呉越同舟:Enemies thrown together by chance


Madara feels Izuna's weight on him, heavier than any other burden he had ever carried. His brother looks back definitely at Hashirama, his will just as strong and unwavering as before. And yet, his side is slick with blood; the cloth had stuck on his side. The blood had penetrated Madara's own clothing to the skin. He feels Izuna's warm blood on his own skin and he knows his little brother is dying.

He is desperate for this to stop, to stop the violence that this time wants to take his little brother, his last remaining family away. There are so many brothers, so many fathers and children on this battlefield.

He wants to say yes to peace, to get away from the violence, but Izuna, coughing blood, snarls and mocks Hashirama's speech.

Madara prepares to retreat, wanting to keep his brother close in his last moments, with no outside interference.

Then, Tobirama comes and despite the tiredness that slows his limbs, despite his own wounds, suggests something that makes him pause.

He knew Izuna would die. And yet Tobirama offers him hope, something not even Hashirama dared to do, although now that it had been offered, Hashirama agrees and offers to help as well.

Madara loves his brother. It is all he has left, except for the clan. He does not say it out loud, but his brother always comes before everything else. He wants Izuna to live, so he takes the chance, despite the worry, despite the pain, despite the separation. He kisses his brother's forehead and lets him go.

The Uchiha retreat.


Tobirama eases Izuna on an improvised pallet and instructs his assistants to take off the Uchiha's clothes, assessing the damage while he bandages his hands. The Pure Hands seals activate, making his hands free of anything that might interfere with the body.

His assistants look at him in trepidation. "Karura, go and help the others," Tobriama orders the older man, "Irie, prepare the wound sealing tags."

Karura leaves immediately, stopping nearby where Ichiro is moaning in pain, both of his legs crushed and half of his body burnt.

Irie takes out a small light green scroll of medical supplies and presses his thumb at its base. The scroll opens, revealing ten stacks of sealing tags of different sizes. "How many stacks do you need?" Irie asks him.

"I will choose them," Tobirama said. "Also, the Blood Stasis should be in a dark brown scroll."

Irie bowed his head.

Tobirama checks the body. The Raijin had sliced deep into Izuna's left side. The blood flows copiously but he can imagine the liver and spleen at least must have been hit. He has to make sure.

His hands plunge in, palping the organs while a distant part of his mind catalogs his technique's efficiency. The liver was indeed pierced, as was the spleen and some of its veins. Izuna was losing yin through his blood; its yang was dissipating fast and formless into his blood. Since it could not efficiently regulate the ki either, Izuna's chakra coils are starting to dry up. The spleen, the source of ki and blood was hit heavily. They have to be fast.

He slowly rotates the intestine, lifts up the bleeding duodenum and looks underneath. The entrails are sticky and slippery already, a bad sign. "Keep it in position," he tells Irie as he checks the pancreas. The distal part of the pancreas was almost sectioned off.

Tobirama takes his hands out while Irie holds the organs in place, takes off his bandages then puts on a new pair.

He spreads the stacks, choosing three of each, orders them evenly, one by one, then plunges his hands again, putting the seals in the worst ruptures and activating them. It was something two people should have done, but he is not able to spare anyone else. Irie helps by making it easy for Tobirama to get to the hemorrhaging sites.

"Have you ever tried divination on entrails?" Tobirama suddenly asks his assistant.

"Er what? Who?" The boy replies, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush. His face is pale.

"The liver is a good place to start," Tobirama remarks. "If the colour is lighter to the top side, and does not have any bumps or burst vessels on its lobes, it is good. If any lobe is sectioned, it is a bad sign."

Irie looks nauseous. Tobirama's light voice trails off and he sighs. "We could do a full divination on his spleen, liver and gallbladder."

"That is easy," Irie replies, voice shaking slightly. "He is close to death."

Tobriama smiles grimly. "We're going to make a divinator from you yet. But what does his death or life bode for our future, I wonder." He takes his hands out and puts the largest seals on the entry wound, stopping the flow of blood to a mere trickle. It was important not to stop the body completely. It also meant Izuna was still bleeding, only much slower. He takes out his own experimental seal and puts one over each of the five organs: heart, lungs, liver, spleen and kidney, putting Izuna's body in a state of suspended animation. It might keep him alive until they arrived at the healing wards. He activates the seals, feeling the chakra drain from his body as he feels all the functions of the Uchiha's body slow to an almost stop.

"Water?" He hears Irie's inquiring voice. The boy looks at him hopefully, offering him a flask.

Tobirama takes it. "Thank you," he murmurs while straining his ears for Hashirama's signal that all is well.

"Hashirama dono is speaking with the Uchiha clan leader," Irie commented.

Tobirama hums noncommittally as he gets up to survey the rest of the patients. Fortunately there were not that many heavily injured.

He whirls as he senses a presence at his back but it is just his older brother, face tired but hopeful. "He said he will give it a try," Hashirama tells his brother. This time, Tobirama does not mention that he already knew that, since he had been there when they had been convinced. Hashirama reiterating it means Madara had been close to calling it off.

Hashirama's gaze falls on the prone form of the Uchiha. "Will he live?" He asks.

Tobirama shrugs. "The divination was inconclusive."

Hashirama's eyes widen. "What?"

"Can we take the wounded and leave or do we have to expect another attack?" Tobirama asks bluntly.

Hashirama shakes his head. "No attack." He fidgets. In Tobirama's experience, Hashirama only fidgets when he did something really idiotic.

"What!" He thunders.

"We also took a couple other Uchiha," his brother admits, "since their medics are not very good and they would have died there…" his voice trails off when he sees Tobirama's livid expression.

"So our medics, stretched thin as they are, are responsible for yet other patients?" He shouts, voice carrying like thunder. "Don't you dare exhaust yourself over this," he snarls.

"Karura!" He shouts. "Organise the retreat and send a messenger in front to relay the conditions so we know what rooms to take them in. For Uchiha Madara's brother we need a bigger seal; we need additional seals for promoting the functions of the liver and spleen. He seems to have fire affinity, which makes his heart behave erratically now, so we need additional restraint on that. We need five sealed containers of Replenishing Water there as well. And Irie, afterwards, take full stock of the medical supplies we have left and who needs them the most."

Karura starts shouting orders over the din, as they slowly organise and start moving. Tobirama keeps a slower pace than most, as the seals used for Blood Stasis were sensitive and could break at any moment. He puts a final Sleeping Seal on Izuna's forehead, and rolls him in a blanket, hoping to prolong his life that way.

Finally, after two days, Tobirama is led to the second largest room ward. The floor is almost entirely taken by the pentagram showing the interrelation between the organs and the entrails, with additions at the points corresponding to Izuna's damage. He eases the Uchiha down, taking off the blanket.

He had started bleeding again and he is so weak, Tobirama only feels the smallest flutter when he checks the femoral artery. His extremities are cold, his lips and nails dark blue. The eyes open, sharingan activated, staring sightlessly. Blood vessels have ruptured from the strain, making his eyes bleed.

Hashirama hurries in the room just as Tobirama finishes arranging the Uchiha inside the seal. His brother's chakra reserves are already low and he looks exhausted, but Tobirama has to ask him to do more. To tire himself more.

Irie moseys in as well, a roll of used bandages still hanging over his arms.

"Put them away, Irie, we do not want contamination," Tobirama scolds. The boy flushes and hurriedly activates his Pure Hands Seal.

"He is a bit young," Hashirama says in a worried tone, nodding to Irie. "Can he keep it up for as long as possible? We do not have replacements, I'm afraid. And in three hours I need to rotate on another shift."

"We will manage. I will manage by myself if need be," Tobirama replies curtly. "Remember, Anija, we only do the bare minimum with him. He must not die. That is all."

Hashirama and Irie nod from their own position. Tobirama activates the seal and they start the grueling task of repairing the damaged tissue while trying to restore the yin and yang balance in the body by opening up channels, nudging the flow of chakra in its coils and feeding their own ki into it.


Pain.

Under his eyelids the Sharingan keeps replaying the moment Tobirama slashed him. He looks down, eyes bleeding, vision splotched with red. Swaying. Checking the Damage. Torn muscles. Hand hurt. Chakra leaking out of him, in coils destroyed beyond repair. His legs buckled.

It was not fair! It was not possible. The sharingan was superior. He was superior. He couldn't have lost. Why had he lost? The sharingan makes him remember everything, all the little accumulation of hurts, of neglect, of strain, and more treacherously, his own assurance that he had won.

It was humiliating. It was unfair. Hashirama was stronger than Madara, if not by much. Why? Why was he also weaker? Who was Hashirama to dare be better than his brother?

It's not all about competition

Izuna scoffs, although his throat feels on fire, like sand baked in a furnace. Air scrapes painfully into his lungs. It hurts to breathe.

He opens his eyes. His vision swims, distorted.

He remembers his brother taking him. Through his pain he sees Madara, he sees his brother's horror, his guilt, his fear. Izuna feels the fury, helplessness and shame again, as if fresh, as well as his determination to help. It was all right, his brother had taken him. He was - his brother was- and-

Red eyes float into the darkness, like blurry lanterns in a foggy moonless night. He falls back into unconsciousness.

He knows he is dying.


Izuna wakes up again. His lungs feel like punctured sails, inflating weakly, unable to carry the wind. He pants, trying to breathe. He's drowning in the air, breathing laboured. A series of coughs racks his frame violently, making him moan in pain.

His whole body is on fire from the jolts. The pain in his chest is excruciating.

Still, he tries to assess the damage. The sharingan flares to life with a vicious stab to his eyes. Eyes watering, feeling as if he had torn all his nerves and vessels along the way, he tries to see.

An oni perches on his left shoulder, claws digging into his muscles. It drives its long serrated knife repeatedly into his shoulder, laughing maniacally. From time to time it stops to dig his clawed fingers into the wounds and rummage inside the mess of muscle, fat and blood, scraping the shoulder bone from within. "Itchy," it giggles.

His belly is eaten by wild dogs, it is beaten by clubs. They gorge on his insides, muzzles red with blood tearing off his guts, eating hungrily.

A Nure-onna wet and cold, slithers up to him, smiling widely then her fangs pierce his heart and sucks all the blood out of him. His vision swims while his heart beats faster and faster, trying to send blood into his body, while the Nure onna feasts, mouth full of blood.

His legs feel like lead but he struggles to get up. He manages to raise a feeble hand. He sees his nails have turned to black. Bile rises up, but his throat closes up.

He is so thirsty. He is so cold. The oni laughs and stabs and stabs while little ubu, their childish faces morphing into those of his brothers', skitter on his chest on their spider legs, burrowing themselves into his lungs.

He passes out while the sharingan keeps replaying the same moments in his head.


He wakes up again, this time the pain dulled to a deep thrum. He feels exhausted, as if his body has started to turn into stone. His body feels calcified to the bed, too weak to get up. An unidentified blob came up to him, cradled his head and tilted it. The rim of a cup presses against his lips. Izuna accepts it. His tongue is cleaved to the roof of his mouth. The water dribbles in, slowly, cool and full of vitality, and finally his throat unsticks and he can swallow.

After five sips he is too tired to continue, and the cup retreats. Izuna opens his mouth to ask about Madara, how his brother is faring, what was happening with the clan, but only a few inarticulate syllables leave his throat.

He passes out.


The next time he wakes, his eyes are covered. He wonders if his brother took his eyes, but as he presses one trembling hand over his eye sockets, he senses they are still there. Relief mixed with worry swirls into his stomach, and a warm hand immediately presses on it soothingly, sending ki to help him calm his emotions.

"Aniki," Izuna murmurs. His left hand goes over the warm hand on his belly, gripping it feebly. He wants to talk with Madara. This is the most important thing. He needs to know, he needs to advise his brother, he needs to be there, to shoulder the responsibility for the clan.

At this, another hand comes to rest on his forehead and tugs the blindfold off.

Izuna blinks and keeps his eyes half lidded, waiting for his eyes to adjust. The room he is in is dark, windowless. He is laying on a thin futon with a wooden makura under his neck for support. He feels bandages wrapped around his torso and belly. Two seals are burning at the sides of his head. He feels their flame, as it feeds his own.

The motionless figure shifts and he sees red eyes. White hair. He tenses and the hand on his abdomen glows as it punches him with ki , overwhelming his coils momentarily, making him black out.


When he wakes up again, Izuna is ready to fight. His vision is blurred by red, but he prepares to cast a genjutsu on Tobirama. The chakra flow is sluggish, like tar instead of a flowing current, and pulling on it makes him feel as if he's disemboweling himself. Sweat lathers his forehead as he reins in the pain.

The seal on his left burns to ash. The right one flickers.

"Turn off the sharingan," Tobirama warns. "Before the other seal goes out. Otherwise," he adds while raising a scalpel to his face, "I'll carve a permanent seal into your eyeballs. I won't have you hurt my medics."

Izuna smirks. "What if I make you gouge your eyes out first?"

Tobirama wordlessly puts the scalpel under his left eye, letting the stinging cold of the blade sink in.

Izuna grits his teeth from pain, from fury, but stops feeding chakra to his eyes and they slowly fade to black. His vision spins, and he crosses his arms over his belly, as if trying to push his insides back in. It feels as if he had been scooped out.

"Where is my brother?" Izuna asks, gasping for air. "Did you—did he—"

"Your brother is hale and well," Tobirama sighs. "And he wanted you to live."

Izuna wants to deny it. His breath quickens, his chest starts hurting. His eyes burn. His brother had abandoned him to the Senju. His brother had let him go his brother had—

"Your brother wanted us to help you stay alive ," Tobirama repeats, red eyes boring into his.

Another person behind his back helps him sit up and Tobirama presents him with a round cup crisscrossed with seals. He has no idea what they mean. His vision is too blurry. It seems full of clear water. "It has a chakra-enhanced mix of fluids, it will help you replenish lost minerals and restore some measure of equilibrium to your system. Drink it."

Izuna drinks. "Saving my life… after taking it?" He rasps. He has to survive. As long as he survives, he can see his brother again, he can convince him, he can—-

Tobirama frowns. "It was the battlefield," he replies. "Not revenge. Unlike you, I can suppress my personal emotion for the sake of peace. I am certain you would not have saved my life had you taken it."

"It was the battlefield," Izuna mocks. "'That's how it works. What now? Keeping me hostage to have my brother at your beck and call? You might as well kill me, he will never accept you."

"You are not the only Uchiha whose life we saved these days." Tobirama rolls his eyes. "Do you think yours is the only thing that matters? Do you think your brother would listen to you preach destruction and revenge on those who saved his brother's life? And the lives of so many others in his clan?" Tobirama barks a short laugh. "You truly are delusional. A side effect of the Sharingan, one might assume. Or of being an Uchiha."

Izuna bristles, but exhaustion stays his hand. The conversation has depleted any energy he had started with. He lays back down, conserving his strength, concentrating on how his lungs expand with every breath, how his heart beats weakly but stably.

"Do not use the sharingan on the medics," Tobirama warns him, red eyes narrowed. "Or I'll seal your eyes myself."

Izuna tries to scoff. A puff of breath escapes his lips.

Tobirama lingers. Despite himself, Izuna falls asleep. The water, he thinks.


The next time he wakes up, it is to a stabbing pain in his chest. It feels as if a kunai were lodged into his heart.

"Blood clot," Tobirama informs him, wrapping seals around his chest. "Drink."

Izuna drinks. He feels Tobirama's hands press on his ribcage, under the sternum. The fingers press down on the right side of his body, under the rib cage, and he hisses, vision dancing with white spots. His liver, spleen and pancreas are all there.

"You are healing well," Tobirama has the audacity to say.


The next time, Izuna wakes up restless. He wants to get up, to train, to use his muscles. His chakra itches to move around, to mold into his core and escape his body in the form of jutsu.

Irie and another older woman watch him disapprovingly. The boy runs away and soon comes back with the damn Senju in tow. Tobirama watches him critically. "Your yin and yang are still unbalanced in your liver. The spleen production of ki isn't quite enough. Your chakra is sluggish, but that's not a priority—the current focus is on restoring the function of your organs. As of now, we are using fuinjutsu to keep your body balanced and functioning, but it will take some time for your body to regain that balance naturally. Do not take off the seals, do not leave this room, do not even try to perform any strenuous activity or chakra use. You'll just set your recovery back, and we'll have to induce a coma to have your body repair itself."

"I can manage by myself," Izuna replies through gritted teeth.

Tobirama throws him a flat look. "No, you cannot."

Hashirama also comes in, smiling at Izuna, and Izuna blinks. The Senju clan head carries a small rectangular object wrapped in furoshiki cloth in his hand.

"Your brother is eager to see you again," he says instead of a greeting. "He sent me something for you."

Izuna takes the small package, and unwraps the dark patterned silk furoshiki. He sees his brother's lacquered bento box, made from red wood. A snowy crane stretches its wings on the side. He takes off the lid and cannot help the smile tugging at his corners.

There are five inarizushi stacked inside, sticky sweet but without the black sesame seeds, just how he likes them. And separated by a long leaf, there is the spicy glazed tazukuri fish.

Izuna grins. Madara still wanted to make him eat sesame seeds one way or another.

A hand plucks the box from his hands and he is slow to react. Tobirama looks in the bento box.

"You cannot eat these now," he says categorically. His red eyes bore into Izuna's insolently, sure of the fact that he would not use the sharingan. For a moment, Izuna is tempted to try it anyways, it would have thrown the Senju off his high horse.

Instead, he merely grits his teeth.

"It would be wasteful to throw them away," Hashirama comments.

"You're not eating them," Izuna snaps to Tobirama, who has taken out a pair of chopsticks and was inspecting one of the baby sardines. Tobirama throws him a wry look.

"Wasn't going to," he shrugs, putting the box down on the table Hashirama was sitting at.

"You don't eat them either, Anija," he snaps, slapping Hashirama's hopeful hands away. "They could be poisoned."

"They were for me," Izuna says, outraged. He immediately doubles over coughing, as pain flares in his abdomen.

Hashirama's shoulders slump in defeat.

"You can eat them," Izuna says viciously after the pain subsides to easy to ignore levels. "You seem hungry."

Hashirama perks up and swipes the box from Tobirama's hands. Izuna hides a grin.

"Anija!" Tobirama thunders.

Hashirama smiles brightly. "Lower your voice, you have a patient, Tobirama." He holds his hand for the chopsticks. "Now…"

Tobirama looks ready to stab them into his hand.

"No," he snaps.

"Tobirama," Hashirama says categorically, "I'm not throwing away food."

Seeing the banter between the brothers opens a black hole into Izuna's mind. He starts to wish Hashirama would choke and drop dead.

As if reading his thoughts. Tobirama turns to him. "In two days, you will start your recovery exercises, and if you comply , you will be well enough in a week to meet your brother."

"Trying to bribe me like you would a child," Izuna comments derisively.

Tobirama slams his hands on the table. "Anija, stop stuffing your mouth! It is surely not that good!" He exclaims exasperated.

Hashirama just smiles mysteriously.

"Of course it is that good," Izuna snaps. "My brother made it."

"Your brother is an idiot for sending you food you cannot eat and riling you up," Tobirama thunders in his direction. "Get well soon and then get out!" He shouts and left. He stops at the door. "I have a meeting with the allied clans' delegates," he informs his brother grudgingly. Hashirama waves at him as he continues eating.

A young medic comes in with a tray with a bowl of thin rice porridge and herbs, and sets it down next to him.

"You can sit at the table," Hashirama offers.

Izuna calculates the distance. Five steps away but it might as well be in the next country. He shakes his head and concentrates on the difficult task of taking the spoon, dipping it in porridge and getting it to his mouth without spilling anything.

After five spoons, his hands are shaking too hard so he lets the spoon clatter back on the tray with a frustrated sigh.

"Need any help?" Hashirama asks hopefully.

Izuna scowls. "I am fine by myself."

Hashirama nods. "If you eat it all, I'll smuggle you out in the Maple Garden afterwards," he says.

"Are you bribing me?" Izuna asks incredulously.

"Don't you want to get out of this room?" Hashirama asks him back.

"Your brother told me to stay in this room," Izuna reminds him tartly.

Hashirama grins. "Ah, but you would be with me. You'll be fine." He looks at the bowl, then back at Izuna, expectantly.

Izuna sighs, then steels himself while reaching for the spoon again. He is hungry anyway. He ignores Hashirama's sunny smile.

A long time later, his spoon clatters into the now empty bowl. Izuna closes his eyes briefly. He had done it. He felt Hashirama come sit next to him.

"Congratulations, you ate everything," he says approvingly.

"I am not a small child," Izuna reiterates and tenses when he feels two strong arms encircling his body and lifting him up. "What are you doing?" He grits out.

"Taking you out," Hashirama says cheerily.

"ANIJA!" Tobirama shouts from the door and Hashirama almost drops him, while giving a very undignified yelp. "Put him down!"

"But I promised to take him out if he ate everything," Hashirama hedges. "I'll be with him at all times. He will be fine."

Tobirama frowns in the doorway, face dark, eyes narrowed. His lips are trembling, no doubt from the sheer effort of keeping his words in. Finally, after some wordless communication with his brother, he moves from the doorway, glowering. Izuna quite enjoys it.

"Be back in less than an hour," Tobirama snaps at them.

Hashirama hums in agreement and steps out. The dawn has started to colour the sky in pink and pale blue. The trip to the garden is quick. Izuna takes deep breaths, enjoying the breeze playing on his face, into his hair. He almost falls asleep, imagining he feels his brother's steady presence at his side when Hashirama gently puts him down on a zabuton.

"I brought him," he says gravely, as a pair of familiar arms engulf him in a warm embrace. Izuna's eyes fly open to see Madara's face above him, happier than he had seen him in a long time.

He returns the embrace fiercely, although his grasp is weak. It does not matter. His brother is here. This is what matters.


Notes:Fun fact: Izuna's delirious folk tale monsters torture show symptoms of the wounding of his organs and some of the complications:

Chest pain, shortness of breath, cough, bluish nails and lips (acute respiratory distress syndrome, complication) the Ubu children (spider body, baby face) burrowing into his chest.

The oni attacking his shoulder is pain radiating from the pancreas wound

The nure onna (vampiric monster), shows the blood loss

The dogs eating his intestines is the pain of having his liver, spleen and pancreas etc cut.

Hypothermia, chills is another symptom of blood loss

Inarizushi are usually made with black sesame. Izuna hates it, so Madara made him some without it. At the same time, he gave Izuna something he likes, spice baby sardines, that are colloquially called gomame- sesame eyes, because they are similar. And since the eyes are black, it references black sesame.