Hi! Just checked out the link to your AO3 in your pinned post and it goes to your old alias, I think, it might need updating. Cheers! c:
Hey anon! You're right, I forgot to update my pinned post when I changed my AO3 handle. I've actually changed it back and have also de-anoned my fic again, so they're back up on my profile :)
Take 2 🎬 on 30. harsh whisper & TobiIzu (and their cat son 🐱) for @almostalldishes 💖🎉
CW: N/A.
"Anija," Tobirama interrupts impatiently. "Please, just get to the point. What are you actually requesting?"
Hashirama gives him a trodden-upon look but bravely marches on.
"Madara and I request that the council consider a political marriage between the Senju and the Uchiha."
"Ugh," Izuna says.
Tobirama appears to agree with the sentiment.
"We already discussed a marriage during the treaty negotiations. It was unanimously declined."
"It was decided that there were no suitable partners for Madara and I, but now that we have been living alongside each other for a few months—"
"And what about the Uzumaki?" Tobirama snaps. "Don't be hasty just because no-one's killed each other yet, Anija! We have no need—"
"Yet?" Izuna says coolly. "Do you know something we don't, Honourable Councilman Tobirama-san?"
"—for a marriage. Kindly shut up when I am defending your interests, Honourable Councilman Izuna-san."
"Gentlemen!" Hashirama exclaims before blades can be drawn. "Kindly shut up the both of you. Madara and I are clan head, for one, and each vote yes to discussing marriage again. Please cast your votes."
"You can't—"
"We are voting to discuss the prospect with our clans. That is all. Majority vote wins."
"And if we come to a stalemate?"
"Then we will discuss further."
"You're hiding something," Izuna accuses, petting the faintly purring cat on his lap. "Just who will be participating in this marriage? Hmm, Madara?"
"That has yet to be decided," Hashirama says evenly. "We haven't gotten permission from the council to discuss the matter. If the remaining Honourable Councilmen would please consider their stances and cast their votes, we can proceed."
Izuna and Tobirama share a sour, deeply aggrieved look. They each manually scoot their chairs around and lean in close, harsh whispers drifting back across the admittedly wide table. Madara and Hashirama glance bleakly at one another and exchange a series of subtle gestures. The remaining Honourable Councilmen shuffle their chairs around again and drag them noisily up to the table.
"The council has spoken," Tobirama announces gravely. Izuna nods with finality. "We decline and overrule this sham vote, and move to discipline the Honourable Councilmen who tried to intimidate fellow Honourable Councilmen into agreement."
Hashirama sighs.
"A council needs three people to be valid in Konoha," Madara retorts sourly, "and we ARE the council!"
Tobirama holds out his hand to the ragged, snoring, stinking feral cat snoozing on Izuna's lap. One gently nibbled upon ear twitches.
"We form the anti-corruption sub-council for the promotion of inter-clan co-operation."
"And whose clan does this cat represent?" Hashirama asks politely. "Mr. Socks, is it?"
"He's a neutral party, affiliated only with Konoha."
"He shits in my garden," Madara snaps. "He's with the Uchiha and as the Uchiha cl—"
"And what qualifications does Mr. Socks have? To be clear, considering he's on the anti-corruption sub-council for the promotion of inter-clan co-operation."
"Mr. Socks is an accomplished spy," Izuna brags, "with years of experience. He can wield several blades and has decent luck with an axe and ninja wire. He's also dabbled in biological warfare. Honourable Councilman Tobirama-san and I think he makes a well-rounded addition to the anti-corruption sub-council for the promotion of inter-clan co-operation."
"Biological warfare?" Hashirama presses delicately. "Would that have anything to do with the reason you haven't bathed him despite one or two... or ten.. complaints from the public and administration staff?"
"I'll just strip you of your mokuton to make you more socially palatable, shall I? Are we courtiers or shinobi?" He scoffs and looks to Tobirama. Tobirama nods silently in agreement.
"Fine, the vote to discuss marriage was overruled—"
"Overruled? That cat can't vote!" Madara exclaims. "We're at a deadlock. What objections do you have to discussing marriage? This would benefit our clans greatly."
"Benefit us greatly? Pah! Who's infatuated you?"
"It hasn't been decided who would marry," Hashirama interrupts neatly. "Either or both of you might consider marrying, in fact."
Silence. The remaining Honourable Councilmen share a dubious look.
"Us, marrying? Each other?"
Madara perks up in alarm. "That's not what—"
"Perhaps," Hashirama says. "But the vote was overruled, so we should turn our attention to other matters."
"The vote was overruled because you refused to give us pertinent information. Honourable Councilman Tobirama-san—"
"Fine."
"I request that the anti-corruption sub-council for the promotion of inter-clan co-operation reconsider overruling the marriage vote," Izuna announces.
"Request denied," Mr. Socks intones without opening his eyes.
"He's not really qualified to be here, truth be told," Izuna says at length. "Shall we vote for the disbarment of Honourable Councilman Mr. Socks?"
"You can't kick him from the council just because he voted against your interests," Tobirama snaps. "And we are over our allocated hours – meeting adjourned! Izuna, you have documents to sign in my office!"
"That went well," Hashirama says dourly when they are alone. "Now what?"
"Now what? Did you perhaps fail to notice how they considered it?" Madara yells. "My own brother! Marrying a Senju! Senju Tobirama!"
"That was the point, wasn't it?" Hashirama asks, wide-eyed. "To offer them marriage?"
Madara's mouth flaps silently. He thunks his head on the table. Why is everyone an idiot except me!
Sidles in. First off your new profile layout is sending me, it is amazing.
For the prompt I'd like to ask for madatobi or tobiizu and 30. harsh whisper. Thank you! 🙏💕
Hehehe, thank you!! 😏💦
Feeling ghoulish and incomprehensible tonight 🤡 So this got away from me and I had too many thots. No worries if this isn't to your tastes, let me know and I'm happy to re-do the prompt 🌻
Pairing: TobiIzu (adjacent)
CW: Canon major character deaths. Blood and injury. Autopsy description.
You are the first sacrifice. This cannot be undone.
Tobirama reads the warning, considers it, and corrects the flaking characters for the next unfortunate shinobi who comes looking for ways to communicate with the dead. He is nineteen and tired, and the Uzumaki library comes with many warnings.
He ignores them all.
*
Hashirama's hand leaps for the sword above his futon.
"It's me," Tobirama whispers raggedly.
"Tobirama? What is it?"
"Let me sleep here tonight."
"You didn't have to crouch there so menacingly," Hashirama mumbles, rolling over to make room. "Just get in next time."
Tobirama creeps under the covers, eyes locked on the cracked garden door. The spirit doesn't dare cross the threshold.
"What is it?" Hashirama asks into the pillow. "Are you having nightmares again? Did you try that senjutsu exercise I suggested?"
"Go to sleep, Anija."
If he ever visits the library again, he will add his findings. Senjutsu cannot be paired with the death rites. Symptoms: Unreality, paranoia.
*
Tobirama is twenty-four, sword aloft.
"Madara... you're finished."
"Wait, Tobirama."
His head snaps aside. "Why? This is our chance!"
"No-one touches him!"
He stares past his brother's shoulder, every hair standing on end. His tongue is frozen in his mouth. Hashirama's fury dissipates, and with it the shadow of Izuna's snarling face.
*
The room is secluded, quiet, clean. Harsh, inconsistent whispers threaten his experiments. Tortured souls or those he had slain? He has never been sure, the whispers falling to the back of his mind most days. A nagging dread accompanies him today as he prepares for his latest project.
The lamps flicker when he uncovers mottled grey flesh. He cleans and arranges his tools, watching the shadows writhe and contort from the corner of his eye.
A low, whining hum trembles through the silent room. Tobirama listens for long minutes, finally murmurs a courtesy prayer and makes the first incision.
The hum builds, frantic like a storm. Stiff flesh parts beneath the blade, leaking foul blood. He cuts too deep in his distraction.
"—don'ttouchhimdon't toUCH
HIM!"
Darkness floods the room. Claws tear through his shoulders like wind.
Tobirama breathes in deeply and assesses himself for injury before ducking to find the nearest lamp. The flames burn his fingertips. Finally he has light again and returns to his post, the air charged with grief.
"If you keep distracting me," he says as he retrieves the blade, "I'll only make mistakes."
"—howdareyouhowdareyouhowdareyouHOW—"
"Be quiet," he snaps, hands steady as he combs back clumped hair and picks a new blade. He had intended this to be a holistic investigation, but he may as well move on to his main goal.
Shadow fingers claw into his flesh, into his eyes. He blinks irritably and studies clouded corneas. Two eyes. Two attempts.
"—MY EYES—"
"You're both dead. What does a dead man need with his eyes? I will destroy them as soon as my research is complete. Only I will know the re—ah!"
The hum stops all at once. They stare in fascination at the blade embedded in his forearm and the shadowy fingers wrapped around the guard. Blood trickles down his wrist and pools on decaying flesh.
"Interesting," he murmurs.
The wound is closed and wrapped. Izuna's rage spirals as he returns cautiously to his investigation and diminishes instantly when he excises the first eye.
A source of energy? he wonders, but Izuna does not disappear altogether. He is silent, watchful. It is more unsettling than the blade he had wielded in death.
*
Tobirama moves his lab when he has exhausted Madara's resources, hypothesizing. Izuna finds him in the silence and berates him in a hum too distant to distinguish, intelligible only in his excitement. He amuses himself trying to injure him; sometimes he succeeds, bruisingburningcutting. Tobirama keeps a record.
He wakes often thereafter to humming silence and Izuna moving through the motions of dissecting him.
"Nothing of value was learned," he says every time, and lingers as if lost. He is formless, real only in Tobirama's memory, chakra too faint to discern. Everywhere he touches is cold.
"You're sick," the shadow offers as if prompted, chilled fingers caressing him.
*
War comes. Izuna watches the first one rise and says, "You should bring me back. I'll tell you where I'm buried."
"I destroyed your eyes."
"Find me new eyes."
Tobirama considers it in madness as he re-draws the seals, Izuna draped over his shoulders.
Symptoms: Lapses, self-isolation.
*
He lies in true darkness, exhaustion pinning every limb to the futon. A hushed voice rises above the constant whispers.
"Is it true? He was felled? The God of Shinobi?"
Tremors like laughter. Cold breath on his damp face. Closer, brushing over his ear. "Tell me. Who? Who, when my brother couldn't?"
Fingertips wipe away his tears and delve into his eye sockets. "Did he die in your arms? Are we dissecting him next?"
Tobirama turns onto his side. Izuna holds him like a lover.
"I want to see it," he croons. "Take me. You want to see it too. You're curious."
Footsteps. Tobirama focuses on Mito's distant pacing. He can almost pretend she is pregnant again and restless; soon Hashirama will wake to her absence and walk the village with her until unnatural urges are quelled.
His body aches. His head swims. There are whispers: harsh, desperate whispers that cannot fully penetrate his dreams. A door slides gently shut.
He jolts awake to mourning silence. A blank mask hangs above his bed.
"Great-uncle, are you awake?" Tsunade mumbles through the paper wall. Stubby fingers tap the wooden frame. "Uncle?"
"Come here."
His sheets are damp with sweat but she burrows under the heavy blanket and doesn't come out until Mito brings him a tray of tea and medicine.
"What did you do?"
Mito scarcely looks at him. Her face is grey and swollen, hair unusually loose around her shoulders. She unshutters the door to let in the cool spring air and stands staring out over the usually exuberant garden. The flowers had wilted in the night.
"I asked your friend not to bother us at home anymore."
*
The Hokage Tower is a lighthouse on a dark ocean. There is only the drag of his brush and his own breath as the village sleeps. A low hum, so quiet he does not even notice until it is sinking into his flesh, rises from the floor.
"Scalpels for paperwork. At least things got done in the lab."
"I'm not convinced you're him," Tobirama says in greeting. The distance had inspired new hypotheses.
"Oh?" the shadow asks sourly. Its voice had only grown stronger with Tobirama's belief.
"Why would Izuna haunt me when he could be with his brothers? You are a ghost, but you are not him."
"Do you think I have a choice?"
"There was nothing unnatural about your death."
"Other than the sword that impaled me?" Gentle fingers trace the shape of his brow. "You look so old nowadays. It hasn't been that long."
"Why are you here?"
"Perhaps you are mad with guilt. That's my preference."
"I don't feel guilty. My brother would have healed you, but you refused. You chose to die."
Izuna doesn't reply. He goes. He goes, and Tobirama's heart begins to race.
"Hello?"
His own breath. The scrape of the chair as he stands and searches the shadows of the room. The drag of his brush as he forces himself to return to work, ears trained on the festering silence. He is used to ignoring the voices that do not interest him.
*
Izuna doesn't manifest to him anymore. He throws the mask away. He moves his lab back to Madara's resting place. He exhumes Madara's corpse just to check, but finds only bones.
New ghosts come to him; known and unknown, never the ghosts he desperately wishes to speak to again. Mito wards their home, but she never asks. Misplaced loyalty. He considers leaving altogether, sleeping in his lab or the Tower, but the war soon takes him from home anyway.
The forest is silent. Everything is silent. His voice filters slowly from his throat, attention focused on his final opponents.
"You must first look within and come to know yourself dispassionately."
"This is selfish," Izuna whispers in his ear. "You should live until your heart gives out. You should watch your grandchildren die. You should suffer for all the knowledge that wasn't yours to take."
An innocent life will die in my place. Do you think that's fair, so long as I suffer? We will both die here. Are you scared?
A story of being broken and picking up the pieces and mending it together. A story of another start; learning, again. And again, as many times as it takes, to remember, through memories, certain touches, and music.
24.8k, rated E, music & amnesia au, 70% hurt/comfort, 25% soft, 5% bktd smut.
(Part of TDBK Big Bang 2020. Story by me, art by @almostalldishes.)
For this year’s TodoBaku Big Bang, I collaborated with @rcngshdws, who wrote a wonderful music & amnesia AU, very hurt/comfort and soft with a little spice <3
Read (re)learn on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/25548568
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