Tobirama has never wanted to be feared, but some part of him is pleased by it, now. Three men kneel in the dirt before him, many more have gathered to watch. He has no taste for spectacle, but this must be seen.
"You know why you're here." There's no uncertainty, no question offered. The man directly in front of him trembles so bad he can hardly keep himself upright. The one to his left seethes. On his right is a man Tobirama is more familiar with than the other two. They've run missions together. He's put his trust in him. "Have you anything to say for yourselves?" Two of them keep their heads down, the weakest of them looks between the others and then up to Tobirama with fear in his eyes.
"Our words were not seriously spoken." His voice shakes and the seething man clenches his fists at his sides as the other speaks. "How could we have known—" He is cut short by the man next to him.
"She is an Uchiha," the words are spat at his feet, full of disgust, "are we meant to pretend—"
"You are meant to understand," Tobirama's words are a caution as much as a reprimand. In his brother's name, he will show mercy, but every word they speak runs the risk of making it more difficult to do so, "that the Uchiha you speak of is my wife, and she will have your respect, at whatever cost you choose."
"Who have you become?" The question comes from the only man who has not yet spoken, the one he knows. When Tobirama looks at him, he sees not disgust, but desperation. "You used to be a man worthy of our respect. Now, you're just the lapdog of an Uchiha bitch you once knew enough to loathe. Perhaps their madness is catching."
It has rarely been such a challenge to keep his temper. Each word spoken diminishes his own regret at what must be done. Tobirama looks at the gathered crowd. He does not raise his voice, confident the gravity of his words will carry far enough.
"Understand that the Uchiha are no longer our enemies. If you make yourself theirs, in turn, you make yourself a traitor. An enemy not to one clan, but two, and every other within the village." He looks back at the men in front of him. "Have you any last words?"
Terror turns the face of the cowardly man white.
"Please, you said you would not—"
"I will not."
"What do you—" Once again, he is cut off, this time by the man bold enough to profane his wife's name in his presence.
"I stand by my words." They are calmly spoken, though carried by an unsubtle current of resentment.
"I would sooner die," is the answer of the last man.
"They do not speak for me," begs the man cut short. The one to his left turns to him and spits.
"Coward."
"If this is how you all wish to have your voices remembered," Tobirama has no further patience for this, "so be it."
•
Izuna's heart catches when her husband returns. He carries with him three still-bleeding tongues which he puns to the table between them using the blade that presumably cut them out. She is not only satisfied, she is thrilled. The sensation rising sharp behind her ribs and down her spine as their eyes meet. It's never been easier to want him.
Hashirama is horrified.
"Tobirama, what have you done?" He stands and grabs his brother's arm, forces him to pull his eyes from her and face him, it's the most outright display of anger he's ever shown outside of a fight. "Brother, tell me—"
"I took the hands of the unrepentant, also, and left them to be seen by the village. The one who begged mercy received it." Wise, she thinks, to balance clemency with ruthlessness so well. She has rarely admired her husband more. In truth, she would still have liked to see them lose their lives, but this is a fine alternative.
"You call this mercy?" Hashirama gestures furiously at the severed flesh going grey against the wood. Beside her, Madara begins to laugh.
"What would you have done, Hashirama?" Her husband reasons. "I did not move against you, I did not take their lives and showed mercy where I could, they proved themselves to be as serious in their sentiments as we feared. The consequences had to be equally so."
The next hour does not pass easily.
The brothers spend much of it on the question of whether or not Tobirama's authority should come with enough independence that he can strip his men of their ability to serve their life's purpose. While each pleads their case to the other, Madara turns to her and speaks low.
"Are you pleased with this much?"
"I am." It's no lie, there are no caveats to her agreement. "Are you?" Madara's grin is answer enough.
"I wouldn't have believed he had it in him." In truth, nor did she. Rarely has she found such pleasure in being proven wrong. "Perhaps you will not be such a terrible match, in the end."
"Perhaps not."
•
Hashirama is furious with him, perhaps more than he has ever been, and he would be a fool not to see why, but he does not regret what he's done. He trusts his brother's judgement but knows his heart has always been soft. Tobirama has done what he knows is best for his brother, his wife and both of their clans.
Madara, for once, argues his case, and it's surreal in a way he cannot quite bring himself to appreciate in full. Even as Madara speaks in his favour, he can sense the same discomfort behind his words.
Izuna, though, is pleased.
It was her suggestion that the price his men have paid become the standard for similar offences, against any clan. Madara backed her, and from there, their argument had become Hashirama and Madara's. In truth, it seems Madara has already won. Tobirama has set precedent, it would look weak if they pulled back now. Give the impression they're divided.
Izuna must think the same, because she stands and touches his shoulder when she passes. Tension weaves itself through him as he stands to follow.
"Where are you going?" Hashirama still sounds irate, but not so much as before. Izuna answers for them both.
"It seems as though we're not needed here any longer, am I wrong?"
"I would like to speak to my brother again."
"We'll wait just outside," she offers. Tobirama silently urges his brother to acquiesce. He looks between them and gives in.
"I'll find you both when we're done, here."
Even once they stand in the open air, he feels suffocated by the way his heart swells and quickens when she's near. She pushes him back against the support beam, hands over his chest, and steps in close enough to be indecent, public as this is.
"I did not expect you'd go so far." Want plays across her face more open than he's ever seen it and when he brings an arm around her waist to press her tighter against him, she leans easily with the touch. It feels natural, then, to hold her as he's wanted to for months, draw his free hand up along her back to cup the side of her neck and run his thumb along the sharp cut of her jaw.
A part of him hates that he is finally allowed this and the moment might be witnessed, shared by anyone outside the two of them. An equal, if not greater part, yearns for everyone to see. How well could vicious rumours hold up in the face of her open embrace of him?
"I only tried to find the closest they had to offer to what they wished to take."
"Would not their hands have been enough?" Tobirama has never liked to be teased, especially by her, but in this moment, he doubts his ability to be upset with anything she could say.
One of her hands has crept up to toy with his hair and the sensation tempts a sharper one. If it were anyone else who asked, he would tell them their tongues were taken so they might not spread another word of hate, and he would not be lying. For her, though, he offers another reason, equally true, if not more so.
"After the way they spoke of you, they do not deserve the opportunity to ever do so again." Her hand tightens in his hair as she digs bruises into his chest, leans heavier against him.
"I would have liked to have seen." Desire weighs her voice down heavy enough to be felt behind his own ribs and in the pull of his groin.
"Izuna—" Something between them gives way and heat flares at the base of his throat a beat before they finally reach each other. The first shared breath, the first tease of her tongue has him feeling as though he might be suffocated by his own want. To be allowed this intimacy at last, Izuna's lips light up every nerve spread across his own and the feeling that's swollen at his collar burns under his skin, impossible to name.
It feels as though the devotion that's sprung between them has manifested with enough solidity to reach into his chest and pull him in until they are one. To do anything but return to each other would be impossible.
As he leans forward into her, Izuna matches his own desire, pulling him closer until there's no room for air between them, heat unbearable as she grips his hair and digs her nails into his neck with enough strength she may well have drawn blood. He presses bruises into her waist and ruins her hair revelling in the taste of her and keeping her near, though still never near enough.
Her tongue slips along the wet seam of his lip and a shiver runs down his spine. Tobirama thinks he may well drown in the current between them. It should, perhaps, make him feel out of control. Instead, he finds the opposite is true.
He is aware of every point of contact between them, every brush of her skin—so pleasing it's near painful against his own, every sweep of tongue, every breath they share. And still, it's all nothing to the way she tastes, the strength with which she keeps him near, wants him.
She has heightened his focus and it is entirely fixated on her and the vibration between them, felt keenly behind the ribs and sprawling out across his skin.
•
Izuna feels dizziness only a fever can bring. It's the fire Tobirama has built under her skin with every touch and tease that fuels the sensation. She wants to let herself fall to it entirely. Allow the burn to consume her and give herself to the love she's approached with such caution, until now.
One thing, one thought, one secret impedes her desire, forces her to push forward, take more, give more, until she's able to push it to the edge of her mind.
She steps, turns, pulls Tobirama with her until his weight holds her to the support beam at her back. "Please," she breathes. It would be impossible not to hear the beg, the urgency of her own voice, but it doesn't carry the bitter taste she'd feared it might and that makes it easier to continue, bringing a thigh to his hip as he groans. "Please, Tobirama. I cannot wait."
"We could be seen." Even as he says it, his hands find her hips so she might bring her legs around him and be lifted against him. She feels him hard against her, rolls down and finds his hips rise to meet her own.
"Let them see," she speaks the words into the soft skin of his neck before pulling back, nipping at his jaw, his lip, to look at him as she continues. "Let everyone witness you between the legs of your Uchiha wife for whom you'd maim your own men. Let them see as you take what no one else may touch."
As she says it, the idea excites her more than she expects. To have anyone who might pass by see him stripped of his control, his reservations, more so than even in battle, all because of her is far from an unappealing thought. If today has not already proven to the village how thoroughly he has become hers, this would surely be enough.
"Izuna." Her name is hoarse, dragged out of him with a force that lands heavy between her hips. "If they speak of you—"
"Let them run themselves ragged with the gossip of how you defile me so lovingly. Why should I care?" It feels impossible to keep her breath as she tightens her hands over his shoulders, in his hair. The need to consume and be consumed in turn maddens her.
"I only worry I would be unable to keep my head if they did." His words only make the pull between her hips that much stronger.
"Why should you?" She kisses him again, savours the soft heat of his tongue over her own and finds herself overwhelmed by the weight of adoration in her chest before pulling back to look him in the eyes again. She will remember how he looks forever, he doesn't flinch. "Allow me to watch next time you cut someone's tongue from their throat and I'll let you have me there, in front of everyone who's gathered to watch."
Tobirama pants, groans low as he drops to mouth at her neck and she meets the pressure of his hips with her own. He is not gentle with her, bruises blooming wherever he puts his hands on her, and she's glad for it as pleasure settles heavy at the base of her spine and drives her to move against him, forever seeking more.
"Do not speak of such things."
•
Tobirama has never taken pleasure in the thought of behaving in such an undignified way, never-mind so publicly, but—the want to have everyone see, to have them know she welcomes him, wants him openly and willingly, is enough to have him forget himself.
He is near ready to take her there, only metres from the room where their brothers still argue, in plain view of anyone who might pass by, when he feels Hashirama's chakra flare. A courtesy and a warning both. It leaves just enough time for Izuna's feet to find the ground while they regain some of their breath before the door slides open.
"And here I thought you might be reflecting on the situation." Even though he is still displeased, Hashirama cannot keep the tease from his voice. The anger has gone, it seems.
•
Madara joins her outside once her husband has followed Hashirama back in. Together, they sit on the wooden steps, allowing the soft evening breeze to blow past them. He turns to look over her flushed cheeks and wrinkled clothes.
"Have you no shame?" The revulsion is evident in his voice and from anyone else, it might be insulting. From him, it only amuses her.
"None at all."
"Awful."
A/N: Shorter chapter tonight because my eyes are still a mess and writing with any longevity is A Struggle™, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer 💫
ALSO, I'm used to AO3 where you can reply to comments IN the comments, so I never quite know whether it would be weird to reply to these ones via DM? But? I have gotten a couple of very lovely, incredibly kind and sweet comments on this fic and I just wanted to tell those that left them that it really does make my day to see people appreciating this story so much. It was a complete impulse and I'm really pleased with how it's turned out. I'm not bothered it's not incredibly popular, tbh, but it makes me happy to see that a few of you are into it 💜