"They kill each other."
Hagoromo- his father grasped his hand, and pondered, implored so faintly- serene. "Be with them, then- trust your love will overcome hate. For an old man, eh?" He smiled, and Shukaku smiled back, unable to completely dispel the faint foreboding that laid heavy in his chest.
…
It was only as he interacted with Indra- and later, Asura- that he realized how much of himself he'd lost in his reincarnation. It had already been somewhat obvious- his father, for all his power, barely came up to his chest, and the fine details inherent in sealing were incredibly annoying. Compared against Indra, though… it made it real.
He was not human. Objectively, he knew that. Subjectively, when a three year old Asura couldn't understand why the villagers shied away from him as he tugged him through the town to the compound. When they'd slip out of his way with poorly hidden fear Indra would glare at them with his adorably childish petulance, which really didn't do much to help.
He understood their wariness- the Juubi's apocalyptic rampage, fire and crimson terror fresh on their minds. For the most part he ignored them- but as much as he wished it didn't, it wore on him. On the cold nights sitting around a fireplace with Kokuo, the Sage and his children, conversation flowing freely- laughter on winds and gentle smiles, he could almost imagine- just going to the market. Speaking. A past of metal and machines, and none of that sickening fear.
When Indra turned five, he stopped leaving the Ootsutsuki compound, the last of the bijuu to do so. His father hugged him close after the celebration and whispered the platitudes he desperately needed to hear- and he desperately allowed himself to believe them.
The years grew long.
…
His father grew more distant after his wife's death. Not much- just a faint veneer of joy where it'd once been genuine and wholehearted, a wizened sage where there'd once been a man so overflowing with life and vibrancy. A hint of austerity, the flowers she'd always given him absent once again from his robes.
Aside from him Kurama was the only one who'd noticed- emotional sensing at its finest- but there was really nothing to do. After all, despite the almost uncharacteristic worry Kurama showed for his father- what can a twice-teenager suffering through the exact same loss hope to do? So, as the years dragged by he alternated between fuuinjutsu experiments and attempts to just… be there for the human part of his family.
Sighing, he set his brush to the side- careful not to knock over the small jar of ink resting to the side. He'd been growing, recently, shooting up almost a foot a year and the increasing difficulty he had with his Fuuinjutsu supplies was only an annoying reminder of the fact.
He was not looking forward to being the size of a city.
"Shuku!" A little kid skidded around the corner to knock into him, just barely avoiding the ink. "I did it! I- oh, is that your fuuinjutsu stuff? A storage… uh… something about size?" He shook his head, blinking to clear his thoughts as his shaggy locks flew everywhere. Indra was a cute kid when he got all earnest like this. "That's so cool! Look! I did it- you just have to harmonize your internal energies, like an inverse chakra transfer jutsu- then adjust the frequency to the the most prominent nature nature in your body…" his face furrowed in concentration as he held his hand out, a weak flame flickering into existence above his palm.
"Impressive!" Watching how he lit up at the rumbled praise, it was hard to see the incredible destruction that lay down that path. "I'm sure it'll be very useful- perhaps the potters and the cooks would appreciate a few techniques? I'll ask Kokuo to help you with your fire release."
Indra nodded seriously, letting the flame peter out with the last remnants of his chakra before rushing off in the other direction- far too excited to maintain his puppy-like facade of his father's cool demeanor. Shukaku just watched him leave with a faint look of pride somewhere in the vast complexity that was emotion- he'd never gotten to be a big brother, before.
…it was nice.
Sighing, he curled up and sank into the shared mindscape, tugging gently at Kokuo's presence until he stumbled into mindscape beside him with a faint nod of greeting. "Shukaku. It's been some time since you've last joined us."
A look of such resigned weariness slouched across his form, and Shukaku couldn't help but chuckle at his woe. "Matatabi?"
"Son Goku is always getting into fights with Gyuki, Matatabi makes a mess of the wastes whenever she goes out to run, and the others are always climbing over each other to spend time with father. It's worse than the compound wall incident."
Shukaku snorted in barely restrained humor. "I remember that. Kurama jumped on top of Chomei to get into the compound early- and Isobu barely dodged Gyuki. Give them my regards when you manage to wrangle them into behaving."
"Nobody wrangles Kurama. He is the unwranglable."
"What about father?"
Kokuo looked heavenwards in fond exasperation. "Father doesn't wrangle Kurama- all he has to do is enter the room and the silly kitsune will melt into a puddle of happiness and general amicability." Shukaku thought back, and bit back a dopey smile at some of the fond memories. "...what did you need me for?"
"Indra managed to make a fire release
ninshu, and I can't help him with that element. If you could, I'm sure he'd love the help." Kokuo's face was carefully blank for a moment before he sighed, nodding. "How you get them to like you, I'll never… for you Shukaku."
"I'm sure he can help with your chakra transfer ninshu-" and that was all he needed to say to get him to perk up right back up again. "How's that, by the way?"
"I'm getting really close! Father said that I have enough control for the receiving step, and I'm almost at the second stage of the connection…" for a few- minutes or hours, or just time immaterial, they spoke of memories and chakra and long days spent pursuing myriad interests, and when he dropped out of the mindscape he was content to ignore the future.
…
A month after Indra turned ten years old he got in a spat with Kurama over some inconsequential fire release technique- Shukaku hadn't heard what it was about more than the general idea of 'foxfire,' but it ended like most of their arguments did- with copious amounts of brawling.
Except- Kurama was the Kyuubi, and Indra was a ten year old kid who proceeded to get summeraly defeated by a single swipe of his tail, two ribs and his arm broken as he was tossed into a tree. Father had come running, pulling them apart with his gudodama, sending Kurama away before healing Indra.
He scolded them both equally, afterwards, but Kurama avoided his youngest siblings after that.
…
Matatabi, as Shukaku understood from the time he spent with her, could care less about Indra, but disliked Asura with a fervent passion befitting her fiery nature. It was stupid, and illogical, but the absolute thrashing he received when he told them so disinclined him from pursuing it further.
It would manifest as a polite disinterest when their father was around, and she never took it much further than that when he wasn't, but she refused to interact with him.
Shukaku thought he reminded her of his mother.
…
Indra was thirteen when Isobu told them in his shy voice that he'd been inspired to explore the peace and quiet of the deep sea. Son Goku- his closest friend amongst the brothers- fought so incredibly hard to keep him with them, but the turtle had always had the most resolute of wills when he set his mind to something.
In the end their father had to separate them, and for all Shukaku's attempts at mediation they were perfectly content to just… ignore one another. Two brothers left, then, instead of one.
Two days later Shukaku found his father sitting beside his wife's grave, folded neatly into a meditative pose as eyes so weary stared down at the flower-littered patch of earth. They sat together in silence for a long while, quiet- content for a moment to bask in the nature of vibrancy and springtime airs.
"I plan to send them on their journey, soon. In five years, or less." Lines of stress wore weary tracks around his face, purple eyes eerily dark in the midday sun. "Both Hamura and I spend no insignificant amount of time traveling after we trapped the Juubi, and it will do them both good to experience the world outside of the Ootsutsuki village." He sighed, pushing his gudodama to the side and gently sprawling out on his back. "The sky is beautiful, isn't it?"
Shukaku bit back a snort. "Get to the point, old man. You look stressed."
"I fear, son… I thought, after you told me your tale, that the future you spoke of would be impossible. I tried so… so hard. For her-" and they both know who she spoke of. "For my mother's dream, before she stepped too far and went… very mad." Talking about Kaguya was perhaps the thing Hagoromo liked the least, but here… here he was just quietly exhausted. "If I've failed as a father to you nine, then how much more have I to Indra and Asura? I fear my foolishness may have damned us all."
"No. You're the best father anyone could have ever asked for-" and he spoke with the resolute conviction of completely believed, the logical reasoning of someone who'd had more than one father across the years and worlds. "We're a handful- I'll admit that, but you've always been able to keep us settled."
"Six Paths senjutsu does not a good father make, Shukaku. Especially to two little humans…"
"You're not perfect, but hey- nobody is, right?" After a second's consideration he laid down beside him, careful not to cause any undue damage to the graveyard. The sky really was beautiful- a touch of cerulean blue, a sea of wispy white and the beaming sun hung across the firmament's tapestry. "Let me rephrase what I said earlier- you've managed to keep us remarkably well adjusted, despite the distrust from the others. You're charming, peaceful, wise, and resolute. You-"
"Alright, alright! You sound like your uncle- he'd always nag me about my worrying, then go and formulate the most outrageous plans. The moon was his idea, you know?"
Shukaku thought back to what he could remember of his uncle before he'd left- the long nights spent exploring fuuinjutsu, days together with the family, ink-stains all across his father's pristine robes. "Yeah… yeah, I can see that."
"I suppose I fear for nothing… but, I cannot help but imagine how it could be. Everything is so similar to what you spoke of…"
"Father, please. I don't think there's any reason to worry- Indra loves his brother, and Asura loves Indra immensely too. Things are different already- there's nothing to fear. So long as you ensure Indra he's still loved, I don't think he'll be all that upset." A little smirk crawled onto his face. "Plus, can you imagine Indra giving your sermons? He'd have a panic attack the first day."
The Sage of Six Paths, the man, Hagoromo wheezed with laughter. "True, true indeed." A moment, in peace- "you're a kind soul. I will never regret giving life to you, son- thanks for assuaging and old man's worries."
"Love you too, father…" ah, the sky really was beautiful, as flowers on a breeze fluttered beside him, and the moon hung, just barely visible over the horizon.
…
"That must be frustrating." Fifteen year old Indra had translated his belligerent introversion into an unfailingly polite, almost unnerving calm mask. Just under six feet tall from acute not being malnourished, the languid grace and cold eyes looking down at his work might have been intimidating were he not a twenty foot tall bijuu who remembered his attempts at the same indifference as a bumbling six year old.
He- carefully- set his current project down beside him. "What? Using the brush, or trying to figure out how this blasted thing works?" Storage seals, he'd found, were both incredibly versatile and almost impossible to get a specific effect from. Drawing one just slightly wrong could cause it to store twenty times more, or- much more likely- make it explode.
"Both, I suppose."
"Take my word for it- growing up sucks."
A smile quirked across Indra's otherwise blank face. "I, for one, have no plans to grow twenty feet tall."
Shukaku sighed in forlorn exasperation. "If only. I'm gonna be almost a mile tall, one day." Then even the massive corridors of the Ootsutsuki compound wouldn't be able to hold him. No amount of austere woodwork and careful construction could account for his future size.
Indra gaped for a moment before cooling his expression back into his polite mask. "Inconvenient doesn't even begin to describe that. I hope you get some of your ideas working before then. Either way, I was coming to you in hopes of recruiting your help with my wind release training-"
A blur crashed into Indra, knocking him over- right into Shukaku's inks. "No help me! Izumi and Aki and- they didn't believe me when I said I could control the earth!" Ah. Asura- precocious thing, just as fast as Indra in a race, ten times as clumsy, and incapable of not putting a smile on his face.
Indra scowled at his little brother as he pushed himself off the ground, white robes stained splotchy black. "That's because you can't use earth. You can barely use some of the most basic ninshu- why do you think you could use earth release techniques?"
"Well…" Asura fiddled with his fingers as he glanced between his brothers, face scarlet in some impressive mix of embarrassment and indignation. "I was like- 'hey dad, can you please tell me what super awesome things I can do?' and dad was like, 'ah, yes son. With my sagely sage ways and super cool eyes, I foresee you can do tree release-' and I was like 'tree?' and he was like 'earth and water' and then I told Izumi and Aki and they don't believe me and-"
"Alright!" Both of them fell silent at once, Asura sheepishly and Indra… still sheepishly, but cold and collected at the same time. "I can teach you both elemental manipulation- just keep in mind that my chakra control's still sort of terrible. I probably won't be able to help you with anything really fine." The two nodded, the actions eerily similar despite the differences between the two boys. "So, tell me where you're at.."
"I can manifest some amount of wind natured-"
"I was working, and I can get the chakra to go like, rumble in my coils, but then I have to make it earth natured and I can't-" They both stopped talking at once, glaring at each other in the seconds before Shukaku whacked them- lightly- over the head with his tail.
"Talk politely, you two- one at a time." The silence stretched, both of them eying each other with a sort of playful wariness. They thought they were being subtle, but Shukaku could practically see the thoughts running through their heads as they waited to interrupt each other. "...Indra. You first."
"No fair-" a sharp look shut Asura's whining down, but the sulking in the corner was completely unnecessary and entirely his own prerogative.
Indra glanced to the sulk-corner, clearly trying to hide a snicker. "Right. Well, before my baby brother punted me into your fuuinjutsu supplies and interrupted my self-assessment, I was saying that I'd managed to both create and expel wind natured chakra, but cannot maintain any significant degree of control over it."
Sensing Indra's time for speech was up, Asura's sulking was promptly forgotten in favor of… exuberant… speech. "And I can't get the chakra to do the earthy thing! I mean, I can get it to almost, but there's just… something. I don't know. It's like the chakra wants to be earth, but it doesn't want to be earth natured."
Both of them were silent for a bit, allowing him a second to think things over- or maybe to mourn his lost fuuinjutsu supplies? It was hard to know with them. "...Indra, understand that wind release is different from fire or earth release. It doesn't like having a set path, nor appreciate the firm will necessary for earth techniques. It needs to be guided, but not forced. Asura, try using your water and earth affinities together, instead of separately."
"...but wouldn't that make it harder?" Asura was the one who'd asked the question, but it was pretty clear Indra was thinking along the same lines even if he was nominally focusing on his own task. "I mean, I like- having to learn wood and water release at the same time?"
"Not necessarily. I couldn't use earth or wind release separately until after I gained some mastery over my sand. I suspect you have something pretty similar. Try drawing on your chakra-"
"Okay!" Before Shukaku could stop him he yanked on his own internal energies, blasting out a massive shockwave of bluish white energy which had the coincidental duel effects of absolutely ruining any chance of salvaging his fuuinjutsu equipment and blasting the wall off the building. "...uhm-" he looked to a supremely unimpressed Shukaku, and an Indra who'd reached the end of his daily getting-knocked-over -by-Asura patience. "We have a… nice entrance to the courtyard?" Something groaned worryingly in the ceiling above them.
Ah, the puppy eyes. A shame he tried to use them within range of Indra's fun-canceling aura. "You're still in trouble-" and perhaps it was a little funny the way Asura immediately deflated, followed by Indra's lazy eye-roll. Grinning, he flicked out with his tail, sweeping the two of them up into his arms and ruffling Asura's hair. Not Indra's- he hated that, but his presence was comfort enough for the older of the two. "Come on, let's go get father. If we're lucky maybe he'll give us a lesson on chakra, and then we'll really understand elemental natures…" they slipped off into the dim halls of the compound, gently talking about the many myriad natures of chakra, of life and fun, anything and everything.
For now, it was enough.
…
Three years later the Sage of Six Paths sent his progeny on a journey, to select from them his heir. His final words to them before they left were a promise- that no matter what, he would always love them. The disciples bowed low at the end of his speech, and the people of the village lined up to watch them leave- even the bijuu who'd yet to distance themselves more completely came to watch from one of the nearby mountains.
Kurama of all people came- not for Indra, for he could care less, but for Hagoromo's sake. Really, all it had taken was a single request- not even delivered in person- for the kitsune to drop everything and come running. Father's boy indeed.
Generally, though, it was a happy affair- which was why he found it eminently odd to come across Kokuo sobbing in a corner of the Ootsutsuki compound after the speech. They'd both grown a fair bit taller, so as much as he was trying to huddle up in the corner he really took up the whole hall.
He stepped up to him, then paused, not quite sure what to say. Instead, he just laid his tail over Kokuo's back, dragging him into a close hug- an iota of comfort. Kokuo sniffed, then returned the embrace with his five tails- which was unfair in how much better his hugs were. He wasn't the one being comforted. "...kaku'? Wha' you doing here?"
"My brother's crying inconsolably. Where else would I be?"
"With Indra and Asura." A snarl laced its way into his voice- almost frightening in how much raw emotion suffused the air- grief and anger, faint undertones of betrayal- "you know? The heirs."
Shukaku frowned in confusion, carefully winding around the bijuu so as to sit by him, side by side. "What's wrong?"
"I- I worked so hard to be heir- and, and I wasn't even given a chance! All Indra and Asura did was get born, and then they were both- both just better. Indra can use all five nature transformation and I can barely even transform my chakra from its elemental nature to an unnatured form- and- and I still can't do the chakra transfer ninshu!" His voice had risen steadily as he rambled until it was a bassy shout, sorrowful and immense. Loud-
Shukaku stepped back, trying his very best to adopt the same serious mask he'd used so often as a child when Kokuo would come to him asking so many, ever various questions. "Try not to worry yourself overmuch about it. Bijuu chakra and reserves make everything difficult-" Kokuo choked out a strangled laugh between his furious tears, because if that wasn't the truest thing to have ever been said then their father wasn't the sage of six paths. "-and, besides, I'm sure there was a reason-"
"They hate us! Father- father doesn't- didn't want ninshu to be about malice and anger, but- but how can I be heir if everyone hates me?"
"They're just afraid-"
"No!" The pure vehemence carried within the sudden wave of killing intent, boosted by the nature of the once-Juubi's chakra was stunning in its intensity. Kokuo clearly felt strongly… sometimes he forgot how much harder his siblings would take the constant wary looks, the silent distancing and subtle distaste- he'd had nineteen years of emotional maturity to buffer him against that- his siblings had been children. "No- they hate us! How can you stand their- them- their looks, like we're rabid animals-" he gasped, voice giving out as he stepped away from Shukaku.
Shukaku softened his face into a gentle frown, wishing he'd mastered his father's gentle cool, or even Asura's exuberant happiness. If only Chomei wasn't molting right then… she'd always been the best of them at cheering them up. "I'm sorry you've had to go through that. The Juubi is a really terrible mom, eh?" His grin was weak-
"Shut up!" Ah, not a time for a smile, if he even could after that. "You- it's not the Juubi- they hate us because they hate us. You tried everything, everything- and now we're here, hidden and hated. You shouldn't try- they don't deserve you to try! I hate them!" He snapped his mouth shut-
Yin and yang. Unconscious, unbalanced, and weak- but a bijuudama, however unfocused, was still enough to blast the entire eastern wing to rubble and burning wood. Eyes wide at the sheer destruction he'd caused, Kokuo took a step back- mouthing some unknowable phrase repetitively in mute horror.
Shukaku reached out slowly, but perhaps he couldn't hide the fear- his disappointment, for that was far worse to his brother- and Kokuo barely gave the hand a glance before bounding away into the mountains with few powerful strides.
He tensed to leap after him, then stilled as a hand- small yet so impossibly strong- grabbed his leg. "Give him some time." Father… he couldn't help but relax in his grounding presence. "Do you think he'll take it well if you came after him right now?"
"...no," and if it was a grudging allowance, then nobody needed to know. "I just wish I wasn't so useless."
"He'll calm down and talk to you eventually. He's your brother- he'll always love you." A pause- "you're not useless, either. You're prime entertainment for an old man like me!"
Shukaku snorted softly, letting some of the oily-slick tension, that nervous miserability, drain from his body. "Stop pretending to be Hamura, dad. I'm… not in the mood for this right now." He was silent, for a moment staring at the incredible devastation around him and envisioning the same thing a thousand times over in a city for peace between two brothers who'd never war. "They hurt him. My little brother-" he'd be so mad if he'd realized that was how he thought of him. "Those worthless humans-"
He froze.
Worthless humans.
As if he wasn't human-
He wasn't-
A spectral arm of Susanoo enveloped him completely, powerful blue-white chakra embracing him completely and punting away his existential crisis for another time. For a moment, in the ruins of the Ootsutsuki compound- with his father- he allowed himself to just… relax.
…
A year passed, Kokuo nowhere in sight, every attempt to reach out through their shared mindscape rebuffed with extreme prejudice. In retrospect, learning to ignore and avoid problems- read: terrified villagers- since an early age probably hadn't been conducive to perfectly healthy emotional development.
At least he'd escaped those particular maladjustments thanks to his reincarnation, thought Shukaku with no little bit of relief as he avoided the villagers with near-religious fervor.
He'd even managed to avoid that existential crisis! Great times, all around.
…
As he'd expected, Indra was the first of the two to return- a year later yet still perfectly collected as he strode through the village to the mostly repaired Ootsutsuki compound. By the time he'd escaped to Shukaku's domain after being greeted by father, the villagers, and everyone who could had enough strength to stand and gawk, exhaustion was written clearly over his face, faint annoyance hidden in the crease of his eyes. "How Asura manages that-" he sank into a meditative pose on a cushion with all the grace he could for what was essentially a flop- "I will never know."
There was a moment of silence as Shukaku finished the last small line in his slightly adjusted storage seal, stretching uncomfortably long as he placed it off to the side to dry. "It's… an acquired taste. How did the journey go?"
Indra graced him with a look drier than the sands of the wind country wastes. "Given the amount of ridiculous tasks I had to complete, I'm rather confident the 'wandering randomly' part wasn't quite that random at all. Besides that, though, it went rather well."
"Hm?" A clump of sand floated over to the seal before forming into a somewhat wobbly blob as he flicked his tail over to the paper and channeled just a bit of chakra through- and grinned as the entire mass disappeared with the faint thump of displaced air. "Spill, please. I want to know."
"It was either a tragedy of good fortune or a comedy of errors, I know not which- several months into my journey I stumble upon a small village in the wastes flourishing with life. Curious, I ask them to show me the source of their wealth- and they lead me to a seedling of the god tree."
"What!" The jerk of the brush over his seal and the resulting poof of smoke and fire was suitably dramatic for the moment, he thought.
A soft grin- or, the equivalent for Indra, a small quirk of the lips. "Indeed, my thoughts exactly. Overcome with incredible fear I demanded that they destroy it once, lest they risk the destruction of the world, using my father's title as proof of sincerity. Unfortunately, they took offense to the perceived threat and attacked with lethal force- I managed to restrain them with a small earth technique after developing-" his eyes bled into the lurid red of the sharingan, perfect cool momentarily disturbed with something both grimace and gleeful joy in equal measure- "and destroyed the seedling with a powerful fire technique. Thankfully no ten-tails manifested."
Shukaku hummed in agreement, watching as his third seal sealed the exact same amount of sand as the first. "That would have been… very bad. Still, that couldn't have taken you a year."
"Correct. Additional reconnaissance after the destruction of the seedling revealed a general aura of apathy and despair in the settlement, due to a belief that they would perish of starvation without the localized natural chakra overflow of the seedling. I then proceeded to offer the construction of a well in recompense for my actions, and attempted to use an earth technique-"
"-which failed." Shukaku didn't even need to look up to see the annoyed glare sent his way-
"-yes. Which failed." By the time he'd finished his seal Indra's polite mask was once again emplaced. "I then spent several months meditating on the nature of chakra and control thereof while simultaneously utilizing my… incredibly… limited water techniques to refill the reservoirs. I was actually inspired by your seals for this." Shukaku paused where he'd about to seal another ball of sand away, looking at Indra with sudden intent- watching in careful awe as he flashed through a set of hand seals, chakra contorting in a myriad of basic patterns.
He'd give a lot for proper tenketsu to use those… that would solve so many problems. Well, he had an eternity to get his control up to par. "Very… impressive. Yes. That."
"You sound unimpressed."
"I sound jealous."
Indra's peal of laughter was as unexpected as it was bright- a sonorous roll of some forgotten bell, as beautiful as he'd remembered. "Chakra control issues, again?"
"You try having a bijuu's reserves one day."
A solemn nod. "Fair enough. Regardless of that matter-" a neat tilt back, just far enough to avoid his tail- "my hand seals ultimately proved adequate for the task, and I dug a two hundred and fifty foot deep well for the villagers over the course a day. I… these hand seals are going to be more important than even the internal chakra manipulation, I think."
Shukaku nodded softly, positioning yet another globe of sand above a seal. "A lot of people are gonna be able to use higher-level techniques because of those. Good job." He could see it- the cities they'd build, the technology- a mechanized world, a soul out of place… wistfully he activated the seal with perhaps a little too much chakra, and suffered the flare of light and snap of sound in return.
It wasn't enough to break Indra's facade, but he could swear those eyes were laughing at him as his bloody sharingan immortalized the memory of him floundering with his sand to put out a fire, and the morose droop of another failed seal.
…
Three months after Indra's return he made a breakthrough with his sealwork- the storage seal wasn't a single character that meant store, but instead an incredibly advanced matrix simplified into a single character over a thousands of years long game of seal telephone. Well, the equivalent of that in a world where proper rice farming was a revolutionary development, at least.
Either way, when he first, finally finished an exploding tag, he felt as if he could cry. Carefully channeling chakra through it, watching the lines light up-
It exploded.
Perfect.
…
One and a half years after Indra's return- just after Indra's twenty second birthday- Asura returned with a gaggle of awed foreigners behind him, and a resolute- if perhaps a bit intimidated- woman by his side. He wove a tale almost eerily similar to Indra's- a sapling of the god tree, and a well dug, this time through sheer grit and community effort rather than genius techniques.
The two brothers reunited on rather amicable terms, even if they lived more separately- Indra in the compound, and Asura with the villagers. Indra's hand seals even managed to do the impossible-make Asura somewhat, passably, a little bit decent with chakra techniques. Well, at the very least he didn't blow things up with unrestrained chakra blasts anymore.
Indra was distant, but that was normal enough, and Shukaku was far too busy basking in the fact his newfound seal barely-competency that actually allowed him to interact with a few brave humans to prod his antisocial little brother into human interaction.
A shame Kanna- Asura's wife- the woman he'd brought back from his journey- seemed to fear him so much. She was such a nice woman otherwise… two years passed with little interaction with Asura- either brother in truth, but that was fine. It was, and he'd keep telling him that until it stuck.
He knew Shukaku's story. He had a lot of hope it'd go differently- but still… it was probably a good skill for a monster like him to have.
Two years, one month, and fourteen days after Asura returned to the compound, Ootsutsuki Hagoromo, the Sage of Six Paths, proclaimed his heir to the ways of ninshu and the domain of peace: his son, Ootsutsuki Asura.
…
Shukaku stumbled- almost literally- across Indra in one of the back hallways to his little warren.. "I… I don't know what to feel about it." Scarlet sharingan met his golden eyes, a scowl etched onto a normally placid face. "I knew this was coming- my techniques are good, but Asura was always the people person. He makes a good heir. He's my brother. I still feel…"
"Betrayed?"
"...yeah. How'd you know?" It must be a bit worse than he'd thought, the very personification of pose and composition sounded that worn.
Shukaku wrapped his tail around the boy, tugging him into an embrace. "Feelings can be illogical. Your older brother Son Goku felt betrayed when Isobu left to explore the oceans, even though he didn't really have the right to decide that for him. Matatabi probably felt betrayed by your mother's death-"
Indra chuckled softly, voice just a bit raspy. "Oh shut it, you tanuki-shaped ball of sand. I'm not a four year old- I understand that emotions exist."
"Really? I always thought your blank-face mask was for when you forgot!"
"Tanuki-shaped ball of sand." He leaned into the embrace, the tension draining out of his body faint, but noticeable. "My gratitude for putting things in perspective. I'm proud for my brother- and that's all that matters." A faint hint of red crept on the tips of his ears- very faint, but Shukaku could read Indra like a particularly well written book. "I still find myself compelled to take a small retreat- perhaps back to the village I saved- to distance myself from the excitement, and perhaps develop a few new techniques. Not that I don't want to be here, but-"
"Sometimes you just want to be alone. I understand. Just remember that we're always here for you." He set him down on the floor, exerting the utmost maximum of his fine control to brush off most of the sand. "Have fun, little brother."
"I won't be gone forever- and I don't plan on going alone. There's two rather dogged followers of mine who I think would appreciate the chance to learn from me, and I'd be able to increase my… people skills." The grimace on his face at the last two words was enough to make Sukaku laugh out loud, clutching his stomach as the low, hysterical rumbles echoed down austere corridors and overgrown gardens. "...I know. You don't have to rub it in." He smiled- a real, true smile like Shukaku hadn't seen from him in an age- "goodbye, Shukaku. I'll be back, one day."
Shukaku watched him stride away through the dark halls, robes fluttering dramatically in a wind release he'd clearly used for purely theatrical reasons, and daydreamed of fantastical futures and petty hopes.
…
The Sage of Six Paths should have been immortal. There was something incredibly wrong, he thought, standing in a vast underground chamber, nine young bijuu in a ring around their dying creator- about his father dying. The Sage of Six Paths should have lived forever, bringing peace and hope to a mourning world. The Sage of Six Paths shouldn't have been able to die- but Ootsutsuki Hagoromo, the mortal, could die of a simple cold and a bit of chakra exhaustion. If he hadn't sent Hamura that letter with his rinnegan…
A shaft of moonlight lit the chamber in shimmering pearlescent white, gleaming off the cold stone floor. Hagoromo smiled, faintly- a tug of his lips as rinnegan amaranthine met his mother's grave. "...children." The bijuu shuffled closer, eyes wet with unshed tears. They'd all come for this last moment- the others had already said their farewells, but here- at the end of legend, they were all that remained. "I'm sorry… that I couldn't do more for you. Know… know that even if they did… I never, could never hate you…"
"You were the best father we could have asked for." Kurama stepped forward, pressing his nose against Hagoromo's side, followed by each of the others as they offered their final words- their final thanks, for the life he'd given them and the love he'd lavished upon them. "I- we- we love you, will always remember you… …goodbye."
" Gamamaru gave me a… prophecy, once. About a gold-haired kid, and blue eyes. But… don't worry about the future." His eyes locked with Shukaku for a long moment, so pained- yet still as bright as he'd ever seen. "Live… well. Enjoy the peace I've made for you my… my children." He coughed, specks of blood staining his once-white robe, chakra visibly flickering as he summed the strength to fold his hands atop his chest. "Remember… please, remember… I will always love you."
The Sage of Six Paths closed his eyes to the poignant words of a man who'd yet to live, the words Shukaku had used over and over again, and Shukaku wept. For a man who'd meant everything to him, who'd given him hope and truth, comfort and the stability of knowing there had always been someone he could go to, someone who shared his fears and hopes-
As his gudodama faded, black orbs crumbling to dust and so much shining light, he wept for a world without its savior. He wept for a world without his father.
The Sage of Six Paths died as he lived- in peace.
For nine immortals, time moved ever onwards.
…
Ootsutsuki Indra did not attend the funeral.