Cold sweat beading on his forehead, Izuna grits his teeth as his body rebels from the punishing pace. He concentrates instead on thoughts of home, of the familiar scents of charred wood that always permeate their house, the intermittent explosive boom of katons from the training fields, the children's shrieks as they start horsing around in the compound proper since during snowy winter days there is less danger of setting things of fire, the songs of the hearth… his breath plumes white into the air and he feels a jolt of pain in his side when he tries pumping more chakra into his legs.
Kaoru catches his arm as he stumbles slightly on a rut in the road. "Izuna-sama," he hears the boy's worried whisper.
Izuna squeezes Kaoru's arm back and continues. Nevertheless, he observes how the other Uchiha in the group throw sideways glances and slowly shift formation, closing ranks around him. The Senju have observed this too, from Irie's stiff movements. Naoko seems unbothered, but her rhythm is slightly off. Not for the first time Izuna wonders if he should just cut them down and send their pieces back to the Senju, making his stance clear. But then, he does not have enough information, so he cannot act yet.
They meet Senju patrols on the way and Izuna has to remind himself he must not attack on sight.
Brisk nods are exchanged between the Senju, the captain gives a shallow bow towards him and then they're off again into the knee deep snow.
The snowfall thickens, making it almost impossible to see the person one step away. They all flare their chakra, making sure they do not lose sight of one another.
Finally, finally, they are home.
Five days later, Izuna sits cross-legged in front of a small brazier admiring the garden during snowfall. The sliding doors are fully opened to the vista, as if it were a summer day. His breath plumes, mingling with the charcoal smoke and the small splint of agarwood he had placed on top.
It is cold. So very cold. His clothes are more suited for a sunny autumn day, letting the humid cold seep into the marrow of his bones. The brazier is the only warm point in all the stillness and the cold. It helps him focus.
He raises his gaze from the golden-red of fire to the snowy landscape in front of him. The snowfall is unusually thick this year. They had already shoveled the snow twice, and now the snow is once more climbing to the top of the engawa. Soon it will pass that level, and they will have to take care that the roofs do not break from the gathered snow.
Tobirama suddenly appears into the garden, walking lightly above the pristine blanket of snow, marring the stillness and serenity of the tableau
He stops at the entrance, slapping snow from his shoulders before stepping on the engawa and then waits for Izuna's invitation to step inside.
Izuna closes his eyes and says nothing.
"You threw the scarf away," he hears Tobirama's accusing voice.
You threw the scarf away, Izuna repeats in his mind. That was the first thing Tobirama said. Not "how dare you send my spies away", not "what in the seven hells are you doing", but the scarf. Did it matter that much to Tobirama?
Izuna opens his eyes slowly, nodding to Tobirama. "My onijin," he greets, the whisper of mockery threading his voice like the thin thread of curling smoke under his nostrils. He does not invite Tobirama in. "I put it to be burned. Why did you come? Felt the red thread of fate which connected us turn to ash and hurried to see if I fared alright? You are quite late then," he bites out, analysing Tobirama's pale face. Red and white, blood on snow.
Tobirama's eyes narrow.
"What the hell are you doing?" He belatedly asks the question he should have asked from the beginning as he steps in, apparently deciding he did not need Izuna's consent. Izuna lets him be, cocking his head to listen to his footsteps.
"You sent the medics away," Tobirama states. "And you look like shit. How do you fare?"
"Did burning the scarf summon you?" Izuna asks in turn, prying into the opening he has been given.
He practically hears Tobirama bristle like a pricked hedgehog. "I am not yours to summon."
"But you did come," Izuna states with satisfaction. Tobirama is rattled, teetering on uneven footing, and Izuna savours it. "I did have some questions I thought you'd he more amendable to answer if I asked them in my home." His tone hardens. "I suspected and it was confirmed by the medics, that more than fifty percent of my chakra is siphoned off." He pauses, lets it sink in. "Any jutsu you might know of?" He asks innocently.
He hears Tobirama's sigh as the Senju seats himself in front of him. "You were supposed to die," Tobirama informs him bluntly.
Izuna nods, unsurprised.
"Your body needed more than what your chakra could give to heal so I used a form of advance payment to keep you alive."
"Advance payment," Izuna echoes. "For how long?"
Tobirama's armour creaks as he shrugs. "At least seven years," he says.
"Was this the only way?" Izuna asks idly.
"You were not the only casualty," Tobirama reminds him angrily.
Izuna smiles thinly. "Of course," he replies, bowing, "how fortuitous that I will be at less than half capacity for the foreseeable future."
" Physical capacity," Tobirama growls, "your mind is perfectly fine."
Izuna hums. He does not tell Tobirama about his nightmares, the constant exhaustion, the pain.
As soon as he got back, he had looked at documents, treaties and searched for similarities to peace negotiations in the history of the nations. He trained until he vomited then trained until he passed out. And then, yesterday night, Madara came home.
"I am fine," Izuna grinds out.
Tobirama stalks closer, angry. "You are not! You look as if you'd keel over any second, and you have exerted too much."
"I have chakra depletion."
"The jutsu had to feed itself."
"Why did you really save me," Izuna asks to stall him.
"Because trying for peace after killing family members is bad form," Tobirama replies as he settles back down, this time at Izuna's side. " What have you done?"
What had he done? Well, Izuna had done many things those past few days. "A leader of the clan is always busy," he answers with an infuriating smile.
The second day after his arrival, he had informed the clan elders about his decision, asking them to present a united front when Madara came back. They were hesitant, but they could not afford to have two blind clan leaders, so in the end they agreed.
"Izuna-sama," Gennou, the head medic, bowed to him gravely. "Thank you for your sacrifice."
Izuna nodded. "What do I need to prepare for the procedure?"
Gennou looked hesitant. "Izuna-sama, maybe it is better to wait a little bit before committing. Consolidate your position within the village and do it afterwards."
"We have to do it now," Izuna replied implacably.
Gennou sighed. "The jutsu itself is quite simple and quick, but it has two variants, one for the donor and one for the receiver. The donor has a more invasive variant of the jutsu used, equivalent to ripping one's eyes out together with all their nerve endings and their chakra pathways, that might prove too dangerous in your present health. It is usually almost guaranteed death. As you are still recovering…"
"This doesn't matter," Izuna interrupted him firmly.
Gennou looked at him disapprovingly. "You are our leader, Izuna-sama," he said reproachfully. "You would leave your brother alone?"
Izuna leaned forward on his zabuton. "Gennou, trust me," he urged, "if we do not do it now, the chance will be lost. I do this because I am the leader. I do not know what illusion the Senju have woven around your eyes, but I know."
Gennou bowed low, forehead touching the floor. "I believe you, Izuna sama," he said resignedly.
"When will my brother be back?" Izuna asked the most important question.
"They should be here in two or three days," Gennou replied. "You still have time to think about it."
Izuna smiled humorlessly. "Thank you, Gennou."
In the meanwhile, Izuna threw himself into recovery exercises and political meetings with clan heads and the nascent Machi-bugyo. There were so many rules and regulations to make, the force to gather and prepare, it took most of his free time, no doubt what Tobirama had intended.
The fourth day, Madara came back.
"Aniki," he greeted happily, drinking in the sight of his older brother. It will be the last time he'll see Madara smiling with delight as he greets Izuna back.
"Aniki," he started right before Madara would start eating, "I ask for an audience."
Madara put the chopsticks down with a frown. Izuna steeled himself. "The Senju-Uchiha Alliance-"
"-is something that is done," Madara interrupted him. "Please. Do not try to start war again." His brother's eyes were hollow. Izuna's heart squeezed painfully.
He shook his head. "I am not against peace," he assured his brother, "but please think. I know they have forced your hand with me," he argues bitterly, "but joining them in a village is a mistake."
"Izuna," Madara said, "Hashirama was ready to become shinin before you died. Nobody informed you of that, did they?" He sighed. "We both put our lives on the line for this dream. It is the way to move forward."
"Aniki, please see the truth," Izuna implored him. "The truth is that we lost. The truth is, they used me as leverage and they tried to keep me away from decision making. I slept the past half year. Do you really think it was a coincidence? Tobirama is going according to the wishes of his brother, but he will stop at nothing to see it done. Who knows, maybe it could be a way to get rid of our clan-"
"Don't over speculate!" Madara warned him.
Izuna took a deep breath and nodded in apology. "I can see that they have thrown us some very appealing propositions, but paper is different from real life."
"No, Izuna, it is important that we are seen together," Madara said quietly. "The two of us as well."
Izuna grimaced. "I will present an united front with you, aniki," he promised, "but I will speak my mind."
Madara nodded, his hand creeping back to the chopsticks. It made Izuna feel bad, he knew his brother was hungry, but now he had the opportunity to ask. "If you want a lasting collaboration, and a role in its governance, you need to be whole, don't you?" He asked just as Madara raised the first bite to his mouth.
Madara put the chopsticks down and sighed, rubbing at his eyes.
"You are the leader and the older brother," Izuna continued pleadingly.
Madara did not meet his gaze.
"It has to be you," Izuna said categorically. "It has to be now."
"You are so cruel, little brother," Madara said, voice tight.
Izuna himself is tense as a bowstring ready to snap. "I love you," he replied. "Let's go."
Madara followed.
The pain was as if his eyes had been gouged out, which to be fair, they were. Izuna laughs hysterically. He wants to die, for living like this, with a missing limb, not seeing, losing the thing that made him superior…but for the clan, for the clan, for his brother he will do it. He has to do it.
He wants to rip the marble prosthetics stuffed inside his sockets, it hurts, there is something missing, there is no light.
He is dizzy, and there is blackness, true blackness surrounding him, drowning him.
He had wanted to be alone, not to distress Madara but now, now he wants to feel, to anchor himself on someone, anyone.
There is an anchor now, in front of him, the pale Senju, the pale ghost, now solid and furious in front of him. He had stayed silent for too long, Izuna realises, so the charade has been called off.
He tastes Tobirama's rage, rolling from him in suffocating waves. "What have you done?" Tobirama thunders. Izuna cradles the feeling of triumph, vindicated.
He cannot use the sharingan to remember it. He cannot see it. He can only imagine his face, at seeing how Izuna had thwarted his plans, how he had given his brother something to fight with and gets drunk on the heady taste of triumph.
"What have you done?" Tobirama screams, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him.
Izuna fights the nausea crawling in his throat, the splitting headache but still a moan of pain escapes his lips as Tobirama finally releases Izuna's genjutsu with a burst of chakra and sees the bandages over his eyes.
"Was my genjutsu any good?" He can't resist asking as Tobirama checks his eyes, gently taking the bandage off.
"Very subtle," Tobirama replies curtly, then scowls, rears back up, remembering his rage.
Izuna snorts, amused. Better than wallowing in pain.
"Why didn't you use any chakra to enhance the healing?" Tobirama snaps as usual.
"Some things should heal on their own," Izuna replies calmly. "Especially if there is a price to be paid," he adds pointedly.
He hears Tobirama snarl something under his breath as he does a very simple chakra healing sweep, easing his inflammation and dulling the pain.
"Why so put out?" He asks curiously as Tobirama's hands cradle his face. He almost leans in, as the soothing feeling of healing chakra is welcome. "I thought you would be happy. I imagined you ripping my bloody bandages away, digging into my sockets. I had a quip prepared about that, too, but I forgot it when Gennou scooped my eyes out. Had something to do with you putting your hands where they do not belong? You poked around in my gut as well, from what I remember."
He holds up a hand, catches the Senju's wrist. Tobirama's hand trembles slightly. He feels the quickened pulse and raises an eyebrow. "But I cannot cry now, so that's a plus, am I right?" He continues, forcing cheer into his voice. "And your previous threats are now null," he finishes, satisfied.
Tobirama must be livid, Izuna thinks, but he cannot see. A small pang of regret, but this is childish. Worse than this is that he can no longer see his brother, he can no longer read documents, he can no longer see the change of seasons, watch the sunset bleed into the night…he can no longer cry and so he laughs as Tobirama keeps utterly still.
Izuna hears the harsh breaths, can almost see the gritted teeth, the cold gaze, red and narrowed, the way he tries to stop himself from doing..what? He has managed to unsettle Tobirama, he realises with satisfaction and a sliver of unease. What did Tobirama have in mind for him, that he is so furious to see his plans thwarted?
Rage washes over him so suddenly and violently he feels he'll drown in it.
"Izuna," Tobirama says voice trembling with anger, "Izuna, Izuna, Izuna, Izuna."
Tobirama keeps repeating his name like a mantra or a curse, as if he really wanted to kill him with his rage alone, then abruptly gets up and leaves.
He goes towards the place Madara is.
A smile pulls at Izuna's lips. He has won the first fight. His brother will not be crippled.
The first battle from the war has been won.
And yet, there is something he does not understand.
Tobirama's anger.
His hand reflexively tightens on the kunai hidden in his sleeve when he feels Tobirama stride back towards him. There is a rustling sound and a thick haori settles on his shoulders like a warm embrace while the Senju storms away.
Izuna freezes. He is indeed anchored by the warmth but his control is slipping. The coldness he had welcomed to keep him sane and steady is retreating and he hates it.
He hates Tobirama for effectively killing him and bringing him back to life, for forcing Izuna to be burdened with a life debt to his enemy, for making a narrative where Tobirama is forever on the socially and morally superior position, for his gifts that only serve to further Izuna's humiliation, for-
The haori's weight and warmth become unbearable so he shrugs it off violently and walks out on the icy cold engawa bare footed. Snow had already piled there, soft like feathers and cold like ice. He steps out into the garden, his feet padding silently over the thick blanket of snow.
He is embraced by countless tiny snowflakes that caress his cheeks and melt with burning cold into rivulets of tears he no longer has. They gather on his hair, his clothes and he feels their accumulated weight, a welcomed embrace.
His body is ravaged by the effects of the eye stealing jutsu, his chakra paths in disarray, dried up rivulets instead of the rushing torrent he used to have, but he is still someone to be feared.
He is not a cripple.
Izuna activates his channels, strengthening muscles and tendons, bones and nerves with precision so as not to waste any energy and puts his hands together in the Tiger seal and Shunshins away.
He has been patrolling the Uchiha lands since he was six. He does not need eyes to see.
shinin 死人was a price paid by the family of one who had killed another from another clan, another from their own family as payment. That person could be killed by the grieving family, although it rarely happened.
It's basically what happens in canon. Hashirama offers to be the shinin for Tobirama's killing of Izuna.