Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Ah, look at you."

Izuna holds still as broad palms cup his cheeks, fingers dancing over his face in a pattern that every Uchiha knows. They are all trained in how to function when blind, a necessity in a world where each and every one of their enemies knows their dōjutsu as both the weakness and the strength that it is, and he's felt the touch of more than one elder as they see in a new way.

But not like this.

Because this is not some one who was blinded by an enemy, an eye thief - this is his father.

Whose eyes are in Izuna's face.

Right now.

"There's no need for sadness," a thumb brushes under his eye, rough callouses from a lifetime lived by the blade catching the tears he can't help but shed. "I'm here with you now, am I not?"

"You are." Izuna leans forward into the strong arms that have always caught him, carried him. Until that one last time, when he had to do the carrying. "We've missed you so much, otousan."

"I know you have, my sons." Fingers comb through his hair and Izuna breathes deeply of the scent their father always carried. Steel and sword oil, yes, they're there... but also the faintest hint of ash and incense, reminding him of the crossing which had to be made for them to be together like this. "I've been watching you for the last three days, I've seen it."

"And?" Izuna lifts his head, staring into his father's sightless eyes. "What do you think?"

"I think that I'm proud beyond reckoning." And yes, that's the smile Izuna remembers from the day nii-san first gained the sharingan, the day he himself first saw the world washed in blood and fire. "You've both grown past me, exactly the way I hoped you would."

"The information left by our ancestors is true. Your eyes... I can use them." Izuna leaves unspoken the way otousan never managed as much, limited by the pressures of the war, yes, but also by the degeneration of his eyes. "I've done the same as you used to, both when negotiating contracts and practising with us, but more often."

"And there's no pain? No headaches?" Otousan presses against his temples gently, clearly trying to gain a sense of how the transfer has gone. "They haven't harmed you?"

"Not even when I first manifested the Susanoo," Izuna confirms with a nod. "Not for me. But nii-san..."

"His eyes hurt him." Their father frowns, clearly unhappy with this news. "If there was a way..."

"There is." Izuna takes a deep breath, bracing himself. "Nii-san's way."

"Izuna." And there, the unhappiness is deepening. "You know we can't - "

"Otousan, please." He places his hands over his father's, holding them to his face. "The clan as two Mangekyō now, they believe in us, in our ability to overmaster the Senju... but nii-san's eyes cannot do this for long."

He searches his father's expression for anger or disapproval but find none, only worry.

"With every battle, with every use, with every moment he stands against the mokuton... nii-san's eyes are dying." The horror of it fills his voice, and Izuna knows their father can hear it. "If I show Tobirama what I can do, if I trap the White Demon in a genjutsu, prove he has to submit to my will..."

"You would, what, talk him into a peace treaty?" Otousan sounds dubious about the prospect and Izuna doesn't blame him.

"It's either that or kidnap him." Izuna smirks to himself at the crack of laughter that gets. "I don't mind which, since both will achieve nii-san's goals."

"And you are always so goal focused, hm?" Otousan leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead. "Yes, do it."

"Really?" Izuna can't help asking. He'd never expected their father to give his blessing to this, a plan that can only be called the last gasp of desperation.

"I'm an old man, and dead besides." The dream begins to fade and Izuna grasps for it, knowing the futility of the effort but unable to stop. Otousan's voice is faint, but, somehow, Izuna can hear the resigned amusement in it. "The world is for the living."

"So live."