Not a Man of Honor

by Sasha292

Summary:

He was standing by the river when Madara arrived. Hashirama didn’t turn to look, but Madara knew he’d felt his presence. And yet, there was no acknowledgment—no word, no glance. That alone told him something was deeply wrong.

The silence broke with Hashirama’s voice. “You know,” he said, low, “I’ve never been a good brother.”

Madara didn’t answer, but something in his stance shifted.

“I don’t think I ever will be,” Hashirama continued. “I’m a clan leader. A Mokuton user. And now… Hokage. I can’t put my Otōto first. It’s always the greater good before him.”

His voice was rough. Resigned.
“I can’t change that.”

Chapter 1

The Nara Forest had once been a place where you had to tread with care. You never knew what lurked in the shadows—what clan might strike first, or whether a wild animal was stalking you.
That time had long passed. Now, this part of the forest was open to villagers, a place to walk and spend a peaceful day. You still had to be cautious—forests don’t forget their nature—but it was no longer a place where you expected an ambush. It was beautiful.

It had always been beautiful to Hashirama, even when it was enemy territory. Maybe it was his Mokuton. Or maybe it was just him—he always felt calm here. And perhaps that’s why he had chosen this place for the conversation. To help him stay calm.

He was standing by the river when Madara arrived. Hashirama didn’t turn to look, but Madara knew he’d felt his presence. And yet, there was no acknowledgment—no word, no glance.
That alone told him something was deeply wrong.

The silence broke with Hashirama’s voice. “You know,” he said, low, “I’ve never been a good brother.”
Madara didn’t answer, but something in his stance shifted.

“I don’t think I ever will be,” Hashirama continued. “I’m a clan leader. A Mokuton user. And now… Hokage. I can’t put my Otōto first. It’s always the greater good before him."

His voice was rough. Resigned.

“I can’t change that.”

He stared at the stream. Took a breath.

“There were so many times I sent Tobirama on missions he shouldn’t have returned from. The odds were too low. The risk too high.” His voice wavered—but only for a second. “But I sent him anyway. Because he was the best we had. And even if it shattered my heart… there was no other choice.”
He turned to Madara then, eyes meeting his with quiet intensity.
“You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

Madara didn’t reply. But he listened. Closely. Whatever this was, Hashirama was trying to explain something that mattered.

“I’ve never been able to put him above the clan. Or the mission. Or the village. I just… can’t.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again, gaze sharp and steady.
“That’s the cost of being a clan head. A leader. And now, as Hokage, the weight is heavier. It’s not just the clan anymore—it’s the whole village. Families. Children. Lives.”

“My choices ripple out. They touch lives I’ll never even meet. One mistake could destroy everything we’ve built.”

Hashirama looked at Madara as if willing him to understand.

“I can’t shield Tobirama from the burdens of duty. But I can protect him in the ways that remain to me. I can send him with backup. I can train him well. I can hand him a cup of tea when I know he hasn’t slept.” He smiled faintly, a memory flickering across his face. But it faded quickly. “I can check his wounds. I can watch over him from where I stand. And I can make sure that anyone who harms him—clan or not—is stopped. And judged. According to Konoha’s law.”

He paused, voice quiet.

“I can't protect him as his older brother. But I can as a Hokage. Do you understand me?”

Madara held his gaze for a long moment. Then, slowly: “No. I don’t.” His voice was hoarse. “But I think something happened to Tobirama. While you two were in the Daimyō’s lands.”

A beat.

“Yes,” Hashirama said softly. “Something did.”

Madara’s eyes narrowed. “Was it another village? An ambush?”

Silence.

“Hashirama—was it someone from Konoha?”

Hashirama hesitated. “Do you know why I’m telling you this?”

Madara’s voice sharpened. “Was it someone from the village?”

Hashirama looked like he didn’t want to go on. But he did. Firmer now. “I asked you for peace, Madara. More than once. I begged you to listen. But you kept following your brother’s counsel. You chose to be a good brother first, before being a good leader.” His expression hardened. “That choice nearly got Izuna killed, remember? If I hadn’t treated his wounds in time, he would’ve died. He didn’t want my help. He refused it—because he hated peace.”

Madara’s jaw clenched.

“You never cared what the clan needed. Or feared. I’m not saying this to accuse you. I’m telling the truth. Because our friendship deserves that.”

“I chose to be a good brother,” Madara said, in a mirror of Hashirama’s tone. “It’s not my fault you didn’t."

He knew it was a low blow. He knew how deeply Hashirama loved Tobirama—even if he never understood why. Tobirama is a bastard. But Hashirama adored him. Still, Madara didn’t like where this was heading.

Hashirama flinched, but didn’t respond right away. The silence between them grew dense. Cold, like the forest. “You’re right,” Hashirama finally said. “Our priorities were different. But they’ve changed. Just look around.”

He gestured at the forest, the calm that surrounded them. “We’re standing in the Nara woods, alone. No armor. No weapons. No fear. That isn’t a miracle. That’s something we built. With pain. With change.” He smiled—genuine, proud. A peace earned, not given.

Madara allowed himself a small smile. He was proud, too. There was still much to be done, but this—this was a beginning. But he wasn’t naïve. “What are you trying to say, Hashirama?”

The smile vanished. Hashirama looked tired now. Defeated. He spoke softly. “When I was a child… after my brothers died and we were discovered … my father sent me away to train. I was gone for months.” He closed his eyes, remembering. “I don’t know everything that happened in that time. But when I came back, Tobirama… he wasn’t the same.”

His voice slowed. “Our father turned him into a weapon. A perfect, obedient tool. During the day, Tobirama followed every order. He fought like a machine. He was the perfect son, for a man who only valued survival and war.”

Madara’s expression faltered—just barely. He knew what Hashirama had endured. He had simply never thought about Tobirama. But the things he did know about the man made him wonder… made him worry about what exactly their father had been so proud of in what he had turned Tobirama into.
Tobirama is an asshole. But maybe… maybe he’d just been forced to become that way. No joy, no life—just the shinobi path. A man who only knew how to fight.

Hashirama hands trembled. “But at night… when everyone else was asleep… he’d come to my room. Not always. Just when he was sure no one would notice.”

Madara’s expression faltered—barely. He hadn’t imagined Tobirama like this. The White Demon. But now, the pieces clicked in uncomfortable ways.

“He’d hug me. Apologize for things he’d done. Ask me not to hate him.” Hashirama swallowed hard. “He was just a kid, Madara. And he was broken.” He struggled for breath. “I wanted to protect him. God, I did. But every time I tried—every time I spoke up—the punishments got worse. He hurt him to hurt me” He looked away. “So I stood still. And told myself: one day, I’ll build a world where he’ll never have to hurt again. Where he can be free. Just himself.”

Silence.

Then Madara asked—quietly, afraid: “What happened in the Daimyō’s lands?”

Hashirama didn’t speak. “You know your priorities have changed, right?” Madara asked. “You’re one of Konoha’s founders. A pillar—even if some still mistrust you.”

“What happened to Tobirama?"

Hashirama looked to the river. “Promise me first.”

“What?”

“Promise me you’ll be a good leader. That you’ll choose the village—just once. That tomorrow, when I do what I must… you’ll remember I stood here, asking for justice.” He turned, eyes filled with pain. “Because what’s coming—it won’t be revenge. It’ll be me, holding back. With everything I have. Because I’m a leader first, before I’m a brother. And the only reason I’m here now… is because our friendship still matters to me.”

Madara’s voice cracked. “I understand, Hashirama.”

A pause. A deep silence in the forest. The kind that makes you lean forward, bracing, because something awful is about to happen. He hadn’t expected this.

“Izuna has been raping Tobirama.”

Madara reeled back. “You’re lying—”

But Hashirama didn’t flinch. He raised one hand. Let Madara feel the truth and fury in his chakra. “No,” he said quietly.

“Izuna’s been blackmailing him since the last battle. That night, after I healed him—when peace was finally in reach—Tobirama went to him. He begged him to let you sign the treaty. And offered himself in exchange.” His voice broke. Just slightly. “Since then, Izuna has been torturing him. Again and again. Threatening to destroy the peace if Tobirama refused. He used your love for him as a weapon. Against the village. Against peace. Against my brother.”

Madara shook his head slowly. “You’re wrong. Izuna—he’s a man of honor—”

“I don’t care,” Hashirama snapped, voice trembling. “The evidence is there.”

Madara’s face was unreadable now. Silent. Hashirama looked down at his hands. They still trembled, though nothing touched them.

“On the way back from the daimyō’s lands, we were ambushed,” he said at last. His voice was quiet. Uneven. “Tobirama got caught in a genjutsu. It confused him. And in it… he thought I was your brother.”

A pause. He breathed in slowly, holding back the storm inside him.

“Do you understand what it meant—to hold my brother in my arms, terrified, begging Izuna to stop?”
His voice cracked open as he shouted it, like he needed Madara to understand— Not just the truth. But the weight of it. “He told me everything. After.”

He took a moment to continued leaving again the killing silent “And like I said. I’ll never be able to choose my brother over this village.” His breath hitched. “But I will seek justice. Because Izuna didn’t just break Tobirama. He threatened what we’ve built. He threatened Konoha”

He inhaled again. The forest was so still, it hurt.

“You should be grateful I came to warn you.” His voice was hoarse now, low. “To give you a choice. To decide what kind of leader you want to be. Because make no mistake— I will protect Konoha against everything.” This was the voice of the Hokage. The God of Shinobi.

His voice was calm. And furious. “I won’t judge your decision. I just want you to understand what peace has cost—before you throw it all away for someone like your brother.”

“You don’t have the right—”

“I do.” Hashirama’s voice was quiet. Cold. “Do you think I’m not holding myself back right now? My brother has been abused for over a year. And I did nothing. I looked away. Just like I did before.”

“Izuna couldn’t—”

“But he did,” Hashirama said. “And he’s still doing it.” He stepped back. “I’m not asking you to stop being a brother. I’m asking you to carry the weight I’ve borne for years. To choose your people over your blood. Just once.”

He turned away. “I won’t judge whatever decision you make. But I hope you understand mine.”

A pause.
“I’ll return for him in the morning.”

After he left, Madara stayed alone in the dark.
And the forest was quiet.
Once more.

Notes:

Hola! 🫶 I really hope you liked this chapter.

It’s my first time writing a fanfic in English, so this means a lot to me 🥹💌

Thank you so much for reading — and if you felt something while reading it. I’m already happy

Feel free to leave a comment, it would mean the world! 🌸

Chapter 2

Notes:

In the next few chapters, we’ll go back to see how everything began, before Hashirama’s conversation with Madara.

I hope you enjoy it! 🌸

They are just leaving the Daimyo’s lands. There has been a meeting between the Hokage and the Lord to reach an agreement about the protection of the Fire Nation. If someone asks Hashirama, he will say it was boring, but it was important, so he couldn’t just skip it.
Besides, Tobirama came too.

His brother liked those kinds of events — the ones where you had to be the smartest person in the room to survive. A cat-and-mouse game. Tobirama had always excelled in those settings — always sharp, always two steps ahead, as if he had built the game everyone else was trying to play.
But this time… there had been something different. His words were just as precise, his posture perfect, yet something in his eyes seemed distant. Like his body was present, but his mind was somewhere else. Hashirama couldn’t quite place it. Still, he was impeccable. Of course he was. He was Tobirama. But for the first time, it felt like he was fighting just to stay in the conversation.

Hashirama was worried about him. And he missed him. It had been a long time since they’d truly spent time alone. Yes, they saw each other every day, but it was always for work, responsibilities, family dinners, or official matters. He missed the quiet moments with just his brother. And on this trip, they finally had a moment to be together alone. Or, well… not so alone.

Now that he was Hokage, he always had an escort. Even if it felt unnecessary he didn’t need protection. But Tobirama and Madara had both insisted it looked better for the village if the Hokage was guarded at all times.Hashirama had agreed, even if he hadn’t wanted to.

Still, this little time they had together it felt good. Even if Tobirama refused to stop being a shinobi for a second. Even if he wouldn’t relax, wouldn’t drop the mission mindset and just be. Hashirama still enjoyed having him near.

Which reminded him — he was bored. And when Hashirama was bored, he did what he did best: he bothered his little brother.

“Tobirama!” Hashirama called out, voice full of mock authority.

Tobirama was behind him, guarding, as always. Ever watchful. Ever alert. Hashirama wouldn’t ask for better protection. He trusted him with everything. Tobirama moved to his side — quiet, sharp, ready for whatever the Hokage might need.

“Yes, Anija,” he answered flatly, all business.

That wouldn’t do. Hashirama slung an arm around his shoulders. Tobirama tensed — just for a second. Hashirama noticed, but let it go. He was probably tired. Nothing was wrong.

“Tobirama,” he said again, more playfully. “Relax. That’s an order from your Hokage.”

Tobirama narrowed his eyes. He knew this wasn’t the Hokage talking — just his idiot brother.

“No."

“Tobirama!” Hashirama whined, loud enough that one of the escorts turned to look. “That wasn’t a suggestion! That was a direct order!”

“Be quiet, older brother. Stop playing around. We’re outside the village.”

“Tobirama,” Hashirama insisted, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He knew Tobirama hated it when he repeated his name like that. “Are you refusing a direct order from the Hokage?” he teased.

“I refuse,” Tobirama replied with a straight face.

“You wound me!” Hashirama gasped, clutching his chest in mock pain. “And me, who thought I could count on anything. You betrayed me.”

“Stop being dramatic. And stop playing.”

“Oh, come on!” He pouted. “Think of it like a mission!”

Tobirama raised an eyebrow. “A mission? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Yes! A very important one,” he interrupted. “Spending time with your amazing and handsome older brother.” The grin widened.

“No,” Tobirama said, voice flat — but a small smile threatened to appear at the corner of his mouth. Hashirama took that as a win.

He was glad. Lately, he’d been noticing something wasn’t right. There had been changes in his brother. Subtle things. He was quieter. More distant. As if something weighed on him.
Hashirama didn’t want to push. He knew Tobirama well. If he didn’t want to talk, he wouldn’t. But still… he wished his brother would come to him if something was wrong.

He missed the old days — just the two of them against the world. Now everything was different.

They didn’t go fishing.
They didn’t sit by the fire and eat dinner anymore.
Tobirama didn’t even live with him now.

He had moved out when the village was founded. He said it was closer to work, said it set a good example — that even he could live outside the Senju compound and be safe. That Hashirama and Mito deserved privacy. Hashirama had hated that reason.

The house was big. It had been built so Tobirama could have space of his own and still live with them. Everyone had their own wing to have that privacy if you didn’t want to be bothered. But he didn’t argue. If Tobirama wanted to live alone, he wouldn’t forbid it.

Still… he didn’t believe Tobirama had truly wanted to go.

“Tobirama, why must you be so mean to your handsome, wonderful older brother?” he pouted.

“Be quiet, Hashirama. What are you—”

And then something changed. The peaceful road home turned cold. Something shifted. When you’ve lived your entire life at war, you know when something’s wrong. Tobirama was already moving. So was the escort. Everyone felt it.

Then ambush. Five masked shinobi appeared ahead of them. No village insignia. That meant one thing: they were meant to do something their village couldn’t take credit for. Tobirama barked orders. Two escorts moved to guard Hashirama. The rest engaged the attackers. A sixth ninja appeared. Tobirama went straight for him.

“Protect the Hokage!” he shouted, already clashing with the enemy.

It was a fierce fight. The enemy was skilled — but not enough to be a true threat. Hashirama barely needed to move, just dodged stray kunai. Soon, the masked attackers were either dead or fleeing.

But something was wrong.

“Where’s Tobirama?” Hashirama asked Sakae Nara, second-in-command under Tobirama and Madara.

“We don’t know, Hokage-sama. He went southeast after the sixth shinobi. I’ll organize a search party—”

“No. I’ll go. You stay here and secure the area.”

“Hokage-sama, I’m sorry. But our mission is to protect you. We can’t let you leave alone.”

“I don’t care. I’m going.”

The woman sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Too problematic…” She took a breath and looked him in the eye. “Fine. But you’re going with a team. Don’t argue. I know he’s your brother, but you’re the Hokage. You can’t just run into danger, that’s our job. And Tobirama-sama’s.”

Hashirama sighed. She had a point. Things are different now. “Fine. You, and one more. We leave now.”

“Yes, sir. Kanye, with me. We’re going to find Tobirama-sama. Haiku, secure the perimeter.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

They ran deeper into the forest. Hashirama couldn’t explain it, but something felt wrong. Tobirama never took a battle that far.

Minutes passed. Then they found the battlefield. Destroyed. Trees cut in half by his brother’s jutsus. Mud scorched. Kunai scattered everywhere. Signs of water jutsu, but no sign of Tobirama. It didn’t make sense. He had seen the sixth ninja. He wasn’t that strong.

“I found the sixth ninja. He’s still alive — barely!” Sakae called. Hashirama approached. The man was in bad shape. Far worse than anything Tobirama would usually do to a standard shinobi. This wasn’t precision. This wasn’t like his brother.

“There’s a trail deeper into the woods,” Akane said. “I’ll check it out—”

“No. I will,” Hashirama interrupted. “You stay and find out what happened here. I’m going after my brother. That’s final.”

Sakae looked at him, sighed. “Too problematic… Fine. But don’t go too far. I’ll send Akane for backup and follow you once they arrive.”

“Understood.”

He ran. He needed to find his brother. Something was wrong. The battle didn’t make sense. The violence didn’t feel like Tobirama. He pushed deeper into the woods.

And that’s where he found him.

Kneeling. Not injured. Just… terrified. And that scared Hashirama more than anything else.

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

The next one will be from Tobirama’s perspective. Things are about to get even more emotional.

If you’re enjoying the story so far, feel free to leave a comment. I would appreciate it 💖

Love you all! 🌸

Chapter 3

Notes:

Hola! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Just a small heads-up: it contains emotionally intense content and some disturbing themes.

Please take care while reading and enjoy. 🌸

He doesn't understand where he is.

Is it a gray forest? A desolate plain? A swamp?

He doesn’t know. Everything is confusion. He doesn’t know where he is, where he was going — to the village? To the office? Maybe… to Him.

Yes. That makes sense. He was going with Him.

He must be in a genjutsu. Yeah, he can focus on that. Maybe he did something wrong. He can’t remember.

He hates this. Hates when he can’t remember why he’s in the punishment place. It always makes things worse when he doesn’t remember. That’s when He makes it hurt more.

He can’t breathe. It’s too much. There's screaming. He hates screaming. When there’s screaming, there’s always death. And it’s always his fault.

Then there's silence. Is that better or worse? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to know.

“Please... I don’t know. I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Please. Izuna has to know he’s sorry — even if he doesn’t remember what he did. If Izuna put him in here, it’s because he was bad. This is punishment. He deserves it.

He hears a voice. It sounds worried. It's getting closer. It almost sounds like—

No. That doesn’t make sense. Izuna promised he wouldn’t use that again.

He’s been good. Obedient. He just doesn’t remember what he did wrong.

“Tobirama…”

No.

No. Not him. Please, not him.

He’s begging now. He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t want to see that mask. It’s not real. It’s not the real one. But he has to. It'll be worse if he doesn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice flat, eyes lowered. He’s not allowed to look.

“I don’t know what I did. I’m sorry. Please… please don’t use him. You promised you wouldn’t anymore. Please…”

His voice cracks, broken and hollow. He doesn’t care. He’s too far gone to care.

He looks up. The face is too real. Too much like Hashirama. But it’s not him. It can’t be him.

But it looks so real. And he’s afraid.

He doesn’t want another punishment wearing his brother’s face.

“Don’t… don’t wear his face,” he pleads, throat raw with desperation. “Don’t look like him. That’s not fair. You know it’s not fair. I’m sorry. I don’t remember what I did wrong. I’m sorry… but please, Master, don’t wear his face. Please…”

He’s crying now. He cries easily — that’s what Izuna says. He likes it, so he doesn’t stop.

“I’ve done everything you asked. Please. I’ll accept my punishment, but not with his face. Please…”

The false Hashirama looks frightened.

That’s not right. He looks shaken.

Something is wrong.

And if he doesn’t understand, that means Master will be crueler. He has to fix it. He has to make him happy.

“I’m obedient. A good dog. You know I am. I always am. Please… just don’t use him against me. Please, Master…”

Now the false Hashirama looks angry.

That’s better. That’s familiar. He can work with that.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did. I’m too stupid to remember. Please just set me right. I’m grateful. I’m always grateful. You let me keep the peace…”

He doesn’t know how, but the fake Hashirama is suddenly in front of him — touching him.

No. No. Not his brother.

His fake brother pulls him into an embrace and—

No. Please, not this.
“Please, Izuna-sama, please—I’m sorry—don’t use his face—please—I’m sorry—I don’t know—please stop—please, Master Izuna—please—stop—”

The embrace is strong. And it feels real. Genjutsu never feels this real.

It feels like Anija.

It feels safe.

That doesn’t make sense. Why would he feel safe?

The false Hashirama does something — and suddenly, his mind clears.

He can breathe.

The forest is green, not gray.

He can see it now — a real forest. Not a punishment place.

He feels chakra — strong, angry, burning like a storm. And he’s terrified… but at the same time, he feels safe. He remembers now. They were outside the Daimyo’s lands. On a mission. There was an ambush. He was fighting a shinobi. He used some kind of genjutsu to distort the senses.

There’s no Izuna-sama here.
This isn’t a fake Hashirama.
This is the real one.

Oh.

No, no, no.

This is not okay.

How much did he say? How much did he reveal?

Hashirama is angry. His chakra is wild and furious.

He doesn’t want to look. Doesn’t want the nightmare to become real.

But he has to. He must answer for his transgressions.

But he’s too tired.

The warmth of that chakra presses against him, grounding him.

He looks up. And Hashirama looks—

Scared?

That doesn’t make sense. Why would he be scared?

“…Anija,” he says, barely audible.

And then his brother speaks.

“It’s okay, Tobirama. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Your Anija has you.”

And it feels like the truth, even if none of it makes sense. He lets go. And the darkness comes to take him.

Notes:

This part of the story means a lot to me, and I tried to write it with all the care and weight it deserves.

Hope you enjoy 🌸 Love you all 💖

Chapter 4

Notes:

This chapter now focuses on Hashirama’s point of view, following the last chapter. Enjoy! 🌸

He’s scared. Something is wrong. Tobirama is wrong.

He mumbles something.

“Please… I don’t know… I’m sorry,” he said.

He understands now — a genjutsu, probably. But Tobirama is good at avoiding getting caught in them, and if he get caught he could stop it. Something is wrong. And he doesn’t like how he’s reacting.

His chest tightens. A cold knot settles low in his stomach.

He needs to get closer, to pull him out. But he has to be careful. Whatever genjutsu he’s in… he’s reacting badly. Too badly.

The ninja who cast it is nearly dead. If Tobirama attacks him under the genjutsu, he might have to fight back. And he doesn’t want to hurt his little brother.

“Tobirama,” he says softly, cautiously.

Tobirama doesn’t look at him.

He stops. It’s like the air thins. Like something breaks.

One second, Tobirama was quiet and still… Then he flinches at his voice. He starts moving. Trembling. He still doesn’t look at him — but he’s shaking.

Something creeps under his skin. It’s not just fear anymore — it’s dread.

What kind of genjutsu could do this to Tobirama?

He moves, trying to see his face. But Tobirama won’t lift his head. Like he doesn’t want to see him.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

He sounds so broken. Like he’s expecting punishment. And that makes his heart break.

It’s been years since he last saw his brother like this but even now, he looks worse. Could this genjutsu have put him in a memory with their father?

“I don’t know what I did. I’m sorry. Please… Please don’t use him. You promised you wouldn’t anymore. Please…”

His voice is even more shattered than before.

Tobirama… What’s going on?

What promise?

His pulse is racing. Fingers twitching.
This isn’t okay. He needs to break this now. He needs to get closer.

Tobirama looks up. He’s crying. He looks so lost.

And something inside him cracks open.
He thought there was nothing left in him that could break.
Until Tobirama speaks.

“Don’t… don’t wear his face,” he pleads, throat raw with desperation. “Don’t look like him. That’s not fair. You know it’s not fair. I’m sorry. I don’t remember what I did wrong. I’m sorry… But please, Master… don’t wear his face. Please…”

He can’t move.

Master.

The word freezes him.
His heart stumbles.
Bile rises in his throat.

What is Tobirama seeing?

“I’m obedient. A good dog. You know I am. I always am.
Please… just don’t use him against me. Please, Master…”

Dog.

His breath leaves him like a punch to the gut.

This isn’t a vision of their father.
This is something else.

The genjutsu didn’t cause this. It just unleashed it.

How could Tobirama call himself that?

Who hurt his little brother?

How hadn’t he realized?

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did. I’m too stupid to remember. Please just set me right. I’m grateful. I’m always grateful. You let me keep the peace…”

No.

Who did this to Tobirama?

Peace.

He doesn’t like that word.
Not from Tobirama.

It could mean Ma—

No.
No.
No, no.

He needs to get him out now.

Tobirama is crying too much — he doesn’t even see him getting closer.

He hugs him.

He’s trembling too.

He needs him to stop. He needs the genjutsu to end.
He needs answers.
He needs to know — what is Tobirama seeing?

Who made him call himself stupid? A dog?

Who made him sound like that?

The moment he hugs him, Tobirama panics.

And then he hears it:

“Please, Izuna-sama, please — I’m sorry — don’t use his face — please —
I’m sorry — I don’t know — please stop —Please, Master Izuna — please — stop—”

Izuna-sama.

Master Izuna.

You let me keep the peace.

Don’t use his face.

He means his face.

His blood runs cold.

Tobirama never gets caught in genjutsu. But if they’ve been using them constantly…

It would’ve gotten easier every time.

No.

No.

No.

It can’t be.

Tobirama is still crying. Still calling for Izuna. Begging his Master not to hurt him. Not to wear his face.

What did Izuna do to him?

He hugs him tighter.

Tobirama freezes for a second — and he uses that second to send chakra into him, dispelling the genjutsu.

Tobirama calms.

For a flicker of time, it’s like he can see again. See where he is. What’s real.

Then he tenses.

He looks up.

Their eyes meet.

He looks shattered.

Izuna, he thinks, what did you do to my brother?

Tobirama looks fragile. So fragile. Like he’s waiting to be punished. Like he’s still a child, looking up at their father, expecting to be hurt. But even back then…
Even then, he never looked like this.

“Anija,” Tobirama says, voice small and broken.

He pulls him closer.

“It’s okay, Tobirama. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Your Anija has you.”

Tobirama lets go.

He collapses into his arms.

He holds him tight, presses his face into his chest.
One hand between his shoulder blades. The other cradling his head.

He hugs him tighter — but without hurting him.

He will get to the bottom of this.

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you truly enjoyed these chapters focused on the Senju brothers 💖

Aaaah I did it! If I managed to upload both chapters today, I really hope you enjoyed seeing both sides of this moment.

Thank you so much for reading 🌸

Love you all! ♥️

Chapter 5

Summary:

Hola. I hope you enjoy today’s chapter. 🌸

Just a heads-up. This one is told from Hashirama’s POV, and it touches on heavy themes related to trauma and abuse.
Please read with care, and take your time if you need to.

 

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, holding his brother and trying to comprehend all of this.

He’s a shinobi.

He knows when to set his emotions aside and focus.

He just needs a moment—just one—where he can have Tobirama in his arms and feel.

But only for a second.

He takes a breath, then stands up.

He secures his brother in his arms.

Tobirama looks fragile. Tired.

He looks small—just like in those days when they were little and their father was still alive.

No 

He needs to focus.

He can’t get emotional.

Not now.

He’s going to take his brother to the village.

To his house.

No, their house.

 

And he’s going to make sure his brother is okay.

 

After that…

He’ll find out exactly what’s going on between Tobirama and Izuna.

He holds Tobirama securely in his arms and starts moving.

Sakae spots him on the road and steps into his path.

She freezes when she sees Tobirama in his arms. Her expression shifts—controlled, but not unreadable.

“Is he alright?” she asks, steady and professional, following next to him. Though concern flickers in her eyes.

“Does he need immediate medical attention?”

“No.”

Hashirama doesn’t stop moving. Sakae is next to him. 

“We’re heading straight to the village.”

“Understood. I’ll gather the team and—”

“No.” He cuts her off, calm but firm. “You could try to keep up with me, but I doubt it. There are still two days left to get to Konoha. I’ll get Tobirama to the village before sunset.”

She hesitates. Looks at Tobirama again—pale, unconscious, fragile.

“…Hashirama-sama.” Her voice is softer now. “I understand. But I can’t let you go alone like this.”

He looks at her, finally. She’s not just doing her duty—she means it. Maybe she has younger siblings, too.

“You don’t have a choice.” He speaks quietly. “I’m leaving now. Don’t waste your strength trying to follow me. You won’t be able to.”

He pauses, tightening his hold on Tobirama.

“I want everything that happened today classified. No one speaks of this—especially not about Tobirama.”

She nods without hesitation. “Count on me. The sixth shinobi is still alive. Once he’s stable, we’ll extract everything he knows about what happened to Tobirama-sama. I’ll see to it personally.” 

Hashirama feels it—loyalty. Genuine care for his brother. It eases something in him he hadn’t realized was tense. Knowing Tobirama matters to others… It means more than he can say.

“Good.” He exhales. “Make sure that man reaches Konoha alive. I’ll interrogate him myself.”

“Yes, sir.”

He’s already turning when he hears her voice again—barely above a whisper. “Too problematic…”

He doesn’t answer.

He just runs—fast, precise, silent.

The trees blur.

He doesn’t need to see them.

He can feel the path.

And with every leap, he pushes further.

He wants Tobirama in his house, in the village, so he can be safe.

But is he really safe there?

Didn’t he build the village so his brother wouldn’t have to live in fear? So he could be happy?

So he would no longer be near someone who hurt him?

And yet, right in front of him, someone has been hurting him.

And what did he do?

He looked away.

 "I don’t know what I did. I’m sorry."

So many times Tobirama looked tired. So many times he looked hurt, but he accepted his brother’s excuses—just like he did when they were children.

How many times had he wanted to check on him?

To ask if he was okay?

But he’d left it alone—because there were always more important things.

 

"Are you okay, Tobirama?"

"I'm fine. Just tired."

"You sure?"

He remembers how Tobirama tensed for a second.

"I’m fine, Anija. Don’t make a big deal."

 

He hadn’t believed him.

But if Tobirama said he was fine, then…

How many times had he seen Izuna and Tobirama working together, seen how uncomfortable his brother looked. And assumed it was just mistrust, just lingering worry about peace?

How many missions had he sent them on together, even when Tobirama asked to go alone or with someone else?

He thought it would help them build trust.

He thought they could become like him and Madara

Or at least get along.

 

"I want another mission partner."

"Tobirama, we talked about this. It’s good for you and Izuna to get along. After all, you did almost kill him." He had said it as a joke. His brother always had that kind of humor. But that time, Tobirama had looked… taken aback. Like something in him cracked. He realized it then, wanted to ask if everything was alright.

"Tobi…"

"It’s okay. You’re right. I just want someone else."

"You need to work more with the Uchiha. It’s good for the village. And you never know—you and Izuna might learn to get along."

 

"I’m obedient. A good dog. You know I am. I always am."

 

He sent them on a month-long mission together.

He sent his brother away for a month with Izuna—

With the man who made him call himself a dog.

He wants to stop.

He wants to throw up.

He hugged Tobirama tighter.

He can’t breathe.

He wants to destroy something.

He needs to—

Tobirama makes a sound beside him, and he has to stop. He’s still sleeping. But he’s holding him too tight. He’s hurting him. Again.

No. He has to calm down.

He can’t lose focus.

They still have to reach Konoha.

He breathes.

They’re close. They’ll enter through the secret passage Tobirama and Madara built in case of emergencies.

"I’m too stupid to remember. Please just set me right. I’m grateful. I’m always grateful. You let me keep the peace…"

No one but his family would ever see Tobirama like this.

To the village, Tobirama is proud, indestructible. He’s the one who made the village possible.

The one who founded the academy, who ensured children from all clans would study together. The one who made sure every clan had a place where they could have there houses.  He is the reason the village evolved so quickly. It’s only been a year, and already he’s impressed everyone.

All of that—was Tobirama’s doing.

If the Hokage is the heart then Tobriama would be the bones that give structured to the village

And he would never let them see him like this.

Because the village needs their perfect Tobirama.

Just like the village needs him as Hokage.

 

"We talked about this, Anija. It’s good for the villagers to see even us living safely outside the compound."

"I know. I just… I’m going to miss you."

"Me too. More than you know."

 

He had looked resigned. Hashirama realizes that now. But he let him go.

He keeps running.

He doesn’t stop—because if he stops for even a second, he thinks he’ll break.

He reaches the village. He manages to enter without anyone seeing them. The sun is almost gone. The lights are starting to flicker on. He makes it to the house. Enters.

Mito is there—he can feel her chakra from upstairs. He heads toward the upper floor, to the guest room where Tobirama stays.

“Hashirama? Is that you? I wasn’t expecting you this—” Mito’s face turn pale the moment she saw them. Shocked. Worried.

 She doesn’t say anything else. She just past next to them and opens the door to the guest room and let them in, then she closet it.  He feels it—how she activates the privacy seals, the chakra suppressors.

No one will know they're here. She’s brilliant.

He lays Tobirama on the bed, making sure he’s comfortable — if only for a moment.  He strokes his hair gently.

Then he starts to undress him. He needs to put him in clean clothes. He needs to check for injuries that will require medical attention

There’s a knock.

 When he opens the door, there’s a tray—medicine, bandages, towels, and a clean set of clothes. He’s sure they’re Tobirama’s.

Mito is already gone. Of course she is. She always knows exactly what to do.

He gets to work.

He removes Tobirama’s armor first, then the clothes beneath—dirty, torn, stained from the fight. And finally, he sees what he hadn’t dared to look at all this past year.

The scars of his failure.

 

Too many marks.

Old burns.

New burns.

Bruises around his arms, like he’d been tied with rope.

Faint green-yellow bruises around his ribs—faded, but still present. They look like they came from a kick.

 

It’s too much.

They’d been in the Daimyō’s lands for a week and a half.  These bruises. They’re older than that. There’s nothing new. Not even from the recent battle.

But that bruise on his ribs. He remembers it. It was already there two weeks before they left.

He had seen it.

 

“You’re hurt.”

 “It’s nothing. Just strained a bit—”

Tobirama had looked nervous.

“He’s fine,” Izuna had said, brushing past them like it was his house.

 “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry.”

Hashirama had blinked. He had wanted to say something. But—

“Don’t you and Madara have that meeting? We’ll handle it.”

 

Tobirama hadn’t said a word. He had just stood there. Still.

Please just set me right. I’m grateful. I’m always grateful. You let me keep the peace…

He wants to hurt something..

But instead, he cleans everything. Uses medical ninjutsu to scan his brother’s body. There’s no internal damage, nothing life-threatening.

It’s just exhaustion, chakra exhaustion, the aftereffects of genjutsu, overuse of his reserves during the fight with the six shinobi.

He tends to the wounds. Cleans them carefully. He tries to make sure they won’t scar. Tobirama already has too many.

He doesn’t want to think about why he let these ones scar.

Tobriama knows the iryō ninjutsu that could’ve prevented them. But someone wanted these to scar. Just like their father used to.

He continues undressing him, slowly, gently—until he reaches the underwear.

He moves it slightly, just enough to check how far the bruises go…

And that’s when he sees it.

No 

No 

No

He needs to close his eyes for a second. How could he… do this 

There in his brother skin. 

 

The Uchiha crest.

 

It wasn’t burned into him.

It had been cut.

Three curved lines. Rough at the edges.  Not clean like a surgical incision. More like someone had taken a kunai and carved it, slowly, deliberately, into the skin. The depth uneven. The pressure inconsistent. The blade must’ve dragged, again and again, deepening the wound.

It wasn’t meant to be clean.

It was meant to last.

To mark him.

To claim him.

Not with fire.

But with the intimacy of a hand pressing down.

Carving identity into a place meant to stay hidden. Only one person could have done this.

Why do people always want to leave scars on his brother?

Why is it never enough?

Izuna.

Butsuma.

Why?

There are too many bruises. Too many for Tobirama. And some of them—he knows—could’ve been healed. But they weren’t. They’d been left to set.

 To stain.

 As if someone wanted them to stay.

 As if they meant something.

 As if they were meant to be permanent.

Just like before.

He remembers it.

Clearly.

Tobirama had been ten.

 

He had come into Hashirama’s room without a sound.

A small silhouette in the dark.

Eyes wide. Wet.

One hand pressed tightly against his cheek.

“Anija…”

Hashirama had turned on the lantern—

And…, There was blood.

So much blood.

Both cheeks streaked with it.

A long line running down his chin.

The skin torn open.

Wounds still fresh. Still bleeding.

“I… I didn’t say anything,” Tobirama whispered. “I just… I said I was tired and i make a mistake. I didn’t mean to—he just—”

He’d started shaking, trying to hold it in.

 “I didn’t mean to cry. But it won’t stop.”

And no one had helped him.

Hashirama had understood, even then. He’d only been a child too, but he knew the rules of their house. When their father hurt someone, no one was allowed to interfere.

But he couldn’t just sit there.

He had pulled Tobirama in, laid him on the futon. His hands were trembling the entire time. He didn’t really know what he was doing. Just the basics. Things he’d seen the healers do once or twice.

He tried all night.

He did his best.

But the wounds were too deep.

The skin too raw.

Too much damage for a child to treat.

When morning came, the bleeding had stopped.

But the scars—three of them—were already set.

One on each cheek.

One across the chin.

They never faded.

They stayed.

They became part of him.

Like they had always been there.

 

Hashirama stares at him now.

Older. Stronger. More skilled. But still…. 

Still bearing new wounds that could’ve been healed.

Still bearing marks that made him a thing. A possession.

And again. No one helped him.

Again, someone decided he should wear the pain.

Again, someone wanted the scars to stay.

 

Why?

 

Why is it always him?

Why is it always Tobirama who ends up bleeding in the dark?

Why is he always the one left alone?

The one no one protects?

Why do they need to leave it on his skin?

As if hurting him once isn’t enough?

As if the pain has to be made permanent?

Why…?

Why does his otōto always have to carry it?

Why do people always try to extinguish his light?

Why is he always the one sacrificed?

He wants to cry.

But he won’t.

He can’t.

He has to make sure his brother is safe.

He can’t let himself think about the implications—

That Izuna might be the one who’s been doing this.

If Madara knows. 

He can’t think about everything that needs to be done.

The conversations he will have to have. 

With his brother. .

With his wife.

With Madara. 

He doesn’t want to think about the way Tobirama flinched at his face.

Or why he called himself a dog.

Or why he begged.

He doesn’t want to think about his father—

Or the living hell he made of their childhood.

Especially everything he did to Tobirama.

Or the fact that the last time Tobirama looked like this. Bleeding. Marked. Shaking. It had been the same. The exact same.

Same silence.

Same shame.

Same eyes.

He doesn’t want to think about how much he’s failed. About how he broke his promise.

To make a village where Tobirama wouldn’t have to hide his injuries.

Where he could be happy.

Where he could live without fear.

 “Please, Izuna-sama, please—I’m sorry—don’t use his face—please—I’m sorry—I don’t know—please stop—please, Master Izuna—please—stop—”

No. No, he won’t think about that.

Not now.

Right now, the only thing he wants is to get in bed. To hold his brother like he used to. Like when they were little.

When the only safe place was his room. The only place their father never entered.

So he does. He puts Tobirama in clean clothes, heals the injuries he can and then. 

He lays beside him.

Pulls Tobirama into his arms.

Holds him close.

And promises.  No more monsters will touch him. Not ever again.

Notes:

Ufff hope you enjoyed.

Now get ready, because next up is a conversation between Hashirama and Tobirama, and the truth is finally coming to light. ✨️

Thank you so much for reading. I hope this chapter resonated with you as deeply as it did with me while writing it.

I’d love to read your comments. They truly mean a lot. 🌸

Love u