dust-breather, star-eater

Her brother sends her to Konoha when she is nineteen years old. Only an Uzumaki can contain the Kyuubi, he says. I send you because I know you are strong. She wants to say our father would not have done this to me, but she knows that doesn't matter. Her father is three years dead, and no one can save her now. Her brother says he is rewarding her for her strength. Mito knows the truth: she is a threat to his power, and so he has sent her as a lamb to the slaughter, a sacrifice for Konoha's altar. How many soldiers has her brother, the newest Namikage, sent to show his "friendship" to the Senju clan? Mito is just the latest tribute, and… and she would be lying if said she didn't hate her brother for it.

There is a white-haired man waiting by the village gate. Senju, Mito thinks numbly. She recognizes his face – she's spent the two long weeks from Uzushio studying the faces and names of Konoha's influential. It takes her a moment to remember his name: Tobirama, the Hokage's younger brother. He offers a smile that is closer to a grimace, and Mito's heart sinks to her stomach. "Uzumaki-san. Welcome to Konoha." He holds his hand out. Mito stares at the offered hand until he lowers it, his pitiful attempt at a smile turning to a frown.

"Uzumaki-hime," she corrects him softly. "Or Uzumaki-sama, if you prefer." She sees his guards stiffen, but Tobirama's lips twitch upwards, and she catches the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes before he turns away.

"Of course, Uzumaki-hime," he says. Tobirama glances over his shoulder at her, one white eyebrow arched. "Follow me, if you would. Anija is waiting."

Mito follows Tobirama through the village, frowning at the dust that stains the hem of her silk furisode. The streets are crowded, and Mito keeps her eyes fixed on Tobirama's back, between his shoulder blades. She feels the villagers' eyes on her, hears their whispers of Jinchuuriki as she passes. Finally, Tobirama leads her through a stone archway into what she assumes is the Senju compound.

Tobirama leaves Mito in the large receiving room, kneeling on the tatami mats. She stares at the rice straw, counting the breaths she takes to calm her racing heart. She has never been so uncertain about her future. Everything in Uzushio had been simple, constant: she had been sure of her father's love, sure of her people's adoration, and, before her father's untimely passing, she had been sure that she would one day become the Namikage. But now, her fate lay in the hands of Senju Hashirama, a man she had never met.

"Ah, Uzumaki-sama!"

Mito flinches at the sudden sound, falling backwards in an undignified sprawl. She blinks up at the dark-haired, tan man standing above her, heat filling her cheeks. Behind the stranger is Tobirama, who simply sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. The stranger at least has the decency to look abashed, and holds his hand out to help her up. Mito eyes his hand for a moment before standing without accepting his silent offer of assistance. She is nineteen, the princess of Uzushio, and very aware that she has only ever touched a man in battle.

"Forgive my brother," Tobirama says drily. Both men keep their eyes averted as Mito straightens her furisode and runs her fingers through her messy hair.

"Senju-sama," Mito says finally, bowing low. If this is Tobirama's brother, then this is Senju Hashirama, the renowned God of Shinobi, the man who now owns her.

"Can I offer you anything? Tea, or a meal perhaps?" Hashirama's voice is bright and smooth. For a moment, she believes that he means her no harm. But reality crashes down all too soon, and the bitter cold that has filled her since leaving Uzushio weighs her shoulders down.

"Your kindness," she says quietly – and she hates it, how meek and lowly she sounds, like a terrified child, not at all the kunoichi she trained to be – "while appreciated, Senju-sama, is wasted on me. I did not come here blindly expecting friendship."

The room is silent for ten heartbeats, twelve, and then: "So." Hashirama's voice has lost its cheer, become serious with a cold undertone that makes Mito shiver. "You will become our Jinchuuriki, then?"

Mito's smile is a sad and broken, but neither Senju says anything about the traitorous tears that threaten to fall. "You make it sound as though I have a choice. I will do as my brother has commanded, no less."

Something like pity flashes in Hashirama's eyes, but he is quick to disguise it. "Very well. Tobirama, take her to one of the guest rooms to prepare; I will go find Madara – we will hold the ceremony at sundown." He nods once, then leaves the room silently. All at once, the enormity of what she has agreed to hits Mito, and she falls to her knees. Tobirama makes no move to catch her; he watches, impassively, as she kneels one the floor, clutching her chest and willing the frantic pounding to stop. Her breath comes in harsh gasps and this, this is what panic feels like. She's panting but it feels like she's not breathing at all, the weight on her chest is crushing, and the world is spinning around her.


When her breathing calms and she is able to stand again, Tobirama leads Mito to one of the many bedrooms. Her things have all been deposited by her guards from Uzushio – guards who have long since disappeared, abandoning her to the mercies of the Senju brothers. Mito doesn't know how to feel – she thinks that maybe, she should feel betrayed, or lonely, or abandoned, but she hasn't been able to feel much of anything since her father's funeral. Since Kenshin had ordered her to become the vessel for the Kyuubi, to die on Konoha's altar and be reborn again as a weapon for Konoha.

Mito bathes, grateful for the distraction the scalding water provides. When she steps out of the bathing pool, her skin is red and raw, and the scars on her wrist are all the more visible because of it. She dresses slowly. She's worn a junihitoe only a few times before, and the fabric sits heavily and uncomfortably on her shoulders. The junihitoe is beautiful; twelve layers of exquisite silk, embroidered by Uzushio's greatest craftsmen, but Mito hates it. Her father had it made for her before he died, a gift from a doting father to his beloved daughter. Her brother insisting she wear it here is a mockery of her father's affection.

She leaves her hair loose. It falls to her waist in crimson waves, hiding her face and providing a welcome barrier between her and the rest of the world. Mito examines her reflection in her small hand mirror, frowning at the pallor and thinness that has grown more apparent in recent days. She paints her lips and cheek with rouge, lines her eyes with kohl.

Tobirama is waiting in the hallway when Mito exits her room. His eyes are closed, and Mito takes the opportunity to examine his face. He is a study in angles, from the high arch of his cheekbones to the slant of his eyes to the comma of his lithe body leaning against the wall. His eyes flash open, red meeting startled violet.

"It's time," is all he says. Mito follows him down the dark hallways and out into Konoha. Dusk has arrived, painting the wooden city in shadows. Dread makes the walk seem longer – all Mito can hear is the pounding of her heart.

Finally, they arrive in a clearing, and Mito's heart stops. She takes a faltering two steps past Tobirama, staring ahead even as terror turns her blood to ice and her hands begin to tremble. Hashirama and two other men stand talking, but that is not what captures her attention. Restrained by wooden chains is the Kyuubi, in all its hateful glory. Malicious chakra oozes off of it, and Mito feels suddenly nauseous.

"Uzumaki-sama," Hashirama greets. The two men beside him fall silent and turn to her, twin sets of red-and-black eyes sizing her up. The resemblance between them makes Mito think they are brothers: they both have pale skin and chiseled features. And both of them are eying her with obvious distrust. "This is Uchiha Madara, and his brother Izuna. They will keep the Kyuubi calm as I seal it in you."

Hashirama steps forward, and Mito stumbles backwards a step. She slams into the hard plane of Tobirama's chest, flinching as his hands come up to steady her. She steps forward, away from the surprisingly steady warmth of the younger Senju. "You will not," she hisses, "touch me." Hashirama's eyes widen, and she can hear Tobirama's surprised intake of breath.

The Uchiha brothers go very still and then, suddenly, Madara laughs, loud and darkly amused. His voice is rough when he speaks, and it seems to Mito that even the trees stop to listen. "Let the fuinjutsu master handle the sealing," he advises. Hashirama opens his mouth to say something, but Madara silences him with a shake of his head. "Later," he murmurs, almost too softly to be heard.

"Fine," Hashirama says. "Let the ceremony begin." He forms a few hand seals and a stone altar rises from the ground in the center of the clearing. As Mito approaches it, she can't help but feel as though she's walking to her grave. She's studied the necessary seals for weeks, made improvements as she discovered flaws, and she knows that this will work.

And that's what terrifies her.

She lays back on the altar and stares up at the darkening sky. Hashirama's voice cuts through her panic, soft and calm by her ear. "I'm going to release the Kyuubi now, Uzumaki-sama. Madara will keep it docile, but the Sharingan isn't strong enough to hold it for long."

"I understand," she whispers. Hashirama presses a brush into her hand, and heat blooms in her cheeks as she realizes what must come next. She cannot paint the seals over her clothing. Mito sits up, her hands trembling with embarrassment now, rather than fear. She reaches for the kaiken at her side and slashes her junihitoe open, exposing her stomach and praying to whatever gods are listening that the four men around her are not watching.

Taking a deep breath, she begins to paint the seals that are burned into her memory. Seals to bind and to control. She can feel the moment they begin to work, drawing the Kyuubi's chakra into her. She gasps, then bites her lip so hard that blood fills her mouth and spills down her lips. The Kyuubi is full of malice and hatred, and while Mito has heard stories, she is entirely unprepared for the reality of it.

Foolish child, a voice that is not her own roars. Mito screams, clutching her head and curling into herself. You dare think yourself capable of imprisoning a god? You will bleed for this, foolish child! Your blood will boil, your bones will turn to ash. Release me, or I will show you the pain of divinity. You will know the taste of sorrow, your people will know grief before they are slaughtered in their homes –

And then cool hands are touching her face, and the voice fades away. " – I need a healer, quickly!" Someone is shouting. Mito opens her eyes slowly, groggily, and it is Tobirama holding her in his lap, one arm wrapped securely around her waist and his other hand cupping her cheek, pressing her face gently against his shoulder. Tobirama looks down, and Mito is surprised to see fear in his eyes. When he realizes that she is awake, all emotion smooths away. "Uzumaki-hime," he murmurs, and his voice is rough and low and makes her shudder. He allows her to sit up when she pulls away.


They are alone in a room that is certainly not the one that Mito was led to earlier – this room is clearly lived in, with a messy futon and scrolls scattered about in a sort of organized chaos. Mito wipes her eyes and is only slightly surprised when they come away bloody. "What happened?" she asks, and her voice sounds hoarse even to her own ears.

"You lost consciousness," Tobirama explains. The arm around her waist tightens, and Mito flushes. She's still in his lap, and her clothing is shredded – indecent indeed. "The Kyuubi was sealed successfully, but we had not anticipated the side-effects of the process." At her questioning glance, Tobirama elaborates, "The Kyuubi has a much stronger consciousness than we had been led to believe."

"He's in my head," she whispers, presses the heels of her palms to her eyes. "I can feel him now, watching." Her voice rises an octave as she speaks. "He's in my head, I want him out, I want him out!"

"Uzumaki-hime," Tobirama seizes her wrists in one hand, pulling them away from her eyes. "Uzumaki-hime, please calm down."

Mito can feel the scream building up. She chokes it down, sobbing as the Kyuubi's chakra rises to the forefront of her mind again. The door bangs open and Hashirama skids in, followed by a medic. Hashirama says something to Tobirama, but everything sounds far away, muted. Mito squeezes her eyes shut, covers her mouth with a hand as she tries to stifle her sobs. She feels herself being lifted, her head lolls back against Tobirama's shoulder, and then she slips into unconsciousness.


Note: This is a short chapter, kind of an introduction. To clear some things up: This is an au in which Mito only went to Konoha after the Kyuubi attacked (in this case, without Madara controlling it) in order to serve as the Jinchuuriki.

Obviously I made some stuff up, since not a lot of information is given about Uzushiogakure: their kage in this is the Namikage (Nami means wave), and is Mito's older brother, Kenshin. Also it's like 3 am so this might not make sense but oh well.

Reviews are appreciated! This is going to be a TobiMito fic eventually okie bye