I want to say that Hashirama was like an open book which you could open and immediately realize what it contained. At the tender age of fifteen, I thought so. And yet now I realize that I likely never knew him, not really. There was so much more beneath that first, or even beneath the second layer of his personality. So much more, and maybe so much less. I will never know and in a way I think he never wanted me to know.

I sometimes wonder if Hashirama let him know…

-Gratitude-

She stormed into the large meeting tent, disturbing what clearly looked like a tense discussion between Hashirama and his younger brother, Tobirama. The white-haired Senju straightened, his ever present scowl turning into an almost invisible line.

"Lady Mito," said Tobirama in greeting, bowing slightly toward her and quickly exiting the tent.

"My brother believes it is unwise to involve you in all of this," murmured Hashirama as soon as Tobirama's chakra signature faded in the crowd of the campsite. "He is a traditionalist, thinking a woman's role is… well, no matter."

"And what do you think, Hashirama-dono?"

His fingers played with a small message with the Hyuuga seal upon it. No doubt, news of her agreement with Hyuuga Hideki reached him earlier than she did. Hashirama turned to look at her, the flickering light of candles playing over his warm, chocolate eyes.

"I think you're the best thing that's happened to us."

There was something different in him, like someone had taken the foolish, exuberant man she had come to know and replaced him with this sober leader she had only seen glimpses of. How could a man's personality be so fluid, like wind swishing through leaves, turning this way and that?

"Your gratitude is —"

"I know you didn't do this for me," he said, interrupting her polite reply. "You must think me a fool, but I am aware of the situation back in Uzushio. I am sure that, were the situation different, you would have continued on with your life on the island, away from this war, this camp…me."

Mito's heart constricted at that last, mournful word. This man was to be her husband, chosen or not. Was knowing that you are not chosen to be someone's life partner just as painful as being unable to choose? She supposed such knowledge carried its own brand of pain. In that she could sympathize with him. Her features softened, a feeling of camaraderie blooming in her chest. Suddenly she wanted to be honest with him, to stop hiding behind her manners and words.

"Here we are, stranded in the same boat. Me unable to choose, and you not being chosen. How pitiful, the two of us."

A shadow passed over Hashirama's features, darkening them for a moment. Yet like a shifting breeze, the mood passed, his warm eyes flickering with gold in the candle's light. "Must the lack of choice impact our future so much? I prefer to leave the past behind and look to the future, make my own happiness. Will you join me?"

His words made her feel bold, reckless. She should have ducked her head and give him a demure nod. That was what proper ladies did to their future husbands. But from the very beginning she did not feel inclined to act as such toward Hashirama. He was brash, had little to no sense of propriety, manners or any idea how to appropriately attach a suffix to one's name. And yet, he was honest, kind and so hopeful that he inspired everyone around him.

"Join as your wife, or as a fellow partner in the creation of this village?" she asked, her chin lifting up in defiance.

Hashirama smiled, a disarming sort of grin that lit up the room. "As whatever you want to be." His grin fell abruptly. "I may be your future husband, Mito-chan, but I am not your jailor. You can be whoever you want, do whatever pleases your heart. And if you decide to offer something in return, I will take whatever you give me."

Warmth bloomed in her heart and cheeks, leaving Mito both happy and conflicted, her eyes lowering in gratitude.