.
I shiver on the one,
I breathe for two,
I give you what you want –
I bend the truth.
It was with a sense of both trepidation and excitement that Mito filled her traveling pack the morning of their departure. She did not need much, and as she arranged the contents – an extra set of traveling gear, weapons, ninja rations – she wondered just what the Land of Iron would be like. It was far to the north, and covered with snow most of the year, or so she had heard. The weather in Konoha was not what she would have preferred for traveling – rainy and rapidly cooling, and the leaves that had begun to fall stuck wetly to the ground, sustaining a damp chill in the air. Mito had never ventured very far north, and she could only imagine how much colder it would be in Sanro if this was the state of the temperature in the Land of Fire.
Donning a nondescript travel cloak, she arranged her still sleep-tousled hair beneath the hood and yawned as she shouldered her pack. She'd dressed for the road – no expensive kimono, complicated obi, or absurd geta, just a simple pair of cropped pants and a long-sleeved mesh shirt underneath a dark green tank-top. Once they got closer to their destination, she would change into something more appropriate for a visiting dignitary, but Mito had made it clear that she would not let impractical clothing hinder their journey when she'd discussed it with Hashirama a few days prior.
Things had been busy – she'd begun training with Madara each morning before sunrise, steadily improving not only her stamina but also her precision with projectile weapons, working on Academy projects including finalizing entry regulations as is was soon to be completed, and all around spending more and more time with the Uchiha clan head. The mood between them had shifted, somehow – less of a despairing, melancholy guilt and more of a relaxed, playful atmosphere. Slowly, she was seeing the Madara that could have been, in brief moments of unfettered happiness. It was all exhilarating nervousness and yet inexplicable giddiness; much like what Mito imagined dating would have been like if she had ever had the opportunity, and it was rapidly growing into one of her biggest reasons for joy.
Besides all of that, just four days earlier had been Reiko and Tobirama's wedding. It had been small but sweet – nothing like the production that Mito's own nuptials had been. The ceremony had been intimate and it had brought tears to her eyes as she watched them pledge their eternal love and devotion; their love was so real, almost tangible, and it was both happiness for her friend and a pang of jealousy that had caused her eyes to mist over and fill. But it had not been the time to focus on herself, Mito had known, and she'd simply congratulated the happy couple.
Now, she was hit by another wave of uncertainty; a sense of guilt at taking Reiko along with them to Sanro when Tobirama would be staying behind. The blonde had assured her that it was no big deal – We've been living together for a long time, we were practically married already, she had said with a shrug – but Mito could not help her feelings about them separating so soon after the wedding. However, Reiko had been insistent on coming along, and if she was anything, she was stubborn, so there was no use arguing with her.
"Hashirama?" Mito called out as she exited their chambers. "Are you ready to go?"
His voice answered her from down the hall, "Yes, whenever you are!"
He was waiting in the entryway, armor-clad with a large scroll on his back. When she rounded the corner, he turned, face lighting up with a smile. "Good morning, sleepy-head."
"Morning," she replied. Pulling on her shinobi sandals, Mito added, "I didn't sleep in that much longer than you."
"Of course you didn't," he said, a chuckle in the undertone of his voice. Holding out one large palm, Hashirama grasped her hand. "Let's go."
They walked in an easy silence, neither of them wanting to disturb the serene hush of the village before dawn. There were few people on the streets so early, but Mito was still hyper-conscious of the way his fingers were curled around hers. Yes, they'd done a lot more than hold hands in the weeks they'd been married, but being physical had been odd enough for her without it being out in the open. It was easier in the dark, under the covers, alone, and it was an uncomfortable sensation to be so visible.
So when they reached the village gates to meet up with their traveling party and Mito saw a head of unruly ebony hair, she dropped Hashirama's hand as if it was burning her. He gave her a quizzical look, and she whispered a quick excuse, "I'm sorry, I'm just nervous around the others."
He didn't say anything, but his body language did not change, remaining relaxed, and Mito was relieved that he had bought what was only half a lie. "Good morning, everyone," the Hokage greeted those who were gathered, and a murmur of half-mumbled greetings was the response.
Mito made her own polite addresses, taking note of just who was going along — herself and Hashirama of course, Reiko yawning through splayed fingers, and three men who she assumed were assigned by the village council to as a safety precaution. They introduced themselves as Sarutobi Toki, Shimura Ken, and Himura Daichi, and she thanked them for their service as she knew she was expected to. Despite that, she bit back the urge to let her feelings show on her face at the apparent "need" to protect her — she was a kunoichi, and she could protect herself — when she realized that it wasn't just her, but also Reiko who possibly could need to be protected.
Again, she found herself wishing she'd been able to convince the blonde to stay home, but Mito knew a visiting "princess" would seem odd without at least one lady to wait on her. Besides, I'll probably be glad to have her around sooner rather than later, especially since we are traveling with a bunch of men, she thought.
A hand on her shoulder brought her back to the present. "I just have a few things to discuss with the escort squad before we go," Hashirama explained quietly.
"Of course," Mito replied, her understanding nod sending him on his way to the three-man team. Reiko and Tobirama were deep in their own conversation to the side of the archway, and she decided to give them their last few moments of privacy; she moved to the opposite side of the gate and setting her pack down against the wall there in the shadow of the watch station.
Simply for the sake of having something to do, she began to double-check her pack and gear. She was fiddling unnecessarily with the straps of her sandals when the soft tread of someone approaching made her look up, and who she saw made her want to smile and flinch away at the same time.
Her face decided on a polite smile however, and she found herself lowering her voice to say, "Good morning, Madara-san."
The Uchiha's expression was as inscrutable as ever, though she could have sworn she saw the hint of a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he pointed out, "You already said that, Mito-san."
"Well, I'm saying it again," she said, repressing the urge to sound petulant as she returned to resecuring her right sandal. This early in the morning – not to mention in front of all these people, including her husband – was not the time for flirtatious banter..
Apparently, her companion did not hold the same opinion; the gleam in his eyes lent a wickedly playful quality to the smirk he donned as he simply made a noncommittal sound in response to her redundancy.
Straightening, she discovered his expression had softened – only by the tiniest of increments, but softened nonetheless. Mito had been getting better at reading the subtle nuances in his face, and the downward pull of the corner of his mouth, the way his brows had come together just slightly… they translated to what would be acute concern on anyone else.
Her own expression morphed into a shallow mimicry of his, her concern over his concern obvious. "What's the matter?" she asked in a whisper, clasping her own hands together so they did not betray her desire to touch him.
"Be careful," Madara said, and his tone indicated he would accept nothing other than a promise to do so. Mito knew was not the patronizing concern of a man who thought that a woman would forever be in danger without a male to protect her; he was completely serious, and he would not be concerned without valid reason.
Onyx eyes held charcoal for a moment before she promised, "I will."
"Good." The intensity left him, as he was evidently satisfied with her sincerity. He spoke again, in a quick but hushed stream of words, "They most likely will not tell you this, as not to frighten you or Reiko-san, but attacks on travelers have increased in the area you will be passing through, and they are not mere bandit raids. Reports have attributed the majority to a band of ninja from other villages who were unable to comply with treaty protocol, and thus were exiled. They've come together to form their own group, and by all accounts, they have lost sight of what it means to be a shinobi, killing and stealing without reserve."
Mito's eyes were wide, but before she could say anything in response to the information, Madara leaned closer to whisper urgently, "They have no mercy, Mito. If you should encounter them, it is kill or be killed. They do not know any boundaries, nor do they deserve any mercy. If it comes down to your life or theirs, you must not hesitate. Do you understand?"
Nodding, she replied, "Yes, Madara, I understand."
"Prepare to depart!" rang out across the gateway, and Mito was reminded that they were not alone. They pulled back to a more appropriate distance, interlocked gazes finally parting.
The wind picked up, sending strands of scarlet hair to tangle across her face as she turned to walk back toward the others. Madara followed, and everyone said their goodbyes – as he shook her hand in what felt like a far too distant gesture, Mito felt him press something into her palm, and she deftly tucked it into her armband.
It was not until hours later when they took their first break that Mito had the opportunity to be alone and inspect what he had given her. It was simply a scrap of paper, but it was adorned with beautiful penmanship that seemed oddly fitting to be the Uchiha's hand. She pressed it to her heart, as if she could physically feel the warmth from his words, and closed her eyes to commit the message to memory. Holding the paper between her fingertips, she used a small fire-starting jutsu to set it aflame, and watched as it burnt away, ashes drifting into nothing in the afternoon breeze.
Come back to me safely – that had been the simple sentiment, and as she rejoined the rest of the traveling party she vowed across the miles that separated the two of them, I will, Madara, I swear.
Despite Madara's warning, their journey was uneventful, interrupted only by the occasional break and to stop for the night, and in three days, they were crossing into the Land of Iron.
The weather conditions had worsened as they traveled farther north, the damp cold gradually morphing into a dry chill that was sharp, piercing even the heavy garments Mito had brought along. Now, they were traversing jagged mountains laden with pine trees and snow; the density of it along with fact that it was still coming down seemed to muffle all sound other than the soft crunch of their footsteps, encompassing them in a world of wind and white.
As the group reached the entrance to the pass that cut through the mountain range, two men appeared ahead of them, seeming to materialize from nothing amidst the snowfall. They did not look like any ninja Mito had ever seen – there was an unusual kind of grace in their movements, despite the gleaming silver armor they both wore, and each had two swords of differing lengths strapped to their hip.
"Who dares trespass in our territory?" one boomed out, his volume unsettling after the near-constant silence.
At this, Hashirama stepped forward, pushing back the hood of his cloak, prompting the rest of the group to do the same, and Reiko grabbed Mito's hand. "We are no trespassers," Hashirama assured them. "I am Senju Hashirama, Hokage of Konohagakure, and these are my companions. We have been invited here by Hibari, your leader, and we come in peace."
The two samurai remained silent for a moment, and Mito found herself holding her breath. She knew that the Land of Iron had always remained neutral in shinobi affairs, but neutrality was not the same as amicability.
Silver helmets glinted with the reflection of snow and ice as they inclined their heads in recognition. "Welcome, Hokage," the second one said. "We have had word of your arrival, though we did not expect it so soon." Stepping back and extending one arm, he continued, "Follow me, I will lead you to our village."
Mito breathed a tiny sigh of relief, and she felt Reiko relax her grip. The blonde shot her a small, almost-embarrassed smile, and Mito gave her a reassuring squeeze. So far, so good, she thought, and took a deep breath as the samurai led them into the heart of the mountains.