Unchained
The bird summons with the ribbons on its ankles signaling a clan-wide gathering is unexpected, and when Tōka arrives at the central meeting area with her battered sparring partners –who should have known better than to talk about her like that if they wanted to keep their bones whole and unbruised– finding that her father has called the meeting is even more so.
He's wearing a black armband over his armour, and Obaasan is standing next to him in mofuku, head bowed. Kaa-san is there too, also in plain black morning garb, and Yagura and Zōden flank them with grave faces, armed and armoured with mourning bands on their arms. Who's dead?
Her uncle is nowhere to be seen; Tōka feels a chill of foreboding as she looks around for Hashirama. Mito is standing off to one side with the other aunties, also dressed in black, but her demeanour is more smug than distressed. Her head is bowed and her face bland, but there's something in the set of her shoulders that says she's very pleased with this outcome.
She spots Ōka-ba and pushes her way through the crowd towards her; Obasan will know, the medics always know.
"Oba-san?"
"Tōka," her aunt hugs her, quick and surprising, then murmurs in her ear, "My oldest brother is dead; murdered. Your father says Shitomi-san did it but I remain unconvinced; come by the morgue later."
"Hai, Oba-san," Tōka says automatically, reeling internally. It's only been two days! She'd been planning on borrowing armour from an aunt –Tanka-ba maybe; they have similar builds– and making her Challenge tomorrow or the day after at the very latest, but somebody has beaten her to it and not even bothered to make it legal.
Shitomi isn't here; no doubt dead already, a loose end neatly tied off. Nobody here to naysay her father's story, whatever it may be, and Ōka-ba already doesn't think it's very likely. This is…
Hashirama's right; this is going to dig fissures into the clan. But at least they might all be alive to mend them, in time.
Hashirama appears around a building; Rika-ba corners him at once, and Tōka turns away so as not to witness her cousin's bewildered grief at the loss of his father. Instead she walks up to her mother, who moves sideways so that Tōka can stand between her parents, in the heir position.
Her father is Clan Head; she is going to inherit the clan, not Hashirama. Hashi could Challenge her for it if he wanted to, but now she can see how no matter how strong her cousin is and how invincible on the battlefield, he'd make a terrible leader for the clan. Maybe if Tobirama was here to back him up he'd do better, but she knows her cousins: Hashi doesn't exactly listen to Tobi unless he feels the situation is more complex than he can cope with. If he thinks he does know what's going on, he doesn't listen.
And Hashirama is terrible with etiquette.
Tōka puts on a calm, solemn face and curses Izuna in her heart. This is not what she wanted! And yet, it's unpleasantly likely that this is what Tobirama's damn twisty-minded Lord-Wife was hoping for.
She's not even here, and still Uchiha Izuna is bending the Senju according to her wishes. Tōka is going to have to put a lot of work in to match that level of political awareness in order to give the Senju something to work with; she's not looking forward to any of it, but at least she'll be able to read all the official documentation in the clan archives now.
Well, probably just most of it; Obaasan can teach her the rest.
Tōka lets herself into the back door of the morgue, shivering briefly and grateful for her chakra. The seals on the building keep it cool and it's between the medical hall and the temple; convenient for funerals. But it's not a nice place to be, and after her Uchiha sojourn Tōka can't help wondering if the chill is entirely natural. A nice exorcism on the place would be good for her peace of mind.
The morgue's much cleaner than usual; evidently the medics have been making use of the free time granted by the lack of ongoing warfare to have a good thorough scrub of everywhere under their aegis, in preparation for the next round of fighting.
There's always a next round of fighting, after all. Always has been. Not always with the Uchiha, either.
"Over here, Tōka-chan."
Tōka obediently trudges in between the empty stone slabs, stopping next to her aunt. On these two slabs, separated by a vacant one currently occupied by papers and neatly folded plain white clothing for the upcoming burial, are the bodies of her uncle and Shitomi.
Her uncle, headless; Shitomi, in about ten pieces.
"Well, at least there's no doubt about who did Shitomi in," she mutters; the wounds left by Yagura's chain-whip are highly distinctive. A very messy death too; Tōka feels for whoever is having to clean up the mess of blood and viscera that will have been left behind, as well as for whichever poor medic has to piece him back together for burial.
"You say that, Tōka-chan," Ōka-ba says quietly, "but I'm not entirely sure he was alive when Yagura did that."
Oh. Lovely. Another layer of conspiracy; is Yagura covering for her father, or for someone else? Is her father covering for someone else –like her mother maybe– and enlisted Yagura into his scheme?
"And my esteemed uncle?"
"Was alive when he was decapitated," Ōka concedes grudgingly, "but I'm not convinced he would have lived many more moments beyond that unless he was much better at healing himself than he ever let on. Look at his hands."
Tōka looks down; despite the laxity supposedly provided in the immediate aftermath of death, the corpse's fists are clenched. "Poison?"
"All medicines are poisons, Tōka-chan, and we grow too many of them to notice somebody helping themselves if they don't actually raid the processed stores directly." Ōka-ba sighs. "Poison nut flowers are not much less toxic that the seeds themselves, and the strychnine they contain doesn't even have to be eaten; breathed in is enough."
Tōka feels cold. "You think somebody poisoned my uncle." Ōka-ba's brother.
Her aunt bows her head. "My only hope is that it wasn't our mother," she says quietly. "Okaa-sama is a Transportation specialist after all, and her teachings have greatly enhanced my understanding of the body's systems and functions. But fuuinjutsu makes it terribly easy to introduce a foreign element to the body unbeknownst to the victim."
The thought of Obaa-chan killing Butsuma, her son… Tōka feels queasy. It would be so easy for her too, all the more so for her uncle not expecting it of his mother. Fuuinjutsu takes skill and precision, but there are easier ways to poison people. Was her uncle aware of the desperation and violence he had incited by refusing to treat with the Uchiha? Or was he his usual self in assuming that any move against him would be a Challenge and easily put down? "Wasn't Mito-san trying to branch out from her own specialty a bit?"
Ōka-ba nods. "Mito-chan specializes in Containment, or barriers as most people call it. There are apparently some interesting and useful overlaps with Transportation, particularly in the area of sealing scrolls, but I haven't really been following what my mother and my niece-in-law have been getting up to there over their twice-weekly working afternoons."
"So, in theory, Mito could have poisoned Uncle several hours before he started showing symptoms, so as to arrange an alibi for herself."
"In theory," Ōka-ba agrees mildly. "Your mother also has the motive and the means, as well as the good sense to wear someone else's face while achieving her goal."
"Don't remind me." Kaa-san was born a Kurama, and while Tōka is following diligently in her father's footsteps onto the battlefield, her mother has ensured her only daughter knows enough of poisons to neither kill herself while foraging nor be taken unawares while eating on a mission. Tōka hadn't realized most of her cousins didn't get that kind of education until she was old enough to lead on larger missions, and found herself having to save kinsmen's lives off the battlefield as well as on it. Well save their stomachs at least, and then teach them the basics for themselves; she isn't going to cook for them.
"And of course we cannot discount any other clansmen; poison nut is a well-known toxin," Ōka-ba continues tiredly, "and after my brother's latest idiotic choices there are many with a personal grudge. Well, there was honestly no shortage before, but the Uchiha confrontation means that many could have decided this was the perfect moment for revenge, as his death would not have instantly condemned the clan. Quite the reverse, in fact." She sighs. "I am not even sure that the one who did it was an adult; we teach children about the perils of poison nut, and it is easy enough to taint a cup or bowl before a meal."
Yes, they do teach the children that. However there is also the issue of access; the suspect must be able to get into and out of the Clan Hall's kitchen without creating suspicion. That narrows things down less than it might; Uncle being a widower with no daughters –seeing as Keika disinherited herself– leaves his care and feeding to Obaasan, who has delegated it to a collection of kinswomen whom Mito supervises more directly. Those kinswomen are in turn supported by their own friends, siblings and children; it's a far longer list than it might be.
Given the implication that Shitomi was also poisoned, there might well be more tainted dishware hiding in the cupboards; if whoever did this was young, they might not have thought to clean up after themselves.
"So Otou-san and Yagura might just have walked in on a murder scene and decided to tidy up the narrative, so as to clarify the succession and keep the clan from tearing itself apart looking for the perpetrator." Her clan is not one to promote intellectual rational thought –as Tobi has deplored so often– and it wouldn't do to cause a panic. Though she will have to suggest everything in the Hall's kitchen be thoroughly washed, for her own peace of mind at the very least.
"I am not looking too closely, Tōka-chan," Ōka-ba agrees quietly. "The funeral will be in two days' time and I am sure your father will be writing to the Uchiha as soon as he may, to assure them that we are willing to make reparations for the harm done to Tobirama-kun."
That is almost shamefully reassuring. Tōka really shouldn't feel this glad about her uncle's death, but she's also well aware that the only reason her uncle is dead is that he wasn't willing to negotiate with the Uchiha. If he had been, he'd still be alive.
Not quite killed by his own unreasonable loathing of all things Uchiha, but almost. The irony is as sharply-edged as all the other blades Izuna has proven to keep under her tongue.
It's raining, her uncle's funeral is tomorrow and Tōka, infuriatingly, finds herself missing the man. She hasn't liked him for a good decade, but he's always been there and the absence is somehow grating.
The burial is tomorrow; today is for mourning privately, for remembering and for commemorating. Hashirama is no doubt with Mito, having sake poured into him as he cries and remembers the father who smiled sometimes and praised his achievements with his mokuton and on the battlefield.
Tōka is sitting with her father, aunts and older cousins, remembering a slightly different man.
"He used to give shoulder rides, when Ranma and Misuma were still around," Kūrinma-ji says hoarsely, taking a large gulp of sake. Kūrinma had been age-mates with Misuma, barely weeks apart in age and completely inseparable until a patch of black ice and a rock in exactly the wrong place had stolen the second-youngest of the children of her uncle's first marriage away. A most inauspicious start to the year that had killed Ranma in the late spring, then Kikuno-ba and the daughter she was trying to bring into the world in the autumn.
"I caught him laughing at you, Misuma and Kyōzoma running rings around Harima when you were seven," Keika says thickly, staring into space. "Nii-san all smug about having been a warrior for a year now, taken down by three babies. And Tou-san hiding behind a tree, trying not to laugh too loudly."
Keika had disowned her father after the debacle over Tobirama which drove Kikuno-ba to shun her husband for five years, moving in with Ōka-ba, but that hadn't meant she'd stopped caring about her father and brothers; she'd just needed to save herself from the conflict that tore the family in half and that her step-mother's death so soon after the tentative reconciliation had prevented from ever truly healing.
"He looked at Kaika-nee like he couldn't quite believe she was real, like she was too good to be happening to him," Tōka's father says quietly, staring at the table. "Eight years of dizzying joy, of gentleness and more patience and hope that I ever thought him capable of, even through our father's death, and then," he shakes his head. "He was never the same again. He tried, for Kaika's sons and for Kikuno-nee, even through that terrible fight they had over Tobirama-kun, but when they all died save for Hashirama-kun," he shakes his head. "I don't think he survived that year either, not really."
Rika-ba snorts. "Didn't ever try to get to know his younger sons," she mutters, taking a swallow of her own sake. "Never commented once on Tobirama being flighty about eye-contact, which he made a big fuss over when the boy was two, because he didn't want to see Kikuno-nee's eyes judging him from her favourite son's face."
"Never spoke his wives' names again," her father murmurs, deep voice aching with sorrow. "Got angry when anybody else mentioned them either; I've never talked about Kaika-nee to Hashirama-kun and I should have. But he'd have asked his father about her, and that wouldn't have gone well for either of us."
"No caution and all heart," Ōka-ba says distantly. "Be an excellent medic, like his mother was; makes for a terrible warrior though."
"Like he was going to be allowed to do anything else, with that gift," Rika-ba scoffs. "Or was ever going to ask for something that might have disappointed his father. Well, more than his obsession with peace had already; that's ideological, not practical. Boy's all his father there, not seeing that thinking and talking aren't enough and you have to do."
"And whose fault is that?" Ōka-ba asks dryly. Rika-ba sags and takes some yakitori; Butsuma-ji being clan head means everybody's put a lot of effort into mourning him, even though they're probably going to miss the eggs the chickens sacrificed for this meal might have produced later in the year.
Tōka takes some more yakitori as well; no sense in wasting it. Normally they'd be mourning outside with the rest of the clan, but it's really raining hard and the clan shrine isn't big enough. It's not appropriate to ask Hashirama to put up a tree pavilion when he is the primary mourner, so everybody's huddling indoors.
Also they can't use the shrine, because Shitomi is being buried without ceremony today so his family are there burning incense and saying their goodbyes to the 'murderer' of the previous clan head as the current one politely turns a blind eye to their grief.
At least Shitomi didn't have children; his siblings and nieces and nephews are suffering yes, but her father has made it clear the clan is not to hold this against them. His life was sufficient for his 'treason' and retribution will go no further.
It's bad enough that they've lost their family's largest earner; some of those nephews might well get pushed onto the battlefield early if they don't get peace with the Uchiha, provided they even survive whatever restitution Izuna is going to demand. If Tobirama were here he'd be offering them extra training.
Tobirama's not here, but Tōka is Clan Heir now and she can do that. She can even talk to her father about it after the funeral and see if they can maybe make training the older children more organised, what with the clan's warriors no longer being entirely engrossed in missions and training for the battlefield. If they pay those warriors who take the time to impart education, all the better, although Tōka has no idea where the money would come from.
Maybe Kaa-san can help. Or Obaasan. She'll ask. It's for the clan's future, after all, so it's important.
Maybe with something to do, she'll feel less irritable about missing her uncle at all when his last act was attempting the murder of his own son.
On the morning of the funeral her father wakes her early.
"Daughter. I need you to help me write to the Uchiha."
"Yes, Tou-san." Her father knows she knows a lot more about the formalities than he does, courtesy of her imprisonment and helping Tobi wrestle with the legal code. Never mind the thrice-cursed etiquette guide; Tōka still dreams about that gods-awful thing. She's tempted to write out those passages just so she can burn them, but the truth is that the information is genuinely useful. So she's probably going to end up writing it down to keep, instead. Which stings.
She never used to have nightmares about finding herself at court in her Senju kimono and hakama, standing before the daimyo and horribly aware of being shamefully, insultingly under-dressed.
Her mother brings breakfast to the Clan Hall as Tōka and her father –now the Senju Head– go over wording and proper forms of address, Yagura fetching specific documents from the clan's archive and Obaasan joining them an hour and a half later to help turn the final draft in katakana into proper kanji.
Tōka discovers that some of the characters she learnt from the Uchiha Legal Code are new even to her grandmother; the realisation makes her die inside a little. But by mid-morning the letter is neatly written –third attempt and much scrap paper spent demonstrating the new kanji to Obaasan, who has the neatest hand– so all that is left is delivering it.
"A professional messenger, for the first letter at least," her father says firmly, pressing the clan seal over the edge of the scroll. "Then we shall see, depending on the means the Uchiha choose to deliver a reply."
"So long as it's not the Vengeful Ghost again," Yagura murmurs wryly, making Tōka snort.
"Yes, anything but that." Hopefully it will be a crow delivery; that will give the Senju the precedent to formally send a bird summons without anybody risking their contract.
"Maybe Madara-san will bring it," Kaa-san suggests sweetly, "so you can take tea with him again, daughter."
Tōka groans loudly. "Kaa-san, I said already it wasn't like that!"
"You complemented his singing voice, Tōka-chan," her mother says mildly, eyes dancing. "I know what that means, dear; I've always felt your father has a very pleasant voice."
Why did she tell her mother about Madara's singing voice? Or that he'd kindly indulged her with a discussion on weapon trajectories while Izuna and Tobirama were flirting over breakfast that time? Her mother had instantly picked up that she'd found having broken legs and limited available activities frustrating in more ways than the obvious and expertly coaxed considerably more incriminating details out of her than she'd quite realised she was giving away, then turned around and teased her about them!
It isn't fair to tease! She doesn't even like Madara like that –and he is certainly not remotely interested in her– he just has a very pleasant singing voice. A nice speaking voice too, when he isn't roaring on the battlefield like a lunatic.
Izuna's team-mate Jakuchi has an even nicer speaking voice, deep and rich and, um. Tōka had needed to remind herself very firmly that he was married and also the enemy.
She has never felt like that before in her life; it was like her body had decided that the physical inactivity combined with being surrounded by near-total strangers meant it was going to drive her out of her mind with lust at random moments carefully chosen for maximum awkwardness. It was also the worst possible time to realise that she ranks attractiveness by voice first, then appearance second.
It had been bad enough before the pillow book, honestly. But Tōka has always been a person to hear story characters talking in her head, and the voices her brain has assigned to certain of the pillow book's main characters is… awkward.
Tobirama's voice is lower and smoother than she'd realised, now she knows what he sounds like when he's not stressed or trying to shout over Hashirama. It's even lower when he's sweet-talking Izuna in the bedroom, and Tōka has been sadly unable to avoid overhearing a lot of that. And so her traitor brain has assigned her little cousin's voice to one of the characters in the pillow book.
At least she'd managed not to tell Kaa-san that part.
"He was respectful, and treated me like a person, not baggage," she says again. "Even though I was stuck with two broken legs, and he took me seriously as a warrior despite the likelihood of my never fighting ever again hanging over me. I can appreciate that –and his singing voice– and not be attracted to him."
"Of course you can, dear."
Tōka growls and leaves the room to find Tokyōma. Her little brother at least agrees completely that being respected by someone strong despite evident personal weakness gives you a warm feeling that is nothing to do with physical desire. Or the person in question also having a very pleasant speaking voice.
It's a bit painful really, that it took being abducted and stuck in a comfortable but unrelenting confinement for two months with broken legs and then escaping in stolen clothes for her to understand her little brother better. Tōka feels like a terrible big sister; Tokyōma was difficult for her to relate to, and so she all but abandoned him in favour of her warrior cousins.
He is now much less hard to understand; enforced helplessness and watching Tobirama show different facets of himself to placate and please his wife –who has absolute power of life and death over him even now– has taught her much. Tokyōma's wariness when she started a conversation with him at the dinner table on her first day back in the house had hurt, but she's apologised repeatedly for her stupidity since then, so things are a bit better. She's missed her little brother.
Tōka can't focus on a spar right now, not when she is on tenterhooks waiting for a reply to the letter to the Uchiha, so she is sitting in her little brother's workroom at the far end of the Medical Hall, whiling the afternoon away watching him make salves, poultices and medicines. Being handed a mortar and pestle and being told 'grind that' is something she can do while her mind is entirely elsewhere, so it's even productive. Feeling useful helps.
Her brother's also a good listener, and unlike their mother does not tease her over her recent and uncomfortable realisation that she is attracted to men with pleasant voices. Well, not excessively; he wouldn't be Tokyōma if he didn't tease at all, but he keeps it light and actually funny, and doesn't insinuate things about Madara or the other Uchiha who precipitated this unfortunate revelation.
Instead her menace of a little brother is teasing her by suggesting she buy a ticket to a theatre production, so she can find a handsome singer to tumble into bed with.
"Or just to enjoy the voices, Nee-san," he adds cheekily, ducking her half-hearted swipe. "Much cheaper than paying an oiran for a 'private performance' after all, so nobody can accuse you of being extravagant with clan funds when catering to your sexual preferences."
"Oh shut up you," Tōka grumbles, grinding whatever bitter thing her brother gave her this time into paste. "Don't think I didn't notice you batting your eyelashes at Mito during your latest calligraphy lesson; got a thing for redheads, baby brother? Or is it that pregnant women make you hot under the collar?"
Tokyōma kicks her stool. "Shut up, Nee-chan!"
Tōka grins. "You really think she hasn't noticed? Give me something to work with or I'll convince her to let you down gently, Otōto."
"Do not!" he squawks, jabbing a finger at her. "It's just, she knows so much about fuuinjutsu and can do all kinds of cool stuff and I didn't know! Nobody in the clan even cares, she's just Hashirama-nii's wife to them, but she's way smarter than he is and I bet she could be just as scary on the battlefield if she could be bothered."
"And you think the red hair is pretty," Tōka insists wickedly.
Tokyōma glares sullenly. "And her hair is pretty." He agrees grudgingly, grumpy at being put on the spot.
"Well if we all survive the week, I'm sure Tou-san won't mind sending you to Uzushio for a bit," Tōka teases. "A nice alliance marriage into the new line of inheritance, to honour our coastal cousins."
"Oh stuff it." He doesn't actually object though, so Tōka makes a mental note to suggest it later.
If they get a 'later.'
It's still a good thought, she reminds herself firmly. If her brother has children then the pressure on her to marry –as a Clan Heir should– will be lessened. Bad enough that various warrior cousins are going to be eyeing her as the 'easy' way to seize leadership of the clan, no Challenge required…
"Do you miss Butsuma-oji?" Tokyōma asks abruptly, face averted as he carefully dices a bundle of roots.
"I miss who he was when we were small," Tōka replies quietly, thinking back to the short, awkward funeral service that took place immediately after lunch, followed by the public reading of the Fire Daimyo's latter of congratulation over Tobirama's marriage. Not once is the word 'concubine' mentioned, either the regular version or the Uchiha variant that denotes a male concubine, and Kurahashi-daimyo-sama actually expressed his approval of the match as a means of 'bringing an end to the longstanding differences that have plagued both your clans.' He also signed the letter personally, which makes her uncle's murder attempt against Tobirama all the more bafflingly unreasonable.
Unless he thought Tobirama got married as step one in an evil plot to become Senju clan head or something, which is so not remotely Tobirama as to be hysterical. And disappointing, if that is indeed what moved her uncle to murder.
"I don't miss the man he became when Hashi, Tobi, Tama and Wara moved into the Clan Hall after Kikuno-ba died," Tōka continues, carefully setting the mortar and pestle on the counter. "The man he was before would not have dressed a seven-year-old in armour and made him run missions, then claimed his death was 'in the service of the clan'."
Kawarama's death still hurts. She misses the little menace; despite his Senju face and cheer he'd been all Hatake in his elemental nature and he'd danced in the woods the same way Kikuno-ba did, erratic swaying and irregular steps like a drunken nature spirit.
Itama had been a spiteful little mud-monster with far too much of his father's temperament, but he'd still been kin. Nobody deserves to die at eight, and losing Tama right after Wara had almost broken Tobi. She'd thought for years it had broken him, but Izuna had somehow coaxed the real Tobi out of hiding again with boring texts, expensive silks and daily fish.
The regular sex possibly helped too; Tōka had thought she understood her little cousin before their abduction, but this whole marriage thing has made it clear that actually she doesn't have a clue. She's missed so much though assumptions and ignorance and there's so much more she needs to learn.
"That man did try to kill Tobirama when he was two though."
Tōka sighs. "Yes, he did," she agrees, "because he didn't know any better. But Kikuno-ba set him straight, and they reconciled, Tokyōma. If she'd lived–" She cuts herself off there. What-ifs aren't going to make things better.
"But she died," Tokyōma says quietly as he empties the mortar, "and he went right back to doing all the things she couldn't stand, but worse."
"He did," Tōka agrees, suddenly terribly tired. Her brother lets the silence drag; the quiet knock at the door startles both of them.
"Come in!" Tokyōma calls; the door opens revealing Zōden, their father's cousin. His wife is another Uzumaki, although Kishimi is a fisherman's daughter and has neither interest nor aptitude for fuuinjutsu. She is however very good at mathematics and throws a magnificent punch.
"We've received a reply," Zōden-ji says without preamble. "Your father wants you both to come hear it."
That doesn't sound good at all.
It isn't good. Firstly the letter's from Tajima, who Tōka did not once see during her imprisonment but heard enough about second-hand from Izuna to clearly convey that the man would very much enjoy grinding the Senju to dust under his sandals.
The tone of the letter does indeed convey a certain degree of malicious glee, although the content is actually begrudgingly businesslike. The problem is that her late and definitely unlamented uncle has sunk the Senju into a very deep hole with his poorly-conceived murder attempt, and Tajima's terms are coldly, brutally reasonable.
They will also thoroughly destroy the Senju as an independent entity, or even a nominally independent entity, while plunging them into debt for several generations, possibly forever. Yet are still reasonable, because he makes it very clear that if they agree to these terms he will not feel the need to make a complaint to the daimyo on his daughter's behalf, and is prepared to put that into writing as part of the negotiations.
"Your thoughts," Tou-san requests, looking Tōka in the eye.
"Izuna was not involved in writing this," Tōka says instantly, "and while technically he is allowed to negotiate on her behalf as Outguard Head, practically she is the one wronged, so should be involved in dictating terms. And while she may not know about our having written to negotiate yet, if we stall she will find out and the terms will be better."
"Because she's smitten with Tobirama?" Zōden asks dryly.
"No, because she's brilliant with economics and wants peace because then her clan can stop wasting money and lives fighting us," Tōka retorts sharply. "She has the means to make her clan filthy rich within the decade, so long as she doesn't have to fight us off every step of the way. She also knows her politics, so recognises that grinding us into the dirt will just breed resentment in a generation or two and make the feud start up again, because we won't have anything to lose. She wants us to benefit from peace, because that way we won't break it."
"Also, enough generations of prosperous peace and we'll lose our warrior traditions, like most of Fire Country's land-owning nobility have," Tokyōma points out. "They all used to be samurai, and now who's left? The Akimichi, who are more shinobi than samurai now. The only real warrior samurai in Fire are from minor clans who owe service to more influential families, and they mostly serve as officers in the daimyo's military."
"Still wishing to reduce the threat we pose to her clan then," Tou-san says pensively.
"Obviously," Tōka agrees; of course Izuna wants that. "But given she is rather attached to Tobirama, we can still do well out of it; peace will reduce the threat they pose to us as well."
"Your suggestion then."
"Suggest that such negotiations are best done face to face with a respected third party to arbitrate, and request a cease-fire for however long you think it will take to first agree on someone, approach them and get them to agree, plus the negotiation period," Tōka says immediately, paraphrasing the relevant section of the Uchiha Legal Code for resolving inter-clan disputes. "Or suggest a preliminary truce period that will at least get you into the negotiation period, with the option to extend 'at the arbitrator's recommendation' later if necessary. Then we at least have a formal ceasefire, and Uchiha Tajima has to defend his demands not only in front of his daughter, but also some other high-ranking member of the shinobi nobility who is invested in seeing our feud put to rest for good."
"Making it about at least looking committed to the process, not just extracting 'justice' for his new son-in-law," Kaa-san says dryly. "Yes, that would work. Who do you think the Uchiha will turn to, daughter?"
Tōka thinks about it. There's not much in the way of shinobi nobility, after all; the Akimichi, the Hyūga and the Uchiha are all she's aware of in Fire. "The Aburame are also kuge, apparently," she admits, "and they're also outside Fire, so wouldn't have an agenda with the Daimyo like the Akimichi would. There's also the Hyūga, but the Uchiha Legal Code made it clear there's longstanding friendly terms between their clans so we could argue against them on that basis."
"So claim that this is far too important to arrange by letter, request formal face to face meetings with arbitrators, suggest the Aburame," her father summarises. "And write to the Aburame ourselves, requesting they arbitrate, and say that we have done so."
Showing Tajima that he can't cow them into letting him walk over them, while also showing due respect for the process and commitment to actual resolution. "Yes, that will work; how did the letter arrive?"
"By crow summons," Yagura volunteers quietly.
Tōka nods. "Okay then, that means we can reasonably expect that if we send a reply back by bird, our messenger will not be inconvenienced. But a summons should still probably wait on the far side of the river and hail the crows first; they overlook the Uchiha compound constantly, so then even if the bird isn't allowed in, the letter can change hands and be passed on to a suitable person in sight of our messenger."
"You've put a lot of thought into this," Zōden notes mildly.
"I spent two months with broken legs, at the mercy of Tobirama's determination to fully comprehend and memorise the Uchiha Legal Code," Tōka retorts wryly. "That involved a lot of theoretical scenarios, especially after he realised the Uchiha are kuge. I think my reading speed has doubled and I know several hundred new kanji."
Zōden winces very slightly.
"A good strategy," Tou-san decides. "Daughter, help me draft a letter to the Aburame; Okaa-san, please can you fetch what you can find on their clan from the Archives; Zōden will assist you. Wife, please can you speak to the summoners, so they can put a suitable request to their allies; I will not demand this, not so soon after Sunlight-On-Water's death, but a volunteer would be appreciated."
"What about me, Tou-san?" Tokyōma asks challengingly as the room empties. Father watches him steadily from the far side of the table, hands still held behind his back. He wants to help? Then again, being suddenly thrust into the spotlight as son of the Clan Head –and not the heir– means her little brother will be facing pressures on his own. Being visibly involved in this very important negotiation will silence the gossips suggesting that he is unworthy of the clan name, so should be stripped of it.
"What do you believe will help, Tokyōma-kun?"
Her brother frowns. "I'll talk to Yuta-ba about formalwear," he decides. "We'll have to make a good showing, and that's going to be expensive since we don't have anything on the kind of level Nee-san's been talking about and we need to source it as soon as possible."
Father nods. "That's an excellent thought, Son; thank you."
Tokyōma smiles, bright, wary and delighted, and then also sees himself out to set about his self-appointed task.
Yagura is still standing at her father's shoulder, quiet and dutiful. Tōka wonders again just how involved he is in the wilful conspiracy surrounding her uncle's death, then puts the matter out of her mind; they have more urgent things to worry about.
Hashirama potters around his shed, watering his bonsai and checking on each of the miniature trees so as to see which ones need their roots trimming so they don't become pot-bound. A few of them do –he's not been paying them much attention lately, what with his fortnight-long mission then Tōka's return and, and everything else since then– so he lays them out on the table in the morning sunlight and sets about gently uprooting them, trimming them, brushing the wounds with a cleansing solution so they don't rot and then carefully replanting them, one tree at a time.
It's the young growing stages, like most of his current bonsai are in, that are the most delicate ones. A young bonsai isn't quite used to being small; they want to grow, still yearning for height and depth and breadth. It's not until they're older and more settled into themselves that they become easier to care for, simply requiring a little careful pruning or trimming every now and then. These young bonsai may yet die, unwilling or somehow unable to adapt to the limitations imposed upon them. Hashirama does his best, but sometimes the best thing he can do is give up and plant the stunted tree outdoors somewhere, giving it a boost with his chakra so it can root itself well and reach upwards towards the sun.
He doesn't usually have so many young trees to keep an eye on at once, but the ongoing lack of conflict with the Uchiha –and his own misery over Tobirama's absence then presumed-death– led him to over-commit a little, and then his father sending him off for two weeks means he has a lot of work to catch up on.
Bonsai aren't like paperwork; if he leaves them to their own devices for a few weeks they've changed in his absence, sometimes beyond the point that he can work with. When that happens he has to adjust his plans or abandon them altogether in favour of shaping what the tree has done in his absence, or else cut away the growth and hope the bonsai will recover.
Thankfully the little wisteria cutting is still in the rooting stage, not the growing and shaping stage; he couldn't bear it if he had to cut it down and it didn't survive the process. The grumpy old tree has never yielded a viable cutting before, so Hashirama really cherishes this one.
It still might not agree to let him bonsai it, but either way he's giving it to Tobi, so his little brother can have wisteria –their wisteria– even though he's living in the Uchiha compound now. It probably won't flower for a decade or so –wisteria generally doesn't, needing settling time– but it will get there eventually, and then it will be there forever, or just about.
The little willow requires rather vigorous trimming, but Hashirama isn't worried about it; willow is stubborn and intrepid, so it will survive this. The umbrella-pine he picks up next however might not do so well; pines are fussy and much slower-growing, so need much longer to recover and are more likely to struggle or fail.
He was thorough with the willow; he is more cautious about trimming the pine. The next tree is a snowbell sapling; he's never tried to bonsai one before, so he's slow and cautious with it, paying careful attention to how it responds to the process and trying to do as little as he can. He can always trim it again later; if he overdoes it now, the vibrant life in his hands will wither and fade away.
The last miniature tree that needs its roots thinning is a mock orange, which is more amenable to the bonsai process generally because it's not actually a tree; more of a shrub. Hashirama started growing this one the day after Tobirama went missing –was abducted– because the vassals call this shrub 'tobira', written with the same character as his brother's name. He has no idea why, but it felt like a prayer to have a little tobira safe and well cared-for in his bonsai shed while his brother was missing.
Except now, having had time to really think about what Tōka said about his little brother's new situation, the bonsai tobira doesn't feel so very good a thing to keep. Tobirama's being kept in a tiny house, forced to conform to it with his chakra cut down to nothing, and while it's good that he's survived this long, Hashirama doesn't think that it's good to bonsai people. And yet… it kind of sounds like that's what Izuna is doing to Tobirama. And it's working.
He sets the tobira firmly aside; he doesn't want to bonsai it anymore. Hopefully Mito can find a place for it in her garden, where it can grow to its full size and flourish properly.