Unchained
Tobirama spends the next two rounds of tea and one of the boxes of snacks asking his grandmother about how the Uzumaki bring in money, seeing as they certainly do not hire out their fighting skills but are nonetheless comfortably well-off.
Baachan eyes him. "Did you see none of this for yourself while you were visiting your cousins, Tobirama-kun?"
Tobirama suppresses the urge to squirm guiltily; he did not get to know his coastal cousins as well as he could have, but that hadn't been why he was visiting. "I was doing my best to learn more about fuuinjutsu, Baa-san." He can recognise in hindsight that he wasn't very polite to his various cousins and in-laws-to-be, but in his defence he'd only had six months –less than that even– and he'd been trying to pack as much study into that time as he possibly could. He did manage to get further than his tutors had expected him to in those scant months, but that had come at the cost of other opportunities as he determinedly pursued fuuinjutsu. He'd not had time to make friends, and after returning to the Senju had been too consumed by his many duties to give much thought to writing letters to unfamiliar kin.
"Didn't even make any friends to keep writing to you," Baasan says, shaking her head at him, "and only now realising what you missed out on."
"I do write," Tobirama says grumpily, then remembers that the only person he writes to is Kei-san, and only one or two leopard-delivered letters per year. Not as often as he should, most likely, but it is as much as he was able to maintain.
Uzumaki Kei had taught him the basics of space-time fuuinjutsu, as well as quite a lot about sex, including –probably entirely incidentally– a good amount about his own preferences. Which boiled down mostly to 'not oiran or yūjo,' because nobody he's ever met who offers sexual services for money is actually enjoying it very much, and that always makes him feel horribly awkward about the whole process.
Kei-san had been a relief in that respect; his first sexual experience at sixteen –with an objectively very nice working girl– had been cripplingly awkward, but Kei-san had given him the confidence and skill to make his unfortunately unavoidable twentieth birthday gift of a night with a rather higher-class working woman much more manageable. He knows they meant well by the gift, but hadn't considered how uncomfortable his sensing abilities made such encounters; when one's bed-partner is only willing to allow touch because you are paying them and you cannot look away from that, it makes intimacy very awkward.
Kei-san however had given him a very enjoyable starting point with Izuna.
He should probably write to Kei-san again; she's likely heard something of all this mess and deserves something a bit more intelligible than rumours like the ones Izumi-san and Inamura-san were regaling him and Izuna with the other day.
His grandmother raises an eyebrow at him. "My grandson writes personal letters to Uzushio? To whom might they be addressed?"
"Uzumaki Kei; she was my tutor while I was there."
"Was she now." Baasan smirks at him. "Did you learn much in the way of useful skills, grandson?"
Tobirama feels himself flush; before being married he'd never have caught that innuendo, but unfortunately he has to take the bad with the good there. "Enough to get my marriage off on the right foot," he retorts.
Baasan chuckles at him. "You should write again, to let her know," she teases. "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear you're making good use of her teachings."
"I'll ask Izuna," Tobirama says; he's not sure letter-writing to Uzumaki is something that Izuna can count as a domestic freedom, as opposed to something that might threaten the clan and therefore Tajima can ban. "But what do the Uzumaki do? Beyond fishing and fuuinjutsu, of course."
"Grandson, fuuinjutsu is not a 'what;' it is a 'how,' as you should be well aware," Baasan scolds him lightly, then settles into a more didactic pose; Tobirama settles in to listen.
Maybe knowing more about what their coastal cousins do will give him a better idea of how the Senju could change to benefit from peace. They can't imitate the Uzumaki, of course, but it might well give him new ideas of how they can leverage the skills his clan does have for peaceful profit.
Noon is announced by Kiso knocking loudly on the door of the chashitsu and asking to give 'Baa-tan' her present. His grandmother is of course absolutely delighted to accept the sloppy crown of wisteria and carnations from her new great-grandson –and she does not hesitate to inform Kiso that he is her first great-grandchild– and put it on her head, before politely excusing herself from lunch and heading home again, graciously accepting the 'offered' escort to the border.
Tobirama has no doubt she will arrive with the flower crown still firmly in place, then make Anija choke on his food at lunch by asserting that it is from 'her eldest great-grandchild.' She might catch a few other people out as well.
Over lunch Kiso demands to be told everything about 'new Baa-tan' but is swiftly distracted by Tobirama's opening mention of Uzushio, so instead Tobirama spends the meal describing the high cliffs, the white stuccoed buildings with the roofs that catch rainwater in mazes, the bright paint, the stumpy trees, the sandy beaches, the gulls, the fishing boats and the Uzumaki themselves, all redheads to a man –or more accurately to a woman, as they rather significantly outnumber the men– and most of them learning fuuinjutsu almost from the cradle. Even if they have little interest in the discipline once older, they are certainly all rather more literate than most Senju care to bother with.
After the meal Kiso rushes to his blocks and toys rather than outside, settling in and mumbling unintelligibly to himself as he sets them out in the middle of the entrance room. Tobirama glances at Izuna –she is simply fond and pleased, evidently this is normal– then hands the empty bowls to Naka-Dragon and thanks her for the food she had prepared for his hosting efforts that morning. The older woman politely accepts his thanks, then slyly suggests he find something to do with his wife that will give Hayami-chan 'something else to fuss over.'
Tobirama glances at Izuna. "Does my wife have any suggestions?"
Izuna smirks at him. "Quite a few," she agrees quietly, "but first we have to put Kiso-kun down for his nap."
Tobirama glances at the wooden blocks and animal toys scattered around the toddler and being stacked up into little towers. "I do not think he will go quietly."
"Which is why we're going to cheat," Izuna confides. "If we get the futon out of your room and lay it out for him in the front room, then he'll either lie on it himself when he gets tired or we can move him to it once he succumbs on the tatami."
"Sneaky." Avoid the entire tantrum that interrupting playtime would incur, and still ensure the boy is properly rested.
"Then after that, I thought you might like to meet Keigetsu-chan."
Kiso's infant cousin. The one he abandoned to die slowly from cold and hunger, having slain all those who would have seen to her care. "You said she wasn't weaned yet," Tobirama manages, staring at the tatami in front of his knees.
"She isn't," Izuna replies, shuffling closer and letting her shoulder just touch his. "But she needs to be used to both of us holding her and doing things with her before then. Depending on how my pregnancy progresses I might end up breastfeeding her, to make the transition easier." She shrugs. "Too early to tell right now, but early enough that we do need to start helping care for Kei-chan."
Tobirama really doesn't want to. But. But he promised.
Izuna's knees are now next to his, covered by silk gauze in vibrant iris purple printed with flowering bottle gourd and hovering damselflies, the same that she wore on the day the ceasefire was announced. The obi she's wearing with it this time however is the white one with the orange damasked fish and blue-grey swirls he's seen before.
"You don't have to come today, Treasure," his wife says very softly. "But I am going, and I intend to bring her back here for a few hours so that Shirushi-chan and Obihiro-kun can have some alone-time. I can stay in the study."
Tobirama struggles for his voice. "That is acceptable," he manages. "Do you have something new I could read?" He might play with Kiso later, once the boy wakes from his nap –and the toddler is already faltering, he should get the futon out– but until that he is going to need a distraction.
"Historical, scientific or literary?"
Tobirama loves his wife so much. "Historical or literary, please." Something distracting that he won't find himself thinking up ways to test theories from, tests that he won't be able to put into practice.
"Historical literature it is then." His wife's chakra bubbles mischievously. "Anything in particular you'd like?"
Tobirama is reminded of the mystery of his fan. "Is 'General Stands Above Me' a book or a play?"
Izuna's chakra does a funny wobble. "It's a book that was turned into a play," she says blandly. "Quite a popular book, too."
"Can you find me a copy then? And one of whatever that fan of yours with the peonies and the shoe is alluding to."
"The Peony Pavilion," Izuna says, voice still utterly bland. "As you wish, Treasure; they are certainly both historical." She pauses. "I think I have 'The Peony Pavilion' here; I've also got 'The Great Sage of Evil', which is another very popular subject for fans." She pauses. "Not very popular in-clan though; mostly because it has a lot of walking dead and the necromancer does not get incinerated on principle."
Tobirama suspects there's a joke he's missing here, but unless he reads the books he's not going to find out what it is. "I will take those to start with, then."
Izuna kisses his cheek. "Then I shall fetch them for you while you lay out Kiso-kun's bed, and after that change my obi so I am fit to be seen in public."
"Are you ever fit to be seen in public, Lord-Wife?"
"Hush you." She kisses his mouth this time, silencing any further teasing commentary he might have made, then takes herself off to her study.
Tobirama also gets up and heads to his room to fetch the futon, then lays it out in the front room. Kiso is already nodding, so Tobirama simply picks him up and lays him down on the futon, one hand pressed gently on the boy's back as he grumbles.
By the time Izuna comes out with the novels, Kiso is fast asleep.
It turns out that 'The Peony Pavilion' is a play, and the novelisation Izuna supplies him with –written by a famous art-name even he recognises– is, as suspected, extremely raunchy. The entire first half of the book is in fact a long and very explicit love affair, described in passionately titillating detail. Tobiarma would have skipped ahead through it, except that the character development is oddly compelling and the two lovers are bright, flawed and unexpectedly real.
Then the entire lifelong affair is revealed to be a dream and Tobirama almost throws the book across the room in disgust. The only reason he doesn't is that the young lady protagonist finds this just as much as a betrayal as he does, and is not shy about declaring her horror and misery. Then she faints, is found unconscious by her family and lapses into a coma, which the doctor summoned by her father somehow misdiagnoses, pronouncing her dead and prompting the entire family to fall into mourning as her body is laid out in the family shrine in preparation for her burial.
What kind of quack practitioner is this doctor? Yes, those who fall unconscious and do not wake are increasingly unlikely to do so once a week has passed, and the care and feeding of such becomes increasingly onerous as time passes, but that's no reason to bury her before her lungs have ceased to draw breath or her heart has entirely ceased to beat! He focused more on medical ninjutsu than pharmacy, but he knows there are medicines –poisons, truthfully, but all medicines are poisons when incorrectly dosed– that slow the vitals almost to nothing so that the medics can take their time to focus on delicate work. The protagonist had not been exposed to such –her lethargy was a wound to her spirit, not her body– but as in those cases, given time she would eventually revive.
Tobirama firmly puts the book down and leaves the room to use the toilet and refill his pitcher of cold ama-cha; there is a respectable amount of story left, so it probably won't end in pointless tragedy. Not that he minds reading tragedies, but he likes to know they are a tragedy from the outset, and are also partly instigated by the choices of the protagonists themselves, not simply inflicted on them; stories about the grinding inevitability of an unhappy fate irritate him.
There are three more novels stacked on top of the low shelves in the iori room outside his fusuma; Tobirama leaves them there for now. The shōji leading to the front room are open, revealing that Kiso is no longer sleeping, but the toddler is not actually there. The shōji leading to Izuna's study are also slightly open.
Tobirama turns the other way, heading for the kitchen and the bathhouse. Briefly splashing cold water on his face helps him to regain a little composure and to remind himself that Izuna said it was fine that he didn't want to see the baby just yet.
He should have talked to Baachan about this. But it slipped his mind entirely in favour of more pleasant and pressing things, including what all his still-living relatives have been getting up to in his absence, and now she's gone and he can't very well ask her to come again in a day or so, not when both clans are busily preparing to receive an envoy from the Aburame.
Tobirama feels very guilty about not wanting to see the baby just yet, but he's also uncomfortably aware that seeing the baby will make his crimes that much more real. He believes Izuna, but seeing the child he so wronged is–
He doesn't want to have Kiso as an audience for however that goes.
Walking back into his room with a fresh jug of cold hydrangea-leaf tea, Tobirama pauses after opening his fusuma; he can hear soft singing.
It's Izuna; of course it is. But the song…
"…and on that day, that not-so-distant day, when you are far away and free; if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me. And though it's clear, thought it was always clear, that this was never meant to be; if you happen to remember, stop and think of me. Think of Tsuyu when the trees were green; don't think about the way things might have been. Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned; imagine me, trying too hard to court you from my mind. Think of me –please say you'll think of me– whatever else you choose to do; there will never be a day when I won't think of you!"
Tobirama grabs the novels off the shelf and flees into his bedroom, closing the fusuma firmly behind him and blessing his inability to access chakra; without it he can't hear his wife's soft voice drifting through the house, still singing. What little he has heard will echo in his ears as it is.
Only an Uchiha would use a song for saying goodbye to a former beloved as a child's lullaby. Firmly shoving any other reasons the song might be upsetting to the back of his mind, Tobirama pours himself more tea and opens 'The Peony Pavilion' with wilful interest.
His perseverance is rewarded: in this chapter the male protagonist is finally introduced properly. It seems there may yet be a happy ending for the two lovers.
Tobirama determinedly opens the subject of Keigetsu the following morning after breakfast, immediately after Kiso has been handed over to Midori-chan.
"I need to talk to you, Lord-Wife."
Izuna eyes him, concern clear in her chakra; Tobirama isn't sure what his colouring looks like right now, but it probably isn't great; he is not looking forward to this.
"Where would you like to talk, Treasure?"
"Your music room," Tobirama decides; it is as far from the kitchen and Naka-Dragon as it is possible to get while staying in the house. "We could have tea later, but not right away."
"Of course."
Of course, once he is sitting next to his wife in her music room, fiddling with the long sleeves of his rich blue pampas-grass print summer jōfu, it is much harder to say what he wants to. His mind keeps chasing itself in circles.
He should just talk. Izuna listens, it won't matter if he's a bit incoherent.
"Please tell me what's upsetting you, Treasure," Izuna requests, gently taking his hand and rubbing her thumb across his palm. "I want to help."
Tobirama takes a breath. "I don't want to see Keigetsu," he says, cringing at how that sounds but unwilling to stop because he's talking now and if he stops he's not going to find any words at all ever, "because seeing her will make it real."
That wis a terrible explanation. Tobirama gropes for more words but his brain is giving him nothing to work with.
"Hn." Izuna sounds… considering. "It will make it real that you left a baby up a tree in the middle of winter."
"Yes."
Izuna lets go of his hand so as to wrap her arm around his shoulders, then grips his fingers again with her other hand. "What do you want to do, Treasure?"
"I can't, avoiding it won't help," Tobirama forges on, awkward but reassured that Izuna isn't condemning him out of hand for not wanting to keep his promise, "so I shouldn't, but, not when Kiso's here."
"That's completely reasonable. In a few days' time perhaps, when Kiso is next away all afternoon? I can collect her while she's sleeping, so you can see her without needing to interact at all."
Tobirama breathes. That would be. Good, he thinks? A sleeping baby so he can just look at her, and if necessary run away and hide without making a spectacle of himself. And an entire afternoon gives him space to process in.
Izuna doesn't count as an audience; she's seen him weep and vomit and tremble incoherently with lust and has also been the target of more violence than he quite cares to remember. There's no point trying to maintain a façade; she can see right through it.
"I would appreciate that."
His wife kisses the side of his neck. "Do you want to talk about it more now, or?"
Tobirama squeezes her fingers; he does not particularly want to talk about it, no. "I read 'The Peony Pavilion' yesterday," he says instead.
"Did you enjoy it, Treasure?" He can hear Izuna grinning at him.
"It was very engaging," Tobirama says blandly. "How did my Lord-Wife come by a fan with that particular theme?"
She hums, head resting on his shoulder. "Well, I attended a performance of the play! And the actor playing the young hero just so happened to be an old acquaintance, and he introduced me to the rest of the cast and also gave me some promotional material to keep. Including several prints featuring various cast-members, and that fan. I also have a peony, stone lantern and grass print kimono somewhere; it's cut for a man, you'd look very good in it."
"I'm sure you would think so," Tobirama says dryly, amused despite the clear evidence that Izuna not only spends time with geisha and oiran, but actors and other entertainers of dubious repute as well. "They were gifts, not bought?"
Izuna lifts her head and turns so her lips brush his ear. "I was his alibi once," she murmurs quietly, hot breath teasing Tobirama's skin, "and so every time I encounter him he insists on giving me things and introducing me to people."
Tobirama deduces easily that Izuna had not been with the actor in question at the time when the alibi was required; she had in fact quite possibly been committing the crime he was being suspected of. "Interesting people, at least?"
"Oh yes," his wife agrees cheerfully. "Very interesting! Though I believe some of them would flirt rather less if they realised I was a woman."
Tobirama chuckles; he's heard other kinsmen talking –and occasionally complaining– about actors before, and that point has come up on various occasions. He's never experienced it personally, but then again he can recognise he's not very approachable for civilians.
"Did you have a favourite section?" His wife asks teasingly, nudging him.
"Of 'The Peony Pavilion'?" Tobirama specifies. "I enjoyed the chain of personal connections that led to the hero's release." They'd even been hinted at in the heroine's dream as pre-existing social bonds, which had been very clever indeed. The hero's sister is on good terms with an older cousin, who is one of the emperor's concubines, so when the hero is imprisoned for grave-robbery by the heroine's father, the sister sends a message to her cousin, who in turn sends a respected doctor to ascertain the heroine's good health and testify before the emperor that she is not dead. Thus the hero is released and the two protagonists are able to marry, presumably to then go on and enjoy a life similar to the one dreamt of in the first half of the book.
The terrible doctor who misdiagnosed the heroine was disgraced and lost all his clients, which had been extremely enjoyable to read about.
"That part is very good," Izuna agrees, "though the earlier versions don't have it, I don't think; there it's more 'the emperor steps in, everyone rejoices.' But later authors felt that wasn't good enough and elaborated on the ending."
"It's a very good ending," Tobirama repeats firmly. He wouldn't have enjoyed it so much had the emperor just set everything to rights, rather than the secondary characters getting to prove their value and relevance.
"Hm." She kisses his neck, just above his collar and close enough to the lingering bruise there to give him a tender shiver of sensation. "Seeing as the Aburame will be arriving tomorrow, would my treasure be pleased to receive his painted kimono today?"
"I would enjoy that," Tobirama decides, "especially if my Lord-Wife were also to make tea." The talk went easier than he thought it would, and Izuna has set the time for the confrontation with the infant after the required meeting with their expected kuge visitors. He appreciates that very much; it lets him devote his focus on one thing at a time, rather than needing to juggle both at once.
"Then we shall have tea, and I shall present you with the last of what your pride has bought you," his wife teases him, nibbling on his ear. Tobirama elbows her half-heartedly, the sensation of her lips and teeth against the sensitive tissue sending heated shivers through him.
"My wife teases me."
"My treasure has shown repeatedly that he very much enjoys being teased," she replies sweetly, then licks the sensitive spot just behind the hinge of his jaw. Tobirama twists to face her and grapples with her, knocking her down and rolling them both across the tatami in a playful wrestling match punctuated with heated kisses.
He eventually pins her under him, not that she was fighting very hard. "I would enjoy undressing you and pleasuring you right here, right now," he murmurs, looking her directly in the eyes from barely a handspan away, "but I want my new clothes first. Then," he smirks down at her, "I can express my appreciation at length afterwards." She smells amazing and he's not sure if that's due to him being a lustful smitten fool or something relating to her pregnancy, but either way he wants her. Wants that scent all over him, and to find out how much more delicious it becomes when mingled with her pleasure.
"My treasure wishes to have his wicked way with my body in my music room," Izuna says, voice breathy and chakra heated. "Your attentions would be inspiring, Tobirama."
He kisses her, taking his time and gently rocking his body against hers. "I will take my chances with your musical profanity," he tells her upon pausing for breath, unable to keep either his desire or his amusement out of his voice, "but I want my kimono first."
"So demanding," Izuna complains mildly, eyes dancing and chakra playful as she strokes his jaw. "But I do very much enjoy indulging you, Treasure."
"Well you can indulge me with tea," he teases her back, rolling off her, "then with expensive clothing, then with your naked body, pliant and trembling under me as I pin you to the tatami."
"My treasure wishes to impale me on his sword," his wife quips, also rolling up into a sitting position and theatrically eyeing his groin, "I may scream."
Tobirama smirks. "Please do; your desperation is music to my ears."
She shakes her head at him, grinning. "Tea first, then."
"Tea first," he agrees, leaning in for one last quick kiss before she gets up to leave the room in search of the promised drink and gifts.
Tea arrives with kusa daifuku; nominally two each, but Tobirama only eats one and actively places his second on his wife's plate. He knows now that her metabolism is higher than his and she is pregnant besides; watching her face light up as she realises he is serious about giving it to her is a joy.
"So, in what order would you like to receive your painted kimono, Treasure?"
Tobirama thinks about it. "By obi, I think," he decides whimsically. "Give me an obi, then the outfit that goes with it. Or outfits, if there's more than one."
"Very well then." His wife hands him one of the smaller but more solid-looking parcels.
Given that a painted kimono is inevitably a tomesode or visiting-wear, Tobirama is expecting a higher calibre of obi than the ones he received with his other summer kimono. Folding back the washi proves his expectations met: what is revealed is very lovely damask, nowhere near as sumptuously fine as his brocade obi –being a single layer with a plain weft and various different colours in the warp creating the designs– but almost as long. The pattern is of an arched bridge bracketed by willows alternating with an eight-plank bridge surrounded by irises, with the intervening space featuring clouds above that blend into waves below the next pattern set. The warp-threads are undyed silk –and thus so is the pattern background– but the bridges are simple shades of brown, the willows are willow-coloured, the irises have purple flowers and the water and clouds include shades of pale blues and greys.
It's a very lovely obi that will go well with several of his other summer kimono, increasing the formality of the overall outfit with minimal actual effort. The obi cords are equally lovely, a deep iron-blue.
"This is very fine," he says, setting the obi cords aside and laying the obi across his lap pattern-side up, "but is it intended to be tied in a hanging knot?" It looks long enough to be.
"Well, painted kimono are generally visiting-wear, Treasure," his wife says lightly, "so signalling is required. But I can teach you a few slightly less feminine hanging knots that you can tie yourself for these."
"I look forward to it." Tobirama carefully folds up the lovely obi again, surreptitiously running his fingertips over the clever pattern one more time before setting it aside. His wife promptly passes across a larger package.
Opening it reveals a fine linen nagajuban, bleached white –confirming that yes, it being bleached does enhance the transparency– and printed with clusters of slightly abstract morning glory flowers in the shade of purple called 'half-colour', because it requires half as much murasaki root as 'full' colour does. It's very beautiful and ridiculously expensive; his wife again using the most precious of dyes on something he will be wearing next to his skin.
And this isn't even silk; that's almost worse.
"And now I am curious what kimono my wife has chosen for me to wear over this," he muses, setting aside the under-layer and its matching lightweight sash.
Izuna hands him a fresh parcel –this one wrapped in a blue and white bird-print furoshiki– then pours them both more tea and picks up her plate with its gifted daifuku, watching him avidly as she takes a bite.
Opening the furoshiki reveals blue. Water Country concubine-blue in fact; the vivid cyan is unmistakeable. Unfolding the leno-weave gauze across his lap reveals a multitude of beautifully detailed sailing boats in cheerful colour, no two the same and a lively mix of shapes and styles, interspersed with very thin ripples that add depth and texture to the scene. Tobirama shakes the garment out completely, eyes darting across the stylised flotilla with its clearly recognisable Water Country shuinsen, kitamae-bune from Sea Country, taru-kaisen from Fire's south coast, the instantly-recognisable asymmetric red sails and carved figureheads of Uzumaki fishing boats and many more less familiar shapes.
A bustling harbour of a kimono, brilliant and vivid. Tobirama can almost forgive the clearly-signalled status colour of the background and the hanging sleeves, which look to be the same length as the pampas-grass print kimono he is currently wearing.
Actually that's a lie; he's already forgiven Izuna for those choices. This is a very lovely kimono, and it being that shade of blue means he will be able to get away with not wearing a hanging obi with it if he wants to; the greenfinch obi would not look out of place, in fact, and neither would his black obi.
Or, indeed, the murasaki shibori one.
He lets his eyes linger on the boats again, sailing across the kimono skirt is a faintly triangular sweep from left front to right front across the back, and over the left chest, right upper back and hanging sleeves. Shades of brown, yellow, green, red and white are most prominent, standing out strongly against the rippling blue ground, but there are hints of dark blue here and there and flashes of both purple and deep black.
"This is magnificent," he says, looking up to meet his wife's eyes. "I will very much enjoy wearing it, so look forward to having more occasions to do so."
"I am sure such occasions will arise, Treasure," Izuna says lightly, her delight in his enjoyment explicit in her chakra. Tobirama carefully folds the kimono back up again and shuffles closer so as to catch and lightly kiss her fingers as he accepts the next parcel.
This linen nagajuban is a very pale shade of blue, which also draws attention to said garment's transparency. Unfolding it slightly reveals it is printed with hydrangea flowers in peony pink, the large clusters of blossoms bracketed by bright grass-green leaves. It's very aesthetic and seasonally appropriate, although it will only be just-about visible at his collar and sleeve-cuffs.
"I am now very curious about what outer layer is intended to go over this," Tobirama muses as he folds the nagajuban up again. It will likely be in a complimentary shade rather than a contrasting one but that does not narrow the field by much, even if he excludes those shades she has already given him summer kimono in.
His wife smiles cheerfully as she hands over another package. "Well then Treasure, wonder no more!"
Folding back the washi, the first thing Tobirama sees is purple. Not murasaki though, thankfully; this is a much bluer and brighter purple. Hollyhock purple, maybe? One of those other purples, anyway. Unfolding the mesh-weave silk reveals very pale grey fishing-nets painted large over large sections of the kimono, highlighted here and there in silver, overlapping and interspersed with very dark green freshwater algae –also occasionally highlighted in lighter green and silver– and an impressively realistic range of eels, catfish and loach, all in bright shades of brown that stand out surprisingly well against the purple. Some of the fish are swimming free, but most are behind the nets; none are actually entangled though, as that would not be aesthetic.
Looking more closely, Tobirama realises that some of the fish have embroidered accents beyond the silver highlights; details picked out here and there, adding to the startling realism of the design.
It will go well enough with the bridge obi –the shades of brown are very similar, and the motifs are not repeated between the two– but Tobirama feels that a different obi could easily look better. However this outfit very likely does not conform with the sumptuary restrictions regarding concubines –the only one of which he is subject to is the requirement to signal his status– so he would have to wear a long dangling obi with it.
"This kimono is a masterpiece; I look forward to showing it off." It even has fairly modest hanging sleeves, no longer than the sakura dragon kimono.
"I look forward to seeing you in it, Treasure."
Well, his crab obi might well be long enough to tie in a hanging knot?
Izuna's chakra is bright and warm as he takes his time poring over the intricately realistic detail on the shading, both painted and embroidered, so Tobirama feels no inclination to rush himself. He drinks his tea –it is cool enough now– and then goes back to admiring the use of colour to create the illusion of shape and texture.
Then he remembers that Izuna promised him three kimono –and that he has promised to have sex with her before Kiso returns for lunch– and reluctantly folds the summer-weight silk garment up again.
"I will admire it again later," he says firmly, "but I have other gifts to open if I am to have to the time to keep my promises to you, Izuna."
"Well then, who am I to delay you," his wife says, wiggling her eyebrows at him. Tobirama smirks back at her as he accepts the most solid –and heavy– of the remaining parcels and sets about opening it.
It is, as he suspected, an obi. However it is a full-width lined obi, no less long than the bridge damask and with very different patterns on each side. One side is almost plain, a sakura-grey ground printed with dove-grey waving lines in a tatewaku pattern, the lines perfectly staggered to form ovoid gaps.
The other side is however vastly more colourful: a light onion-leaf blue-green ground painted with very fine white outlines of tachibana blossoms and leaves here and there, with regular 'openings' in the tree canopy coloured ibis-wing pink and filled with light-coloured lotuses, magnolias, plum-blossoms and thin-petalled chrysanthemums, along with a scattering of brightly patterned kaoi shells and vivid birds. Working his way along the very long obi, Tobirama manages to identify a crested kingfisher, a hoopoe, a fairy pitta, a green pigeon, a waxwing, a trio of bluetails, an oriole and a rosefinch, but there are a handful of other small birds in variously patterned brown that could be any number of things.
It's much easier to identify a bird by its call than by its plumage when it's just shades of brown.
"This will look lovely with my new purple summer visiting kimono," Tobirama says eventually; "rather more lovely than the bridge obi will, although that will also work." The obi cords are a delicate washed-out orange, which will go well with this obi regardless of what kimono he is wearing under it.
Izuna nods. "The purple kimono will indeed go with both your new obi," she concedes, "but the bridge obi will in truth go well with all your new summer kimono, while this one does not quite work with the bright blue."
Tobirama can see that, although the more sober lining of this obi would look perfectly fine over his new boat-painted kimono. Then again, this particular new obi would probably look completely lovely on any of his other kimono, with the possible exception of his fish kimono; it would lift the plainer outfits when worn painted-side out, then be more modestly effacing when worn reversed. It is possibly his most versatile obi yet –except for the black one, which truly goes with everything– and that has certain implications when it is long enough to tie in the concubine-required hanging knot for being seen in public.
Then again, given what Izuna has said about how she has no intention of revealing he is her concubine…
Tobirama shakes his head; he's going to have to ask about that later. However it's likely tangled up in the 'husband' issue, so he'd probably do better to wait until Izuna has answered that, in case she clarifies this as well in passing.
"It will also look very fine with almost all my other kimono," he adds, smiling at his wife. "I look forward to having opportunities to wear it."
Izuna beams at him, her tattoo crinkling, then passes him the penultimate package.
This nagajuban is bright saffron yellow resist-printed with lilies and bellflowers, some of which have then been filled in with –Tobirama's lips twitch– bellflower blue. It's very cheerful and could probably be worn under the boat-painted kimono as well. Amusingly, being yellow means the translucency of the fine linen is much less obvious.
Folding it back up, Tobirama eyes the last parcel where it sits innocuously by Izuna's thigh. There are a lot of different colours it could be, considering; he wonders which one it will be.
His wife flutters her eyelashes theatrically at him before handing over the last of his bribes; he is now entirely without pride, having sold it for summery silks and fine linen.
Tobirama opens the washi; he may as well finish finding out what his wife feels his pride is worth.
The kinsha chirimen of this summer kimono is a vivid maple-leaf red, lovingly painted with curving grasses and other autumnal plants in a very subtly asymmetric sweep, the design reaching right up the back in places, with further grasses and flowers across the shoulders and over the hanging sleeves. The sleeves are actually no longer than the ones on the purple kimono; hanging, but not enough to be explicitly feminine.
The painted decoration is very bright, but also very harmonious: white and yellow grasses, yellow-green and blue-green flowering plants with white and occasionally deep blue flowers, more grasses and leaves in deep red-browns in the background to convey a sense of depth, all scattered with fireflies lit up in a very light washed-out orange to give the impression of an autumn sunset.
Autumn colours and plants are very aesthetic for summer wear, harking forwards to cooler days to come, and despite the vivid contrasts this kimono will look excellent with his new long double-sided obi. It will also, as Izuna indicated, look very fine with the bridge obi, but in a completely different way.
A rich, vivid kimono contrasting with a pale obi belongs to a colour scheme called tamayura, which is intended to impart a sense of strength in transience. Both this and the purple summer kimono match this aesthetic, no matter which of his new obi he wears with them. Strength in transience is a very shinobi idea, as well as a very summery one; Tobirama decides he likes the thought that his wife has put into his new wardrobe.
"My wife has not stinted in her choices," he says as he folds the red kimono up again.
"My Treasure does not feel cheated?" Izuna inquires archly, having produced a folding fan to hide her arch smirk behind; hiding her mouth in no way conceals the set of her brows or the glee in her chakra.
"I feel my Lord-Wife fully appreciates the value of my pride," Tobirama replies mildly as he finishes folding up the garment and sets it aside. "Now I should put these in my tansu, so they do not get crumpled while I am expressing my appreciation."
Izuna flutters her fan theatrically. "Is there anything you would have me do in the meantime, Tobirama?"
"Move the tea-tray," he tells her with a smirk of his own as he piles up his well-earned bribes; "I'd hate to knock anything over."