Chapter Text
Tobirama had been researching hormones for the past few weeks.
Ever since his little brother Itama had presented as an omega and had gone through his first heat, his older brother was determined to find a way to alleviate his suffering.
He looked intently as he mixed extracts of plants together in a flask, the one mostly used to suppress rut in alpha's. He thought that given their close biological nature, it was a good start that could lead him somewhere.
He never had any interest in hormones before, so he was appalled when he discovered how lacking the ressources and data were concerning omega's hormones.
All the reasearch so far had been done on alphas and sometimes betas. The fact there was a rut supressor but not a heat supressor spoke volume on their social status, on how poorly omegas were viewed and treated in their society.
He sighed at the sad truth, and at the sad state of his lab, flooded by scattered, useless papers and parchments.
His lab was an old storage unit he had discreetly and cunningly changed unbeknownst to his father, who would most certainly destroy it if he were to come to know about it.
His hand stopped swirling the mixture in the flask, as he recalled the soft frustrated sobs of his brother after he had endured a week long of unbearable heat, his head resting on his laps, a comforting habit he developed when he was child.
He could hear him curse his biology and his luck, as he gently combed his binary colored hair with his fingers.
Tobirama's jaw tightened, he needed to find a way to supress the symptoms of an omega's heat. For the sake of his brother and all the omegas suffering like him. He couldn't accept this unfair affliction they were subjected to every month.
In their case, thanks to their supressor, they were simply slightly more lustful, more susceptible to omega's hormones, and overall more agressive and snappy. At least, that's the case for him.
From his unconscious observations, his elder brother, Hashirama, showed similar symptoms, aside from the aggressiveness, which was not in tune with his nature. In Hashirama's case, it made him more needy, demanding of attention and physical affection.
Goosebumps spread all over his body, as he remembered how he was forced to cuddle with him until he fell asleep. It was a direct order from his father, the tree man had been disrupting the preparations of their upcoming battle by hugging anything and everything that moved.
Tobirama had never been a big fan of physical touch, in his opinion a little went a long way, and whenever it was suitable he didn't shy from conveying his affection towards his little brother. However, his elder brother had been simply too much, often body slamming them into a hug whenever he could.
He sighed fondly, he still loved his idiotic brother, he loved them all. Deep down he was glad Itama had presented as an omega, it meant he wouldn't be sent to the battlefield like his late brother Kawarama.
He had presented as an alpha at the mere age of seven, and had been an extremely talented fighter, their father had taken it as a sign of ripeness, but it had been far too early. Hashirama and him had begged him not to send him, but he wouldn't listen. Things happened too fast on the battlefield, kunais clanged, red eyes flashed, and in the blink of an eye, their brother was gone.
He added another extract to the mix, and smelled its effect on the hormone present in the mixture.
He had feared the day Itama would meet a similar fate. He had seen how his father trained the boy as if he was promising fodder cannon.
Regardless, now that Itama was an omega he would certainly be traded in a political marriage to benefit somehow the clan, and given his father's opportunistic and cold nature, he would disregard all of Itama's personal feelings on the matter.
He would escape death and the meaningless bloodshed, but it was not a fate he wished on his little brother. He would be far from home, in the hand of an unknown alpha, answering to his every whims with the flicker of his hormones.
Bile rose in his throat at the thought, he fervously mixed more things together, taking notes of every change in Itama's hormones, which he had extracted a sample during his heat. He needed to create a hormonal regulator no matter what. His little brother deserved better, he deserved bodily autonomy, hormones and biology shouldn't coerce him in an unwanted relationship.
He added a few drops more of the purplish mixture sensing he was reaching a breaking point, the extra drops bounced in the liquid, the mixture shone and suddenly his senses were assaulted by a purplish cloud, he violently coughed it, waving his hand, dispersing his failed experiment.
He opened the window to let some air in, and plopped on the ground, groaning in frustration.
He was again met with another failure.
***
His lungs stretched comfortably in his chest as they were filled with an electrifying smell that made his skin prickle.
Fresh minty dew with a hint of sea salt, He exhaled with a wolfish smile, it was quite a nice smell for an alpha, he had to admit it.
Madara reveled in it, while dodging the easily predictable attacks of his best friend. The latter was heatedly talking about their futur village as he usually did during their friendly spar.
If it wasn't for the metalic clang, the occasional cry of battle and agony in the air, he would have almost forgotten that their clansmen were battling along side them, fighting to death.
He had always hated this meaningless bloodshed just like Hashirama did. Both of them were forced by their respective fathers to continue this nonsensical violence, a bloody feud that no one remembered the beginning, an unquenchable monster of hate that would continue its destructive path until someone stood up to it.
He loved his father, unlike Hashirama who tolerated his at most, he truly loved him, but sometimes he wanted to wrap his hands around his neck in a non so loving way. No amount of reasoning or lengthy talk were getting to him, and his little brother exacerbated the situation, undermining him each and every time he brought up the subject of peace.
He did hate this bloodshed, but when his eyes unconsciously caught sight of a certain white haired man, as though dancing through the battlefield, he almost didn't.
Almost.
He wasn't sure when it had happened, that his eyes would automatically look for the Senju man. Maybe it was because his brother, Izuna, continuously complained about the white demon- a moniker of his own invention that quickly spread like wildfire- According to him, He had always something up his sleeve, and everytime, Izuna was at his wits end, trying to figure out how to counter it, and ultimately fleeing when he couldn't. Although, his brother disdain for the man was palpable when he spoke of him, he could unmistakably hear respect mixed in it as well.
Curiousity got the best of him and next thing he knew, his eyes were glued to the man.
His nose followed shortly, instinctively pinpointing the man's smell. Alphas especially on the battlefield, smelled bitter and full of venom, yet this Senju had a neutral, almost pleasing smell to him. He had grown fond of it, though he would never admit it.
He breathed a fire jutsu at Hashirama who countered it with a wall of wood, his sharingan distractingly followed the steelthy floating white head, incapacitating all of his clansmen in its wake.
He had noticed after a while that whenever the white demon could, he prefered to incapacitate rather than kill. Indeed, He would always deal blows that would end a shinobi's life.
A ruptured Achilles' heel, a severed hand, and sometimes, in the worst cases, a swift kunai cut in the eyes. It would certainly end a shinobi's life but not a civilian's one.
This discovery had made him feel a mixture of emotions. At first, as a shinobi, he found it disgraceful and dishonourable, but now he was thankful for his mercy. As long as they were alive, they had a chance at happiness, they could be with their family and friends, shinobi's life be damned they lived and that what ultimately mattered to him.
The fight had gotten more physical, and like a rehearsed dance the two men dodged and countered the other's attack. They smiled at each other wondering who would land a blow today and win the fight. A white spot on his peripheral vision pulled him from their heated exchange, Izuna was fighting the white demon, their swords clashed, bright sparks flashed as they met.
He really wanted to fight him once, see from up close what he looked like, and what he was worth.
The man that was occupying his thoughts suddenly vanished in thin air, no hand sign beforehand, nothing. Izuna gasped, lifting his arms in the air in a dramatic way, losing his mind as though he had just witnessed witchcraft, he could hear him yell.
"What the fuck?!"
Madara stopped, wondering where the man had gone, he jumped a few feet in the air, trying to find him on the battlefield with his sharingan, then opting to use his sensors ability to cover more ground.
He landed back on the ground, coming to the realisation that the man had truly vanished entirely from the battlefield. Hashirama had also sensed the disappearance of his brother, he was familiar with the jutsu and knew he wouldn't use the hiraishin unless he had an emergency.
The two men exchanged an understanding look, ordered the end of the battle and the retreat of their clansmen.
As he left with his men, Madara could smell his friend's worry. Warm sun and maple sweet wood turning bitter
He truly hoped his brother was alright.
***
Tobirama wheezed, feeling he couldn't breath, He clenched his stomach, which terribly ached as though someone was twisting his insides, cruelly playing with them. After the pain had subsided and his breath stabilised, he could finally pay attention to his surroundings, he looked around and cursed under his breath, he had hiraishin himself in the wrong place.
No, more likely, he didn't have enough chakra to teleport to his house, so his jutsu opted to teleport him to the closest seal around, which was the border between the Uchiha and the Senju clan.
He was inside a hollow tree which he had found particularly pleasant, it allowed him to have a private space where no one would bother him, and it was at an ideal distance to spy closer on the Uchiha with his sensor abilities.
He huffed in frustration, trying to recall when the first symptoms had started.
He had felt off right after the battle had started, but brushed it off, surmising it was a simple cold or a slight fever. As a shinobi he had gone through worse so he pushed himself through it. It was his duty to minimise the casualties as much as possible, while his brother was foolishly daydreaming about peace. Gradually, the smells in the air had started to feel overwhelming, and eventually suffocating. It was then that violent shivers ran through him. his muscles spasmed uncontrollably, and his body ached and burned. As he staggered through the pain, Izuna suddenly had launched an attack at him, he could only exchange a few sword hit before he felt his chakra reserve depleting at an alarming speed.
Before, they could empty completely, he hiraishined himself, and now, here he was, even farther from home than he was on the battlefield, seized by a mysterious sickness.
He felt like his skin had been set on fire and he couldn't bare it any longer. He stripped himself bare, from armor to weapons alike. His hands only stopped at the last piece of fabric for two reasons, he felt incredibly exposed with only his fudonshi on and he noticed how hard he was.
Some men after battle did have such physiological reactions but it had never been his case. He automatically deduced from the symptoms that he must have been poisoned by an Uchiha. It all made sense why he was in such a state, it was a poison with an aphrodisiac effect.
He cursed at them under his breath and shuffled through his belongings, he had a scroll with a variety of antidotes sealed in it, he didn't recognize the poison but surely he could find something that would alleviate his symptoms. As he was about to reach the right scroll, his hand froze, hovering over it. He had finally sensed the man standing at the entrance of the hollow tree, and he knew exactly to whom this chakra belonged to.
Tobirama had the tendency to identify people by their chakra signature rather than their smell, hence his lack of interest in hormones. He was more comfortable doing so, and he couldn't mistake this overwhelming and blazing chakra which, at present, spiked in a confusing way.
He lifted his eyes, red eyes meeting crimson sharingans. He looked down immediately. An instilled reflex every Senju had.
He had never talked to the man before, though he felt more than once his eyes on him, it never failed to make him shiver.
He knew little about the man, and his sources were unreliable. The first was his brother-or what his brother thought he knew about him- and the second, rumors. His brother swore that the man shared his views on peace and was a good man who would sign a peace treaty as soon as they both could, but knowing his brother's overtly friendly and trustful nature, he couldn't take his words for it.
As for the rumors, the Uchiha was notoriously known for his fiery and ruthless nature that forced respect and order all around him. In power, he was almost equal to his brother, he was not called the "calamity" for no reason.
Taking into account all this information, his dazzed mind came to a final conclusion : He did not trust the man, he needed to run away.
The situation he was in was dire to say the least. The poison was still preventing him from malaxing chakra, therefore he couldn't hiraishin, or move, he was completely at his mercy. He needed to think but the cogs of his mind wouldn't budge, a fog preventing him from forming any rational thoughts.
" You..." Madara started "...are an omega..?"