"Where is Madara?" Hashirama sits by the wide-open doors overlooking the forest's edge, smiling amiably.
"I thought it might be best to meet without either of our brothers present so we can speak openly." His demeanour is pleasant enough she doesn't feel worried by his words, though she'd looked forward to seeing her brother.
"How ominous," she teases, sliding the door shut behind her.
"No, no. Nothing to worry about, I swear." Hashirama waves his hands as if to clear the air of any troubles and gestures across from him for her to sit. "I only thought that as what I have to say—offer, really—concerns you, it might be best to allow you some time to think about it without your brother trying to accept on your behalf, as I think he'll be quite pleased when he hears."
"I'll admit you've made me curious, will I also be pleased to hear your offer?"
"I hope so." He looks as though he truly does. "Madara approached me with the idea of making use of your time spent with the Uchiha." As she'd expected. "Am I right in thinking he doesn't know the full reason behind your visits?"
"You are."
"I had a feeling, and it seems safe to assume you haven't told him the rest, seeing as how the village still stands. Do you intend to?" She cannot blame him for asking, though she suspects he already knows her answer.
"No, I'd have done it by now. As for Tobirama—I know you wish it were different between he and I—"
"Speak openly, please."
"I don't trust him, but I don't expect him to give me reason enough to go to such extremes. I understand what it would do if I did and I have no desire to save myself at the expense of so many others. It wouldn't do any good."
"Has he been treating you well?" The sincerity in his voice is a little nauseating and she is, quite resentfully, beginning to understand how her brother held to such foolish dreams for so many years when he had Hashirama there to speak to them. "I love my brother, but oftentimes he fails to realize that what he thinks is best doesn't always hold true for those around him."
Izuna allows herself a heavy breath. There's no use lying, but she has no illusions about any good the truth would do. At this point, she's not even sure what she would say if she were to tell it.
"We've reached a clearer point of understanding."
"That is not quite what I asked." Hashirama's voice takes on a hopeful lilt when he continues. "I've noticed you've started sparring together, do you enjoy each other's company, at least?" She can't help but laugh. She feels no malice towards the question, but disbelief stunts her manners.
"You and Madara are too alike. Do you expect miracles, Hashirama? It's only been a fortnight."
"I admit, it may have been a little optimistic of me." The painful sincerity returns to his expression and she does her best not to give her discomfort too much leeway. Madara, too, has always been sincere in his emotions, but she's used to the feeling of his, all sharp edges and blunt force. Hashirama's are different, softer, they warm without burning and she can't quite seem to get used to it.
"Mito talks about your training in fūinjutsu, I hope she's helped you to feel safer here, at the very least?" Guilt strikes at her core. Mito's teachings have allowed her the only feeling of safety she's found since coming to the Senju, it feels important that she know the value that holds for Izuna.
"She's helped more than I can say. I'm not sure what I'd do if she weren't here."
"I'm familiar with the feeling, and pleased to hear it." His smile softens in the way it only seems to do for Mito and Madara. She assumes it must do the same for Tobirama, but they're so rarely discussing him in a way that would make anyone smile, she's not seen it yet. "I know I cannot make your marriage a happy one, but I truly hope you won't remain miserable here, Izuna."
"I've never had any desire to find my purpose in marriage. Ours is—not ideal, but it hasn't ruined my life." Eventually, she believes the words she says might even feel true. The first have always been, but the last have proven more difficult to make real.
"A thought that lends itself quite well to the reason I've asked you here." Excitement colours his voice and she feels the shift in the way he speaks to her. More as a clan leader than a brother. "I've come up with a position I think would suit you well and serve the village's needs, with the added benefit of giving you some tie to the Senju independent of my brother or any children. No need to decide today, but I hope you'll consider it."
The thought of more ties to the Senju isn't an appealing one, but it could hardly make her situation any worse, and she has no desire to remain under Tobirama's thumb as a wife and nothing more.
"Go on."
"Now that the village is establishing itself, there are politics to consider. Madara and I are likely to spend much time away. Even when we're here, there just isn't time enough to handle everything ourselves. Tobirama often acts in my stead, I'm confident in his leadership. He's smart and he keeps his head—most of the time—but I cannot trust him as well as I'd like to approach without bias or give lenience where it's needed."
"Not his strongest suits."
"No, and so I hoped you might act as an intermediary."
"You want to solve the problem of a difficult marriage by having us spend more time together and giving us more than we already have to fight about?" She's tempted to laugh again, only sheer incredulity stops her. Madara always insists Hashirama's optimism borders on insanity. It seems he may be correct.
"You make the same face as Madara does when he thinks I've said something mad. It's as if you've tasted something sour." His expression is alarmingly fond.
"I can't imagine why you're so familiar with the look."
"Just hear me out. You're the closest we have to a neutral party that also understands the full weight of what both clans have been through—"
"I appreciate the credit you give me, but if you think I'm neutral—"
"No, of course, but you have a place in both our clans, now, and it would be foolish not to make use of that. You've also shown that you won't put yourself before the wellbeing of the village, even if you might suffer for it." His expression falls into something sombre and when he speaks, the gravity of his tone has changed.
"I haven't forgotten, Izuna. Even in a miserable situation, one in which I would not have thought less of you for acting selfishly, you thought of what was at stake outside of yourself, for a village you did not even want, no less. That shows what you're made of as much as any time we've fought, and it's too valuable to waste. The village needs people who will put it first."
It's far more than she'd realized he'd read into her actions. Certainly more favourable than she'd expected.
"I appreciate that, truly. And you've certainly sold me on my own good graces," he has the good humour to smile at her effort to alleviate some of the heaviness that's settled between them, "but even so, Tobirama is my husband. Could he not overrule anything I say on the virtue of that alone?"
"Not in this. Your position would be your own, one in which you're beholden to the village, not your husband. I fear I might have misled you into thinking you would defer to him when that's not the case at all. Often, you'll work as much with Madara and I as you will Tobirama, and when we are both gone he'll be expected to consider your council on matters of village politics."
"He'll hate that," the thought pleases her enormously.
"Most likely," Hashirama agrees, amused.
"I won't deny the appeal in that," she allows, "though, it sounds as if you're saying that while I don't have to do as he says blindly, we'll be expected to find a way to agree on most things?" He winces at her skeptical tone.
"In essence, yes."
"And it sounded so good until now." Urgency takes over his face and she waves away the desire she can see to explain all the ways in which he believes the idea to be less disastrous than it is. "I'm only kidding, Hashirama. I can't imagine that will be easy, but I'm interested. What else would I have to do?"
"Well, more than anything, I'd actually like for you to mediate the relationships between our two clans and the rest of the village, ensure we're not showing ourselves favour out of habit. Even if we bury old animosity, it does no good if we create more elsewhere through inequity."
It's a reasonable idea, one she can believe, but she has no desire to be given power in exchange for absolution.
"May I ask, how much of this is because you believe I'm suited to the position, and how much is to alleviate the guilt you feel for what happened?"
"I promise you, Izuna, that isn't what this is. While I admit I'm not at all proud of hiding my brother's actions, I would do so again for the safety of the village, as I'm sure you know." It feels like the most honest thing he's ever said to her. "If I only wanted to offer you something to do or find some excuse for you to take time away, there are a million different ways to do so with all that needs to be done. This offer is being made to you because there's no one else I would rather take the position."
"You're sure? There are others with more diplomatic temperaments."
"None I would trust as strongly to prioritize the wellbeing of the village. Besides, your father must've raised you and your brothers to be savvy leaders in your clan in all respects. I'm sure you're not without any know-how."
"Has anyone ever told you you're quite persuasive when you want to be?"
"Your brother, on occasion. He's usually more annoyed by it than you are, though."
"I bet he is."
"Besides," he grins, "it's easier when there's such a persuasive case to be made. You must see what I'm saying." Few, she thinks, can be quite so charming while pushing their luck. Perhaps the madness is real, flits through her mind. To find any Senju charming is a sign of nothing good.
"I do. Though, it also sounds like a good way to make a lot of people angry, to me."
"Perhaps, but you'll anger them all equally, in theory, which seems an improvement under the right light, does it not? Please, just take a few days to consider—"
"No need, I accept."
"Are you sure? You seemed hesitant, and it's no small amount of work—"
"It doesn't matter. I've sat and sulked long enough, it feels like a worthwhile challenge."
"I'm so pleased to hear it. In that case, I'm sure your brother will be delighted to agree to the idea." And yours will not. The thought that follows her the rest of the day.
•
"Have you truly thought this through, Hashirama?" Tobirama knows that his brother is kindhearted, knows that he himself has been unfair to Izuna, but neither is reason enough to be naive.
"What worries you about it?" Hashirama has the nerve to sound amused as they walk shoulder to shoulder through the village, surveying the progress made.
"I understand why you work with Madara, you shared a dream, however imprudent—"
"Tobirama—"
"And his cooperation and leadership are what you feel is needed if you hope to achieve real peace, but the Uchiha—regardless of intention, they cannot even trust themselves. To have both Madara and Izuna in positions of influence seems shortsighted." At that, Hashirama lowers his voice and Tobirama understands the subtle reproach. He's not meant to speak like this where people might hear, now they are allies.
"Even now, you truly believe that?" He hates the tone in his brother's voice, but not as much as his continued refusal to see the truth about the instability of the Uchiha.
"Yes. She might be of sound mind now, but it's inevitable—"
"Even if that were true, whose love is it you think will drive her mad? As long as peace holds, Madara is as safe as any of us." And you truly think it will hold? He doesn't dare ask as much out loud, it wouldn't do any good, he knows.
"Even so, would you really have me waste my time arguing with Izuna over how the village is run? When there is so much else to be done?"
"You two will argue no matter what I have you do, at least now there might be some purpose to it." Tobirama rarely loses his patience with his brother, but the thought alone of how difficult she'll make his life if they're left to run the village together for any length of time—
"This isn't wise, Hashirama. I cannot think rationally when she opposes me, the way she picks at every detail, she makes me—" He's become too loud again, but they've come far enough off the main road he doesn't care to check himself. Hashirama pulls him to a stop so they can face each other.
"When has anyone truly made you act against your will? Your choices are your own. If you really struggle so much to think because of something as simple as her presence—"
"Of course, I can still think—"
"Then do so, now. Who else has a stronger tie to both clans? If not the Uchiha, who else knows the toll the war has taken as well as us?" Admonishment underlies his pleading tone and even as a grown man, Tobirama waits for the day he might outgrow the guilt it forces on him. "She put the village before her own safety when she had no reason to, do you really fail to see the significance of that?
"It's hardly commendable of a woman to submit herself on her wedding night." And she could not do even that much. The thought is uncharitable and his words aren't much better. Hashirama's face falls and he knows he's pushed too far, but can't find it in himself to be sorry. He's accepted that in all likelihood he'll one day have a madwoman for a wife, but it's not tolerable to have one with so much influence over the development of the village.
"To allow me the opportunity to hide your actions before rumours could be spread, to stay for the sake of peace she didn't desire any more than you did when she knows she has a brother who would keep her from ever being brutalized at the hands of her own husband again is no small mercy, Tobirama."
"You talk as if I would have subjected her to a lifetime of—"
"She didn't know you would not! Think, not only of what you know your reasons to be but of how they must look to her. I've asked this of you from the beginning, to consider why she says and does what she chooses to, have I not?"
"You have."
"And you—you have gotten better, brother, please do not think I don't give you credit for the effort I see, but you must try harder." It is, as it always is, much worse when Hashirama's voice softens and he's forced to hear the sadness there knowing he's been the cause of it. "I have no wish to see you miserable, but regardless of how any of us might feel about the situation, the village comes first. Izuna has proven she'll act with its best interest in mind, and that is what I value most of all, right now."
It's difficult to argue his point when they both know any further will just pull them into the same cycle of disagreements they've already been through a thousand times.
"All that aside, this was mostly a courtesy," he follows, wincing, and Tobirama knows the most infuriating part is yet to come, "I haven't yet told Madara, but Izuna has already agreed to the position and I doubt her brother would have reason to protest it."
"You asked her before even speaking to me?"
"The position was hers to consider."
"Izuna is my wife—"
"And you both belong to my clan. I was perfectly within my rights as both clan leader and Hokage, Tobirama." His words are carried by all the scolding of both a leader and an older brother, Tobirama is tired of speaking. "I know you do not like this, and I'm sorry for that, but we all have to bear some discomfort to keep the peace. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't believe it would be the best thing for the village, you know me well enough to know that's true, even if you do not agree."
Tobirama cannot argue that, and it appears as though he would not have much choice, even if he could.
He wants to be angry with her because he hates to be angry with his brother, but in truth, he knows she's done nothing to warrant it. The idea hadn't been her own, and while he doesn't believe it to be a good one, he can admit there's some sense to it.
Their spars have become a regular feature of most days, the only way they've found to pass an hour in each other's company comfortably.
Tobirama is not in the habit of lying to himself, but he finds it difficult to admit the larger reason they've become so frequent. The reason he willingly carves times out of impossibly full days to meet with her.
It's exhilarating.
After years spent clashing in fights where the focus was on life and death, it's another thing entirely to be allowed to explore and observe each other's skills. Tobirama is confident in his abilities and he knows it's not arrogance to be so. The pride he takes in his skill in combat is the most he allows himself and without a fight to keep him sharp he's grown restless.
Izuna pushes him. Most of his sparring partners are people he's known since childhood. They know each other well, and there's value in that, but when they push each other it's rarely in new directions. With Izuna, it feels as though they've only just scratched the surface of each other's abilities. Each match he learns something new, not only about her skill set, but his own. Something she pushes him to.
He wonders what she's gleaned of his own abilities and as much as the thought of any Uchiha gaining greater insight into his tactics should—does, if he thinks about it too closely—make him uncomfortable, he cannot seem to help himself from hoping she finds it as invigorating as he does.
Of course, the reason that makes it most difficult to admit his own enjoyment only comes after they've finished their matches.
"I thought you'd be angry."
It's the only time she seems to speak openly with him, without any anger to carry her words.
"I don't agree with the idea, but it's not without its merits." Izuna laughs, unkind but without bitterness.
"How generous of you."
"You expected worse."
"True." The lightness in her voice—this is the only time he hears it, and he has to right himself whenever he thinks to chase it once they've left the field.
When he takes her now, it's exactly as she'd requested and she seems—not happy, but more relaxed for it. He doesn't touch her any more than he must, doesn't expose her, doesn't linger—though the last is difficult. It doesn't satisfy in the way it did and he reminds himself several times over that satisfaction is not the goal between them. He can admit, now, that he wants for it to be. Being denied the possibility has made it impossible to ignore.
If he allows his eyes to grow heavy, let his vision go soft, it makes it easy for the mind to wander. Before him appear visions of what he might see if she were to let him turn her on her back, what he might feel if she were to pull him in close, how she might sound if she were to tell him what she likes.
The thought is torturous, and he fights to keep his mind alert, eyes sharp and focused on anything but the woman beneath him. It hardly works, and try as he might it's the imagined sound of her voice that brings him over the edge every time. When he pulls away from her, he can never avoid the feeling she's relieved to have it over with, and he finds himself struck by the horrible urge to apologize.
He never does, it would be too strange, but the impulse rests in his chest all night.
A/N: I was talking to a friend about this story and she told me I wrote Tobirama as 'an incel who fucks' 😭 truth hurts.