.

Of course, when Hanako-sama had made the final diagnosis and told him to pull his son off active duty, Fugaku had aimed to make Itachi his personal assistant. Being the Hokage's assistant was a prestigious position, and Fugaku could at least be sure that everything would be done perfectly. Nevertheless, Itachi had insisted on becoming a teacher and seemed to be looking forward to teaching a bunch of cheeky brats. Perhaps that was Umino's influence. This unlikely friendship between a brash chūnin and his brilliant son was still a thorn in Fugaku's side. And all because Sasuke and Naruto had dragged Itachi to Ichiraku’s.

“Then you’ll go over to the Clan Head’s house and offer your help there.”

“But Naruto and I…”

“Sasuke.”, Fugaku spoke like thunder and it was oddly satisfying that Sasuke finally ducked his head. At least he had still some respect. “This is the evening before Great Amaterasu’s Midsummer. You’re going to help your family with the preparations and survive it without your bosom buddy!”

Sasuke opened his mouth, but Fugaku made a stopping gesture.

“And if he breaks into our house again in the middle of the night and wakes up the whole house, I'll ban him from the house for life and personally get the barriers to lock him out!.”, he threatened and almost reconsidered his opinion about his own temper, when Sasuke made a pouting “Tsk.”. Sometimes he wondered if it had been a mistake to give in to Mikoto's request to raise Sasuke without physical punishment. In his opinion, a little slap on the butt had never ruined anyone. And it certainly ensured the necessary degree of obedience.

“Fine. I’ll go. At least I can play with Maddy-chan then.”

Fugaku allowed himself the luxury of moaning loudly. “Don’t call him that.”

“Why not? Even O-sensei calls him like that!”

“But you are not O-sensei but Uchiha Sasuke who will earn himself a lot of trouble if he doesn’t show a little more respect to his father and his future Clan Head!”

“Fine.”, Sasuke said as bratty as he could and held himself back from blowing a raspberry to his father. Not because he felt like being respectful to his old man. More because he knew that he would be in real trouble if he did. His old man was obviously in one of his moods again and he would manage to make him suffer even during the festival. And Sasuke loved Great Amaterasu’s Midsummer Festival. Especially this year was very important to him. He was now a genin, and everybody of the rank of a genin was considered old enough to taste a tiny pint of the special shōchū the Uchiha distilled for that occasion. He wouldn’t let his father ruin that!

With a sigh he run off; he’d later send over his cat summon to tell Naruto where they would meet.

He wasn’t really motivated to do any preparations for the festival, so he took the scenic route over the roofs. He still reached the ancient Uchiha Compound within less than a minute. With a broad grin he gave the old lady from the bakery a big wave and trotted down the road to the Clan Head’s house. It was the oldest building in the compound. O-sensei often said that it was the very same house the great Uchiha Madara had built for himself and his family. O-sensei also claimed that Senju Hashirama had helped to make it indestructible with his legendary mokuton. Sasuke tended to believe both. O-sensei was a sneaky old bastard and staggered as much as he pleased, but he usually was honest about the two Shodaime Hokage.

And well. The Clan Head’s house WAS ancient and he had never seen someone doing any reparation works on it. So the part with Senju Hashirama had to be true. Probably.

Sasuke knocked on the door and was welcomed in by the current Clan Head’s wife. She was a friendly woman with a sharp grin, and currently very pregnant with her second child. Sasuke bowed politely (She was far nicer than his old man and therefore deserved respect; well, and because she was Togakushi’s wife, of course. He had some manners.). “Hi! My father sent me to he-UGH!!”, Sasuke yelped helplessly, when a little black flash tackled him halfway down the porch. He barely managed to use his chakra to glue himself onto the porch.

“Sas’eee!!!”, the boy squealed happily and wrapped his chubby arms around Sasuke’s legs. Big black eyes looked at him expectantly and Sasuke chuckled, while he picked up the surprisingly heavy toddler.

“Maddy-chan, did you become stronger again? You nearly threw me off the porch!”, Sasuke complained and squeezed the little boy firmly. His little Clan-Head-to-be squealed in delight. They were kind of friends, if somebody could be friends with an almost-three-year-old. Sasuke had had had the honor to babysit his tiny future Clan Head a lot before he had become genin and they had bonded with each other. It was almost like having a little brother.

Maddy threw his arms around his neck and graced him with a wet toddler kiss. “Th’ow Shuken!”, he said firmly and gave Sasuke stern eyes.

“You want me to throw shuriken for you? How about you let me go in first and ask your Mommy if she needs help?”

“Shuken.”, Maddy insisted and his mother laughed.

“He missed you really a lot. He asked every day for his favorite babysitter.”, she said warmly and made room for him to carry the toddler back into the house. “Madara-kun doesn’t like the idea that you are a genin now.”

“Bah.”, Maddy said with a dark face and wiggled until Sasuke let him down. Impatiently the boy pulled on his hand. “Sas’e, come!”

The boy’s mother laughed again. “Just go with him. You help us the most if you keep him occupied. We are preparing the manju for tomorrow and he has already spent all of his patience on two pieces of them. … And… welcome back from our first mission outside of the village, Sasuke-kun. The Clan is very proud of you.”, she said and Sasuke felt his face glow. Praise was very precious to him and when it came from someone of the Clan Head’s family, it was not to top.

Well. Maybe if father would praise him and finally acknowledge that he wasn’t Itachi, it might be better. But if that happened, it would also snow in summer, so he didn't have overly high expectations. So he was good on his own so far. And one couldn’t have it all. At least that was what Naruto had said lately. Naruto could be quite wise if he wanted to.

Of course Sasuke would never admit that. Not even under torture.

“Sas’e!”, Maddy said with an angry voice and pulled again.

“Yeah, yeah, I am coming. Just let me put off my shoes and say hello to everyone, okay?”

Maddy sighed like an old man and only hesitantly took his mother’s hand after she promised he could make sweet lemonade for himself and Sasuke, if he came with her.

“Mama, wiff sugaw?”

“A little bit sugar. But the oranges are so sweet anyways, you won’t miss the sugar, love.”, she promised and disappeared with the little boy in the kitchen.

Sasuke exchanged his outdoor shoes with indoor shoes and pawed over to the living room where he could hear a lot of women talking. He recognized a few voices, like the one of Itachi’s girlfriend or Maddy’s grandma or Kakyū, O-sensei’s granddaughter.

“Hi everybody.”, Sasuke said with a polite bow when he entered the room. To his surprise there were not only the women, but also his older brother and O-sensei himself. “You were fast, Nii-san!”, said Sasuke, full of admiration. Then he blushed, because of course Itachi was fast. Even when he played the caretaker for a living mummy like O-sensei.

O-sensei was nearly a hundred years old, a scrawny figure with long, knotty fingers that shook a lot. He was frail and pale, and long white hair like silk spilled in an impressive long ponytail over his slightly bent back. He was a bit slow and strange, like all really old people tended to be, but Sasuke actually liked him. Mostly because he had a certain sense of mischief and he never underestimated anybody. And maybe, because Sasuke’s own great-grandfather always told him those fancy stories about O-sensei’s youth.

Once he had been one of the greatest warriors the Uchiha Clan and Konoha, great-grandfather Kagami used to say. Almost as strong as the two Shodaime Hokage, but a fast and graceful warrior.

“As fast as the Yellow Flash?”, Sasuke had asked once and great-grandfather Kagami had laughed.

“Faster. Way, way faster. He didn’t need sensei’s fancy Hiraishin to be fast, like Minato-san does. He just… ran. Sometimes it was almost as if his feet didn’t touch the ground.

Sasuke hadn’t really believed that. Naruto’s dad was the fastest man in Konoha and O-sensei should have been faster? That was not possible.

But then, he had heard others talking about him. There were many stories about the legendary Uchiha Madara, founder and first Hokage of Konoha alongside the famous Senju Hashirama. But there were just as many stories about Uchiha Izuna, the younger brother. The man who had been cut in half by the Nidaime Senju Tobirama and survived. The man who had almost killed the first Tsuchikage with his invincible diamond skin single handedly – that Tsuchikage, who had been taken down by a whole army of Kiri in a famous battle later. The man who had protected the village countless time und made friends within every clan.

Well. O-sensei HAD friends in every clan, so much was true. Thanks to his father’s wishes Sasuke had earned the doubtful honor of accompanying O-sensei on one of his strolls through the village often enough to know that for sure. They barely could walk a few steps without other old geezers greeting him and staying for a talk. They often invited them in for tea or a snack. Even the Hyūga seemed to like him, although Hyūga and Uchiha normally repelled each other like two opposite poles.

Also the rumor of the “cut in half” thing seemed to be true. Sasuke had seen the scar when he had brought Maddy to his great-great-granduncle to join him in one of the onsen. O-sensei was ridiculously fond of the little boy and turned almost in a boy himself, when he chased the tiny toddler through the water. Welp. A very scrawny, wrinkly boy. Sasuke usually avoided looking at other men in the onsen, but this time he hadn’t been able contain his curiosity. The long scar from O-sensei’s bellybutton to his spine looked nasty.

And then there were the old man’s eyes.

Those eyes were creepy and nobody else had eyes like that. They were of a lavender purple, with concentric circles. Rinnegan, they called it, and it was said that these were the same eyes the Sage once had.

Obviously, that was crap, there had never been a Sage. That was only a fairy tale. But well. The eyes were there and they were creepy.

“Sasuke-kun.”, the old man said now and carefully folded the edges of a manju. It was done perfectly. “How was your first mission outside of Konoha? I heard you made some nice blows?”

Of course O-sensei had heard about it. He had his ears everywhere – or at least his summon Binchōtan had them everywhere. Binchōtan was a pain in the ass, harder to bribe than Naruto and only loyal to O-sensei.

“Ah, nothing too well.”, Sasuke answered, trying to be humble. “It has been an easy mission and when it became really serious sensei ordered us to stay back.” He puffed a huff, “Of course I totally could have done more, but you have to obey your superior, don’t you? And someone had to protect Sakura-chan.”

“The Haruno girl, if I remember right. Her chakra reminds me of Hanako-chan.”

Hanako-chan. Really. It was odd to hear O-sensei talking about the stern Medical Director as if she was a little girl. But well, in comparison to O-sensei even old medical hags were little girls. Probably.

“She was hurt.”, Sasuke offered as explanation for him staying behind and let Kakashi take over the fight. Honestly, he had been quite frightened when the enemy nin had come out of their hiding. One of them had attacked Kakashi directly, while the other one had aimed at the genin. They had done what they could, but then Sakura had taken a really deep stab wound in a false attempt to protect clumsy Naruto from harm. Stupid girls, always so eager to bring themselves in danger! In return, Naruto had called upon Kurama’s chakra and fought the enemy with claws and teeth. Sasuke had taken over to carry Sakura out of the danger zone, so that Naruto wouldn’t hurt her by accident.

Sometimes, Sasuke thought, his life seriously sucked. Between his prodigy brother and the boy the legendary Ninetails personally had chosen to be his partner, there wasn’t a lot of room to shine for himself.

“It is always important to keep your friends safe.”, O-sensei confirmed and Sasuke felt a warm shower of relief wash through his body. Now he could say O-sensei had approved his way of action, if father said something about it. Father might be Hokage, but Sasuke knew that he respected O-sensei’s opinion just as much as everybody did.

The old man was a fucking legend. Rumors said that he once even wrangled down Senju Hashirama himself. Apparently, the only person living who had ever achieved that. But that were only tales whispered in the dark. And well, wrangling down your own husband wasn’t so much of an achievement anyways, was it?

Sasuke grinned. Yeah. Winning over one’s husband was just as lame as winning over one’s best friend. You knew too much about them to make it really count.

“Kakashi-sensei said that, too. Never leave a friend behind.”, Sasuke said proudly and scurried over to O-sensei, when the old man gave him a sign. The old man smelled like a field of flowers, what surprised Sasuke every time he could smell it. Usually old men smelled like old men.

“Your sensei is a wise man, listen to him.”, O-sensei confirmed and brushed his knuckles under Sasuke’s chin to make him look into his eyes. The light purple eyes with the circles bore deeply into him and Sasuke felt as if this old man could look into his soul. A tangible flare of chakra gave him goosebumps.

He suddenly realized that the whole kitchen had become quiet.

Sasuke squirmed a little bit but he didn’t dare to escape the old man’s touch. He had no idea what O-sensei was looking for, but he felt that it was important. Very, life-changing important.

“I want you to do the part of Indra this year, Sasuke-kun. You never danced before, so you’ll better start practicing now.”, Izuna said and watched the boy’s eyes widen. He smiled at him. Sasuke had grown into a fine boy, with a kind heart and a hidden strength matching his inheritance. This new Indra was everything he had hoped for after Madara had passed away.

Madara… he had been the first one to pass away and it had been far too sudden for everyone. The never learned if it had been poisoning or a sickness, but one day he had been fine, the next he had been gone.

Izuna was convinced that he wouldn’t have survived that hit without Hashirama. But Hashirama had been his anchor and he had been able to go on. Yet, it still hurt. Every fucking day in his far too long life he missed his older brother so badly, he sometimes didn’t know why he still bothered to breathe.

Unfortunately they hadn’t been able to do the same for Mito. She had followed Madara only a few years later. She never had overcome her husband’s death and withered quietly away. Not even her children and grandchildren could help her.

Tobirama had been next, unsurprisingly he had found his end on a battlefield. Everybody had told him to take it easy. He had been far over sixty and nobody had expected him to go out there and fight like he was twenty again. Yet, stubborn mule as he had been, he went out and never came back.

Hashirama had been devastated and this time Izuna had been the one who had to be strong.

And then Hashirama had been eaten up by his mokuton. They had seen it coming for years. The kekkai genkai had grown stronger with each passing year, but Hashirama had aged, nonetheless. Slower, more graceful than others (The old bastard had never even had more than gray temples.), but he had not been a young man. And at some point, his body hadn’t been able to contain all the chakra and nature’s energy anymore. They had retreated into the woods and used a few last wonderful, magical days to bid each other farewell. And then Hashirama had done what had to be done and now he was caring for his beloved village and their descendants on a plain nobody really understood.

They called this special part of the forest the “Forest of Death”, but in truth it was a “Forest of Life”, trees tall and dense like nowhere else, everything bursting with so much life and energy that even the insects became giants. And Izuna could still see his husband in everything there. His Rinnegan saw the truth of the forest, ready to watch over anyone who entered it in need and humility. His beloved husband was in every leaf, every branch, every living thing, from the tallest to the smallest.

Hashirama was still there and would be there forever.

Izuna quickly averted his thoughts from these memories. It hurt a lot and even surrounded by his grandchildren and greatgrandchildren, Madara’s and Mito’s descendants, Hikaku’s descendants, Tobirama’s descendants, he felt lonely.

It was ironic. The Rinnegan had shown him that this was the only life he had not only survived his twenty-fourths year but also had accepted Hashirama’s heart. In a multitude of universes, the one and only. And now he sat here and was the last one living, with a legendary lifespan of ninety-seven years. (There was also one very confusing reality where he was a woman and married to Tobirama, and wasn’t that disturbing as hell?)

“Isn’t he a little bit young, Ojii-chan?”, Matako said. His youngest granddaughter, one of many, sent him a soft smile and tilted her head with that special, lenient look she gave him for a few years now. The one that said, “I am sorry, grampa, but you became weird and if I don’t say something nobody will.”. And well, maybe he was weird. Being weird was the luxury of the old ones and he was currently the oldest man in Konoha. But he was still sane in his head, even if he wasn’t too up to date anymore when it came to movies or that newfangled noise they called music these days.

“He is young, indeed.”, Izuna said and smiled at Sasuke with an encouraging wink, “But he looks very capable for me. And who knows. This year might be the last year I am the patron of Konoha’s Founding Festival. I want to see our young Indra here.”

He saw young Sasuke push out his chest proudly and marveled for a moment at the broad grin that reminded him of a young Kagami. Sasuke and his brother took after Mikoto very much, even though some claimed that Sasuke had a lot of the younger Izuna in him. Izuna didn't see much more than the typical resemblance between most Uchiha. But his Rinnegan recognized the pattern in Sasuke's chakra, which was painfully clearly that of Indra and thus also that of Madara.

He had almost broken down, when Kagami had introduced him to his youngest great-grandson, and he had felt the familiarity.

And well, there was also the new Ashura.

Those two boys were nothing like Madara and Hashirama, of course not. And yet... for someone who had known Madara and Hashirama so well, and who had also had the dubious honor of knowing Indra, there were certain characteristics that they all shared. So, they were the ones who carried the legacy of Indra and Ashura through the world, and with that, also a bit of Madara and Hashirama.

And for that, Izuna appreciated their mothers’ idea to raise them like brothers, a lot.

“I’ll give my best, O-sensei!”, Sasuke promised very seriously and Izuna tousled his hair.

“I know you will.”, he said and smirked, “And I’ll make sure Naruto-kun does, too.”

“Naruto-kun?”, Maddy’s mother asked, two glasses of lemonade in her hands, baby in belly, and her pretty little boy clutching to her apron.

“Oh yes, he will be a fine Ashura this year.”, Izuna confirmed and reached out towards the pouting toddler on her side, “Maddy-chan, what’s the matter. Come to Jiji, honey-bunny.”

His brother’s great-great-grandson (Izuna’s favorite so far. Not because of the name, but because the little dimple was back. Little Maddy grinned just as adorably as his forefather.) pulled a face and toddled over to climb into Izuna’s lap. Izuna was very proud that he had managed to be the best uncle not only to Madara’s children but also to every other generation.

“No sugaw.”, the baby-boy complained and reached for the long white bangs framing Izuna’s face.

“No sugar? In the lemonade?”, Izuna asked and sent Maddy’s mother a little grin. Every generation related to his brother by blood was an iconic sweet tooth. They were also undeniable strong, so maybe the genes for strength were handed down with the genes for a fondness for sweets. At least in Madara’s blood line.

“No sugaw in lemo.”, little Madara confirmed with a depressed sigh.

“There is sugar in the lemonade, honey. You saw it yourself, a whole spoon full.”, his mother smiled and handed one glass to Sasuke. “That is more than enough, sweetie.”

Maddy gave her a pouting look and then tilted his head to eye Izuna with a knowing smirk. Izuna looked back with the same knowing smirk and grinned even broader when he felt a sneaky little hand in the inside pocket of his oversized Haori. The sneaky little hand found what it always found there and what many little hands of nieces and nephews had found before him: A bonbon.

The skillful little devil was smart enough to hide his prize in his pants but snickered not so sneakily.

Izuna gave his mother a soft look, but she only smiled. Every mother in his brother’s family knew that Uncle Izuna (or O-Sensei as they had started to call him about twenty years ago) had always sweets in his pockets. Izuna made sure they always knew how much their children had looted so they could adjust the rest of their sugar intake. It was a working system for well for over seventy years now and all of his nieces, nephews and grandchildren were healthy and fine.

Maddy (Oh, how hilarious Izuna found that modern nickname. Nobody would have ever dared to call his brother something like that.) hopped from his lap in a much better mood and grabbed Sasuke’s hand to drag him and the lemonade outside. Probably to try out things he was considered too young to learn.

Izuna wondered what Tajima or Butsuma would think if they knew that a hundred years after them, little two-year-olds were expected to do nothing more than play. Well, of course in Clan Families many of the games included beneficial exercises for their way of ninja. But they were games, not the harsh training he had survived himself.

And he was more than happy about it. The idea to the village, the spark to its founding, had been Madara’s and Hashirama’s urge to keep the children safe.

The day Minato and Fugaku and their council of elders had enacted the law that no one under the age of twelve would be allowed to take the genin exam, regardless their skills, and that the minimum age for chunin was sixteen had been the crown to a long way. It had been the best outcome Madara and Hashirama would ever have dreamed about, and Izuna had taken a very long walk in the Forest of Death and told Hashirama about it.

He could swear that the trees there had never smelled sweeter.

“Drifting away again, O-sensei?”, another soft voice said and Izuna realized, that he had been so deeply in his thoughts that he didn’t hear two more visitors come in. Izuna smiled broadly when he realized who it was.

“Shisucchi. What a very nice surprise!”, he greeted the young man he loved like his own grandchild. Little Shisui had been orphaned early in his young life, but of course as Kagami’s youngest great-nephew he hadn’t been without family. But he had a hard time to connect with his new adoptive family and so he hid a lot in the Forest of Death. Izuna had found him on one of his walks there, carefully cradled by some oddly shaped branches that formed something like a protective shell around him. From that on it had been an easy decision to give that boy, accepted and blessed by the forest, some extra attention. And over the time Izuna realized that Shisui brought the speed and the nimbleness that were required for his own signature techniques. So he taught him everything he knew, even his secret techniques.

Shisui turned out to be a marvelous young man. Bright, talented, and oh so fast. The people called him “Shunshin no Shisui” for his favorite technique and he was certainly one of the most outstanding young shinobi the Uchiha had brought forth. But he was also a little shy when it came down to it, and always tended to stubbornly tackle his problems, even when they were far too big for him to handle alone. Izuna hoped that he would eventually overcome this unhealthy habit.

And for the shyness…. Well, there he could help with a little meddling.

He smiled happily, when the young man kissed his cheek in a rare display of familiarity and affection. “Did you miss me, O-sensei?”, his student chuckled and Izuna smiled cockily at him.

“I guess I did. A little bit. Especially when Itama-kun came over and wanted to try out that screeching internal-net-thingy you left in my house. Unfortunately we couldn’t make it work at all. Poor boy was so disappointed.”

“O-sensei!”, Shisui sighed in his most exasperated way, “I told you just to klick on the connection button and open the browser. Did you delete the settings again?”

“It just feels not safe. That one field says: “secret code”. What’s the use of a secret code if you just keep it in the field?”, Izuna explained dryly. What he didn’t tell Shisui was that he was perfectly capable of typing in the required information into the dialup-settings. If he wanted to. Instead he said, “I told Itama-kun to come over again when you are back from your mission, so you can show him personally. He seemed to be quite happy about that idea.”

He suppressed a grin when Shisui’s features lightened up. Yeah, he knew exactly what was going on. And he could totally get it. Itama-kun, Tobirama’s great-grandson, was a kind young man and after the awkward teenage phase with big ears and too long limbs he had grown into a typical handsome Senju with broad shoulders and strong arms. He even had some features that reminded startling on Hashirama and that made Izuna’s heart ache every time the boy came over to see after him. Or to borrow the latest technological gimmicks, as Izuna had never lost his curiosity about the things the civilians invented. – Oh, he still remembered the day he had managed to convince the Elders of installing electricity in the village! And now they were having internet!

“Maybe… I should go over and say hello and tell him that we could do that the day after tomorrow.”, Shisui muttered. Izuna didn’t even bother to hide his grin.

“You definitively should. And maybe you could invite him as YOUR guest for tomorrow evening. I mean... there's no better opportunity to discreetly grope those pretty arm muscles than a little dance around the fire. Right??”

It was almost cute how fast a young man could turn into a tomato.

“O-SENSEI! I wouldn’t… We aren’t…. You…. What are you thinking?!?”

“I think a little fumbling around can never hurt. Unless your name is Kagami.”, he grinned at the embarrassed young man, “At least that was the case when I was young. But maybe I'm slowly becoming senile after all.”

“You are insufferable.”, Shisui almost whimpered and gone he was. Instead Kagami’s grey shag of hair appeared next to Izuna.

“You are really insufferable, Nii-san.”, Kagami said and took a seat, “Are you working on a new profession as a matchmaker?”

“New? I set half of my and your kids up with their spouses.”, Izuna lied, “I even tried to help you, but you were just hopeless. You remember when you had this crush on that one girl from the Nohara Clan? You were like… eleven? And suddenly you couldn’t even walk straight anymore!”

“I was just drunk from love!”

“You were clumsy and fell into a dumpster.”

On Izuna’s other side Itachi snickered quietly and exchanged a knowing look with his girlfriend. Well, obviously they shared their own funny stories.

“Or the one time you fell for that Inuzuka girl that was ten years older than you? Suddenly you wanted to have a dog.”

“Aren’t you afraid of dogs, Oji-chan?”, Itachi asked with a soft smile and Kagami rolled his eyes.

“Don't be cheeky, kid. And you stop spilling the beans, Nii-san. Or else I’ll remember the one week when a certain Uzumaki Nami paid his sister a visit.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, brat.”

“You were so jealous you were literally green.”

“I still don’t remember.”

“You suddenly were unable to bind your kimono right. Everything you wore suddenly revealed half of your meager chest.”

“Kagami, if you make me remember, you’ll bitterly regret that.”

“Oh come on. You can’t be jealous anymore. You were married to Hashirama-san. He didn’t even look at Nami-san.”

“That Nami-fuck was a persona non grata. The audacity to come to my village after…”

“You were just jealous because he looked so similar to you. Except of the red hair, of course.”

“He didn’t.”

“He did. I saw him.”, Kagami snickered and burst out in loud laughter, when the older man just folded his hands into his sleeves and looked pouty down his nose. Izuna had never really changed, at least not as far as Kagami could remember. His jealousy, even if uncalled for as everybody knew about his husbands fidelity, was just as legendary as his love.

Sometimes Kagami wondered, how the world would look like, when Izuna hadn’t lived. He remembered that question asked by his father back then, about seventy years ago. Hikaku had been slightly skilled of foreboding and he had never talked well of a potential future without Izuna and Madara together in the village.

Kagami had no talent for foreboding. Still, he knew that the world would have made a bad turn when Izuna hadn’t survived. He had only been five years old back then, when Madara had returned from the battlefield alone, Izuna hanging limply on his shoulder. Kagami had never forgotten the short glimpse he had caught of Madara’s face back then. The panic and the pain there had been so intense that Kagami had had nightmares for weeks afterwards.

Hikaku used to say that Madara would have turned mad if he had lost Izuna, and Kagami knew that he was right. And even if he hadn’t, the world wouldn’t be like it was now. Alone half of the people currently present wouldn’t exist. Most of them were descendants of a marriage between Uchiha Madara and Uzumaki Mito. Mito would probably have married Hashirama if he hadn’t fallen in love with Izuna.

Same sex marriage wouldn’t be so established, too. Kagami still remembered the stupid faces of the council, when one day Hashirama had just tossed his hat aside after bullying them into signing off a decree that declared same sex marriage not only legal but equal to heterosexual marriages. He had grinned like a freed man and grabbed with a booming “Finally!” for Izuna to kiss him. Izuna had lent back in his chair, council robe impressive as always, and slapped his flat hand against Hashirama’s forehead. While the two of them had engaged in a loud discussion if public kissing was now a thing or not, Madara informed dryly the gawking Elders that  “Yeah, they are married. You didn’t realize it?”. Tobirama just muttered irritably, “the vote was clear, even if you count their voices as biased” to a whiny Shimura-Elder.

Somehow, back then council meetings had been much more fun than to his and Saru’s time as Hokage. Mentioning that old fucker… he had to chick if he hadn’t accidentally died reading the latest volume of Icha Icha series. For being such a prude during their teenage-days, Saru had become a serious perv. Maybe that was Jiraiya’s fault. … Or Saru had always been a perv in the closet and he had inspired Jiraiya to his works?

Anyways. Kagami needed to remember complimenting his best friend’s student to his latest work, even if he doubted that half of the smutty scenes were physically possible.

“Just throw him into the pond. That usually does the job.”, Izuna’s dry voice shook him out of his thoughts and Kagami gave his brother-by-name a nasty glance.

“I can hear you, old fart.”

“I am not too old to remember how you splashed into exactly the same pond little Maddy-chan tries to drown in on daily basis.”

“I was five!”

“And you had a ridiculous affinity to that pond.”

“You made me train on it!”

Izuna snickered loudly, and Kagami couldn’t hold himself back. He smiled at him fondly, considering if he had it still in himself to throw good old Izuna in said pond. It would just be in good memory of the first Madara, wouldn’t it?