Nezumi had died just the day before the Senju brothers arrived. Aya had pleaded with their father that his body be preserved till the two siblings came back home, so that they might bury him in a dignified manner. The rest of the clan wanted to simply make a hole in the ground, shove his innocent corpse in, and cover it up with sand; no coffin, no mourning. However, Butsuma Senju, whose heart seemed to have softened over the years, as his head grew hoary and his eyes dimmed, was in favor of the girl, and arranged that Nezumi's body be, at least, preserved in a scroll until Hashirama and Tobirama came to bury him.
Hashirama was showed to said scroll, and he unsealed it, revealing the limp, lifeless little boy-or rather his shell, for the joy, happiness and wonder that was Nezumi, had gone into oblivion. The Senju dropped to his knees and bewailed his loss, Tobirama trying to comfort him with little success. After Hashirama had devoted thirty minutes to tears, he resolved that the burial should be done quickly, before another mission were assigned to them. Tobirama agreed on this and Hashirama thus set about to make the preparations.
However, Tobirama suspected foul play. He questioned Aya as to the circumstances surrounding Nezumi's death and discovered that he simply 'took ill' and died the next day. Aya informed him that medics were called and drugs were given but there was no improvement, and all she could do was make him comfortable(there was a great deal of sobbing as she delivered this report) Tobirama sought the intricate details of Nezumi's symptoms, all of which she described to him as only fever, coughing and headaches.
The younger Senju retreated to his study, poring over scroll after scroll with intense concentration. By sunset, he emerged from said chamber and proceeded to their father's quarters. Tobirama passed Hashirama in a corridor, noting the downcast and mournful look in his eyes-which were red as blood, as a result of his crying. Hashirama informed his brother that he had crafted a beautiful coffin as best he could with his Mokuton. Tobirama responded by imploring him to wait before he buried the child, stepping in to see their father a moment after.
Once inside Butsuma's chambers, the silver-haired Senju sank to one knee and lowered his head in a respectful greeting. Butsuma was thin and spare, a form he hid behind a voluminous garb. His hair was the same color as Tobirama's but his was due to age and not genetics. His face was fraught with deep wrinkles, his eyes were sunken and they twinkled warmly at his progeny.
"What is it my son?" the old man questioned.
"I would like to call a whole clan meeting." replied Tobirama.
"To what effect?"
"To discover," replied the young Senju, " the one who killed Nezumi. I'm convinced that this was murder. "
The whole Senju; more than three hundred shinobi, old and young, man and woman, were gathered in front of the their leader's house. They were murmurs and whispers amongst them as they waited right outside the gates. It was very rare that the whole clan met like this. The occasion usually involved impending all out war with another clan, or meting out of judgement to a one who had committed some heinous crime. The last instance of the latter, one of them had turned traitor and became a spy for the Akuchi clan, and he was stoned to death by the whole clan on a cool evening such as this.
The sun was halfway beneath the horizon and the sky was a coalition of gold, orange and red. Tobirama appeared and was walking up to them, his father on his right, wearing a serene expression, and Hashirama on his left, glaring murder. The two brothers were dressed in their armour, with a sword at Tobirama's waist, while their father wore a white kimono. The arrival of these three silenced everyone present.
"Nezumi Uchiha, our young charge and a comrade of the Senju, is dead," said Tobirama, "and one of you killed him."
The whole clan gasped in unison.
"I am convinced it is true." said the white-haired Senju. "I've discovered the exact poison used to finish the job. It is one of Hashirama's special concoctions which he taught to our clan medics. A unique poison that masks death with sickness of the most commonplace symptoms. One would consider it a small trifle, administer simple drugs and expect improvement." Tobirama took out a small vial with a colorless liquid inside, raising it above his head so that all might see it. "It has no color, it has no odour, and three drops are all that is needed to seal one's fate."
Tobirama continued. "I'm a little disappointed that none of our clan's medics could see through this ruse. I guess they must not have put too much effort in trying to treat Nezumi. It's no secret that all of you hated the young boy and one of you has killed him. If Hashirama were here, he would have seen through this in an instant." said Tobirama, replacing the vial into his pouch and folding his hands.
"Now, would the murderer please step forward." said Butsuma Senju.
There was silence. They began glancing furtively at one another and perspiration broke out of the foreheads of some-particularly the medics.
"Do you think you can hide from the hand of justice?" asked Tobirama. "Do not force me to identify you myself."
"How dare you!" cried one of the Senju present. "You accuse your own blood because of that clan of beasts! If one of us did kill that whelp Nezumi, then he did the whole clan a favour. That boy-"
That was as far as he got before Hashirama's fingers closed around his throat and hoisted him off the ground. The unruly man thrashed about in Hashirama's iron grip-his eyes projecting out of their sockets and face losing color by the second-to no avail. Hashirama squeezed tighter and tighter on his neck, and would have crushed his throat completelywere it not for Tobirama's intervention.
"Stop, Hashirama." said the white haired Senju, arms still folded. Hashirama threw the man to the ground and returned to his brother's side. "Besides, he's not the killer." added Tobirama
"Then who is?" asked the man, still massaging his throat.
Tobirama vanished from sight, reappearing amongst the gathered Senju, his sword drawn and the blade pressed against the thin neck of one of them, an old man in green armor with squinted dark eyes; the same one who spoke up against Nezumi's adoption at the clan elders gathering a year prior. "It was you, Senju Goemon-sama." said the white haired Senju. Goemon
The old man looked down on the ground and saw a technique marking inscribed on a pebble in front him. The kanji was also carved into several small stones in around them all. "So, you've marked the immediate vicinity with your Flying Thunder God technique."
"I can't have you running away now, can I?" Tobirama responded.
Goemon chuckled. "How exactly do you hope to prove this?"
"Did you not do it?" asked Tobirama.
Goemon began, "Why would I-"
"Liar." said Tobirama. "I can sense it. Your deceit is disturbing your chakra."
"You have no proof other than this? I know you are a gifted sensor but-"
"All that's needed is truth serum," said Hashirama, "and I brew the best."
"True." returned the old man with a sigh. "I guess the game is up." and then he dispelled into smoke.
"Shadow clone!" cried Tobirama. "Fooled me with my own jutsu!" The Senju shut his eyes in concentration, increasing his inner perception of chakra. He waded through the diverse signatures around him, widening his sensory radius by meters, then kilometers, crossing the mountains, spanning the forests, examining the streams, searching earnestly for Goemon.
"Twenty kilometers away! He's fleeing!" said Tobirama after a moment. "Hashirama, let's go after him now!"
Hashirama nodded and Tobirama began to lead the way, leaving a shocked group of Senju in their wake.
By nightfall, they had returned with the old man, who was severely battered when they arrived at the Senju quarters. His head was bleeding, his armour was missing almost all the platings, he had lost one eye, and on top of this, Hashirama was literally dragging his bony frame over the craggy ground. Another meeting was called in front of the Senju residence. Tobirama and Hashirama stood on both sides of their father, and Goemon sat, groaning, more dead than alive, in front of the family trio.
"We have a traitor in our midst, and it wasn't even the Uchiha who dwelt amongst us." said Butsuma. "I grew up with Goemon and I must say I never expected such a shameful act from a man like him. He threw off his helmet of dignity, his breastplate of honour, and now the arrows of shame and disgrace have pierced him. A curse be upon his head! Let this be a lesson to all of you. Now, I will allow Hashirama to determine his punishment, and you will all accept it."
Hashirama cleared his throat. "I am usually more inclined to mercy than justice when dealing with a man, but a crime so heinous as the cold-blooded murder of a child, makes Goemon-sama no longer a man in my eyes. When Nezumi was to be adopted, I spoke about the Senju's philosophy of love. It is clear that this animal"-he looked down on Goemon with scornful eyes-"is no Senju as well, for only bitterness and hatred lurk in his heart. He is not my kin, he is not a man, and so he must die."
There was a complete silence as Hashirama said this. All kept their eyes fixed on him, with expressions of shock and fear written on their faces.
"I will show him a little mercy." said Hashirama. "His death will be slow, so that he might perhaps consider the evil of his actions and show remorse like a man, like a Senju. I have crafted a coffin for Nezumi's burial, Goemon-sama will be chained to the gravestone in front Nezumi's resting place until he dies of hunger and thirst. His last sight will be the name of his innocent victim carved in rock, and he will regret his foolishness."
"So it shall be done." said Butsuma Senju gravely.
Two days passed and it was nightfall. A half moon gleamed in this sky, showering the Senju quarters with its dull rays. The distant melody of crickets filled the air, interposed with the hooting of owls. All had gone to sleep save for the guards stationed at the entrance. There were two of them standing in front of the main gate, alert for any sign of danger. One of them, garbed in grey armor, perceived an approaching chakra signature, and raised his guard. He relaxed in the next moment, when he realised it was just Hashirama and Tobirama.
They were dressed in simple, black yukatas as they approached the entrance. Greeting the guards with a nod, they leaped over the gates and proceeding onwards into the woods. After about ten minutes of walking through the trees, leaves crunching beneath their feet, fireflies twinkling in the air, sharp beams of moonlight penetrating the canopy of trees above and playing on their tresses and faces, they reached a clearing. This clearing was their destination; it was where the Senju buried their dead.
There were many rows of graves marked by headstones which laid flat on the ground, a testament to the great bloodshed that characterized their lives as ninja. In the far end of the clearing, there was a man dressed in rags who appeared to be kneeling in front of a grave, paying his respects. The two brothers approached this man. It was Goemon, he was not kneeling but his two hands were chained to the grave, thus forcing him to crouch, and he had been that way for two days.
Goemon was looking terrible, his skin was sallow and pale, his face was very gaunt and bony, his lips were cracked and dry with thirst, his hair was wild and beast-like as it streamed over his wrinkled face, his hands were more bone than sinews and every difficult breath seemed to be his last. He was wide awake and upon seeing both brothers walk up to him, he mustered up strength to glare at them with immense hatred gleaming in his squinted right eye-for the left one was gone . "You..." he managed to mutter, but could say no more.
"Are you now ashamed of your actions?" asked Tobirama.
"I..." whispered the old man, "I...hate Uchi.." he muttered, but could find no strength to finish his sentence. Its meaning was, however, clear.
"Then, the little bit of hope I had for you is gone." said Hashirama, shaking his head pitifully. "You have suffered much, as you rightly deserve, but I am not a wicked man. Put him out of his misery, Tobirama." the Senju added as he placed his palm on the chains wrapping Goemon's hand, which were made of iron and strengthened by a sealing technique. The sealing formula vanished from the restraints at Hashirama's touch, and the bindings fell off the old man's hands. Goemon simply collapsed on the ground in severe exhaustion after he was freed, still gazing at the brothers, but with a quizzical look.
Tobirama extracted something from his pouch which appeared to be locks of hair. He threw them on the ground, weaved certain hand seals and slammed his palm on the earth. A technique formula appeared on the ground, creating a circle around the hair, which was connected, by some complex designs, to a similar circle around Goemon. In an instant, dust and dirt rose from the ground and began to wrap the old man's prone frame. They were evidently causing him great pain for he bellowed a great agonised cry, which ceased abruptly when he was completely covered by the strange materials. Goemon was gone and standing before them was young Nezumi, garbed in the white robe in which he was buried-the right side of the robe crossed over the left, as is customary for the dead-with pallid skin marked with cracks here and there, and his sclera dark in color.
"Hello, Nezumi." greeted Hashirama with a sad smile.
The young boy looked confused. He brought his hands close to his face, examining the paleness of his skin and the dark streaks that marred it, then understood. "Tobirama-san's Edo Tensei. So I really did die..."
"Hashirama requested that I bring you back." said Tobirama, whose hands were now folded, his expression placid as always.
"We still haven't celebrated your birthday!" declared Hashirama in his usual jovial manner. Nezumi chuckled while Tobirama sighed.
"That is true." said the young boy with a grin. "So, what do you have in mind?"
"Well, it's too late at night to go gambling at Tanzaku," replied Hashirama with a sad pout, "but we can perfect your stone skipping!" he added with a wink as he recovered his smile.
The trio located a stream and Hashirama and Nezumi chucked stones at the water, Tobirama leaning against a tree close by and watching them in his stoic manner. Hashirama's shots invariably skid over the water and reached the other side, Nezumi's always fell with a plunk into the pool. Hashirama laughed, Nezumi laughed. After about an hour, Nezumi's pebble reached the other side and they celebrated. The brothers and the young boy proceeded to a nearby meadow, where they sat and talked and laughed-'they' meaning Hashirama and Nezumi. Tobirama found an ideal spot on the ground to make himself comfortable as he gazed at them with an apathetic disposition. He was never really one for merry making.
Hashirama told Nezumi about his crush on Mito of the Uzumaki clan. Nezumi commented that she would be lucky to have him. Nezumi asked how Aya was, Hashirama told him she was sad. Nezumi became quite melancholy at this, but Hashirama cheered him up by showing him various ninjutsu techniques. They played, they even sang a bit, and Tobirama watched in silence.
By and by, the night dragged on, and so did their simple fun, and Tobirama's lack of participation, until the dawn was on the horizon. They proceeded back to the grave site and all three stood in front of the boy's headstone.
"Must feel weird looking at your own grave, huh?" asked Hashirama.
"Yeah." assented Nezumi with a morose look on his face.
"It's time for you to go." said Tobirama.
Nezumi nodded. "I'll miss the both of you."
"We'll miss you too." said Hashirama, his eyes glossed with tears.
Nezumi fell in front of his grave and began to sob, Hashirama collapsed beside him and the two of them cried their eyes out together, trying to comfort one another but only increasing their sadness. Tobirama knelt beside both and patted their backs gently, trying to ease their pain. There was a sad and forlorn look in his crimson eyes, which suggested that he felt something of their anguish as well. After a few minutes, Tobirama stood to his feet and began to weave certain seals. A bright light surrounded Nezumi's body and shot up into the sky as the boy's whole frame began to crumble and break.
"One request," said Nezumi as he slowly ceased to be, "don't join me any time soon." and he smiled a goofy smile. Tobirama stepped forward, placed his hand on the boy's head and ruffled his hair, their eyes locked and glowing with emotion. In this instant, Tobirama abandoned his indifferent visage and smiled a bittersweet smile just before the light vanished, and only Goemon's corpse was left in a heap of dust and ashes.
The End.