peripheries
the early years
"Oh, that Madara!" Hashirama groused and kicked a stone into the river. "Next time we meet I'll bash his ugly face in for sure!"
Markedly unimpressed, Kawarama watched on as he cursed some more, tossed some pebbles into the water for good measure. Then he turned to Tobirama.
"I wonder if he truly believes he's fooling anyone," he said and rolled his eyes. "I may only be seven, but even I don't believe him."
He thought for a moment.
"I always thought I wanted to be like Hashirama when I grew up. But he's an idiot."
"Hey!" Hashirama yelled up from the banks. "I heard that!"
"Who do you want to be?" Kawarama asked Tobirama, tugged at his sleeve when there was no answer.
With an annoyed frown, Tobirama swatted his brother's hand away.
"…I want to be like father," he said slowly at length.
"Why?"
"If ever there were a threat to these lands, he wouldn't hesitate to take it out. He looks after his family."
Kawarama tilted his head, looked at him quizzically.
"Even though so many of us are gone?"
Tobirama huffed, lowered the whetstone and tested the edge of his kunai with one thumb.
"He wants what's best for the clan. With him, we are safe."
Still not sharp enough.
"If you keep that up there won't be any blade left for you to sharpen," Hashirama, who was now done with his little play, remarked as he stalked across the stony bank. "I'll have to get you a new one for your birthday. It's only a week away."
Flopping down next to Tobirama, he poked at the kunai.
"Who are you trying to kill with this? I wouldn't want to be in their shoes."
"Who says it isn't for you?" Tobirama shot back, tossed the weapon up into the air and caught it easily between two fingers. "To cut that ridiculous hair of yours."
"Now listen here you little –"
A sudden flare of foreign chakra had Tobirama jump to his feet and hurl himself across the river like a pebble fired from a sling. All to soon, his brothers' surprised yells faded as he hurtled through the forest, honing in on the signature.
The intruder was moving east, and fast. Not as fast as him.
He tailed them for a while, then moved up to flank them. Up this close, he could clearly identify them as a woman.
It took her a moment to notice his presence but when she did, she slowed down gradually, her dead sprint morphing into languorous leaps that carried her from one branch to the next in a smooth rhythm which he matched easily.
They appraised each other as they sailed through the trees. Eventually, the determined set of her jaw melted into something softer, and she slowed to a halt. Tobirama followed, tensed when she brought up her hands into a familiar sign, gripped his kunai tighter in one fist.
"Kai," the woman whispered, and shook her head when nothing happened. She dropped down to the ground easily and leaned back against a tree, arms wrapped around her middle.
After a long moment of consideration, Tobirama followed.
Again, they eyed each other up and down. Beneath the wariness, the woman looked as puzzled as he felt. Her hair, pink of all colours, was plastered to her forehead with sweat, and stood out sharply against her black utilitarian clothing.
For a long time, neither of them said anything. Tobirama could feel Hashirama and Kawarama drawing closer in the far distance, and decided to solve this woman's puzzle before either of them arrived.
"How did you get here? You showed up out of nowhere."
The woman blinked, cast her gaze about. She was still on guard.
"I don't know," she answered, words controlled and careful. Rubbing her chin, her gaze turned inward. "Things have been confusing for a while now."
"Confusing how?" he demanded, and at his sharp tone something like annoyance flickered through her eyes and drove back the indecisiveness.
"I don't think," she quipped, straightened to her full height, tossed her head wilfully, "that I ought to tell you."
He bristled at how she looked down her nose at him, one eyebrow arched and hip cocked.
"At least tell me who you are running from," he pressed through clenched teeth. "You've breached our lands, and you're clearly trying to get away from someone. Who is following you?" He narrowed his eyes. "Did you cross one of the other clans?"
She hummed at that, seemed to mull over his words. Tobirama clenched his fists.
"Tell me," he grit out. "If there is an imminent threat, I need to know. Because from what I can tell, it's just you at the moment."
"Just me?" she echoed, surprise clear on her face.
After a moment during which her brows scrunched in concentration, she let out a slow breath.
"You're right. There's no-one there."
The fact that she didn't pick up on Hashirama and Itama closing in, even though they were still some distance away, told him she was not a sensor. Not over long distances, at least.
"So why are you running?" he repeated, careful to let none of his hostility bleed through.
She lifted a hand, pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Wouldn't you like to know," she muttered darkly, and something clicked.
"Ah," Tobirama triumphed, and only just barely managed to not point an accusing finger. "You don't know yourself."
The woman shot him an unimpressed glare.
"Kids these days," she growled.
Again, that wilful toss of her head. She looked around as if trying to orientate herself, then scowled and picked a seemingly random direction. He drew breath to order her to stop, because he wouldn't let her leave until he got all his answers, but then she glanced back over her shoulder and squinted at him.
"Say… Have we – met?" she asked slowly, looked him up and down.
Tobirama hesitated, gripped his kunai tighter.
"I – no. I don't think so."
They eyed each other for a moment. Suddenly, the woman flinched and looked up, and all the colour drained from her face. Tobirama supposed that his brothers must have gotten close enough for her to pick up on their signature. Before he could say anything, she threw herself around and took off, much in the manner of a scared rabbit. He glanced back to where he felt Hashirama approaching, then moved to follow her.
Only to freeze, eyes wide in disbelief.
She'd disappeared.
He couldn't see her, couldn't sense her, even the faint trail of her scent just stopped after a few steps.
She was just – gone.
"Tobirama!" His brothers yelled when he met them halfway. "What happened?"
"Nothing," he shrugged, ignored their puzzled glances and cries of protest, threw one last glance at the area where the woman had vanished. "Just trying to get away from your nagging. See if you can keep up."
And he broke into a sprint, shaking his head when his brothers took off after him with exclamations of dismay. They were so easy to mislead.
When he reached the compound, his father was at the northern gate, talking to one of the guards. As soon as his eyes fell on Tobirama, he dismissed the man with a curt nod and turned to face his son.
"Where are your brothers?" he asked without preamble.
Tobirama shrugged.
"Trying to catch up."
Butsuma's face darkened.
"From now on, I don't want either of you going out alone. Wait for your brothers and then come to the assembly hall. There has been a development."
And with those cryptic words, he left, vanished into the maze of little houses and patios. Tobirama glanced at the guard manning the gate, but Ko only shook his head.
"I don't know anymore than you," he said. "I was merely instructed that half of the guards are to be pulled from duty."
Tobirama frowned. Before he could ask anything else, Kawarama came shooting down the road, followed closely by Hashirama. They screeched to a halt in front of the gate and Tobirama caught Kawarama up easily when he launched himself into his arms with a cry.
"Good grief," Hashirama groaned, doubled over and hands on his knees. "The brat is getting fast."
"Father wants to speak to us," Tobirama explained. "We're to meet with him back at the main house."
Together, the three hurried past Ko and across the estate.
"What's this about?" Hashirama asked, brows furrowed.
Tobirama shrugged.
"I hope nothing bad happened," Kawarama murmured, and his eldest brother huffed.
"The chances of that are slim," he murmured and took point once they reached a house that was about double the size of the surrounding buildings. Two long banners, proudly displaying the clan's insignia, were hung on either side of the entrance, flapping listlessly in the evening breeze.
One after the other, they filed through the door and into the large meeting room beyond, where many of their family had already assembled.
"Himawari!" Tobirama hailed his cousin when he spotted her auburn head amidst the crowd. "What's going on?"
It took the girl a moment to push through all the people, but she managed.
"Uncle accepted a bounty," she explained once she reached them, rubbing her elbow.
A few of the older kids her shot her nasty glares.
"Judging by the turnout, it must be a hefty one."
Someone tugged at Tobirama's sleeve, and when he looked down, he found Itama staring at him intently.
"You left me behind again," he pouted. "You promised I could come to the river next time you went."
"Itama, you're basically a midget. You would have drifted off before you even so much as looked at the water," Kawarama said and rolled his eyes.
Hashirama cuffed him over the head the same moment Himawari admonished, "Be kind to your brother. He might not be around forever."
They all fell quiet after that, exchanged quick glances. Hashirama scooped up Itama and lifted him onto his shoulders.
"I'm sorry about Homura," he said quietly. "I know it was a while ago, but we never really talked about it."
Himawari only shrugged, gave him a tired half-smile.
"I didn't want to."
They turned when Butsuma entered the hall from the other end and his clansmen formed a tight circle around him.
"This," he began without preamble and held up a thick scroll, from the end of which a seal dangled, "is an official summons by the Komora merchants in the west, beyond the mountains. They are asking for aid in defending their caravans and estate. Recently, there have been attacks on both.
"They suspect the Hoteki family have enlisted the help of a shinobi clan in order to boycott their trading routes. I will be taking every able-bodied warrior on this mission."
He looked over the faces of his family.
"The reward they offer is astronomical. We will be able to fix the roofs, buy new gear and fabric, stock up on rice. This could tide us over for months if we go about it the right way."
Excited murmurs followed his word and Butsuma, glancing at his sons across the crowd, gave a brief smile before his mien turned grim once more.
"From the looks of it, we're up against Uchiha, so come prepared. We will move at first light tomorrow."
"Do I get to go?" Itama asked, excitedly, as a general shuffling and rumbling arose around them.
"Are you crazy?" Kawarama snapped the same moment Hashirama gently said, "No. You're too small."
"I'm not!" Itama protested from his perch on his brother's shoulders.
Himawari reached out to pluck him up with a smile.
"Tell you what," she said as she all but held him by the scruff. "You can come when none of us can lift you up like that anymore."
He huffed and puffed and scowled but relented eventually, pacified by his cousin's assurances and Hashirama's promise he'd teach him a new jutsu once he returned.
With shining eyes he glanced at his brothers.
"And it'll be the four of us against the world."
They looked at each other for a moment. Then Itama whirled around.
"If I can't come with you I'll help you pack," he proclaimed, and skipped ahead into the small house joint to the meeting hall which the brothers' and their father shared.
Himawari took her leave with a lazy salute.
"See you in the morning."
"You're coming?" Tobirama asked, surprised.
"Of course," she said, smiled a grim smile. "There's an Uchiha I need to square up with."
"You mean Yashiro?" Kawarama asked, looking at her with wide eyes. "What are you going to do to him?"
Himawari's face turned frigid.
"Well, first of all I'm going to cut his sister into little pieces before his eyes."
She looked up at the sky.
"And then I'm going to take that cursed naginata of his and shove it right through his sodden chest."
"Tobirama. How many?"
Slowly, he opened his eyes, pulled back his hand, and rose from the ground.
"About ten," he said, brushing off his fingers against his pants. "But there is double that amount moving in from the east. It seems hey are not headed for the caravan."
Butsuma weighed his head.
"So for the moment we outnumber them…" He thought for a moment, rubbed his chin. "Eiji," he called then, and waved the man in question forward. "Take Fumihiro, Himawari and Arata. Circle round and see if you can draw out the smaller group by heading for the decoy caravan."
He glanced over his troops.
"Toka, you're with them as well. You're good with genjutsu, make it seem like you are more."
"They'll see through it," the young woman protested.
Butsuma nodded.
"Yes. But it might give us a moment. The rest of us are going to close in from this side, see if we can get them from behind."
"But that'll put us between the two Uchiha groups," Hashirama pointed out. "A manoeuvre like that is bound to garner their attention."
Butsuma looked between his sons and the rest of his clansmen, a grim smile on his face.
"Then we'll just have to be quick enough, right? With some luck, we'll be able to grind the team ahead to dust before the others even change direction. Move out!"
The group dispersed. Five of them hurried north while the rest trailed westward at a more leisurely pace. Tobirama was frowning at the ground, trying to match his father's footprints, but was broken out of his concentration by his brother.
"It is moments like this where you really notice Himawari is his niece," Hashirama murmured from the corner of his mouth. "They are both so ruthless."
"She'll be going after Yashiro, I imagine," Tobirama replied, skipping a step.
"Is he there?"
"Yes. He was at the very back of the group."
They broke apart to leap across some fallen logs, then fell into step beside each other once more. In front of them, their father's heavily armoured bulk cut a path through the night. Tobirama glanced back at the ground, skipped another step to make sure he matched the footprints before him.
Hashirama whistled through his teeth.
"Eiji had better keep an eye on her."
"She'd get him, though," piped up Kawarama suddenly. "She's older than him, and more skilled."
"What are you weighing in on this for? You barely have any combat experience at all," Tobirama snapped.
"I have enough," his younger brother bit back. "I have the best aim."
"Aim alone won't save you," Hashirama began, when Butsuma's voice sounded from ahead, "Stop it. If Kawarama keeps improving at the rate he does, he might just surpass Tobirama in speed. Such talent is best fostered on the battle field, not off it. He has earned the right to be here, just as you. And just as Himawari did. And if she gets that Uchiha …" He glanced back at them. "That means one less."
He turned around, picked up the pace.
Behind his back, Hashirama pulled a face.
"I hate this part," Hashirama murmured at Tobirama. "The waiting. It's just…"
He sighed. From behind a nearby bush, they could make out a retching sound, then Kawarama came stumbling out of the underbrush, wiping his mouth. His face was pale.
"Nerve-racking?" Tobirama suggested.
His elder brother chuckled, but without any real humour to it, and unclipped his flask from his belt.
"I suppose," he agreed, handing it off to Kawarama who was quick to rinse his mouth. When he tried to screw it shut again, his hands were shaking so much Hashirama reached to help him.
"Have heart, little brother," he said, smiling tightly. "We'll be watching out for you."
"You two are way too loud –" their aunt Inora hissed quietly, but stopped when Tobirama perked up suddenly.
"They moved. Father, the other Uchiha group changed course. They are headed straight for Eiji's party."
Butsuma's soft curse carried through the dark.
"They are not in position yet. If we move now, we won't be able to get the drop on them like we planned… How much longer?"
Tobirama closed his eyes, focused on the bright and blazing chakra signatures that were streaking across the planes far ahead.
"Maybe a couple minutes," he guessed. "If we are going to push, we should do it now."
His father nodded and pulled his chokuto from its dark sheath. In the moonlight, the blade gleamed like polished lightning.
"Yes. We'll split into two groups. Inora, take Hashirama with you. Tobirama, Kawarama, you're with me. Go as fast as you can, as hard as you can."
It was a mess. Of course.
Tobirama ducked under a stray fireball, then just barely managed to evade a volley of shuriken. They whizzed past him, two bounced off his armour with loud clangs.
"I thought hand-eye-coordination was your family's forte," he called over the noise of the battle, ducked underneath the kick his attacker aimed at his face.
"But it seems they are only keeping you around as a bad example on how not to do it."
He dodged another swing, and retaliated with a quick combination of kicks and punches, one of which grazed the man's nose.
"It sure isn't because of your pretty face."
"Keep talking," the Uchiha spat when they fell apart after their latest bout, and wiped the blood off his chin.
He only made it worse, smearing it across the lower half of his face.
"We'll see how you fare after this."
His eyes flashed red, and with the way he bared his teeth in a bloody grin, he looked like a demon straight from hell. He flew through a string of hand seals, faster than even Tobirama could reach for his shuriken pouch, and spit a gigantic fireball that roared across the plane. Tobirama jumped nimbly to the side and only just barely avoided getting singed, retaliated with a volley of shuriken.
Some distance behind his enemy, he could make out the blurred forms of Hashirama and Madara as they slung jutsu after jutsu at each other, met and separated in a clash so powerful none of the other combatants dared come in between. They were approaching dangerously fast.
Somewhere to his right, he could sense Kawarama darting in and out of the fray, slashing at hamstrings and knees, shivving through cracks between armour plates, too quick for anyone to catch. He seemed to be doing just fine.
A root suddenly sprouted from the ground, tripping the Uchiha Tobirama had been squaring off with, and quick as lightning he surged forward and swung his tanto. The man twisted out of the way but was too slow, and the metal bit deep into his unprotected thigh. Tobirama twisted the weapon, tore it free and spun in a tight spiral, dragged the blade across the throat of the staggered Uchiha.
Before the body even hit the ground he had already whirled around, flashed up to his father's side.
"They are getting too close," he panted, and blocked the low swing of a naginata that would have otherwise taken Butsuma's leg right off.
"Damn it," came the terse reply. "We won't be able to retreat once they reach us. Get Kawarama. I'll handle the others."
Tobirama nodded, dashed forward. He dove underneath a high kick and managed to graze the attacker's leg with a kunai. Twisting mid-step, he tossed the knife at the woman, forcing her to leap back. Her red eyes blazed with rage when she landed some distance away, clearly favouring one leg.
Tobirama didn't stay to finish her off.
Instead he dove into where the fray was thickest, dodged jutsu and stray weapons, leapt onto the toppled merchant's cart which was lying on its side in a sad half-singed mound of planks and tarp. Trying to find his brother, he frantically scanned the area ahead. An auburn mop of hair caught his eye instead, shimmering blood red in the fires that roared all around them.
For a brief moment, Himawari seemed unstoppable.
Like a dervish she cut through the battle, twin swords swinging left and keeping everyone valuing any of their limbs out of her path.
Her face was pure evil.
"Yashiro!" she roared, and even over the noise of the battle her voice carried with ease. Her goal was clear when, far ahead, a man stopped mid-step and turned around to face her. Eyes flashing red, he ripped his naginata from a fallen body and twirled the weapon almost lazily.
Himawari screamed.
Cursing, Tobirama moved to intercept his cousin just as, heralded by a whistling sound, a fireball smashed into the cart he perched on. Wood and flames exploded violently behind him as he leapt out of the way in the nick of time. Twisting mid-air, he glanced in Hashirama's direction. He and Madara were clashing even more violently now, and trees had started to sprout left and right only to be immediately obliterated by a rain of fire.
Way too close.
Tobirama tried to focus, make out Kawarama's chakra signature, but a large flail headed for his torso forced him to duck. His concentration slipped when the weapon clipped his shoulder, stars exploded behind his eyes.
"Yashiro!" Himawari cried again.
Tobirama shook his head to clear his vision, and finally he caught sight of Kawarama. For a split-second, they locked eyes. Kawarama glanced in Himawari's direction, back at Tobirama. Then he shot off into the fray, his small frame twisting between legs quick as a fox, and soon he was out of sight.
"Kawarama!" Tobirama called, moved to chase after him, when suddenly the ground beneath his feet bulged and split and a tree burst forth.
Thrown of balance, he clung to the wildly sprouting branches, desperate to keep his footing as the tree strained up, up, up with a groan…
An enormous ball of fire smashed into the base of the tree, larger than any he'd seen tonight. A shudder ran through the oak, and then it toppled even as flames raced up its trunk. Tobirama pushed off his branch, sailed through the air. Far beneath him, people scattered, threw themselves out of the way as fire rained and the ground turned into an inferno.
Over the shouting, the crashing, the sound of splintering wood, he though he head Himawari's voice. And then all that was left for him to do was run as the flames burned brighter, and Madara Uchiha bore down on his brother.
"Hashirama!"
"He really gave me hell this time," Hashirama murmured, dabbing at a split lip.
Tobirama glanced at him, the burn seared across his cheek, and never gave any answer. His brother clearly wasn't expecting one, gazing across the destroyed fields with sad eyes.
The sound of heavy footfall announced the arrival of their father.
"Where's Kawarama?" Butsuma snapped without preamble. "I told you to get him, Tobirama."
Tobirama narrowed his eyes, pressed his lips together.
"Go find him!"
He turned at the command, stalked across the battlefield, gave the body of a fallen Uchiha a wide berth.
"Kawarama?" Hashirama breathed as he jogged to keep up.
All of a sudden, his split lip and sorrow seemed forgotten.
"I thought he was supposed to bring up the rear. You're not telling me he was in the middle of – all this?"
He gestured widely.
When Tobirama didn't answer, he grabbed his arm.
"Where is he?" he all but shouted. "Where?"
"I don't know," Tobirama shot back angrily, shook off his brother's painful grip.
Pointing at a dome of blackened earth and stone that rose amidst the upturned grounds, he scowled, "But I can well guess."
Digging through the soil turned out to be more difficult than imagined. Beneath the first layer of charred earth, Himawari's rock dome proved adamant. Soon, Tobirama's kunai was dull and dented.
"Kawarama!" Hashirama called out next to him, face twisted in a fearful grimace. "Brother!"
No answer. He scowled.
"Stand back," he ordered Tobirama, placed his palm flat against the surface of the dome.
"What are you –" Tobirama began, but already a gentle rumble ran through the curved wall.
It cracked and splintered as tiny roots burrowed into its surface, and a part sagged outward. With it, wrapped into a cloud of dust and ash, sagged a single body, weirdly flat and covered in blood.
Aunt Inora, who had made her way over, knelt down next to him, grasped his weirdly misaligned chin to tilt his head this way and that.
"None of ours," she said after a moment. "An Uchiha."
"Yashiro," Tobirama murmured. "I recognise the scar across his nose."
Inora furrowed her brows.
"The one who got Homura?" She raked one hand through her auburn hair, closed her eyes, took a deep breath. "I told her specifically to keep away from him."
When she noticed both her nephews staring at her, her face darkened even further.
"What are you waiting for?" she snarled. "Dig!"
Behind the first layer of earth they quickly discovered rose a second one, just as hard as the first had been and smeared red all over. Hashirama made quick work of it. Perhaps too quick, because suddenly half the dome collapsed inward, releasing a plume of dust as it went.
In the faint light of the rising sun, they could make out two bodies, curled around each other, and even through the layer of dirt coating them Tobirama could make out strands of auburn hair fanned across a small, pale face.
Mouth slack, Kawarama stared at them through the curtain of Himawari's tousled mane as she curled over him, hugging him protectively to her chest even in death. A dribble of red ran down his chin, fell to the ground in a steady drip drip drip.
As Hashirama fell to his knees next to him, Tobirama watched Inora step past the collapsed ring of rock and gently, almost lovingly, run one finger down the splintered shaft of a naginata.
"Oh, Himawari," she murmured, placed her palm on the girl's back, next to where the smooth handle protruded from the girl's spine. "I told you the spectres of out past will always come back to haunt us."
She sighed, dipped her head.
"Poor Kawarama, as well."
Turning towards the Senju brother's, she cut them a pitying glance.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"This would be a good place to bury him. Kawarama always liked the fresh air, and the view from up here. And it's on Senju land, not too far from home. We could visit often."
Tobirama raised his head, followed the direction his brother was pointing. To him, even beneath the warm light of the sun, the hill which rose above the forest seemed bland.
"… I guess."
Hashirama glanced back at him, brows drawn together.
"You guess?" He snapped. "It's been three weeks, and you've yet to speak more than five consecutive words."
The corners of his mouth quivered, and he hugged the urn he was carrying closer to his chest.
"He was my brother, too."
Tobirama glanced back down at his feet. The grooves left by his father's footfall had turned up the soft forest ground. They were spaced too far apart for his dragging gait to match.
Next to him, Hashirama growled and pulled ahead.
A sudden flare of chakra, some distance away, drew Tobirama's attention and caused him to tense.
Two steps and he was at his father's side.
"Continue," he said. "I will catch up."
Butsuma looked at him, glanced at Hashirama who was forging ahead, stamping his footprints into the ground angrily. He gave a curt nod. His lips were pressed into a tight line.
Tobirama broke away from his clansmen at a measured pace that grew more frantic the closer he drew to his destination, until he was hurrying down to the river at a full sprint.
He found the woman perched at the bank, splashing water on her face and neck, scrubbing away the dirt smudged across her cheeks.
"You look like hell," he couldn't help but remark, and smiled in grim satisfaction when she flinched, jumped to her feet. For a moment she eyed him warily, then her entire face changed and she tossed her head in indignation.
"Excuse me, brat," she snapped. "But I don't recall asking for your opinion. And you aren't exactly squeaky clean, either. Who the fuck are you, anyway?"
Tobirama scowled at her remark, ran one hand across the many dents in his chest plate. The bandages around his forearms were stained a rusty brown, and he could feel his hair stick to the back of his neck, plastered down with sweat and dirt.
He looked the woman up and down. Covered in dirt and bruises, cuts fanning across her cheeks, she looked to be faring better than him, if only by a margin.
"These are the lands of my family," he declared in lieu of an answer. "You are trespassing."
Again, he added mentally.
The woman frowned.
"Huh. I didn't know anybody had claimed this forest."
She eyed him for a moment longer.
"Are you mad?" Tobirama snapped. "I told you these are clan lands three weeks ago!"
The woman held up her hands in obvious surrender, puffed up her cheeks.
"Okay, okay," she huffed. "I'm sorry if it slipped my mind. No need to bite."
She rolled her eyes, then looked back at Tobirama, considered him for a moment. She frowned.
"Are you… okay?" she asked slowly, tilting her head to the side. "You look…"
She trailed off, shook her head, then gingerly eased herself back down and started to unbuckle her left boot. When Tobirama drew breath to protest, she waved him off.
"Yes, yes, I'm trespassing,"she griped drily, "I know. But I'm not exactly fit to move just now. As soon as I get myself fixed up, I'll be out of your hair in no time. It's not really like I want to be here, either."
She pulled a face as she gingerly tugged off her shoe, then looked up to meet his eyes.
Tobirama scowled and didn't answer.
Instead, he sat back on his haunches and watched her across the water with the attention of a hawk. The woman's shoulders slumped, she smiled a bit.
"Thank you," she said, more quietly this time.
Then she turned her attention back to her leg. From his position, Tobirama could see the swollen and bruised ankle, sure signs of a sprain in his experience. She would be handicapped for several days, he thought, making her an easy target.
His eyes widened in surprise when green chakra sprang to life around the injury, curling around her foot like a tendril of light. More across her body that lit up almost the same second, their glow eery and faint in the late afternoon sun. One tiny flame licked across her cheek, and when it disappeared, her skin was healthy again with no sign of the little cuts he'd spotted earlier. A minute later, the swelling around her ankle began to fade and apart from the dirt that still clung to her dishevelled form, the woman looked as good as new.
She grinned when she saw his wide eyes.
"Want me to do you too? You look pretty banged up, you know."
Tobirama thought of his brother's haphazard healing methods, grimaced, and shook his head.
"No."
A slight grumble carried across the river, and when he looked at the woman sharply, she had her arms wrapped around her midsection and her cheeks were beet red.
"Ah… You wouldn't happen to have any food on you...?"
Tobirama hesitated. He still carried his pack on his belt, a few leftover bits of dried meat and fruit contained therein. Her stomach grumbled again and he sighed.
"I want it back," he said sternly, took off the pouch and tossed it at her across the stream. She caught it easily.
"Thank you!" she breathed, and immediately started digging through the contents.
Tobirama watched with morbid fascination as she stuffed her neck with as much food as her cheeks could hold, eyes closed in pleasure.
"Oh god," she moaned through bites. "This is the best meal I've ever had."
She looked at him, swallowed, and something about the curve of her mouth softened considerably.
"I am grateful. Truly."
He shrugged, crossed his arms. She smiled at the gesture.
"I apologise if this is too forward, but does your father share your colouring?"
She indicated his unruly mob if white hair. Tobirama frowned at her.
"No," he said eventually. "He doesn't."
She hummed thoughtfully and slanted him one last considering glance before going back to rummaging through his pouch. He watched across the river how she ate at a much slower pace now, picking out a few pieces while leaving others.
"You're rationing. Are you travelling far?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
She looked up, suddenly guarded.
"That depends," she answered slowly. Her eyes dropped to her feet, to the one boot that was lying discarded at her side. She was quiet for a moment, then murmured, "How long have I been running?"
Tobirama frowned.
"How should I know?"
He straightened from his crouch, stretched his aching muscles. "It sure as hell would help if you told me who's following you."
Because it was a puzzle, alright. He couldn't sense anyone but her. And either her pursuers were just that adept at concealing themselves, or the woman in front of him was mad. He was leaning towards the latter.
She looked at him with wide eyes.
"Remember," he warned before she could say anything, and pointed at the pouch still sitting in her lap. "I want it back."
With that, he turned and left.
He dragged his feet on the way home, but still caught up to his father and brother before they even reached the compound. Butsuma glanced at Tobirama when he fell in step beside him, but said nothing.
Neither did Hashirama, who was still forging ahead. He looked back over his shoulder, threw his brother an angry glare, then turned back around and stomped on.
When they turned the last corner and saw the gates, Itama was already waiting for them. As soon as he saw them, he took off at a sprint down the road, arms thrown wide.
"Brother! Father!" he called. Tobirama caught him up easily when Itama launched himself at him.
"Ko said you would be back! I waited, every day! I'm so glad!"
He pressed his little face into his brother's shoulder, then glanced at the others. His eyes flitted over the faces of his clansmen, and he frowned, tried to climb up higher.
"Where's Kawarama? And what's that urn Hashirama is carrying?"
The smell of incense still clung to Tobirama's clothes by the time they lifted the container filled with Kawarama's ashes from the little shrine, carried him through the main hall and out into the open. A few women passed by, stopped in their trek to place some of the tiny white flowers they were carrying within the wrappings of the urn. They bowed, smiled at the brothers, then vanished into the house behind them without a single word. On either side of the door, the Senju banners were flapping gently in the breeze.
Hashirama led the way, the urn cradled gently in his arms. They left the village, followed the northern path, and then veered off, crossing through a stretch of forest. In the distance, Tobirama heard the river murmuring gently.
Butsuma's impressive bulk was clearly visible even from afar, and when they ascended the hill they had picked out, Tobirama could make out his youngest brother as well. He was standing beside a small open ditch, fiddling with a rock clasped between his fingers. He didn't look up.
"You were right, Hashirama," Butsuma said as he looked at the urn, the white flowers nestled around the lip and already wilting. "This is a good place for him."
Gently, Hashirama set down the urn, and they all gathered around and said goodbye one last time. Itama began crying quietly when they lowered Kawarama into the ground.
"It was supposed to be us. Us against the world," he whispered.
Butsuma gently clasped his shoulder.
"But the world is a cruel place, Itama," he said quietly. "It already took your mother, and now it has claimed your brother, as well. It is better for you to learn this lesson early on."
Itama hiccuped. "We would have made it better," he whispered. "I know we could have done it."
Bending down to pick up a handful of black earth, Butsuma considered the open grave for a moment.
"No," he said after a while. "I don't think so. It is rotten to the core, and as long as things stay the way they are, there will be no place for goodness here."
He let the earth crumble through his fingers and into the ditch.
"Kawarama should have known that."
Hashirama and Tobirama shared a quick glance.
Bit by bit, they closed up the grave. Itama used his rock to mark it. He was still sobbing.
"This is the first grave I've dug," he whispered, wiped his nose on his shirt.
"And it will not be the last," Butsuma replied quietly.
He knelt down, drew two sticks of incense from his sleeve, and stuck them into the ground. Soon, twin wisps of smoke curled up from their tips.
"I wanted him interred with the rest of the family," he told his sons when he rose back to his feet.
He looked at Hashirama, then the lands which stretched beyond the hill: rolling forest as wide as the eye could see, with a high mountain range rising far, far to the west.
"But I am glad you convinced me otherwise. Kawarama will fare better here."
He bowed to the grave, then left. The three brothers stayed behind.
"We should hold vigil," Hashirama said, quietly. "He will appreciate it."
Tobirama scowled, turned, descended the hill.
"Where are you going?" his older brother asked in a sharp voice.
"To run," he replied bluntly. "I need – I will come back later."
And with that, he took off before anyone could get a word in otherwise.
Tobirama ran and ran, letting his feet carry him where they may. After what felt like hours, he ended up down near the river where a boulder, as big as his head and perfectly oval, caught his eye. He picked it up, thought of his brother's grave. He took a deep breath, then turned to trek back up the stream.
He passed the place where he had met the strange woman only a day before. Tobirama wasn't surprised to find her gone, but scowled when he noticed she had taken his pouch with her. Instead, for whatever reason, she'd left her boot. He tossed it into the river and smiled a grim smile when it hit the water with a satisfying splash, grasped his rock tighter, and trudged on through the forest.
His brothers were still kneeling at the grave, faces solemn, but when he sat down next to them and gently laid the boulder he found next to the rock Itama had placed, they bent their heads.
"Now it's just the three of us," Itama said quietly. "What will we do without him?"
"Endure, little brother," Hashirama replied in a voice that was equally low.
Tobirama nodded.
"It's all we can do. Keep walking forward, one step at a time."
"One step at a time," Hashirama admonished. "Yes, just like that. Keep your focus."
"I can't," Itama wailed, even as he clung to the branch fiercely. "I'm scared."
"You're fine," Hashirama soothed, the same moment Tobirama snapped, "He's only six. That's too young."
His older brother glanced at him from the corner of his eye.
"He has to learn," he replied calmly but firmly. "Kawarama was only a year older when we first taught him."
Tipping back his head, he looked up at Itama again.
"Just like that. Place your feet against the bark. Focus on your chakra and then …"
Tobirama didn't stay to see Itama's success. Instead, he turned and left.
"Where are you going?" Hashirama called after him.
"To see Kawarama," he bit back, then vanished into the underbrush.
He made his way down to the river.
The water was murmuring as happily as ever, and on the other bank, where the stream curved gently around a large flat boulder, he could make out the little fire pit where they sometimes sat and roasted the fish they caught on sticks.
He paused and frowned at the sight, and quickly bent down to pick out a pebble, as big as his fist and slightly jagged around the edges.
He then trekked back through the forest towards the large clearing that held his brother's grave.
"It makes me angry," he murmured once he'd ascended the hill, placed his rock on top of the small pile that was already there. They were all clean, glinting slightly with the water left by the summer rains. "He shouldn't have to learn while still so young. I know we did. But Itama is not cut out for this kind of life."
Letting his gaze sweep across the landscape, he noticed a column of smoke far, far to the east, so far he could barely make it out.
"But I suppose conflict won't wait until he's strong enough."
He considered the black plume for another moment, then knelt down and closed his eyes. Focusing, he could make out clearly the chakra signatures of his brothers, Itama's small and feeble in comparison to Hashirama, who seemed to blaze like a hundred suns. He frowned, stretched his senses further. Far beyond the lands of his family, where he had seen the smoke rise, he could make out the presence of a few Uchiha. He tried to identify them, but then felt Hashirama move.
He was headed towards the hill, as well.
Ill humoured, Tobirama opened his eyes and rose to his feet. He bent down to quickly press his palm against the topmost stone marking Kawarama's grave, then trudged down the slope and disappeared into the trees. For a long time, he headed west at a clipped pace, until he reached the foothills of the mountain range that rose out of the forest like a spine.
With quick steps, he leapt up a steep slope and stopped once he reached a little plateau. There he sat, facing that column of smoke again. He closed his eyes.
The winds tugged at his hair and clothing, bit into his cheeks. It was always frigid here, at the base of the sky-high mountains that rose at his back and cleft the land in two.
His concentration wavered, and the brief moment it took for him to regain focus, no longer than the blink of an eye, was all it needed for a new chakra signature to snap into existence.
Slowly, Tobirama opened his eyes.
Far below, there stood the woman, looking around as if she were appreciating the scenery. She was once again dressed in her black uniform, but had exchanged her boots for a pair of geta - much less practical. Their scarlet straps complimented the red swirl stitched on her back.
He frowned.
"If I were you," he called, satisfied at how the woman's head snapped around, eyes wide and searching until they settled on him, "I would have gone for more appropriate footwear."
She eyed him for a moment, pushed some strands of hair the wind had knocked loose back from her face.
Then she climbed up the hill.
Tobirama watched on while she picked her way up the rocky slope.
"Hi there, little you," she breathed as she sank to her knees next to him.
Tobirama tilted his head and eyed her. She seemed tired. Her shoulders were slumped and her cheeks pale, despite the rough winds whipping around the both of them. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail that was already starting to come undone. She looked a mess.
"Where's my pack," Tobirama asked flatly. "I thought I told you to give it back."
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, then turned her gaze back to the rolling landscape beneath them and shrugged listlessly. He tilted his head, considered the strained twist of her lips.
"Are you still running?" he asked.
For a moment, she was quiet, wrapped her arms around her middle.
"Am I ever not?" She murmured after a while. "I wish I could rest…"
She trailed off, sighed, closed her eyes. Tobirama weighed his next words carefully, looked her up and down. She ignored it, still staring out the the lush forests below and seeming far away.
He made up his mind then.
"Come," he said, rising from his cross-legged position.
"Where to?" she asked, looking at him with tired eyes.
"To the river," he said, crossed his arms. "There's plenty of fish to be caught there, and you look as if you need the food. Also, a fire. And perhaps later, we can talk about your continued trespassing on our lands." He scowled. "Because you really shouldn't be here."
Slowly, the woman dipped her chin, and Tobirama tried his best not to shift under the flat stare she turned on him. For a moment, he held his breath, wondering if he should have worded his proposition differently, and only released it quietly when she nodded.
"Okay."
In one smooth movement, like a snake rising out of the grass, the woman unfurled from her slouched position and climbed to her feet. Tobirama noted with chagrin that, standing up, she was much taller than him.
Wordlessly, he turned and led the way down the slope. She followed quietly, making nary a sound despite her geta slipping on the bare wet rock.
He looked back over his shoulder every few steps as if to make sure she was still there, and each time he found her staring back, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.
She never looked away first.
They reached the base of the mountain and he turned around to face her again, only to find that, once again, she had gone.
He continued mulling her over the entire trek home. She had agreed to follow him? Why would she just leave like that?
During dinner he was even more morose than usual, prompting his brothers to poke fun at him. He ignored them.
That night, he went to bed wondering. Wondering turned into musing, musing into stewing.
Stewing turned to anger.
He had invited her, hadn't he? And she had agreed. So why insult him like that and run away?
Tobirama felt snubbed, and fell asleep with his fists clenched.
Some time later we woke when the door to his room slid open almost noiselessly. Tobirama barely suppressed a groan. Even though his eyes were closed, he could feel his brothers inching closer.
"Psst," Itama whispered, "Tobirama."
He could feel his left eye twitch and chose not to answer. But his younger brother was undeterred.
"Are you asleep?"
"Yes," Tobirama growled quietly, pushed himself up on one elbow. In the dark, he glared in his brothers' general direction. "What do you want?"
"We're running up the river," Hashirama now whispered. "Come along?"
"Yes!" Itama added excitedly, lowered his voice when both his brothers hushed him. "We're going to catch moonlark!"
Tobirama groaned and rubbed his face.
"You've already eaten," he admonished.
"But moonlark's so good!" Itama protested, and his voice alone rendered his pout almost visible. "And they're only around this time of the year!"
With a sigh, Tobirama turned back his blankets.
"I know you're not going to leave me alone until I say yes," he grumbled. "Let me find my shoes."
"Oh boy!" Itama whispered and clapped his hands. Hashirama whacked him over the head.
"Shut up, pipsqueak," he hissed. "You're going to get us caught."
"I'm fairly sure we're already caught," Tobirama muttered and rolled his eyes as he groped around in the dark for his sandals, tugged them on. "You don't seriously believe father doesn't know about these trips?"
"Yeah, well, he never said anything," Hashirama replied in equally as low a voice. "So I guess he's fine with us going."
They snuck out of the house without any further noise, down unlit alleyways, and over the wall in the one moment they knew the guard wouldn't be able to see them.
Then, they ran.
Soon Tobirama could make out the river through the trees, glinting like a sliver chain with the light of the moon.
"Hey, hey," Itama yelled and laughed as he sped ahead, "Look what Hashirama taught me!"
And with that he launched himself out over the water, in a high arc that carried him up and up and up. He raised his hands, flashed through a series of seals. The water beneath coalesced, curved up into a mound, and Itama landed on it as easily as if it were solid ground.
He squealed, tilted his body. The water followed, and with more delighted laughter, he rode the wave upstream.
"Pretty impressive, huh?" Hashirama grinned, crossed his arms. "He picked it up in no time."
Tobirama only hummed, then followed after Itama who steered his wave until he reached the spot where the river curled around a squat flat boulder. He jumped off, released the technique mid-flight, curled into a tight somersault and landed smoothly on one leg, arms raised high above his head.
"Stuck it," Tobirama heard him whisper over the sound of water rushing back into its bed. Waves lapped at his toes as the river strained across the banks for a moment before falling back into its age-old smooth rhythm.
Easily, he walked across its surface over to where Itama was waiting, bouncing on his heels.
"What do you say?" he said, clasping his hands. "I learned it in one afternoon. We thought you'd appreciate it."
At the sight of his little brother's enthusiasm, the last of Tobirama's grudge faded away.
"Pretty good," he huffed, reached out to ruffle Itama's hair. "But it looks like you scared away all the moonlark."
Itama's face fell. "Oh no!" he wailed, bent over the edge of the boulder to glance into the water in concern.
"Don't worry," Hashirama said as he stepped up, and pulled back his brother by the collar. "They'll come back, we'll just have to wait a bit."
Together, they peered into the silvery waves.
"Say," Tobirama began after a while, "did any of you think to bring rods?"
Two synchronised slaps of palms meeting foreheads was answer enough. He rolled his eyes.
"Of course."
"But how are we going to catch any fish now?" Itama wailed.
Hashirama patted his head.
"Not to worry, baby brother. Watch and learn."
He clasped his hands and focused, and after a moment, three wooden rods sprouted from the palms of his hands.
"And how am I supposed to learn that," Itama grumbled, but took the makeshift spear Hashirama handed him anyway.
"Here you go," he smiled. "May the better brother catch the first fist. Now it's down to skill and speed."
"And patience," Tobirama, glancing at the water, pointed out. "The lark still aren't back."
"Then we'll wait."
So they hunkered down at the edge of the plateau, and did just that.
Amidst the tiny waves reflecting the moonlight, like mounds of broken glass, Tobirama almost missed it. From the corner of his eye, he glanced at his brothers, but they hadn't moved at all.
He focused on the water once more, and the silvery shape just beneath its surface.
His spear slipped into the river almost silently when he jabbed it at the fish, and when he pulled back, a scaly body was thrashing wildly at the tip. He held it up triumphantly.
"Dammit," Hashirama murmured, and immediately added a louder, "Dammit!" when Kawarama followed suit and caught a fish himself.
"Huh," Tobirama said, and couldn't help a lopsided grin. "Who would have guessed."
Together, Itama and him set about cleaning their catch with the help of sharp stones while Hashirama remained perched at the edge, spear raised above his head. The expression of concentration on his face was almost comical.
"They are really pretty," Itama remarked, turning the dead fish over in his hands. "They remind me of the moon."
A splash, triumphant "Yes," then Hashirama came sauntering over.
"That's why they are called moonlark, dumbnut," he said and plopped down next to them.
Tobirama looked down at his own catch. The scales reflected what little light there was, forming silver and pink crescents which, in the night, seemed almost luminous.
"Why do they only come at this time?" Itama asked. "The water is pretty much the same temperature all year round."
"They travel upstream from the Naka river," Hashirama explained, picked up a stone and began scraping away at the scales with practised flicks of his wrist. "Because that's where the dogwels go to lich every summer. They like to hunt moonlark."
"Huh…" Itama mulled this over for a second, then poked his big toe at the burned out fire pit in front of him.
"So, who's volunteering to gather firewood?"
"Well…" Tobirama mused. "That's sort of Hashirama's forte."
"Sort of?" their brother grumbled, even as he clasped his hands together and focused. "What am I, a utility dispenser?"
"Say, Tobirama," Hashirama said through a mouthful of food. Grilled fish sprayed everywhere. "Why were you so morose at dinner tonight?"
Tobirama shrugged.
"None of your business," he grumbled, took a bite of his moonlark, and promptly proceeded to burn his tongue on the hot meat.
Itama laughed at him.
"Naw, Tobi," Hashirama whined. "You never tell us anything anymore!"
"I never told you anything to begin with," he muttered, and waved his spit around to cool off the grilled fish. "You're too nosy."
"Still," his elder brother insisted, and grinned at him across the crackling campfire. "Let us know what is going through that brilliant head of yours."
Tobirama sighed. Nibbling on his dinner, he mulled over his brother's words.
"Have either of you ever heard anything about jutsu that can bend space?"
He spoke slowly, sounded out the words. His brothers shook their heads.
"You mean, in the sense of manipulating space?" Hashirama asked. "What would this technique do?"
"Yes," Tobirama nodded, "that's what I mean. Vanishing in one spot and reappearing in another."
Itama was looking at him with round eyes.
"That sounds impossible," he breathed reverently. "Where did you find out about this?"
"I didn't. It's just – just a thought."
Hashirama frowned. "You're not trying to come up with a new jutsu on your own, are you?"
Tobirama shrugged.
"It sounds difficult. Really difficult."
"I know," he said, glanced between his brothers.
The light of the crackling fire was dancing across both their faces, but where Hashirama's appeared gaunt, all sharps panes and angles, Itama's cheeks were round and full, expression bright with enthusiasm.
"But… If it can give me an edge in battle, it might be worth looking into."
Hashirama followed his gaze. His mien softened when his eyes fell on Itama, who was looking between his brothers with a huge grin.
"Just imagine!" he breathed. "To be able to jump across distances! You'd be the fastest shinobi in the world."
"Yes," Tobirama murmured, bent his head. Suddenly, he didn't feel like eating anymore, tossed the rest of his fish into the fire. It sent a cloud of sparks scattering skyward. "Sometimes I wish I already was."
"So what are you going to do?" Hashirama asked, and jumped across a bed of brambles. "About this jutsu?"
Tobirama shifted Itama higher on his back, gripped his knees more securely, then followed in one smooth leap. His little brother didn't even stir from sleep. His breath came in even little puffs that warmed the side of Tobirama's neck.
"I don't know," he shrugged as they trotted on. "Looking through our scrolls might be a good start. Maybe we already have something similar."
Hashirama hummed.
"You'll have to wait though. Father said he wanted us to patrol the borders with him tomorrow." He put a finger against his chin. "Unless…"
"Unless what?"
"Well, I'm sure we can find a way for you to stay at home. The trip is mailny so Itama can learn the ropes, anyway. We don't really need you there."
"I still think he's too young," Tobirama muttered after a moment. On his back, Itama shifted and sighed, snuggled closer. His small hands were dangling uselessly around Tobirama's shoulders.
Hashirama was quiet for a moment, then sighed. "So do I. But father is adamant. And, considering the circumstances…" He puffed his cheeks. "I do believe it's better for him to learn sooner rather than later."
"I suppose…"
"So… About tomorrow…"
Even in the dark Tobirama could make out his brother's face-splitting grin.
"Just be your usual grumpy self, and I'll convince father to let you stay at home. Then you can do your research."
He punched Tobirama in the arm.
"And when I get back, I want to know if you found anything useful."
The next evening found Tobirama sitting up late, buried up to his nose in scrolls and dust when, all of a sudden, a foreign chakra signature winked into existence. He shot from his perch like a scalded cat and across the corridor, kunai drawn, threw open the door beyond which he could feel the presence emanate from. He flew at the intruder and swung his knife, and they just barely managed to duck his swipe in a flurry of dark clothes and pink hair.
"Tobirama! It's me!"
He froze.
The woman was peering up at him from behind her raised arms, her face pale. He narrowed his eyes.
"How do you know my name?" he asked, voice tight.
She looked at him and frowned.
"You told me," she murmured. "Last night… I'm – I'm Sakura, remember?"
Tobirama took a deep breath.
"Please explain," he then ground out, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Never taking her eyes off him, the woman slowly sank to her knees and placed her palms flat on her thighs. Tobirama lowered his kunai.
She glanced about the room, at the various brooms and buckets stored within, licked her lips. Her shoulders sagged.
"You brought me here last night after I was wounded," she said in a hoarse voice. "At least I think it was here. This looks… A bit different."
Tobirama scoffed.
"I was with my brothers the entire night."
She looked up at him for the longest moment without saying anything, before amending quietly, "Last time then."
Tobirama drew breath to snap at her, but she cut him off.
"Please, I mean no harm," she said before he could get a word in otherwise. "I only…"
She fell quiet, closed her eyes. Her shoulders sagged.
Tobirama couldn't help the little huff that escaped, but he sheathed his sword and sat down across from her anyways.
"I know you mean no harm, you've had opportunities enough to prove it," he grouched. "But how do you do it?"
"Do what?" the woman asked.
He frowned down at his ink-stained fingers.
"The appearing and disappearing. It's almost as if you just – vanish."
She dropped her head into her hands then and whispered, "I do. You – "
A deep breath. She dragged the heel of her hand across her cheeks, combed her fingers through her damp hair in vexation. She tied it back into a high ponytail using a band around her wrist. She sighed.
"It was explained to me once, at least in theory. I'm a piece that's been knocked loose from my own timeline. And apparently now I'm just kind of… bouncing about in the past."
Tobirama scoffed.
"Such a thing can't be done," he snapped. "There's not even any techniques to traverse space, much less time. Nothing of the sort has ever been achieved."
Curling up, the woman propped her head onto her knees and sighed again.
"Perhaps not yet. But who knows what's possible? That's how it was explained to me in any case."
Something twisted uncomfortably in his stomach.
"It's impossible," he muttered. "I know it is. But it would explain so much… I mean, we crossed paths three times now…"
She frowned, and he tilted his head.
"Or didn't we?"
The woman shrugged.
"Sure, we met. A couple times, that's true."
She closed her eyes with a sigh.
"To be honest, I'm beginning to wish this would just turn out to be a genjutsu."
Tobirama frowned and, as unobtrusively as he could, brought together his hands.
"Kai," he whispered, but nothing happened.
Of course not. He frowned and thought for a minute, then looked up at the woman.
"So how do you know my name? You never told me."
She glanced at him in surprise.
"That's right," she breathed. "I suppose I never did."
She seemed to think for a moment.
"Are there any more questions you would like to ask?"
"Yes!" Tobirama all but blurted out. "Where do you disappear to? Do you even remember the last time we met?" And, to make sure, added, "What was it like?"
The woman smiled at him gently then, her eyes crinkling prettily at the corners.
"You were very kind," she murmured. He scowled.
"That's not what I – meant…"
But she was gone.
With a frustrated growl, Tobirama whirled around and tossed his kunai. It hit the wall with a dull thock. He left it there as he stomped back into the study, threw the door so hard he thought he heard the frame crack.
"I will read all of these," he announced to the room at large, glaring at the heaped up scrolls.
"I will figure this out. And if it takes me my entire life."
word count: 10,806
A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far! As promised, this next chapter is much longer than the prologue.
I hope you like it!
Happy reading,
planless