Bondage
By the time Izuna's next prayer-day comes around the rains have long since stopped entirely, the hydrangeas are in full bloom and it is suffocatingly hot. Tobirama wakes before the sun –too early, but sleeping any longer would be actively uncomfortable– and enjoys the cool water waiting on his wash stand before dressing in his pink striped jōfu. It's far too early to eat, but he can enjoy the garden for an hour or so and get some reading done before the temperature and humidity rise to the point he does not want to touch things. Even breathing is uncomfortable; it is like sitting in a bathhouse thick with steam, cool enough to breathe but still thick enough to feel a little like choking.
Maybe once he adapts to the heat a little he will be comfortable in the silks again, but right now his body is vehemently protesting his 'refusal' to regulate his internal temperature with chakra and he is sweating disgustingly from late morning to early evening, drinking all the cool fluids he can get his hands on to stave off heat exhaustion.
Kiso-kun finds his daytime languid sprawling on the blessedly shady engawa on the north side of the stumpy east wing of the Amaterasu Residence utterly baffling, but seems to accept it without a qualm given that Tobirama is being very consistent about it.
"Treasure?"
Izuna is not usually up quite this early though; Tobirama sits up under the willow shading the koi pond and smiles at her. "Lord-Wife."
"You are not enjoying the summer at all, are you." It is not a question. Tobirama still answers:
"I am unused to experiencing the heat without chakra."
Izuna sits next to him, smoothing the purple kimono with the bottle-gourd print over her knees. "You are suffering, and I am the only person who can change that."
"Yes." It is the truth, and Izuna appreciates the truth in a way Anija never has, not really.
"Very well then." His wife takes a deep breath. "During the day only for now, Treasure; I do not think I will be able to sleep otherwise."
"That is fair." It is not inherently fair, but Tobirama can recognise Izuna might well struggle to sleep knowing he is able to wield chakra while she is unconscious, even with the seal on his back. If he had been stuck in here rather than in the Diplomatic Quarters for those first two months, he doubts he would have slept at all; Izuna's chakra has changed since she imprisoned him and her scent off the battlefield is very different, and that is very a large part of why he is able to be so comfortable around her.
His chakra meanwhile has not changed and, as he has recently discovered, Izuna's memory is far less forgiving than his. Tobirama stays still as his wife's fingertips skim up the back of his neck… and further up over his scalp.
So there is a seal hidden under his hair, along with the more visible one across his spine. He wonders idly what it looks like, what its exact mechanisms of function are and whether it is as dangerous as the one covering the small of his back. He already has a kami keeping watch over his behaviour; hopefully there is not another one regulating his chakra.
"You will not be able to use chakra externally, beyond the very small amount needed for water-walking," Izuna tells him as she lightly scratches the back of his head, "and I ask that you do not attempt fuuinjutsu, as my father will seize the opportunity to have me deny you your notes along with ink and chakra. But this should hopefully be enough; let me know if it is not."
The cool trickle under his skin is such a relief; Tobirama sighs happily, basking for a moment in the glorious comfort abruptly returned to him, then turns and pulls his wife in for a kiss.
"Thank you; it is perfectly sufficient." He will not be able to drag the humidity out of a room, as he usually does at this time of year to reduce the oppressiveness of the heat, but he will at least be able to cool himself down.
"I am glad; if it isn't enough we can come up with a cooling fuuinjutsu."
"Can we do that anyway?" Tobirama asks hopefully; the idea is already capturing his imagination.
"Of course we can, Treasure."
Breakfast has mushrooms in. Tobirama wouldn't comment on it, except that yesterday's lunch of cold soba was also served with mushrooms –admittedly different mushrooms– and thinking back, there have been mushrooms twice or even thrice daily for well over a week now.
He picks up a piece of mushroom between his chopsticks and turns towards Izuna. "Lord-Wife?"
She looks up at him over her own bowl. "Hn?"
"Are you craving mushrooms?" They previously featured no more or less than any other secondary ingredient –excepting fish– but now they have become a staple.
His wife pulls a face. "Yes," she says grumpily, "but I can't work out which mushrooms. Or what combination; this is very nice" –she flashes a small smile at Naka-Dragon– "and it helps, but it's not right." She sighs. "Not mushroomy enough."
"My mother used to make mushroom soup," Tobirama muses, eating his own bit of mushroom. It was good, too; probably a Hatake recipe, seeing as no other kinsman has ever been able to reproduce it to Hashirama's satisfaction. It's Anija's favourite food; Tobirama never made it very often, because it's a lot of work and some of the mushrooms are fairly rare. He knows where Haha's old mushroom patches all are, of course, but Kawarama was always better at mushroom dancing than he is; they grow more reluctantly for Tobirama and less bountifully.
Izuna's chakra quivers with wistful interest. "Mushroom soup?" She asks hopefully. "Umeno-baa used to make wonderful mushroom soup; not so much nowadays." She bites her lower lip. "Oh no," she adds, expression ruefully self-aware, "I'm craving Umeno-baa's mushroom soup."
"Well my mother's soup won't be quite like your grandmother's," Tobirama concedes, "but if you give me leave to use the kitchen and tell me who to talk to about mushrooms, I can make you mushroom soup, Lord-Wife."
Izuna's chakra yearns, even as her face remains thoughtful. Tobirama hides his smirk behind another mouthful of breakfast and waits patiently for her to fold. He wants to make her mushroom soup. It's something he can do for her, and he can see already that it's something she will sincerely appreciate.
Between them Kiso is eagerly eating his own meal, but the way he watches them over the edge of his bowl, jaw working as he chews, betrays the toddler's interest in the discussion. If Tobirama does go out he will doubtless have to take Kiso along with him, even though it means the toddler might miss the weekly mixed babysitting session; it depends very much on whether the little boy finds mushroom talk boring or not.
"I don't see why not," his wife says eventually, "but I can't guarantee Umeno-baa will have time for you, Treasure."
"If she does not, I am happy to be assigned a minder –or a squad of them– to visit my own mushroom patches," Tobirama offers. Considering he has personally murdered one of Umeno-san's sons, several grandchildren and many of her great-grandchildren, she has every right to choose not to see him. But he wants to make mushroom soup for Izuna, so he has to try.
His wife nods. "I am sure somebody will volunteer for that, though it might mean charging you whatever mushrooms do not go into the soup for their time."
Fair enough. "I shall change and then head out." Now he has chakra to regulate his body temperature he will be comfortable in one of his silk kimono, and can wear a nice obi to show his respect for his prospective host.
Kiso swallows his last mouthful of katameshi. "Kiso visit Umeno-baa wif Keifu?"
"You sure you don't want to spend the morning with Yari-chan and the others?" Izuna asks. "Your keifu's just going to be talking to Umeno-baa and maybe going for a walk."
"Wan' go wif Keifu," Kiso insists firmly, pouting.
"Well then, we'd better get ready, hadn't we?" Tobirama says, conceding. There's no point arguing with the toddler about it, and he can always carry Kiso if it turns out to be a bit more of a walk than those little legs can manage.
Tobirama has miscalculated. He had expected his wife's half-Hatake grandmother to look Uchiha, as her children had.
Umeno-san does not look Uchiha. Her skin is a lighter gold than his mother's was and her hair more wild and less curly –and is more platinum blond in shade than the silver-white his mother had– and she is shorter –he thinks– and her eye-shape is rounder, but beyond that…
She even smells Hatake; not quite like his mother did, but close enough. He has enough chakra now for proper scenting and Umeno-san smells like lightning strikes, spring growth and slightly of tiger along with the usual Uchiha fire-and-incense scent; kaya wood this time.
It hurts. Like it hurts that she is looking at him like that, face studiously blank but chakra bitter and aching, the laugh-lines neatly carved around her eyes and mouth indicating that the furrow between her brows is not her usual expression at all.
Now he can scent Kiso properly he knows the toddler also has that faint tang of ozone, barely a whisper but enough to indicate an untapped Elemental Affinity. Otherwise he is almost entirely Uchiha in scent –other than the slight edge of tiger fur– but he suspects Keigetsu would match Umeno-san –and Kawarama– in smelling like new shoots forcing their way through the leaf-litter, like life and swift growth with a chaser of large predator.
"What brings you to my door, spouse of my granddaughter?"
Well, she's not spitting in his face; Tobirama will take it. He bows: "I wish to make mushroom soup for my wife, and was informed that Umeno-san is who I should speak to in seeking appropriate ingredients."
Her chakra tightens, a muscle in her cheek twitching. "And if I say I cannot help you?"
Tobirama bows again. "Then I will request an escort to accompany me to my mother's old mushroom patches, and do my best to please my Lord-Wife with what I find there." There probably won't be much, but it will be something; last time he made mushroom soup was for Hashirama's twentieth birthday eighteen months ago, and he's not convinced the mushrooms will have recovered after so short an interval. Not for him.
His mushroom dancing has never been as good as Kawarama's.
Umeno-san sniffs. "Did you ever bother to learn to dance for the mushrooms?"
Tobirama breathes. "My mother died when I was eight," he says shortly, "but I learned everything she taught me until then, to the best of my ability. I do not have a talent for mushroom-dancing, but I am capable." He has no knack for Lightning Release at all; Haha taught him to dance using pure chakra rather than the faintly electrified steps she herself used and taught to Kawarama. He doesn't know if his offerings make the slightest difference to the mushrooms, but mushroom dancing is one of the few things he has from his mother so he is not about to stop doing it.
"Hn." Umeno-san's chakra swirls consideringly as her eyes drop to Kiso, who is clutching at Tobirama's obi cords and looking from him to Umeno-san and back again, thumb stuck in his mouth and radiating wary confusion. "I am not as mobile as I used to be," she announces abruptly, "and none of my younger kin who live in the compound have shown any interest in mushroom dancing." She smiles at Kiso, suddenly soft and kind. "Would you like to learn to dance for the mushrooms, Kiso-bō?"
Kiso looks up at Tobirama, who offers an encouraging smile. "I think you would be very good at mushroom dancing, Kiso-kun." He's the right age to start learning, and now Tobirama is assured a little more liberty in moving around Uchiha land he could feasibly take his small charge on regular walks into the woodlands. Provided Umeno-san is willing to allow him anywhere near her mushroom patches, that is.
The toddler leans closer into Tobirama's leg, removing his thumb from his mouth just long enough to say, "Dance wif Keifu."
Umeno-san's chakra recoils, but her pain and grief show only in the brief deepening of the crease between her white-gold eyebrows. "Well, first we shall see if dancing is necessary today; which mushrooms do you need for your soup, Tobirama-san?"
"Shii mushroom, beech mushroom, king oyster mushroom, slippery mushroom, golden oyster mushroom, grape-wine cap, horse mushroom, tree-ear, mountain piglets, purple tips, woodland chicken, sponge morel and of course dancing mushroom," Tobirama recites; he thinks those are the ones currently in season. "Pine mushroom if you have any dried from last autumn; bag mushrooms, enoki and flat mushrooms if you have growing sheds." His mother's flat mushroom and bag mushroom sheds are something the vassals have kept up, mostly because both types grow very well on straw. Her enoki sheds however had some trick to them the clan were unable to reproduce in the winter after she died, so were dismantled.
The soup recipe is seasonal, changing according to what is available, but the flavour itself does not change that much; possibly because so many different mushrooms go into making it. Of course it's not just mushrooms, but the other ingredients will hopefully be more easily sourced; he's smelled shiso, yuzu, kudzu starch and karashi in the kitchen at the Amaterasu Residence and bamboo shoots are fairly ubiquitous, as are the common seasonings, but myoga, burdock and konjac he is probably going to have to ask about.
His prompt recital seems to mollify Umeno-san slightly, her chakra smoothing out and the tightness in her shoulders fading. "I have mushroom barns and a few nearby patches," she concedes, "which you may harvest from today, as well as some dried stores."
Tobirama bows. "I am very grateful to Umeno-san."
"You may harvest mushrooms, and help Kiso-bō with his dancing," she continues, tone firm, "and I will let you use my kitchen to make soup for Izuna-chan." Unsaid but clearly implied is that Umeno-san wishes to try Haha's soup, and whether she lets him near her rarer and more remote mushroom patches will depend very much on his culinary performance.
"Many thanks to Umeno-san for her kindness." Tobirama has never been one to back down from a challenge.
Mushroom dancing is both utterly simple and subtly complex. It is simple in that the basic chakra exercise is something a toddler can do –provided the toddler has a Lightning affinity– and the steps are very child-friendly, being more of an uneven drunken stagger than a formal dance, and thus achievable even for those new to walking and therefore unpractised in the rigours of balancing on two feet.
It is subtle in that different forms suit different types of mushroom best, and there is a careful balance to walk in terms of how much to dance. Too much can be as bad as too little, and dancing in the wrong place is effort to little effect.
Admittedly not much effort, but Tobirama honestly struggles too much at mushroom dancing to be willing to waste his attentions. Kawarama, being exponentially more gifted at it, was far less concerned about precision.
Kiso, having a Lightning affinity, does not take very long to grasp the basic exercise and is soon tottering around on slightly electric tiptoes, giggling as he spirals, bounces and stamps. Tobirama claps as he sways drunkenly, singing the very silly mushroom song that Haha had sung for him when he was starting out, so he would have something to dance to.
It's actually a very useful song –it's all about identifying mushrooms and offers clues as to which steps work best for which type– but the terminology is fanciful and ridiculous and the chorus is that particular flavour of inane that echoes in your mind for the rest of eternity. It's also a very long song; Tobirama suspects there are more verses he doesn't know, seeing as his mother had focused on teaching him to distinguish the local edible mushrooms from the similar-looking toxic ones rather than trying to teach him all of them.
Kiso is already joining in the chorus, chanting "Dance! Dance! Dance the muss-room dance! Happy hans an' zappy feet! Dance! Dance! Dance!" with a delighted open-mouthed smile on his face, so gleeful that Tobirama can't keep himself from smiling back. It's wonderful to do this with someone else again, even though it hurts as well. But it's a good pain; a sharp, hopeful ache that carries the promise of growth.
This little copse of trees behind the shrine is very clearly curated for maximum mushroom variety, with its stumps and fallen logs as well as a wide range of different tree species growing, all of them with mushrooms emerging from either around the roots or up the side of the trunk. Tobirama has already lifted up Kiso so he could kick the tree-trunks after the mushrooms were harvested –which the toddler did with great glee– and now they are meandering around the entire shady copse under Umeno-san's watchful eye.
Watchful yet fond as her gaze lingers on her great-grandson; Tobirama hopes she will reveal dried mushrooms to go with the fresh ones he has been able to gather, as he does not quite have the desired variety for properly flavourful soup. Many good mushrooms, yes, but what makes Hatake soup different is the complexity and depth of flavour. This selection along with what is in the barns is rather obviously curated for more mainstream tastes.
They will make a nice soup. But it won't be a proper soup.
Kiso finally decides he's had enough of dancing for a little while and flops face-down on the grass; Tobirama sits on the ground next to him, head tilted back to look at the bright blue sky between the leaves. "That was fun, wasn't it Kiso-kun?"
"Hn!" The toddler rolls on his side and nods energetically, then crawls into Tobirama's lap and flops against his chest; Tobirama strokes the short, silky hair sticking up every-which-way like an unruly halo and breathes, enjoying Kiso's scent, his joy and the other smells of summer and the outdoors.
He looks up warily as Umeno-san approaches, but merely she sits on the ground out of arm's reach and pours cups of cold tea for both of them, so Tobirama accepts the truce and encourages Kiso to drink. It's still mid-morning, but summer is very hot and the day will only get hotter.
Umeno-san doesn't say anything right away, preferring to nurse her own drink. Tobirama focuses on coaxing Kiso into finishing his tea, then lets the boy snuggle against him as they both settle, heart-rates slowing as they listen to the birdsong, the droning of the roosters and the variously distant noises of the clan at work.
It's starting to sound homely. Like his rooms in the Amaterasu Residence feel homely, especially now he has his books and scrolls and notes in them and all the other little things he'd put aside over the years. His mother's inkstone, winter coat and her leopard netsuke, the pine bonsai Hashirama gave him for his seventeenth birthday, the calligraphy wall-scrolls Baa-san has gifted to him over the years, one of Tōka's ink paintings; precious things.
He's even got his dragon flute, tucked in with his mother's old kimono and several other things which were not previously his but that he will not draw attention to because Anija will have smuggled them in on purpose. Little things, but precious: the whalebone octopus that Baa-san often displayed in her rooms, a carved brush-stand that is very clearly Tokonoma-ji's handiwork, several plain blunt hardwood hairpins that feel like his other aunts, a new pair of covers for the large floor cushions he commissioned for his leopards back when he first moved into his own home.
Tobirama appreciates the gifts, accepting the implied well-wishes and hopes for future meetings in the spirit they are intended.
He still doesn't know which relative killed his father; it wasn't Baa-san, Tokonoma-ji or Hashirama, but that is a fairly short list. So many left to choose from, but while it is expected that he wish to avenge his father's murder, he is disinclined to untangle the exact sequence of events when neither Anija nor Tokonoma-ji seem particularly concerned.
His father's death likely saved the Senju; one life lost is not so large a price to pay as all that, even when that one life was his father's.
Kiso shifts in his lap; Tobirama glances down at hopeful deep grey eyes.
"Dance?"
"You want to do more dancing?" Kiso nods emphatically. Tobirama hums, glancing at Umeno-san. "We'd have to ask your Obaa-san if she knows anywhere else we can dance for mushrooms; too much dancing in one place can be bad."
Kiso instantly squirms around to face Umeno-san. "More dance, Baa-chan?" He asks plaintively. "Pease?"
Umeno-san gives Tobirama a brief reproving glare –she knows exactly what he's just done but Tobirama doesn't care; this is entirely up to her so she can be the one disappointing Kiso– then turns her attention to the toddler:
"You like mushroom dancing then, Kiso-chan?"
"Es!"
She smiles at his enthusiasm. "Well then, let us go looking for somewhere else in need of our attention, shall we?"
Kiso bounds to his feat, jittering eagerly in place as Tobirama also rises; not the outcome he'd expected, but certainly one he appreciates.
"We'll be going up the hill," Umeno-san continues, "so make sure you stay close and ask Tobirama-san to carry you if you get tired. You want to be fresh for the dancing after all!"
Kiso, who had started to look mulish at the prospect of getting tired this early in the day, instantly turns all eagerness again at the reminder that there will be more dancing once they reach their mysterious destination. Tobirama is just grateful he had the forethought to bring the child-carrier along in his bag.
Kiso is shockingly energetic for a toddler who has spent days at a time snuggled against Tobirama's side and refusing to move, running back and forth under the trees and 'ambushing' him out of the bushes as Tobirama walks in step with Umeno-san on their way up the wooded hillside.
They don't seem to be going directly to anywhere, but they have already passed two small mushroom patches that Kiso was delighted to dance on –with Umeno-san this time, who showed him specific steps for each mushroom in question– as well as various small clearings where Tobirama has been able to cut, pick or dig up other ingredients with a borrowed kunai. Most of the trees here are the same thick-stumped, many-trunked coppicing as he saw on the western side of the compound, so presumably the rest of the Uchiha lands are also like this. Well, away from the river boundary with the Senju at least; those trees are large and spreading, so evidently it is considered unsafe to clear and coppice there.
The few uncoppiced trees he's seen up here so far have mushrooms growing up them, or else are fruit or nut trees which are trimmed in other ways.
It's slightly less sticky up here in the woods, but it's still hot. Tobirama's very grateful for both his restored access to chakra –however limited– and his new kimono. The ruddy purple masculine summer-weight silk with its crashing-wave pattern is very comfortable, even when tied by a full-width damask obi with a musubi that hangs most of the way to the backs of his knees. Izuna took the time during the rainy season to show him a range of less restrictive ways to drape a kimono for informal occasions, and while some of those styles were possibly too informal –he doesn't generally want to show that much chest– he can now move much more freely than before.
Watching his wife change her entire image simply by changing how her kimono is worn was also very revealing in how she is able to coax so many people into talking to her and vanish into a crowd afterwards; a few small adjustments in her appearance and the demure maiden becomes a flirtatious shop-girl, a hardworking farmer's daughter, a geisha… or a prostitute.
All without actually changing her kimono; Tobirama now has a whole new method of signalling his mood and intended daily activities, as well as a very fun new way to flirt. However the useful part was how to wear a kimono so that you can stride up a hill without the garment sliding off your shoulders or impeding your movement.
"Aaarrrrr!" Kiso ambushes him from behind a tree again; Tobirama obligingly staggers dramatically.
"Oh no, I am being savaged by a wild beast!"
Kiso giggles madly, smacking his face against Tobirama's thigh. "Om nom nom!"
"Oh no, I'm dead!" Tobirama slumps into a tree for several seconds, then swoops down with a tickle counter-attack then sends the toddler zooming away up the path, still chortling. Tobirama straightens up again and continues walking, politely ignoring Umeno-san's conflictedly swirling chakra.
"You are very conscientious with Kiso-bō, Tobirama-san."
He glances at her. "He reminds me a great deal of my own younger brothers, Umeno-san."
"I was unaware you had younger siblings, Tobirama-san."
"They both died when I was a child, Umeno-san."
"My apologies, Tobirama-san." She does not ask who killed them; Tobirama does not volunteer the information either. He honestly doesn't know which Uchiha killed Itama –or if they are still alive– as his sensing wasn't anywhere near as good then as it is now. It was Itama dying that prompted him to get better; that loss had proved beyond all doubt that his range had been not good enough.
They continue on a little while longer, then Kiso ambushes Tobirama again –from behind a rocky outcrop too small to conceal him completely even if his giggles were not giving him away– and Umeno-san decrees that they are to change direction for a bit.
Once the sun has almost completed its crawl to the highest point in the sky, Tobirama leaves his hard-earned mushrooms in Umeno-san's kitchen and heads home to the Amaterasu Residence for lunch. After the meal he will put the toddler down for his nap, then head out again to cook the soup. There are enough mushrooms and other ingredients for two batches, so he will do one batch of the quick soup for this evening, and also make a mushroom daishi in preparation for slow soup, which he will continue making tomorrow morning. It is going to be hot work, hours spent in a kitchen at the height of summer, but Izuna is absolutely worth the effort. He is already looking forward to her delight at being given food he has cooked for her and not even the prospect of more hours of being needled by Umeno-san can dampen his determination.
"So how was your morning?" Izuna asks after they have had quick stand-up washes and settled by the unlit iori; Kiso immediately launches into an enthusiastic description of 'muss-room dance!' and all the many, many things he has done and learned today. Tobirama lets the childish babble wash over him and soothe the tightness in his shoulders.
Umeno-san has every right to not like him. He can accept being disliked. She is not trying to talk him down to Kiso, or even to try and separate him from her great-grandson, which is something she could have chosen to attempt. She could also have chosen to not help him at all with the mushrooms, which he would have accepted. But she did allow him to gather some of the mushrooms she tends, and spent the day watching him with Kiso in between attempting stilted conversation and doing a little dancing of her own with the toddler out in the woods.
But no matter the stark differences in physical scent her chakra is so very like his mother's was, and that makes the pain rising from her skin like a stinging cloud all the more difficult to ignore. He has hurt Umeno-san, who is distant kin to him –likely significantly less distant on the Hatake side than Izuna's thirteen generations removed from the Senju main line via Kabema– and his presence causes her pain, but she refuses to turn him away despite that.
For her great-grandson and granddaughter's sakes perhaps, but it is still something she is doing and deeds have always meant far more to him than words.
Kiso babbles throughout the meal, then starts yawning a little while after finishing; Tobirama therefore carries the toddler away to his futon and sits beside the boy until he drops off. Then he washes his face again and decides to also take a break before visiting Umeno-san; he does not know how early she eats or if she also naps after the midday meal, so it would be polite to let a little time pass before returning to start the soup.
Izuna is waiting for him on the north-eastern engawa with a pot of tea. "And how was your morning, Shikii-kun?"
"Tense," Tobirama admits easily, accepting his cup of tea and sprawling comfortably over the cool boards. "You grandmother was very considerate, but she –quite understandably– does not enjoy my company."
His wife nods, chakra melancholy. "You are very dear to me," she says quietly. Tobirama shifts closer so he can wrap an arm around her. Since the rains stopped he has been reluctant to touch or be touched, being already far too hot and unable to regulate it, but now he has a little chakra access he is comfortable enough to cuddle again. Izuna shifting closer in response to his unspoken invitation makes it clear she has missed the casual intimacy.
"And you to me, my heart," he assures her. "I am not hurt by her reticence; she made more of an effort than I expected her to and I am very grateful to her for it. She has also insisted I use her kitchen for my cooking, so I will not be displacing Hayami-chan this afternoon."
"So I will not get to watch you cook mushroom soup?"
Tobirama chuckles at his wife's faux-woeful expression, lightly kissing her. "It will be a surprise, Lord-Wife. Allow me to serve you in this?"
"If it pleases you to do so, Tobirama."
"It does." It truly does, and he is very grateful for her trust in him, that she is prepared to allow this. He also appreciates deeply that she doesn't try to advise him on ways to 'fix' what is broken between himself and Umeno-san; does not try to justify or dismiss the rupture either. She simply listens and accepts, and that is incredibly precious to him.
"Then I shall spend the afternoon in with Kiso and Kei-chan," his wife says easily, reminding him that yes, this afternoon is one of the days when Izuna now takes Kei for a few hours. She has set up a regular schedule of afternoons for that: they have her both on days when Kiso is being babysat and when he is in, so he too can adjust.
Tobirama kisses her again. "Thank you, Izuna."
She sets down her teacup safely at the very edge of arm's reach . "Oh my treasure," she murmurs, tenderly cradling his jaw in one hand, "I would not deny you anything within my means to give."
Tobirama also carefully moves his teacup to beside hers where it will not get jostled. "It is very warm right now," he murmurs, caressing her throat; "might my wife lie down with me for a little while, then join me in the bathhouse to freshen up afterwards?"
Izuna easily catches the implied invitation for physical intimacy, smiling knowingly at him from under lowered lashes. "That sounds most amenable to me, Treasure," she agrees softly; "I place myself in your hands."
Tobirama kisses her again, slow and tender; despite his now having chakra, the stifling heat means it is only possible to take such things slowly, but this part of the engawa is sheltered on all sides by various vegetation and the only other person in sensing range right now is Kiso, asleep on his futon. They do not need to rush and there is nobody who might see them.
There is a giddy joy in this freedom, that he can undress his wife on the engawa of their home and coax pleasure into fruition between them. That he can enjoy this moment in the assurance of privacy and intimacy. That he can kiss the now-unmistakeable curve of her abdomen beneath which their child –their child– is growing.
He loves Izuna so much it hurts.
When Tobirama agreed to cook in Umeno-san's kitchen, he did so in the knowledge that she lives with Izuna's aunt Asuka-san and Asuka-san's daughter Shige-chan, who cook for Tajima and Izuna's brothers in the Clan Hall. He did not realise that at this time of year she also has in her house a range of other Trading Branch kin.
Half of whom are not here this year. Because he personally has killed them.
Katsuma thankfully is not here –staying with his in-laws apparently– but he cannot avoid meeting Umeno-san's oldest daughter Hiromi or her husband Yukito, which leads to profoundly uncomfortable introductions to those of Hiromi's children who are currently in the house: Hiromi's eldest Terumi and her husband Teishi, her third child Kinji who is seventeen and back from the Sailing Circuit alongside his uncle Karifuri, and her youngest Mineo, who is very recently fourteen.
There are also Terumi and Teishi's children: Tamaki, Ishimi and Tsuka, aged seven, five and fourteen months respectively. Tobirama manages to excuse himself to the kitchen before Tamaki-kun can make good on his offer to find any other relatives hanging around; he would flee the building entirely, but that would be breaking his promise to Umeno-san and he doesn't want to do that.
Especially since he would also lose the mushrooms.
Thankfully none of the adults want anything to do with him, so once he is settled in the kitchen, kneeling awkwardly in front of the low stove and chopping the ingredients into the pans, he is entirely undisturbed. Umeno-san sits on the engawa above him, drinking tea and watching in silence at he cooks; that is unsettling, but Tobirama has practice at ignoring judgemental eyes.
He focuses on starting the quick soup base, then the mushroom daishi for tomorrow's slow soup, then on preparing the various quick soup ingredients in order of how long they will take to cook. Umeno-san has laid out a handful of dried pine mushrooms for him to use; he makes sure to thank her before setting them to soak. The mushrooms themselves will go in tomorrow's meal, but the soaking water will be added to tonight's quick soup to enhance the flavours.
Tobirama allows himself to become engrossed in the process of scrubbing, soaking, chopping and mashing in between the regular stirring and occasional seasoning; even so-called 'quick soup' takes several hours, and different mushrooms have to be added at different points in the process, according to how much cooking they need to be safe to eat. And to have the correct texture, of course; mushroom soup should be enjoyable, not merely edible.
Slowly but surely the smell filling the sticky air begins to take on the required qualities; Tobirama stirs patiently, carefully drains the mushroom soaking water into the pan and then adds the next round of ingredients once the soup starts simmering again.
The smell brings back memories of standing on a stool so as to be the right height to stir the soup on the stove in the standing kitchen in his mother's house as a child, meticulously taking care that nothing sticks to the bottom of the soup pan and sneaking peeks at his mother chopping the other ingredients one at a time and adding them to the pot, humming to herself and patting him on the head with a smile every time their eyes meet.
"Baa-tan soup?" Asks a high voice from the open kitchen doors.
"No, this is my mother's soup," Tobirama corrects absently, sniffing judiciously and adding the thinly-sliced konjac corm to the soup; it has soaked enough and the other ingredients are all at the right stage.
"Smell like Baa-tan soup," the childish voice insists; "Baa-tan, wan' soup!"
Tobirama looks up to see a boy of possibly three folding his arms huffily in the open doorway. "That's no way to talk to your grandmother, young man," he says sharply as he stirs, mind full of how Sunami-baa would react to being addressed so rudely.
The boy flinches. "Sorry, Baa-tan." A pause. "Why smell like Baa-tan soup?"
"Tobirama-san's mother was a Hatake, like my father was," Umeno-san says mildly, "but from a different summoning lineage. So he is making Hatake mushroom soup, but it's not quite the same as mine."
"Family soup!" The little boy declares gleefully, pattering closer to peer into the pans on the stove.
"I'm making it for Izuna-san," Tobirama says, stirring the soup and checking the daishi in the other pan.
"Why?"
"She is my wife and I want her to enjoy my mother's soup."
A pause. "Tobirama-ji-tan," the boy says decisively, making Umeno-san's chakra contract sharply and Tobirama almost fumble his stirring spoon, "Can I have some soup? Please?"
"It's not ready yet," Tobirama replies instantly, still stirring and trying to get over the ache of being addressed thusly. Yes, he has made enough soup to provide generous portions for a grown warrior and four hungry little boys –or four warriors, or three warriors, an elder and a toddler– but Izuna apparently eats enough for two even when not pregnant. He doesn't want to share the soup out any further.
"Izuna-san is pregnant, Kazuo-kun," Umeno-san says disapprovingly, "like your mother is; no stealing her soup!"
"Sorry Baa-tan, sorry Ji-tan," Kazuo-kun mumbles grudgingly, wandering away and climbing up onto the engawa, leaving his sandals lying in the dust by the sink. "I won' steal Izuna-ba's soup." His chakra presence, however small, is very perceptively sulking now.
"I am sure your father will make mushroom soup tomorrow if you ask nicely, Kazuo-kun," Umeno-san offers consolingly. "He makes a very good mushroom soup, does your father."
"Baa-tan ask?" The little boy cajoles hopefully, making the elder chuckle.
"Oh, you think I should ask my grandson to come over and make mushroom soup for all the family?"
"Ye! Tou-san make Baa-tan soup for Baa-tan!" There's a faint thud of impact on the boards from the excitedly bouncing small child, a thump as the boy lands back in the kitchen, a scuffle of sandals being slipped on again and then Kazuo-kun is off out of the door, presumably to demand his father cook mushroom soup for the whole family.
Tobirama has an uncomfortable suspicion that Kazuo's father might well be Katsuma.