I Prefer The Stars
Summary: The Sun is the brightest star in our sky because it is the closest, but it is the far away stars, whose light we see despite such a great distance, that hold insurmountable possibilities and potential. When given a true chance to shine to their true potential, which is more beautiful? Which will lead the way?
The first time he'd heard that moniker - Demon Child, Devil Spawn, Hellish Boy, Battlefield Fire Demon, Uchiha Demon - he thinks he had been perhaps seven, his younger brothers just out of toddler-hood and his older brother and himself only just starting proper shinobi training, taijutsu and basic chakra control and the such. He remembers being torn between scoffing at such a lofty moniker and being scared, because the adults who had whispered it had sounded traumatized, horrified, terrified, as though they had truly seen a glimpse of hell and wished they had been the lucky ones to have died in that encounter. Of course, years later, as the whispers grew with horror and admiration and irritation and unlimited fear, he met the so called demon, out on the battlefield and he saw for himself why such whispers followed that name. More than half of his lifetime, he had feared it, had hated it, had refused to trust it, had tried to drive it away, from his brother and the village he had dreamed up and made reality.
Even years after the Uchiha's supposed death, he had heard stories, nightmarish in their reality even as more and more people started to believe them to be overly exaggerated. The name itself was power, was enough to make thousands quake in fear, caused nightmares to all those who heard it. He went to his death wondering how he will deal with that particular Uchiha in the Pure Lands only to never meet him there. Not even decades after. Not even when the Uchiha finally died. Somehow, that one soul defied all natural and spiritual laws and remained out of the Shinigami's reach before he can be ferreted to the land of the dead.
Years later, he was there to see the world reminded that the stories were not at all exaggerated when they spoke of the Uchiha's legendary power. The world was given proof of just how dangerous the man was and then some as the world fell before his feet even with reanimated, immortal soldiers, beasts of immeasurable power and strength gifted by the Rikkudo Sennin himself. He had been there to watch it all happen, to fail in preventing it.
It took two betrayals, one of which was foiled, the other by a being who was centuries old, older than the tailed beasts, and a being that may as well count as a goddess, more powerful than even the Sage of Six Paths, for that Battlefield Fire Demon to be taken down once and for all. It was not battle that took him. It was not due to skill or stamina or strategy or even teamwork. It was not power or strength.
No, it was something as simple as removing a tailed beast from its host and even an Uzumaki had trouble surviving that for long, no matter their natural vitality and incredible healing chakra. No Jinchuriki could survive that. Not without some serious assistance and the man had been beyond wanting of it.
He had been there to watch, to witness for the second time a star flicker out, right in his range of sensing and this time far too close for his comfort for when he suddenly felt cold in its absence.
That feels like it had been a lifetime ago. And, given that he had not ended up in the Pure Lands when the jutsu summoning him back to the land of the living was released but had instead found himself in his own five year old body again, it was not at all unlikely that it had been a lifetime ago.
With a two year old Kawarama in a baby sling on his back and a five months old Itama in his arms, Senju Tobirama couldn't help but listen in on his father's hushed conversation with the captain of the Senju child killing squads that had been sent out on a mission at dusk yesterday and had returned at the break of dawn, mere ten minutes ago. Healers had to be fetched to try and calm the man into some coherence. The squad he had left with had consisted of exactly two dozen ninja, hardened, battlefield warriors who had faced enough Uchiha for many to envy them for living to tell the tale, especially given who some of those Uchiha had been.
Only the captain had returned and he had returned only because he was sent back as a message to the Senju.
Tobirama could feel no sympathy for him as he watched the man hysterically babble incoherently, his chakra spiking more and more with fear and paranoia the further he got into trying to explain his experiences, for he had never supported what this particular second knee uncle did. Tobirama loved children. He loved taking care of those who are younger than him. It had been his great joy to take care of and rise Kawarama and Itama in his mother's stead when illness took her not long after she had brought his youngest brother into the world. He had mourned her, of course, but he had known Itama could not suffer for it and had instead directed all of his attention to his brothers to make sure they grow up to live happy and healthy.
He had failed last time, but he won't fail again.
"If you do not start speaking like a grown, reasonable man, I will-"
"Butsuma-sama, it was as though the child is a devil! At his command, the forest burned and a demon rose from the earth! That is no child, that is no boy! That is a youkai, an oni, a curse upon our clan! He was so fast and his eyes-"
He wasn't sure how he had ended up alive again, with a second chance, with all of his brothers still alive and not even his mother yet taken by the illness to which they will lose her to. A form of infection they had no equipment, even with Tobirama's memories of his previous life and knowledge, to cure. It was a chance he knew he did not deserve, not after the life he had lived, not after he had done so many unredeemable things. Edo Tensei alone should have doomed him for eternity, and yet he had seen the Pure Lands, had been then given this chance to fix things, to keep his siblings alive, to stop the war before it reaches its breaking point.
He has no idea how, but listening to the frantic captain speak makes him doubt he was the only one.
He brushes it off, as he has no actual proof, and instead focuses on his brothers. Kawarama and Itama, whom he has loved as unconditionally as Hashirama, grow into healthy boys, as they had the last time, but he takes greater care with their training when Butsuma starts the first awareness training all shinobi must receive when they are practically still toddlers. He doesn't think much of that one instance where he had wondered, for a second, if someone else remembered, because the only reason he really listening in on his father's conversation that time was because he was an adult in a child's body and had known which signs to look for. For all he knows, what the captain saw was a genjutsu or even his mind playing tricks on him after some furious Uchiha had caught his squad. He had no way of saying if it was a change from his first lifetime or not.
But then he is seven again and there had been no retribution from the Uchiha in two years for that child killing squad, as though the Uchiha knew nothing of it and Tobirama gets cold chills down his spine. He dares not reach out with his senses, dares not try to find that one chakra signature that burns like a star even with the full moon shining and hiding all the others in its light, for fear of what he may find. He wasn't even sure which outcome he would fear more, all things considered. All he knows is that he doesn't dare search for it, doesn't dare find out.
But then he is nine and Kawarama does not receive the scars forming an X on his cheek from a barely escaped Uchiha patrol squad on Kawarama's first outing with other adult ninja to oversee his tracking training and Tobirama knows, without a doubt, that something has changed.
It is easy for him to slip out of the Senju Compound without anyone batting an eye, for he has rather escalated his own experiments this time around. He needs extra training to reach the control and chakra reserves he used to possess in spades in his previous life and given that he didn't want to stand out even more than he already does for his more Hatake looks and mind and the brilliance of it in creating jutsus and other things, he needed to train outside of the Compound often enough that people were used to him leaving at any time of the day or night. They had no sensors whose range could reach more than a mile outside of their Compound and Tobirama had always been careful to go beyond that, in case one day he might need to leave that range for whatever reason. Creating such a habitual occurrence in his clanmates turned out to be an extremely good move on his end, as it allowed him to go about as he pleased. And since everyone knew he can't be taken by surprise, they didn't bother risking ever coming out to check on him in fear of being caught by a stray experiment or jutsu gone wrong.
It allowed Tobirama to go to that blasted Naka River, the exact same location where it had all began in that other life, when two heirs made friends even though they were enemies, where they shared a dream that would one day lead to the most devastating war the shinobi world has ever seen.
He half expected to find the riverbanks empty. No one remembered besides himself. Not even Hashirama, which hadmade him discard an early on hypothesis that the more powerful individuals had remembered, which had, of course, actually been born of that overheard conversation and the doubt that he had been the only one to come back like this. But his anija didn't and Tobirama wasn't sure if he was imagining it or if he was only now noticing it because he didn't have the inexperienced mind of a child so it was obvious, but he thought Hashirama might be avoiding him. He sure as hell never tried to seek Tobirama out when he was locked away in his little personal lab their father built for him after realizing how amazing Tobirama's mind can be or when he squirreled himself away in the library, but Tobirama had written it off as Hashirama's typical fear of studying and paperwork. He did try to avoid as many of his lessons despite being the future Head of their Clan.
So Hashirama didn't remember and he was much more powerful than Tobirama, therefore disproving Tobirama's early theory, which had left him wondering if creating Edo Tensei had anything to do with this.
But the riverbank on the Uchiha side wasn't empty and it was far, far too early for the other to be waiting for Hashirama to show up for them to start their epic friendship made up of lost little brothers, pacifist ideals and a shared dream of a village to protect children. Black eyes zeroed in on him with the same intensity Tobirama had grown familiar with over the many years they knew each other. This man had been his fear for his power and his skill, his enemy for the clan he was born in, his most loathed person for stealing so his Anija's heart, his greatest irritant for all that his brother never shut up about him, his greatest foil for he had admired the stubborn man's brilliant mind and witty sharp tongue, his greatest point of insecurity for he could never trust him (not after the rumors he heard, not even after finding out the truth behind said rumors because those were even more horrific in so many ways), his greatest regret for driving him to insanity for killing the man's last brother and then pushing him away from the village he had helped build, his greatest sorrow for he had taken the man's peace to the point that not even death could satisfy him.
Tobirama perhaps knew this man better than Hashirama had ever managed to get to know him. Tobirama had always watched him, expecting betrayal, expecting an attack, a misstep that would lead the village to ruin. He had observed all of his habits and had dissected every word that came out of his mouth to the point they might as well be butchered. He had known he was dangerous for he was, in far too many ways, far too similar to Tobirama himself and he knew what he was capable of. In the end, by the time the Uchiha before him left the village, by the time he died for what seemed to be the final time at that time, Tobirama had known him better than Hashirama ever could, for he had always liked more the ideal behind the man than the man himself as he really was.
It was no wonder Uchiha Izuna said they could never trust the Senju when Hashirama never saw his older brother for what he was, but rather as he wished him to be. It was no wonder Hashirama never realized his friend was spiraling before he left the village in the dead of the night.
"Uchiha," he greeted the eleven year old whose eyes never left his as he exited the tree line, the two of them somehow the exact same distance away from the river. Tobirama didn't approach the river directly, instead starting a slow prowl in a circular motion, as though he was considering just walking away.
But the other didn't need the Sharingan to read his intent. This particular Uchiha had always been a mold-breaker in his clan and he knew what Tobirama was doing and copied him perfectly. "Tobirama," the Uchiha purred and the Senju almost stiffened. Almost. For it was a confirmation, one the other felt no need to speak. Which implied he had known, from time unimaginable and unknown, that Tobirama remembered. That he knew they were not meant to be here.
"How much do you remember? For how long? How did you know I remembered? Why does no one else remember? Were you involved? Why me? Why not Hashirama?" Tobirama asked in quick succession, crossing the river, walking on the other bank and stepping on water once more, the Uchiha mirroring him easily, with the same grace of a prowling predator. They had both always had an affinity towards cats, now that he thinks about it. "What have you done, Madara?"
Madara tsks at him, once again walking on the shore, in a tighter circle this time as they seem to be slowly making their way to meet in the middle should they continue on this track. Whether it will be a violent meeting or a peaceful one depended on their conversation until they meet at ground zero. "I remember it all, I imagine at least a year longer than you. I woke up with my memories the day of my mother's death but too late to prevent it. As for how I knew you remembered, it was rather obvious the day your chakra unerringly sought out all the signatures you usually use as your references, the signatures you always look for when you would return from a mission. I don't know whether you realize it, but I have become a part of those signatures even if the reason behind it probably differ, given our relationship last time around." That earned a flinch for forgetting that, despite not being his match, Madara was still a damned good sensor. Of course he'd felt that panicked, automatic search. "As for why you remember and no one else besides us does, it's because I willed it so." Tobirama faltered and Madara chuckled, but it wasn't malicious or even overly mocking. "What? Hadn't you asked me what I'd done, Tobirama?"
He had, but he hadn't actually expected an answer like that. He had almost hoped some greater power had done this. "How? And that still doesn't answer the question of why me? Wasn't anija your best friend? You built Konoha together." Tobirama had to stumble a few steps to keep up with Madara's uninterrupted prowl so they'd stay even.
"I was under the impression that 'everyone knows' it was Hashirama's dream, that he built it. Didn't even the Uchiha 'acknowledge' that?" And now Madara was mocking and Tobirama flinched at his own words being thrown back at him. "You were right, to a degree. The village as it was was Hashirama's idea. I just wanted a place and a way to keep my last remaining brother safe, alive and happy. To make sure my clan was properly taken care of. Konoha isn't really the answer. My plan wasn't, either, which is why I've decided to play Rikkudo Sennin and fuck with the reality of the world myself. I've already saved my second younger and my youngest brothers' lives. Hiroto and Hirone are alive today because I intercepted a Senju child killing squad last year. Ryouta is alive today because I intercepted another one four years ago. Ryouta was only two years old when the Senju snuck into his nursery last time and killed him. Hiroto and Hirone had been only thirteen months old when I'd lost them. As you can see, I was not content with simply changing things around Izuna's death, Senju. And unlike Hashirama, I know you would, gladly, risk and sacrifice the idea of Konoha in exchange for your brothers, living and healthy and happy."
The white haired boy had to close his eyes to hold off the emotion that came with those words, with the acknowledgement he gave them with a single nod. Yes, Hashirama wouldn't. His dream of peace was peace for all, while Tobirama would have indeed preferred a peace for their brothers above anything else. As he's always known, he and Madara are indeed more similar than Hashirama and his supposed best friend will ever be. "That still doesn't answer the question of how." He'd rather focus on that.
He opens his eyes when he feels a surge of chakra, both familiar and not. The eyes before him both surprise him and not at all. Of course Madara would have the Sharingan already. Of course he would still have the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan. He had apparently made the conditions under which they returned to the past with their memories. He wanted to change things, so of course he wouldn't make himself weaker. The Rinnegan was a bit of a surprise, really, all things considered, even if it shouldn't have been. Despite its unique requirements, perhaps whatever Madara did had a way of going around it.
And then he watched, a bit transfixed, as Madara's skin turned as pale as the moon and his hair even whiter than Tobirama's. Still the messy style he'd had as a child, wild but short, but the midnight black turned stark white, his bangs parted under the headband like horns and then the headband split, revealing a third eye, red like the Sharingan but with the Rinnegan's circles among the tomoe, glowing almost eerily over two purple orbs. Madara's clothes had also changed from the simple kimono shirt and short pants he had been wearing, leaving him in his Six Paths Sage Mode regalia, full with his Sun-Moon staff and the Truth Seeking Balls hovering in a circle behind him.
"The problem," the first ever to achieve the same power as the Rikkudo Sennin started, eyes looking a bit distant, as though in contemplation. "With choosing the strongest and the cleverest for your plots is that, at one point, even after you make the checkmate move, it is very likely they will want out. I was not ... fully aware, once Zetsu forced me to absorb the chakra from the God Tree, but I was there enough, in that darkness that tried to consume me, to overwhelm me and give everything that I am to Kaguya, to understand what was going on. To hear the story, the history. Behind our war, behind the 'curse of the Uchiha', behind the existence of shinobi and chakra on our planet. And I grew mad. They thought they can use me, that they can use my clan, for their schemes? Not if I had a say in it. I still had the Rinnegan. That's a doujutsu the Otsutsuki don't genetically posses. My theory is that Hagoromo got it from his human side mixing with the chakra Kaguya shared with her sons. That, or learning how to manipulate natural energy. One or the other. Regardless, I had the Rinnegan. I was aware. Kaguya and Zetsu both were busy."
They were in a considerably tighter circle as they spiraled closer to the middle, their meeting point, the one that will decide whether they will be enemies or allies. Now that Tobirama knows that Madara has all of his power, there is no doubt in his mind that the other can kill him with barely a thought. Regardless of what hapens here, Madara will have no problems in him, no opposition. "What did you do?"
Madara smiled wryly. "Why I absorbed some of Kaguya's chakra, of course. There was just so much that I figured why shouldn't I help myself, ne? It would only be fair, after all. Having the Juubi ripped out of me may have killed me, but I had been more than okay with that. Letting that old, judgmental fool playing god think he got what he wanted ensured he wasn't fast enough to realize, let alone react to what I was doing. With the chakra - in nature and reserves both - necessary to bend reality to my will, I simply rewrote the world so we could have a second chance to ensure a better future. For both our clans. For the world at large."
"You're not going to try and eradicate the shinobi world again, are you?" The Senju asked warily, the diameter between them just a couple of feet by this point. And it was only getting smaller.
"Of course not," Madara snorts, insulted, and then to prove he was serious - or because his body was too young to keep that mode too long - he let the Six Paths Sage Mode recede, so only the Rinnegan remained. Still a threat assessment, then, but less severe. It seemed he approved of their interactions so far. "I am not a mad fool driven by grief now. I know the truth behind Zetsu's lies and the Uchiha Stone Tablet has been mysteriously destroyed in the Naka Shrine. The Hagoromo Clan are main suspects."
Tobirama couldn't help but snort, impressed and amused and not at all surprised. The Hagoromo had made a sport of child hunting. No wonder Madara didn't want them as allies. And the name of the clan just coincidentally matching the Rikkudo Sennins must be just a coincidence, surely, he thought with heavy sarcasm. Madara's idea of the perfect revenge had always been petty. (His idea for Tsuki no Me wasn't inspired out of revenge but a desperate attempt to have his brothers back, to find 'true' peace, after all.) It was more frustrating that way on the target's side. It was almost worth admiration, really. "What do you need me for?"
"Your intelligence? Your resourcefulness? Your compliance not to interfere and potentially screw up my plans? Your help in finding and killing Zetsu? Take your pick, Senju. And before you think you can so callously decline," Madara said as Tobirama opened his mouth to make a comment and tensed, getting ready for threats aimed at his person or his loved ones. "Remember that you struck Izuna down so you owe me."
Tobirama spluttered. "Are you serious!?" Because of all the methods Madara would use, he hadn't thought the Uchiha would settle for emotional manipulation as the way to go. The older boy just shrugged, of all things, like it didn't matter.
"I have no reason to threaten or blackmail you," the other reasoned. "As long as your brothers and your clan live, I rather doubt you'll care about what I am doing if you don't get involved beyond the fact that I'm not trying to destroy or rule or remake the world. I don't care about the war this time around any more than I did last time and this time, I don't need Hashirama to stop it," he points to his eyes as if to make a point that means very little to Tobirama but he suspects the Uchiha might care a great deal more about the Rinnegan than anyone else ever will. "I could use a good plotting partner, though."
An invitation, just as they reached the final circle before they are to meet each other in the middle. Before they are to meet each other half way, in the middle of the Naka River that separates Uchiha and Senju territory. An invitation that he probably won't get again, a chance to have a say in how this new world Madara will be fighting for will affect his brothers, his family, his clan. A chance and an invitation Madara hadn't had to give him.
"We are ... isolated, Tobirama," the Uchiha says, his gate slowing and Tobirama automatically matches him, almost unconsciously. "We are the only children with memories of a lifetime of regret and sorrow and knowledge that can help save hundreds if not thousands of others of the same pain we once endured. If we work together, we can make a better village, a better shinobi system that will not have as many loopholes for darkness and political plays to seep in. I know you know what I am talking about. You were Hokage. You tried to plug in those holes and utilize the darkness for good, but it backfired. With Danzo. With ROOT. With the Kyuubi. We have ... We have a chance to make things right. I would honestly prefer it if we can work together on this, Tobirama."
The Rinnegan fades, first into the combined pattern of Madara's and Izuna's Mangekyo before quickly cutting to the normal Sharingan, mature with its three tomoe lazily spinning in blood red until it, too, fades to black. Madara was making it clear he will not attempt to manipulate Tobirama into making this decision, won't influence him, wants his honest answer and opinion.
They come to a stop across from each other, Madara's back to the Uchiha lands, Tobirama's to the Senju. The time to make a decision, then, the time to set the tone for their further interactions. Would they be enemies, even when peace is at hand like the last time in Konoha? Or will they find peace between them as well. Tobirama didn't have Izuna's blood on his hands this time around and he will do his best to make that stay the status quo for as long as he can. As long as Izuna doesn't go for his loved ones ...
And Madara had a point. No one was like them. They had only each other to lean on for support and understanding about the burden they carry. They are the only ones who can share it.
"We have," he starts, takes a deep breath and lets it out as a quiet, slow sigh as he steps forward, taking Madara's hands in his own in a move he would have never dared to do in their previous life, not even if Izuna had survived and been in Konoha with them and Madara hadn't hated him for the fact that he wasn't. "We have ... So much to be careful of. I'm not sure how we could pull this off," he says pessimistically to Madara's elated grin that he was accepting.
The older boy takes a step towards him as well, leaning in until they were chest to chest and leaning down just that little bit needed to make their foreheads meet. Black eyes never left red ones. "It might be hard for anyone else, but I am sure that the two of us could do it if we put our minds to it."
And the shorter boy couldn't help but smile, a bit ironically, at that, because he knew it to be true. They'd never truly gotten along, to the very end, in their last life in Konoha, but the few times they had been put together in charge of a project - so many hours of work put into the Academy, into the ranking system, into the plumbing system and electricity grid plans, into making Hashirama do his goddamned paperwork - it had been marvelous and no one could stand in their way no more than in the way of a force of nature. "Then I guess we have no choice but to do so now, too."
And, as one, they released their chakra to mingle in the way only meant to be done when a pledge was made between shinobi, between sensors, a promise to last a lifetime.
For the first time in his life (lives?) Tobirama found himself straying from his brother's orbit.