Chapter Text
When Hashirama finds a hawk waiting for him the next morning he’s ecstatic that Madara is so serious about their childhood dream. After all what else could Madara be writing about? He’d groomed Tobirama into the perfect bride for his best friend. His otouto was the type to bottle all of his feelings up and ignore them, Butsuma may have been the one to teach Tobirama to do it, but Hashirama was the one that regularly took advantage of it. It had been all too easy to arrange everything, Tobirama was loyal to a fault and conditioned to obey him, another leftover from their childhood. Sure he might have exaggerated Izuna’s condition, he honestly had no idea what damage Tobirama’s strike had done, but he wasn’t worried; Tobirama would never mention Izuna to Madara and Madara would never let his husband near his baby brother. Hashirama knew his plan was perfect; soon he’d have his village and Madara would realize he should have sided with him that day at the river.
Madara’s letter is short, barely a sentence, but Hashirama has to read it nearly a dozen times before it sinks in.
“The Uchiha will honor the ceasefire, but that’s it.”
All of his planning, his observations of Madara, and his grooming of Tobirama, worthless. What possible reason could Madara have for such an uncharacteristically stupid response? He’d always known the Uchiha as a whole were idiots, and Madara was especially dense, but this was a whole new level of stupid! The only reason his best friend would have done this would be if Tobirama had acted like a normal fucking human for once and fucked everything up. That’s okay though, Hashirama thinks, he has a back-up plan after all; he’ll just make Madara see that creating a village is the only way to keep everything he cares for safe.
When Tobirama had first come to the Uchiha compound he had expected to be treated like the freak he was in the Senju Clan; at worst he’d anticipated dodging fireballs every few minutes and at best to be treated with hatred and contempt. Instead he’d found a home where no one thought he was cursed, where no one was afraid to meet his eyes or just casually throw an arm over his shoulders. Tobirama had quickly learned just how tactile the Uchiha were and even being a Senju and married to the clan head hadn’t made him exempt from it. He’d also learned that while the clan clearly thought he was the submissive one they didn’t expect him to be docile, in fact they tended to value his words as though they had come from Madara himself. He didn’t care what role they thought he played, all that mattered to him was that it was him, and no one else, that got to pound Madara into the bedding at night.
“Is your clan always this welcoming?” Tobirama asks Izuna one day over tea a couple weeks after the wedding; Madara was tied up in meetings he didn’t have to attend for the day so Izuna had demanded they hangout. The double Mangekyo Sharingan transplant had been a success, completely reversing the damage done to both pairs of eyes and leaving the two strongest Uchihas stronger than ever.
Izuna hums thoughtfully, leaning a little heavier against Tobirama’s side. “Not usually, no.”
“So I’m special?” The albino asks, bitterness lacing his tone despite himself; it was never a good thing to be special.
“You are special Snowflake,” Izuna chuckles rubbing his knuckles into the snowy locks until Tobirama shoves him off with a huff. “You’re absolutely stunning to us Uchiha, if you weren’t Aniki’s you’d have lots of people fighting for your hand.”
“What?” Tobirama blinks in surprise, he knew Madara said he was beautiful but that was only because they were married, wasn’t it?
“Fair skin and red eyes is pinnacle of beauty for Uchiha,” Izuna points out, “you are literally our definition of beautiful Snowflake.”
“Stop calling me that,” Tobirama huffs, doing his best to ignore the rising warmth in his face; he knew he was blushing, he just hoped Izuna wouldn’t mention it.
“Beautiful or Snowflake?”
“Both.”
Izuna regards Tobirama for a long moment, Madara’s eyes letting him seem more than he had ever before. “You’re not used to compliments are you?”
“I was considered cursed by my clanmates,” Tobirama mutters, eyes falling to his feet, “a ghost of their most hated enemies come to haunt them.”
“Have I mentioned yet that I really hate the Senju?” Izuna mutters, gently grabbing Tobirama’s chin and forcing him to look up, “and you’re an Uchiha now, don’t forget that.”
“Thank you Izuna,” Tobirama says with a small smile, glancing toward the gate moments before it clatters open and Kagami runs over to them.
“Izu-sensei, Izu-sensei!” The young Uchiha pants, bracing his hands against his knees to catch his breath as Izuna jumps off the porch to stand before his student.
“What’s up Kagami?” Izuna asks with a slight frown.
“Madara-sama is looking for you, he says it’s urgent!”
“Stay with Tobirama!” Izuna orders as he rushes off to see what his brother wants; Madara wasn’t the type to exaggerate so he knew it must be bad.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Tobirama grumbles, even if he knew Izuna had said it because he was worried about Kagami.
“I’m not your babysitter,” Kagami states with a grin too innocent for a shinobi, “I’m your protector! Izu-sensei and Madara-sama said I get to protect you from the Senju should they be dumb enough to show up here.”
Tobirama can’t help but laugh despite how touched he is because hearing something his husband clearly said coming from the curly haired 14-year-old is hilarious. “I feel so much safer with you around Kagami.” The albino says with a smile, ruffling the Uchiha’s hair.
“Since Izu-sensei is clearly busy now, can you train with me?” Kagami asks, stunning Tobirama. Sure he knew that the Uchiha accepted him, but so far the subject of him training with anyone aside from Izuna and Madara hadn’t come up.
“I can’t help you with your Katon,” Tobirama warns, not wanting to get the kid’s hopes up.
“I know!” Kagami states, “but you’re stronger than Izu-sensei and you know his weaknesses so you can help me beat him!”
“Well when you put it like that, how can I say no?” Tobirama chuckles, letting the younger shinobi lead him to one of the closer training fields; clearly Kagami had been told not to go too far from the compound. “Why don’t you show me what Izuna has taught you already, that way I know how many errors I have to correct.”
“I’m telling Izu-sensei you said that,” Kagami chuckles as he starts going through what he’s learned, because he knew Izuna’s reaction would be hilariously over the top and something was likely to be set on fire.
“Go for it.”
As it turns out Izuna was a very competent sensei and Kagami had already mastered the basics. Tobirama may not know all the specifics of the style Kagami’s learning, but he knows enough of Izuna’s style to give Kagami a few counter moves. Things are going smoothly until a spike suddenly bursts through Kagami’s chest.
“Kagami!” Tobirama exclaims, carefully freeing the young Uchiha and laying him on the ground. “Kagami can you hear me!?”
“R-run-!” Kagami manages to cough out before he goes limp.
“Kagami!!” Pushing more healing chakra into the wound, Tobirama fails to notice the presence behind him until someone grabs him by the hair and flings him across the clearing. Tobirama easily twists midair and lands on his feet, facing his attacker, only to go rigid in shock.
“You disappoint me Otouto.”
“No…” Tobirama mutters, clenching his fists to try and hide the trembling. There was no way Hashirama was here, no way that Hashirama had just attacked an Uchiha child, Madara had made it clear Hashirama wasn’t welcome anymore.
“You had one job,” Hashirama continues, stepping on Kagami’s unnaturally still body as he calmly approaches Tobirama, “one tiny, simple job that even someone like you couldn’t screw up, and yet you did.”
“You lied to me!” Tobirama exclaims, anger taking over as he gets ready to fight; Hashirama may be the stronger brother, but Tobirama was the smarter one.
“I merely told you what I was told,” Hashirama states, “my source must have been wrong.”
Tobirama wants to believe his anija, wants to accept that this had just been a simple misunderstanding, but he can’t. Izuna had told him too many instances of Hashirama using him for him to ever trust anything the Senju said. “You lied to me,” Tobirama growls, the air around them growing heavy as the water responds to him. “I won’t let it happen again.” The Water Dragon roars to life almost instantly, but it’s no match for the Wood Dragon Hashirama effortlessly creates.
“It’s so cute that you think you have a choice Otouto,” Hashirama chuckles, sending a barrage of wooden columns at Tobirama, “you are my heir; your life is mine to decide how to use.”
“I’m not your heir anymore!” Tobirama declares, summoning a quick Water Wall to block. “I am second in command of the Uchiha Clan, I owe you and the Senju nothing! Suiton: Severing Wave!” The stream of water easily cuts through second barrage of wooden columns headed his way, but it doesn’t even dent his brother’s Hobi.
“You may have been born a Senju, but I’ll make sure you die an Uchiha!” Hashirama finally moves, lunging at Tobirama, a sword headed straight for his neck.
Tobirama manages to dodge the blade, only for a tree root to pierce his shoulder. He was at a huge disadvantage fighting Hashirama in the middle of a fucking forest without a water source readily available. Using his own sword to cut back the wood, Tobirama jumps back, wanting to draw Hashirama further from Kagami, only to cry out in pain something clamps down on his right arm, snapping his bones clean in half. Before he can get free, a couple vines dig into his legs, immobilizing him.
“We could have avoided this Tobi,” Hashirama comments, a single hand sign coiling the vines around Tobirama’s right leg, snapping first his fibula and then his tibia. “Not going to scream? Beg me to stop?”
“Fuck you,” Tobirama growls, biting his lip to force back a scream as his femur mercilessly bored into.
Hashirama grins at the response, retracting the vines before he backhands Tobirama. The albino crashes to the ground, too battered to even try and get up as Hashirama crouches beside him. “You made me do this Otouto, remember that.”
“Go...to...hell…” Tobirama spits, smirking when the blood hits Hashirama right in the face.
“Crude,” Hashirama mutters, wiping his cheek before grabs Tobirama’s chin in a bruising grip. “Hold still for me Otouto,” the Senju coos, coating his other hand in an unfamiliar iryo ninjutsu.
Tobirama can only stare, eyes widen in shock, as Hashirama carefully removes first one, then his other eye. The last thing Tobirama sees is Hashirama’s stupid grin.
“Goodbye Tobirama,” Hashirama mutters, pressing a kunai to his brother’s throat, “perhaps now Madara will realize he should have joined me.”
“Fuck you,” Tobirama mutters, slipping into unconsciousness, barely feeling the kunai glide across his throat as a familiar inferno of chakra washes over his senses and he fades away.
“TOBIRAMA!!!”