Bondage
Tajima shows up on their doorstep bright and early on Monday morning, before Tobirama has left to monitor his science experiment and in fact even before breakfast.
"Esteemed father-in-law," Tobirama says, conscious of wearing his dayflower blue linen nagajuban with the green and pink hyacinth print as an outer layer right now, over the cheerful parrot-green nagajuban with the resist-printed irises for warmth. For at home or dancing in a field it doesn't matter; however now his father-in-law is here and Tobirama feels wrong-footed. This is not what he'd wear where Tajima can see him if he had a choice.
"Tobirama-san," Tajima says, setting down the respectably-sized chest he is carrying just inside the front hall as Kiso trots over to peer into the genkan at his sort-of grandfather –great-uncle maybe? That sounds about right– from behind Tobirama's legs. "Asane-san mentioned your interest in historic documents." He pats the top of the chest, which make a dull, muffled sound suggesting it is very full.
Izuna wanders out of her bedroom, comb in hand and hair loose down her back. "Might this have something to do with the wailing and gnashing of teeth I've been hearing from Kuma and Ōsasa? Something about a new punishment duty that is both cruel and unusual?"
Tajima chuckles. "You have been insistent that a broad swath of documents in the Clan Archives need copying onto better paper if we wish them to last, daughter. This seemed expedient."
"Practical and punitive," Izuna muses, chakra tinged with amusement. "I am sure many people's calligraphy will be the better for it, but at what cost?"
Her father smirks. "Perhaps they will think better of their insubordination and lack of judgement next time."
"Hope springs eternal," Izuna mutters, making Tobirama hastily hide a smirk behind his sleeve; evidently it's not just the Senju who have those kinds of issues with their warriors, despite Uchiha discipline being so much more stringent. Tajima exercises a much firmer hand than Tobirama has ever seen any Senju do, himself included; his own discipline –considered unnecessarily stringent by his kin– seems lax and permissive in comparison.
"These are the old documents," Tajima continues, patting the chest again, "and the fair copies have been checked over for accuracy and archived, so you may keep these as long as you wish, son-in-law; once you are done with them they can be burnt or repurposed." His gaze drops to Kiso. "Potentially as drawing paper or for origami." He pauses, gaze drifting back up to meet Tobirama's eyes. "I'm sure there'll be more for your perusal in due time."
When the next round of youthful idiocy strikes and Tajima once again enforces copywork as a punishment, Tobirama infers easily. The victims should be grateful it is not the clan's legal codex; he still has Madara's fair copy of that, which –now that he can read it without needing a dictionary for every third character– is proving a very useful reference text.
"I suppose it's a change from rock-picking," Izuna comments.
"We are not short of rocks at present."
"Ah, but the copying up needs doing?" Tobirama is fairly sure his wife is teasing her father.
"Recent events have enabled the clan to purchase a large order of Aburame paper," Tajima says mildly, "and current idleness is leading certain young and impressionable subordinates into mischief. A little tempering will do harm to none of them."
"Well, I'm sure missions will start picking up again soon."
"Hn." Tajima pauses. "I've set today's lesson out in your mother's sitting room, Izuna-chan; Madara-kun is supervising Saburō in the office."
"Hai, Otou-sama."
Tajima nods. "Good day." Then he leaves, presumably to change into his black silks and head out to the southern border for today's negotiations.
Tobirama reaches cautiously for the chest, hefts it, adjusts his balance –it is a lot heavier than Tajima made it look, it must be crammed full– and carefully carries it into his living room. He's already desperately curious, but sadly this will have to wait until the evening, as he has Kiso to entertain this morning and tea down by the river in the afternoon.
His son is still toddling along beside him, one hand hooked over his soft obi. "I have to go out and tend to the plants soon, Kiso-kit."
"Hn." The toddler doesn't let go. "Jii-tama not like Keifu."
Tobirama pauses; what brought this on? "He doesn't think I'm good enough for Izuna-san," he offers mildly, not going into the various reasons for that.
"Keifu wonderful," Kiso says sulkily, sticking his fingers in his mouth.
"I could be the best person in the whole world and your Jii-sama still wouldn't think I was good enough for Izuna-san," Tobirama says dryly, "because Izuna-san is his beloved daughter and in his eyes no man could ever be good enough for her." Which is not quite true, but is something of a truism regardless. So far as he's noticed, most fathers are suspicious of their sons-in-law. The fathers who care about their daughter's welfare in particular; Tajima is assisted in his prejudice by knowing that his daughter is the highest-ranking individual on the continent and thus no man will ever be 'good enough' for her. In strictly noble terms at least.
"Hn." Kiso considers this. "Ba-tan like Keifu."
"And it's her opinion that matters," Tobirama confirms, warmed that it's not just him who can see it.
"Jii-tama not make Keifu leave?" Oh so that's what this is about.
"No, Kiso-kit," Tobirama assures him, kneeling down and pulling the toddler into a hug, "Tajima-sama can't make me leave. I'm Uchiha now, even if I don't look much like the rest of your family, and the Uchiha don't throw people out of the clan." The only way he is leaving his new clan will be at his funeral; the Uchiha don't do banishment. Many clansmen travel, but even if he did join the trading branch –extremely unlikely a prospect though it is– he would remain part of the Uchiha regardless.
"Keifu look like Saburō-nii," the toddler points out. "Keifu family."
"So I do," Tobirama concedes, "and so I am." Fairly distant family a good many generations removed, but family for all that.
"Good." Evidently reassured, Kiso wiggles out of his arms and runs off. Tobirama leaves his living room and closes the fusuma, then gives chase to his toddler son; it's time to wash hands before breakfast.
Tobirama spends a highly enjoyable morning sat on a blanket in the garden and drawing, Kiso alternating between also drawing and running around chasing butterflies. By noon he has several wax crayon sketches of the toddler that he is very happy with, along with some of Ganko-chicken, the trees and the koi in the pond. Also of a juvenile pheasant that must have wandered out of the woods, which settled in the plum tree for about half an hour, until Kiso's energetic games frightened it off.
Naka-Scallion has no clarifications for him regarding the source of his son's intermittent moodiness after being babysat, but she does assure him that he's not being tormented by the other children and she is monitoring the situation. Reassured that things have been clarified if not necessarily resolved, Tobirama turns his attention to his wardrobe in preparation for tea. Izuna isn't back yet, but she sent a message that she was eating with her brothers and would come home to change in time for them to attend the tea via fuuinjutsu travel.
He gets out his dragon-embroidered kimono as an outer layer, it being a very fine visiting kimono in its own right, then ponders what to layer it with. Orange and purple maybe, or green and yellow?
After some considerable pondering he eventually puts the sakura-pink dragon kimono away again and gets out the aster purple one with the flowers and cobwebs; purple over orange will be more attractively autumnal, with the steamed-chestnut-yellow nagajuban next to his skin and the matching tabi. He's wearing the pale spring-onion tachibana long obi, of course, but he's going to have to wait for Izuna to show up and tie it for him.
He does up his hair in something comfortable and neat as he waits for his wife's return, adding his plain possibly-tortoiseshell hair comb in front of the braided knot and then dressing in the various layers and securing them firmly. He also gets out his murasaki purple obi cords and bustle sash; if he is doing this, he may as well do it properly and show his respect and appreciation to the Aburame, for their kindness in hosting these informal events so that he can spend time with his family. He knows Izuna isn't going to stay for the entire afternoon; she has other people to talk to and things to do. She just wants to be introduced to his family and be present for long enough to show she cares –and also assure her father that she is being responsible– then leave him to enjoy privacy with his kin.
Seeing as his wife isn't back yet, Tobirama experiments a bit with his chakra, seeing how much he can manipulate the long obi with it and letting the warmth and joy of it bubble up; having this much freedom returned, this much trust afforded. It's still not much –he had more chakra at ten than he can manipulate now– but it's much more than he had before. So much more; he can actually condense a little water out of the air now without resorting to Izuna's de-humidifying seals.
Playing with the water droplets is pure self-indulgence, but Tobirama doesn't have anything else that needs doing right now so he plays with the trickle of water he can manipulate at present, sending it arching between his hands and enjoying how the droplets sparkle in the diffuse sunlight streaming in through the open shōji.
"Having fun, Treasure?"
Tobirama directs the water into his washbasin and turns around to smile at his wife. "Very much, Izuna; my thanks for your trust."
Izuna smiles back, chakra soft and fond and the hair around her face spiking as though she's absent-mindedly tugged her fringe out of her topknot while working. She looks oddly soft in the murasaki men's kimono that used to be Madara's, worn with her peony-pink hakama with the fan embroidery and the willow-green spun silk haori thrown over the top, peach-pink nagajuban peeking out at collar and cuffs and pink tabi on her feet.
Tobirama pulls her in for a kiss, just because he can. "And how is my beautiful wife on this fine autumn afternoon?" he asks.
"Thinking longingly of being able to do something brainless and physical," Izuna says ruefully; "I may skip out on my social duties this afternoon and play music instead."
Tobirama kind of wants to laugh at music as an activity that is 'brainless and physical,' but doesn't; evidently for Izuna it counts as such. "If that would please you, why not?" he offers instead. "I'm sure everybody would be understanding; you're working very hard."
"Encouraging me to skive off, Treasure," his wife shakes her head; "so tempting, I shall be corrupted and ruined forever."
Tobirama kisses her again. "Will you tie me up in my obi first, or will you change?"
"Tie you up in your obi; oh the mental images," Izuna laughs. Tobirama is promptly also beset with mental images, some of them extremely fun-looking.
"Another day maybe?" he suggests playfully.
"I'm sure we could have a lot of fun with that, yes," his wife agrees wickedly, reaching for the obi draped over his screen. "But I'll dress you up first and then change as quickly as I can; it wouldn't do to be late."
"Remember to redo your hair." Adorable as it looks spiking around her face like her brothers', it doesn't really go with a visiting kimono.
Izuna reaches up to feel her hair and sighs. "Sometimes I wonder if it's responding to my determination, the way it always does this when my Lord-Father dumps a difficult assignment on me."
"Would you like me to brush it for you?" She can put his obi on him afterwards.
"I think I'd love that actually; would you Tobirama?"
"It would be my pleasure, Izuna."
Izuna emerges wearing a rich green kimono with clusters of horizontal gold brocade lines creating the impression of morning mist, delicately embroidered with flocks of golden cranes in a gloriously understated expression of wealth and beauty. Peeking out at her throat under it is the daylily yellow spun silk kimono, now demoted to a dōnuki, and under that is the blue-white nagajuban with the tiny gold stars. Around her waist is an obi he has not seen before, creamy yellow with a large persimmon-fruit print in vermillion, embroidered with a liberal scattering of tiny gold leaves around stencil-printed pairs of mandarin ducks in flight.
It's a very seasonal look, but also one that makes him want to do something because mandarin ducks are for marital harmony and fidelity. She is wearing ducks for him.
He restrains himself to pressing a kiss to the scars on the back of her neck. "My Lord-Wife looks very fine and seasonal."
He wants to leave bruises somewhere a little more visible than down her back. Like on her wrists, maybe. His teeth are tingling; so are his legs, which is a little more worrying given he was very careful to have a warm soak this morning. He will ask Ōka-ba to check him over after tea.
"You also look very fine, Treasure," Izuna tells him with a warm smirk. "Shall we?"
"I would hate to keep my aunt waiting." Ōka-ba is a delight and a terror.
"Let us be off then!"
It's a short walk –with umbrellas, because it's sunny enough right now to merit it– and then they are using Izuna's fascinating teleportation fuuinjutsu to reappear in front of the guest compound down by the river, where an Aburame is waiting for them. An Aburame in a golden brown cobweb-damask kimono, tied with a wide obi in soft teal that is patterned with lantern-fruit in shades of orange and pale brown, surrounded by a scattering of fireflies.
"Shiori-dono." It can only be Aburame Shiori; she is the only one of their guests who has admitted to being female.
"Tobirama-dono; Izuna-sama." Their host bows. "I have laid out mats down by the riverside; I am sure our other guests will be along presently."
Tobirama is sure they will be too; he can sense Ōka-ba and Keika near the treaty hall, doubtless sorting out their outfits before crossing the bridge.
… is that Megami with them? What's she visiting for? Well, to see him obviously, but Rika-ba's eldest is not somebody he was expecting to brave the Uchiha in order to visit; she's not a warrior or even a medic, she's a craftswoman.
A cooper specifically; the clan uses her cedar tubs and barrels for everything from storing rice to bathing in. Yes, she's the cousin closest to his age –just six months younger than him, so newly twenty– but they've never exactly been close.
Well, he will have to find out.
"Tobi-nii!"
Tobirama finds himself with an armful of cousin, Megami having hurried across the grass and thrown her arms around his neck. It's a little awkward, seeing as he only has one hand free and wasn't expecting this to happen, but as he takes a breath his nose fills with the scents of cedar and soap –Senju soap– and the pervasive earth-after-rain smell that a good many of his kin share.
Megami smells like home. Tobirama rests his face against the top of her head, hugs her with his free arm and tries not to cry.
"Megami," He manages finally, gently pushing himself away from her; she releases him. "It's good to see you again."
"Tobirama, we thought you were dead! And then Hashirama insists you aren't because 'oh the Conflagration said so' and then Tōka gets carried in, also not dead, insisting you're alive and well and married of all things!" Megami sniffs, then pulls a handkerchief from her obi to dab at her eyes. "I've been wanting to see you for months!"
Tobirama has a sudden feeling of foreboding. "To yell at me for making you cry?"
"YES!" His cousin hiccups, sniffs again and sags. "Also it's not fair that you look nicer in a kimono than I do."
"Your kimono is very fine," –and it is, rich crimson silk in blood red, damasked with a pattern of fawn-dapples, worn over a peach-pink dōnuki and belted by a white-tea-beige obi with a subtle lighter check background and brilliant blue bellflowers with vivid green leaves among hanging sprays of purple wisteria and yellow bamboo, bright and suitable for all seasons– "but I know for a fact Izuna spent a disgraceful amount of money on dressing me and intends to spend more."
"Oh well in that case," Megami chuckles wetly as behind her Ōka-ba's lips twitch. "I can live with how unfairly stunning you look dressed like a court beauty if it's just about money."
To his left Tobirama can feel his wife's amusement, along with that particular nuance that says she's hiding behind her fan again. It's the 'Peony Pavilion' fan, because Izuna truly has no shame whatsoever and enjoys making that everybody else's problem.
"Megami, my wife Izuna-san; Izuna-san, my cousin Megami-san."
"A pleasure to meet you! No, no silly bowing; I'm unofficial today, just coming along to spend a little time with my spouse and his relatives." Izuna does away with a good half of the formalities with an imperious flick of her fan, which is proof enough of power and privilege. "And who are these other ladies, Treasure?"
"My most honoured aunt, Ōka-san," –who is wearing plain pine-needle green with a brighter, richer green obi painted with stylised plover in black– and my cousin Keika-san."
"Your half-sister, Tobira-kun," Keika says firmly, splendidly dressed in a pink wisteria visiting kimono with hanging sleeves painted from lower hem to shoulder with ripples and flower rafts, her grass-green obi embroidered sparingly with pale plum petals and ruddy maple leaves. "Always your sister."
"Nee-san," Tobirama repeats obediently, throat tight, and gratefully receives the hug when she steps into him. Keika is short –well, shorter than Ōka-ba and Megami– but no less strong-minded for it. Possibly more so.
The musubi at the back of his sister's obi features a cluster of bright butterflies amongst more plum-blossom and maple leaves; it's very fine and also likely belonged to her mother, because in the Senju clan kimono this fine are only bought by highly successful warriors for their wives, as a show of affluence and ability. Keika is a medic and unmarried, although the letter from Koenma implies that she may not remain single for too much longer.
"I am delighted to meet you all," Izuna says warmly. "Shall we adjourn? Shiori-dono has been most gracious in agreeing to host us."
There is a brief flurry as his kin bow to their extremely self-effacing Aburame host, and then they all head into the guest compound and around the outside of the buildings to the south, down a meandering path through a low-lying garden to a small meadow above the riverbank where there are tatami laid out under a small canvas pavilion. Aburame Shiori invites them to sit, then makes sencha over a small brazier and serves it in brown-glazed cups painted with little white fireflies.
Tobirama takes a cup of tea and some arare and settles in to find out what his family want to talk about.
They talk about kimono and colours for some time, drinking tea and eating arare as Ōka-ba mentions the colours she saw various Hatake wearing at his mother's wedding, golden greens and deep greens as well as grey-greens, orange and rust and deep red, yellows both bright and dull as well as the more usual shades of black and grey favoured on formal occasions, and Megami and Keika debate what colours would suit him best, as well as what colours are currently fashionable –well Megami talks about that– and what prints.
Then his wife says her goodbyes, Shiori-dono pours more tea and serves kuzumochi and –once Izuna has truly left via the fuuinjutsu– the conversation turns.
"So, is the toddler boy with your mother's nose that Okaasan is so taken with actually your child, or?"
"Ōka-ba! No!" Tobirama is appalled she would think that; Kiso is nearly four! To be his father Tobirama would have to have conceived him at fifteen! He was an extremely responsible teenager and not at all given to that kind of thing, thank you. "He calls me 'stepfather' because I'm his guardian and married to his aunt. Well, Izuna-san is his parents' cousin, specifically."
"So how did you end up as guardian to an Uchiha child with a Hatake nose?" Keika asks reasonably.
"Izuna-san's grandmother is half-Hatake, from the Tiger summoning line," Tobirama says, pleased with how steady his voice is, "and Kiso and his infant cousin were the survivors of my run-in with some civilian Uchiha travelling in Frost Country last January. Kiso because he wasn't there and Kei-chan because she was too new to have a chakra signature; Izuna took responsibility for them after marrying me."
"Oh Tobi." Ōka-ba shuffles around and hugs him fiercely. "Uchiha civilians?"
"Civilian like Megami is civilian; taught a few basics for chakra control but not remotely interested in becoming a shinobi," Tobirama tries to explain into her shoulder, "but for Uchiha learning to manipulate Fire chakra is considered a normal civilian activity. I didn't, I couldn't,"
"Shh, it's fine," Obasan says firmly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know. You have never given less than your best, Tobira-kun, but mistakes can still be made in ignorance."
Yes. He made a mistake. He didn't know. "They were all part-Hatake Uchiha, Obasan," he tells her quietly, voice plaintive even in his own ears, "I, Kei-chan smells like 'Wara did as a baby and Kiso has his eyes and Lightning chakra. I'm teaching him to mushroom dance."
"Shh," his aunt repeats, rocking gently with her arms around him. "You're doing very well, Tobira. I'm sorry for not pressing my brother to write to the Hatake after you signed your mother's summoning contract; you seemed to be managing but managing isn't thriving." She pulls back to look searchingly at his face, though what she's looking for Tobirama couldn't say. "You look so much better than you did last time I saw you, nephew; I hadn't realised how much of that pallor of yours was sleep-deprivation."
"That was hardly your fault, Ōka-ba–"
"I am a medic, Tobirama; I am supposed to notice such things," she interrupts firmly. "You were over-worked and under-appreciated and would likely have killed yourself from stress far too young; I can't say I'm pleased you got abducted and coerced into an unequal marriage less than a fortnight after your twentieth birthday, but I can see you're being well cared-for."
What can he say to that? "Thank you, Ōka-ba." Should he say anything else? "If Shiori-dono agrees, I don't mind you examining me."
"That would be a weight off my mind," his aunt says candidly, turning to their self-effacing hostess.
"Izuna-sama has assured me that medical examinations are permissible with Tobirama-dono's consent," Shiori-dono says calmly, putting the iron kettle back on the brazier to heat for another round of tea, "but I would prefer to monitor such a thing, if I may Tobirama-dono."
Meaning, will he consent to having a kikaichū sit on him for the duration. "I have no objections, Shiori-dono."
Being examined by Ōka-ba while sat seiza on a blanket near a river in a fine kimono is not truly so different to being examined in her office. His aunt presses her fingers to his wrist and to his throat, her chakra mingling with his own as he obediently does not move –either his body or his chakra– and allows her to draw her conclusions.
"You're in better overall health if no longer quite at peak physical fitness," she says eventually, releasing him, "and you've just started a growth spurt, so be sure to warn that wife of yours before she buys you kimono you might well grow out of."
"I'm growing again?" Tobirama had honestly thought that last growth-spurt in his mid-teens had been his last.
"You are indeed; mostly in the legs, though your shoulders might well broaden a bit too. You'll never be as solid as Hashirama –your mother was slender as a willow sapling for all her height– but there's room there for a little more breadth, especially with all the work you've been putting into your muscles; I suspect you could give your brother a run for his money in brute strength if you had full access to your chakra again."
"Something to look forward to," Tobirama says philosophically; well at least that's his aches and pains explained. "I can't quite imagine being taller than Izuna-san." They've always been very much of a height; when they were young teenagers she was taller.
"You will just have to get used to it; she certainly won't be getting any taller."
That is true.
"So, Kei-chan, Tobi?" Megami asks once they have all settled in again and Shiori-dono has cleared away the remains of the kuzumochi.
"Uchiha Keigetsu," Tobirama says quietly; "she's eight months old." Yesterday afternoon little Kei-chan caught all of them out by rolling over when they weren't looking and almost crawling into the iori; she had not been capable of that degree of independent movement on Thursday, although she has been able to sit up by herself for a few months now.
"I remember Higi-kun at eight months," Megami says, smiling at the memory of her youngest brother; "it was as though every time I turned around he'd come up with some new way to get into trouble, despite barely being able to move from the spot. Stuck everything he could get his hands on in his mouth and regularly rolled under the furniture; it was like he wanted to be kicked."
Traditional Uchiha furnishings do have some advantages then. "The main problem is keeping her from crawling out of the shōji and off the edge of the engawa," Tobirama admits; they'd decamped into the garden after that, it being easier to allow the infant to roll around in the grass, shred flowers and eat dirt than to constantly drag her back from the edge of the engawa when she was determined to explore. He's sure there should be fuuinjutsu preventing her from doing that, but Izuna has fiddled the house security several times since Kiso's attempt to jump off the engawa. Maybe that feature had to go.
"Oh she sounds delightful," Ōka-ba says teasingly; Tobirama glares reproachfully at his only auntie who has never had a child. "None of that, nephew; I deal with the entire clan's children every time they're sick or injured, I've never wanted to go home to more of it after a full day of being vomited on and screamed at."
That's fair enough, even though Rika-ba is also a medic and frankly deals with children much more than Ōka-ba does. His oldest aunt reminds him of Kyōnari sometimes, having about equal interest in physical intimacy and the inevitable results thereof.
"Izuna-san likes children," he says instead, "and she's good with them; the clan's children trust her."
"That's a good sign," Keika says, relief colouring her tone and chakra. "She's looking forward to being a mother then?"
"I think so; she's worried about her brother not having heirs, but she does also want children for their own sake and has infinite patience for Kiso-kun and Kei-chan even when they're fractious and screaming."
"Children, not 'a child,' Tobira?" Megami asks perceptively.
Tobirama hesitates.
"It's not quite the done thing to speculate about a noblewoman's pregnancy, Senju-san," Shiori-dono says calmly, coming to his rescue. "Some people consider it to be bad luck."
"Ah, my apologies Aburame-sama," his cousin says instantly, "and sorry for putting you on the spot, Tobira; I suppose we'll all have to wait and see."
"Yes," Tobirama agrees gratefully. "How is Mito getting on?"
"Very well indeed! Sending Hashi running thither and yon trying to keep up with her cravings, of course, but he's certainly not complaining," Megami replies, shaking her head and smiling. "Melon and shiokara, of all things! He's running down to the south coast twice weekly, trying to keep her in cuttlefish viscera."
Tobirama winces; shiokara is made of salted fermented seafood innards and is very strong. He personally doesn't like it at all, so he's grateful to miss out on his sister-in-law's new obsession. "At least it isn't whale meat?" He offers, remembering that particular story all too well.
Keika laughs. "I don't think anybody is ever going to let Tanka-ba forget she made Obaasan crave whale meat for seven months straight when she was expecting."
It is indeed an extremely inconvenient craving in a clan as far from the sea as the Senju are.
"And then she came out with red hair," Ōka-ba agrees, shaking her head. "Never mind that whole business when Butsuma tried to marry her off."
"Whole business?" Tobirama asks. He's never actually heard this story. He knows it's unusual for his aunt to be so relentlessly single, never sharing her home with a widowed cousin or fellow warrior, but he never thought to question it until now.
"Oh, you would only have been three; anyway, when Tanka turned twenty Butsuma in his infinite wisdom decided she should settle down and marry," Ōka-ba says dryly.
"I can't imagine that going down well," Tobirama admits; Tanka-ba is very much a warrior.
"It didn't," Keika says flatly. "It went so badly, in fact, that Tanka-ba ran away to Uzushio and got pregnant by the current Uzumaki Heir, then came back two years later without her daughter, still stubbornly single."
"Sukemoto-san?" Tobirama double-checks. "Isn't he married?"
"He is now," Ōka-ba concedes, "but he wasn't then. Met Chiharu-san a year or so after Tanka left, I believe; from what news Okaa-san gets in her letters though I get the impression he's done very well by little Chika-chan. She's a good girl, very happy. Anyway, suffice it to say Butsuma never mentioned ever again that Tanka should marry. Or indeed ever offered a single unsolicited comment on how she chooses to live her life."
"I can see why." Looking back, Butsuma recognised Tanka-ba as a warrior but she almost ceased to exist to him off the field. With this new information in mind, that wilful blindness makes considerable sense.
"Do write to your brother though, please?" Ōka-ba adds, her tone making it clear this is not a request. "That way he'll stop harassing everybody else getting letters and direct his questions to you personally."
That does indeed sound entirely like Anija. "I'm sorry, I'll write him his own letter; who knows, maybe he'll write back." Anija is not very comfortable sitting down with brush in hand.
"Who knows, maybe it will even be legible," Keika mutters sourly. Tobirama snorts, flicking up his fan to hide his grin; Anija's calligraphy is not the best.
"Look at you, flirting with your fan like you've been doing it all your life," Megami teases, pulling out her own fan and fluttering it in front of her face.
"My wife has been setting an excellent example," Tobirama says lightly, tilting his head to blink innocently at his cousin over the upper edge of his gunsen, "and I have been promised tessenjutsu lessons."
"There's a scroll on that in the Archive," Ōka-ba says, frowning. "I think I've seen one, at any rate; I'll go have a look tomorrow. If there is one I'll pay somebody to write you up a fair copy, so you can compare techniques."
"Thank you Oba-san; I'd like that." The Senju Archive has all manner of random and esoteric techniques documented within it, but they're not stored in a particularly orderly fashion. If a person cares to make an effort though, they can generally learn something no other living person is proficient in; the Archives were where Tobirama found the scroll that really let him advance his Water ninjutsu, and also where Anija's Mokuton lessons came from, seeing as he's the first Senju in several generations to have it.
"Tokyōma's trying to instil a little order in the Archive, did you know?" Megami says. "I'm not sure if he's succeeding, but he's certainly putting a lot of effort in."
"Do tell?" That sounds like a study in futility to Tobirama, honestly; he knows some of what's in the Archive is hidden behind fuuinjutsu that won't let you even notice it's there unless you meet some standard set by whoever hid it, or can only be found by people of a certain gender or a specific chakra nature. Trying to tidy up that is never going to be fully successful, although it might be possible to otherwise separate out the historic documents from the jutsu scrolls.
"Well, I know it started when he was investigating legal precedents, but–"
"Have a good afternoon, Treasure?"
Tobirama smiles at his wife in the mirror as he brushes and braids her hair for bed. "I had a wonderful time, thank you. It was good to see my aunt and sister and cousin again."
"Hn. Do you know who you'll be seeing next week?"
"I was hoping I could invite some of my old squad." Yes, he's seen Chigi and Shurō fairly recently, but he'd like a chance to talk to Maki and Koenma and find out how they're getting on. Oh yes, and that reminds him: "Oba-san reminded me I should write to Anija."
"If you want to have tea with him I will have to do some additional negotiating," Izuna warns gently. "Supervising your non-warrior kin is one thing and even regular warriors can be accommodated, but with your brother I would have to ask Hikaku to chaperon as well as a more senior Aburame."
Tobirama nods; honestly, he'd appreciate Hikaku being there as well. It makes it less likely Anija might try to cart him off bodily. "I could invite Mito," he suggests; "yes she's pregnant so might say no, but Anija listens to her." Also it would give him the chance to show her a little Uchiha fuuinjutsu and enjoy her reaction; he's pretty sure her outrage will be very entertaining.
"Well, write your letters and we'll see."
Tobirama kisses the top of her head, then ties off the end of her braid. "Thank you, Izuna."
She rises and turns to kiss him in return. "I want you to be comfortable, Shikii," she murmurs. "These are things I can give you, so why shouldn't I?"
Tobirama can think of many reasons why not, but doesn't voice them. "I didn't get a chance to look in that document chest today," he says instead, handing over the comb so she can tend to his hair in turn.
"Well, there's tomorrow."
"Will you be free tomorrow?" Usually she's free all day on Tuesdays, but given the negotiations that's not guaranteed right now.
"Tomorrow morning, certainly," Izuna agrees, "but Nii-san is leaving on a mission at noon so I will be nominally on-call from then in the event of any Outguard work that will not wait until Thursday."
"Your Wednesday lesson with your aunt is cancelled, then?" Tobirama asks idly, enjoying the scrape of the comb tines over his scalp.
"Less 'cancelled' and more that seeing as the trade-related work my Lord-Father has set aside for me is as much Homeguard as Outguard, I will be expected to continue working on that."
Tobirama nods; that's sensible and practical. "How is Naka Two-Swords doing?" Part of what Izuna was planning on doing this afternoon was visiting her, as her former Squad Leader is eight months pregnant and not enjoying the heat.
"She's grumpy," Izuna says easily, "but doing well apart from that. Made me sing for her and fed me mochi, as usual, in between snacking on pickled daikon and complaining about her ankles having swollen up."
Evidently there's something about pregnant ladies and pickles, but Tobirama is smart enough not to comment on it.
"The baby's due the week after the Chrysanthemum Festival," Izuna adds, "but seeing as Sakuya-chan was a week early the midwives are taking no chances."
"Sensible," Tobirama agrees, yawning; he got quite a lot done today. He's pleased.
"How soon do you think it will be cool enough to call your leopards back?"
Tobirama hums, thinking about it. "Usually I don't bother before the first of September," he admits, "but it does depend on the weather. It's fairly cool right now, so Tōnari-ba wouldn't have minded today, but it's generally not consistently cool enough until the equinox."
He doesn't ask why she's asking; there's a cat washing its fur on the top of his tansu that is the answer to that question. No, Madara hasn't wandered over to the Amaterasu Residence in his sleep again, but then again it took him some time to do that in the first place. And without anybody to test them on, there's no way of telling whether Izuna's anti-sleepwalker fuuinjutsu works as it should.
His wife presses a kiss to the back of his neck, making him shiver. "We'll get there, Treasure."
"Hm." Tobirama lets the quiet stretch out, his wife's fingers in his hair and the gentle tugging on his scalp pleasantly soothing. "Sleep beside me tonight, Izuna?"
"Just sleep?"
"To begin with, yes," Tobirama assures her. "If we wake in the night with something else in mind, well we can discuss it then." He knows they will wake; summer makes early mornings inevitable, which they try to balance with early nights at least some of the time, but an early night means waking in the cool dimness of the pre-dawn, and when awake in the dark in the arms of a scantily-clad spouse, the obvious does rather spring to mind.
"That sounds very enjoyable," his wife agrees, tying off his braids. "Let us settle in then."
Tobirama turns and kisses her, just because he can, and then lets himself be led to his futon. Kiso is already asleep and has been for over an hour, so won't wake before breakfast time even if they get out Izuna's shamisen and a drum and play music all night; Tobirama suspects explosions couldn't wake him either, he's that sound a sleeper.
Which is just as well, all things considered. Izuna is many things, but she's not at all shy about making sure he knows what she likes in bed.