I do not own Naruto, and all credit for characters goes to the author Masashi Kishimoto. Please support the official release.
A/N: I've taken the Naruto world and gave it a nice spin, inspired by the A Song of Ice and Fire series by George R.R. Martin. Drop a review if you like it, or if you hate it :)
A call to arms by my brother, and the clans of this country came flocking like sheep to the slaughter. He calls for war, a war for land and a war for control. Hashirama has broken every belief that our ancestors prided themselves on, for what he calls 'the greater good'. He finds value in useless things, and claims to be the Leader we need… the Leader this country needs… But who are we to take the reins?
Hashirama is moving too fast for his own good, and for all his strengths, understanding when to back down is not one of them. "We are entering a new age," he tells me constantly. What was so wrong with the age we were in? We are not common men, we are not settlers, or farmers, or shepherds… we are shinobi. I am beside myself, truly. These people are making Hashirama out to be some God; some even call him the Sage Reborn. How merrily he pulls the strings of his puppets amuses me… to the point where I wonder if I would do the same if I had been born first.
- Tobirama Senju
"We are entering a new age, brother," Hashirama slid on his breastplate and secured his shoulder guards. Candles burned in every corner of the room, bathing Hashirama in an orange light that made his tan skin look like glistening copper. He stood a head taller than Tobirama, and looked thick as an ox in his armor. "By dawn, we may see an end to this war. To every war, for some time at least."
Tobirama shifted uncomfortably, his arms crossed in front of his chest, and his eyes drawn to the candle's flames. The wisps of fire licked at the air, leaving the scent of autumn to linger in the tent. "You're overconfident."
Hashirama secured the bronze colored steel around his waist and turned to his brother, meeting him with those big black eyes. Hashirama was the type of man whose emotions were very easily readable. His eyes were like a book into his mind, and Tobirama could see plainly that frustration was bubbling beneath his brother's skin. For the last few months, Tobirama had been speaking out against Hashirama's claims to end this war, and overtime even Hashirama was growing tired of his pessimism. "And why shouldn't I be? Do you see the power we have backing us? And that doesn't even include our own people…" Hashirama pressed a hand against the table; a map was unrolled across its surface and covered in lines and x's. "The Nara, the Aburame, the Yamanaka… they all have joined our cause, brother."
"And the Uchiha have the Mountain clans. There lies two forces that have been nothing but trouble in the past. To this day, we have found no common ground with these Mountain dwelling cretins. Save the Sarutobi…" Tobirama had forgotten about them. The Sarutobi made their claim as supporters and friends to the Senju before any other. They were of the Mountain clans, and possibly the strongest of them. Tobirama doubted them at first, but even he had grown to accept the Sarutobi as brethren. "How many men we have means nothing when we face such dangerous warriors."
Hashirama dug into the map, crumbling the paper in his hand. "You are my brother, Tobirama. Why do you not support me, why do you not support your own people?" Tobirama could read his brothers eyes again, he saw denial and confusion.
Tobirama unfolded himself and took a step towards his brother, placing a hand on Hashirama's shoulder guard. "What if we lose, Hashirama?" All of his fears and all of his complaints led to this. What if the Senju and all of their allies were not strong enough to defeat the Uchiha and their allies? The Senju were diverse and cunning, but the Uchiha boasted something that very few Senju had; raw, uncontrollable, and demonic powers. No matter how many Uchiha Tobirama had slain throughout his life, he still feared them. When Tobirama looked into his brother's eyes, he saw emotion, and he saw life. When you look into the eyes of an Uchiha, all you see is darkness.
"I've asked myself that question a hundred times over," Hashirama said.
"And?"
"We can't lose…" Hashirama pulled away from his brother's grip and made for the flap of their tent. When he peeled back the leather doorway, a gust of wind swept into the tent and swatted around the candle's flames. Tobirama eyed the small bundles of fire, so weak against the breath of wind from outside, yet they refused to burn out. The Uchiha were like the flame; no matter how hard you strike them down, they refuse to burn out. They're demons in Human skin, and no amount of unity could stop them. But Hashirama had left before Tobirama could say anymore, leaving the shinobi alone in the glow of the flames.
Tobirama eased himself against the table, soaking up these few moments of silence in fear that another distraction would come floating through that door just like that wind. Hundreds upon thousands of thoughts raced through Tobirama's mind, from the past to the future. He recalled every detail of his brother's campaign, as any right hand to a General should. Tobirama was more than the brother to a leader; in fact, he was as powerful in the eyes of the people as Hashirama was. He was simply a realistic man. He was no philosopher, nor was he a motivator. He was a competent shinobi, and that is all a right hand should ever be.
"You two always patch things up so quickly."
Tobirama shifted his gaze to the door, where he was met with another gust of wind. Again, the flames did not go out. Tobirama smiled, "You shouldn't spy on people, cousin. It's rude, especially for a young lady like you."
A woman, only a few years younger than Tobirama, dressed in armor similar to Hashirama's own stood with her arms crossed. She had a very controlled look about her, which hid well behind her long dark hair. A dark purple shade of lipstick covered her lips, and her eyes matched Hashirama's, without that hint of emotion. "I just happened to be standing outside the tent, waiting for you two to finish talking. I have to speak with you."
Tobirama offered his cousin a chair, "Is something wrong, Tōka?"
The thin faced kunoichi sat beside Tobirama and pulled a scroll from her pouch, opening it across the table on top of the map. "Hashirama is leading this war, and as his closest allies, it is up to us to make sure he keeps focused on leading it." The scroll was detailed from right to left in seals and scribbles. Tobirama could make out what looked like an incantation across the border, and some other intricate seals he did not recognize.
Tobirama was certain of one thing, "This is the Uzumaki's work," Tobirama ran his hand across the scroll's face, and could feel each bump and ridge across its surface. He made out a few symbols upon closer inspection; blood, honor, and soul. Tobirama shook his head from left to right, pulling his hand away from the scroll. "They have told us once that they wish to be excluded from this war, Tōka."
"I'm certain we can get them on our side," Tōka ran her fingers along the scroll, just as Tobirama had. The Uzumaki's craftsmanship was nothing less than a work of art, a testament to where their strength lied. Masters in the art of sealing, an age sect of techniques referred to as fūinjutsu. Clans from around the world tried to gain the support of the Uzumaki, but they remained adamant in staying out of the world's wars. "There is a woman; they call her the Princess of the Whirlpools…"
Tobirama smiled; there was something about Tōka that Tobirama felt he always lacked. She was crafty, and at the same time, intuitive. It was why Hashirama found good counsel in her, as did Tobirama. "You want to bind our clans through marriage, correct? This is quite the investment Tōka, and at the same time, it has its legs. The Uzumaki are wont to keeping out of the affairs, but marriage to Hashirama is not something they are likely to decline." He pressed his hand to his chin and examined the scroll, still impressed at Tōka's initiative. He was glad that he had somebody like Tōka at his side, when Hashirama was so thick.
"Precisely," Tōka snatched the scroll and rolled it back up, placing it back into her pouch. "I wanted to run this idea by you first, before proposing it to Lord Hashirama. As his counsel, we must remain ahead of him, even if it's by a few steps."
Tōka meant well, but Tobirama knew that no matter how hard they tried, Hashirama would remain leagues ahead of either of them. He knew what he was going to do, and how he was going to do it before he even spoke about it with Tobirama or Tōka. Even the other Clan leaders who swore their allegiance were as far in the dark with Hashirama's plans as every other man. Hashirama meant well, but it wouldn't do any good to his cause to anger his closest friends and comrades. "It's getting stuffy in this tent." Tobirama stepped away from the table and made his way through the door of the tent, tossing aside the leather flap and into the crisp morning air. He was practically naked, without his armor, but he was safe from harm here of all places. He glanced back into the tent, taking note of the candles still burning in their stands. He felt a chill, staring into those flames for even a brief moment.
"Shall I send an envoy to the Land of Whirlpools?" Tōka said as she stepped from the tent behind Tobirama.
Tobirama shook his head, "First we will bring this news to Hashirama. While this move may be for the success of this war, I do not intend on making decisions without my brother's approval. And if he does agree with your proposal, I want it to be you who brings word to the Land of Whirlpools, Tōka."
"We are the advisers to Hashirama, his counsel and the two people he relies on, yet you want to send me east to broker a deal? You take me for a fool, cousin." Tōka had worked hard, as hard as Tobirama and Hashirama, just to earn the respect of her peers. As the son of the Clan leader, the two brothers were always looked upon favorably, while Tōka was seen as the 'noble girl' of her father. She proved she was much more than that, in her actions and her words.
Tobirama raised a hand as a plea for Tōka to calm. She believed that he was underestimating her, while she had done the same in underestimating his reasoning. "The Uzumaki will take it as an insult if a lesser clansman should come trotting into their lands offering my brother's hand in marriage; they would surely decline our offer. We must not send a nameless face Tōka, and I cannot go for reasons you know. That is why you must go, because I trust you,"
"And it wouldn't hurt for a female, such as yourself, to bring news to this Princess of the Whirlpools should they agree to this marriage. Who knows, cousin… you may even make a friend."
Tōka's mouth twisted into a scowl, "Go talk to Lord Hashirama, send a messenger when you have his approval of this proposition." Tōka turned to leave, but was stopped by one last inquiry by Tobirama.
"How do you know he'll approve of being married off?"
She gave Tobirama a look, and saw that same distinction that Hashirama's eyes had; confidence. "Because it's in his nature to sacrifice for the greater good," she said the same word Hashirama used, the 'greater good'. "And if I know Lord Hashirama, then he would agree without a second thought. It's who he is, you should know that."
Yes, I should, he thought although he said "Expect word from me, or a messenger within the hour. Find some good men among these allies of ours; show the Uzumaki how diverse our ranks are." And with that, Tōka was off, gone before Tobirama's very eyes. He often wondered if the Tōka he spoke with was actually her, or some complicated illusion she devised to speak with him. Masters of illusion are known to be rather boastful of their power, and Tōka was as masterful as they came.
Tobirama peered down the hillside, into the expanse of shinobi and kunoichi who allied under the Senju for the coming war. He eyed a large tent, larger than his and Hashirama's quarters that stood tall behind him. The tent carried symbols from each clan who had allied with Hashirama, and had been sewn together from the richest silks and the finest linens. At the entrance, stood two tall wooden totem poles, decorated with various animal heads from a deer to a monkey to a snake. Guards surrounded the tent on all sides, creating distance between the common folk and the Clan Leaders who gathered inside. Tobirama sighed, making his way down the cliff to convince Hashirama into marrying this princess. The right-hand of the Lord Commander of this army had devolved into a wingman, but Tobirama believed that only he would find the irony in that…
