Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Hashirama grumbled under this breath. His father Butsuma had made him go to yet another battle against the Uchiha. He was just 8 for crying out loud! But no, his father had said he was ready for war. "You should've gone sooner. I went to war when I was four," he had said. Pfft, four my foot. He was six when he first went to war. The bloodshed left his mind reeling for weeks. Had it not been for one of his kinsmen who had sacrificed himself for him, he'd be six feet under the ground. That caused him to step out of his moment of stupor and start fighting. Later that night he had received a thorough beating from his father because that man's life had gone to waste to protect a weakling like him. Had his mother not interfered...he did not want to imagine what would have happened. Little three-year old Tobirama had stared motionlessly at him as their father beat the living daylights out of the six-year old Hashirama. But Hashirama knew better than that cool facade. His brother was hurting inside, he just didn't want to show it. He had grown to known that the little white-haired boy was a tad bit too mature than most children his age.
He could speak clearly with a vocabulary so advanced that Hashirama needed to find a dictionary to know which word meant what, despite having a childish voice. He could sense chakra, as one day he screamed loudly when some few Hyuugas had camped a kilometer away from their village. He kept on yelling, thrashing that someone bad was here to get them. The Hyuugas' chakra had been menacing fair enough. Butsuma had decided to investigate and sent scouts only to find a camp of Hyuugas which had been planning to gather intel on the Senju clan. The sensors in his village had confirmed that the Hyuugas' had been hostile enough to scare even a teenager. His father was disappointed when it came to Hashirama. He was too soft, not hostile enough, too kind, too polite. Hashirama himself was the least bit bothered by it. His father wasn't going to stop him from being a nice person. He was going to become clan head one day. And he wanted to become someone that his calm wouldn't fear but love. And so he started preparing now by being the kindest person he could be. Besides, he was naturally a good person so what the heck! He discovered he had Mokuton at the age of seven. He hoped that maybe his father would be a bit soft on him but it only grew worse. He trained Hashirama like a maniac, always complaining how he was failing to use his powers to protect his kinsmen. Many a times, he would say he wished Tobirama had been the one to receive the Mokuton. He would use it more wisely than he ever would. Tobirama would tell him that he knew better how to use the Mokuton than he ever would. He tried to hate his father but he never could. Butsuma was his father after all. Though he rarely displayed affection, Hashirama treasured those moments when his father would compliment him, a pat to that head, a ghost of a smile. Yes, he was Butsuma Senju, his one and only father.
So back to the beginning of the story, the eight-year old had been tasked by his father to help his kinsmen inspect their war captives, who would do what. He always clashed with his father on the idea of war but Butsuma would listen to none of it. "War is the only way to get rid of those disgusting Uchiha and those annoying pathetic excuses of clans," he would say spitefully more often than not. He watchef as the prisoners trugged forward, stopping momentarily to be inspected by the Senju and being assigned to their duties after writing their names down. And that's when he had seen her.
She was short, looked barely four with a tattered brown kimono. Or was it blue, he couldn't decipher the color due to the amount of dirt on it. She had short pink hair which ended just above her shoulders, the edges choppy. No doubt her hairdresser didn't pay much attention to that. Some of it covered her slightly larger-than-normal forehead. Perhaps she felt insecure about it. Eventually, she was going to grow out of it, he thought. What was striking about her was her eyes. Not the color, though he had to admit green looked pretty good on her. He expected to find the usual pained, hopeless look he found in almost every war captive. Her eyes were alert, looked about ready to take the world by storm. They were so vivid, so full of life, like spring. He chuckled at his description. But sure enough they looked lively. She was clutching onto a blonde haired female who looked thoroughly annoyed by the little girl clutching onto her red kimono. The woman was dressed elegantly than most war captives with her well-tailored kimono, well applied make-up and hair done into an intricate bun. Perhaps she felt guilty that the pink haired girl had lost her relatives during the war and was going to drop her off to the guards as soon as she could. Or maybe she was a relative, mother, aunt, sister anything. She had the same green eyes.
Hashirama made his way to the front of the line, trying not to look too intrigued by the pink-haired girl who was now alone, the beautiful blonde already gone. He settled himself nonchalantly beside Tanaki who was writing down the names and duties. "Young Master," he said as he bowed hurriedly, not noticing the Senju heir who had been standing there for quite a while. "Tanaki-san, no need to be so formal," the brown-haired boy said as he scratched his head sheepishly. Tanaki gave him a smile before turning to look at someone with a scowl. "What are you looking at, you little scum?" he snarled at the pink-haired who was looking at Hashirama with wide glassy eyes. Hashirama turned to find the little girl looking at him squarely. He fought down a blush, as no one has looked at him that squarely without a hint of fear or wonder. Even Tobirama looked at him like he was some god. She looked like she was trying to figure who he was. Perhaps she didn't know that he was the Senju heir... He couldn't blame her. His bowl cut hairstyle made him look more like a commoner than an heir.
"Nothing," she said as she looked away, almost as if dismissing the both of them. That ticked him off. She turned away as though he didn't deserve a second of her time. It was understandable. He was her war capturer and she was a war captive. "How dare you dismiss Young Master like that, you little brat?!" Tanaki said as he grabbed her by her hair. "Owww!" she cried at the action. Hashirama wanted to tell him to stop it but his lips remained shut, wanting to see how this turned out. "Get down on your knees and apologize. Now!" he shoved her done into her knees. "I'm sorry!" she shrieked in a high pitched voice, typical of a four-old as she bowed her head to the ground. "Say it louder!" the man repeated dangerously. "I'm sorry!" she cried out, her voice thick with tears and head still bowed. "Tanaki-san, I think that's enough," Hashirama spoke finally. The man's harsh words died on his lips. "I-I'm sorry Young Master. It's just that she was..." his words once again died in his mouth at the glare Hashirama sent him. Rarely did Hashirama glare.
He moved forward and crouched down at the girl who was face down on the ground. "Miss, my name is Hashirama. Are you okay?" he said softly as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She hesitated for a moment before raising her head to look at him. A second or so passed before her eyes filled up with tears and suddenly the girl was sobbing loudly. "M-Miss, I didn't mean to scare you," a frantic Hashirama said as he tried to calm the crying girl but it only made her cry louder. "Young Master, I think I should handle her," Tanaki said to a distressed Hashirama. Suddenly feeling angry with himself, he stormed off without saying goodbye as he usually did. He did not notice a pair of teary green eyes which followed him as he made his way inside the compound.
"Aniki, are you okay?" asked a six-year old Tobirama who was holding toddlers Itama and Kawarama by their hands. The toddlers stared at their big brother with curious eyes, both eager to jump at him. But Tobirama had noticed his brother's cranky mood, having sensed his hostile chakra as he approached their room and decided that it was best to let him cool off. Hashirama did the craziest things when he was mad. "I'm fine," he bit out. "I'm going to train," he said in a clipped tone as he grabbed his sword. "I wanna go too!" cried Itama. "Yeah, me too!" four-year old Kawarama said with the same vigor. Hashirama's expression softened momentarily. "You can join me when you're all grown up like Tobirama," he said with a smile. "Yeah, I'm gonna be like Tobi-nii!" five-year old Itama shouted in his child-like voice. "I'm gonna be like Hashirama-nii!" Kawarama said eagerly. "I'm going out now," the brown-haired boy said as he walked out. Immediately, the mean expression returned and Tobirama sighed exasperatedly. Having to deal with a moody Hashirama was troublesome enough. He could either follow him or stay with his two motherless siblings. She had died on the night she gave birth to Kawarama, the youngest of them. Staying with them was a better option.
There are very few HashiSaku fanfics and I'm so disappointed that I decided to write my own. So I hope you enjoy it. Reviews are much appreciated.
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