orochimaru: the first hokage…..
hashirama: :D
orochimaru: he’s different…..
hashirama: :D
orochimaru: i can’t let my guard down even for a second…..
hashirama: :D
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@mizunokami
orochimaru: the first hokage…..
hashirama: :D
orochimaru: he’s different…..
hashirama: :D
orochimaru: i can’t let my guard down even for a second…..
hashirama: :D
Burning heart
menokami:
Seven days and Izuna was starting to develop cabin fever, even without the presence of an actual cabin. They had a shelter, but Tobirama kept crawling out of it. Even when he was sleeping, like right now.
Izuna had given thought to the return to Konoha and arrived at the conclusion that they needed to get to it soon. Especially once he started picking up signs of someone on their tail.
The wolf’s words confirmed what he already knew.
“Are you strong enough to carry him for a while?” He mustered Riko, who had been a lot less dependent on him for her survival, but refused to end the summoning due to Tobirama’s weak condition. Maybe she felt some sort of kinship that went beyond their contract for the Senju. Izuna didn’t know, but he respected the creature and her wishes.
He met her gaze with understanding.
Riko lowered her head in brief confirmation of her capabilities. But that wasn’t all. Tobirama had to eat if he wanted to heal. She pushed the halved deer towards Izuna’s feet.
“Eat. Make sure he does, too.” Her eyes went to Izuna’s own summons, the feline creatures that had her hackles rise easily with their stares from slitted pupils. Smaller than her, but more proficient in genjutsu, the cats would be an asset in trying to confuse the shinobi coming after them.
“I will escort your contractors to put up some decoys whilst you feed yourselves. The pup has to eat even if he does not want to.”
Born out of necessity, she trusted not only this one demon-eyed man with Tobirama’s life, but his hellish companions as well, offering her back for them to hold onto before she disappeared between the trees again.
Burning heart
menokami:
“Whatever,” Izuna dismissed Tobirama’s quiet gratitude and the way he was being entrusted with the Hokage’s life, this time, knowingly. It didn’t matter, Izuna’s decision had already been made when he left the village and his clan in order to risk his neck for a damned Senju; said damned Senju got no input on that.
“If you can, continue to sleep. I won’t mask the pain for you, it kept you alive when you should have bled out. I can’t move you either, so we’ll make do with this place for a while,” he continued to work as he spoke, swift hands replacing sodden bandages with fresh ones, “oh, and if you are wondering about your dog, she’ll live too. Has to stay off of those paws for at least a week.”
Sleep wasn’t exactly what had his vision fade entirely, it was the lack of blood and the shock of pain from when Izuna pulled the crusty bandage off of the gash on his chest that made Tobirama slip into unconsciousness.
Seven days they had stayed in the same place, seven days in which Tobirama rarely moved and if he did, then only with help.
Now, on the eigth day, Tobirama could sit up when Izuna offered him help and he could drink and even chew and eat his food alone, but he was far from walking on his own.
Riko had recovered faster, at least her body did. Though her white fur was still far from its former thickness, she was able to get up, walk around, and even hunt for herself. She did not speak much, but refused to disappear. Tobirama, the little white, hairless pup she and her late brother had found in the woods all these years ago, was the only thing left of their pack now that Jiro was gone. And Riko did not trust easily, although the slender Uchiha had not once made an attempt to worsen either of their conditions.
When she returned from her hunt, bringing half of the deer with her that she’d caught, she approached the man with the demon eyes first. Watchful blue eyes wandered to Tobirama who, leaned against a tree, was asleep again. He slept a lot, but that was acceptable. His body had to recover a lot after all.
“Uchiha.” She growled quietly, though her voice had lost the sharpness she would usually address him with. He had saved both of them after all, “We need to move. I can smell them closing in on us, they’re not far out.”
Her red eyes wandered back to the sleeping Tobirama. “He cannot walk.”
Burning heart
menokami:
“Your precious delegation? Probably. They sent a message while they were running to leave you behind like cowards.” Izuna was both glad and angry that no Uchiha of note had been part of said delegation. He would have tanned their hide for the cowardice of running away from a fight, just because you might die.
He wouldn’t tolerate such weakness among his blood.
Speaking of blood, Tobirama looked like he was distinctly missing too much of it right now, more wraith than man.
Izuna knelt down beside him, leaned over him to check a gash across his shoulder and collarbone.
“Worry about yourself for once, will you? You’re not as expendable as you think.”
The bandage was soaked and needed to be replaced, but Izuna had prepared for that, his hands gentle and experienced with dressing wounds.
The gentleness of Izuna’s hands came as another surprise. He would have expected a harsher approach, but here were slim hands that knew how to kill with no mercy carefully taking care of his soaked bandages to apply new ones.
Izuna of the Blade they had called him back then, for his ferocity and knack for inflicting wounds with any kind of sharp tool, wounds that took long to heal and left nasty scars. Tobirama would have had plenty of those had it not been for his brother’s talent at healing.
And here was Izuna, telling him he wasn’t expendable. Many things had changed between then and now, what had once been his nemesis had watered down to merely someone he didn’t particularly like, but Tobirama had thought their quiet animosity, at least that, would never fade.
“Thank... you.” He forced out of his mouth, his vision swimming again so he closed his eyes and stopped struggling to turn his head or move his arm. Izuna would take care of him, and it was strange that that thought didn’t frighten him anymore.
Burning heart
menokami:
The deep voice had become something familiar over years of battlefield showdowns. Sometimes, Izuna dreamed of death. His own, his brothers, his father’s demise. That voice followed him in those dreams.
Now, it sounded broken and weak and Izuna found no pleasure in it. Perhaps in his younger days, when he was truly hateful towards the Senju clan still. But time had passed since then. A village was born, Madara’s face had been carved into a mountain. The other visage there was of no importance to Izuna.
The Senju weren’t their enemies anymore, but Izuna had never made any special effort to seek their company. He was content to live in the compound where the only people he ever saw were his own clan.
It was only when Madara made him head of the clan before his departure that Izuna had to acknowledge that other clans were of relevance too. When Tobirama was made Hokage, Izuna had been ready to weather a storm of discrimination. It never came. Tobirama didn’t go out of his way, even when his old rival was the leader of the clan he despised.
That alone warranted cooperation. And this rescue.
Izuna came over to where he’d rolled the injured Senju onto a makeshift cot under a tree. He’d have to erect some sort of shelter if the weather worsened.
“Good to know you didn’t knock loose what little sense you have, Hokage-sama. You do know you’re the most important shinobi in the village, right?”
Izuna had more than just one scathing lecture at the ready.
A lecture from Uchiha Izuna was the last thing Tobirama had expected. Finding himself at his former rival’s mercy did not worry him as much as it should have. Izuna would have had ample opportunity to end his life, or to just let it end as it would have, but he decided to interfere and keep him alive.
Tobirama turned his head ever so slowly, eyes focusing on the younger man. Even in adulthood, Izuna had remained slender, not an imposing figure by stature, but all the much more through his personality. He had come to appreciate Izuna’s level-headedness in discussions with the Leaf’s clan heads, much to his surprise.
He couldn’t see him very well at the distance he was standing at, partially due to his current state of health, but also because it had been nearly a year since Hashirama had last taken care of his eyes.
“The... delegation...” Tobirama brought out, remembering his effort to cover their safe retreat. He wasn’t the most important shinobi, he was the strongest of them and if Tobirama had to run away to save his own hide, then how would have any other Leaf shinobi stand a chance against what he was running from? No, Tobirama lived by his brother’s teachings.
“Did they arrive?” He made an effort to move, but pain jolted through his body, making him groan quietly.
Burning heart
menokami:
A dying wolf and her rider. That was the sad picture which presented itself to Izuna’s eyes, here, in a blackened forest in the dead of night. Tobirama’s pale skin and bright hair were filthy with blood and dirt, his wolf companion faring no better.
That, however, was the least concern. The large beast had fallen on its side, perhaps mid-stride given the position of her legs. Her rider had been thrown and must have hit his head. The two were strewn about like a careless child had dropped them here like toys.
It would have been so easy to kill Tobirama Senju like this. No fight, no argument, nothing at all, just one quick cut would have ended the Second Hokage’s life. Some might consider that option a mercy, after looking over his wounds.
But Izuna had need of Tobirama, and his reasons for responding to the distressed message that the Hokage’s delegation had sent were practical; the Senju and Uchiha continued to work closely together, in order not to let there be a void of power in the village after Hashirama and Madara’s decision to wander the world and leash all of the tailed beasts.
Which meant the Senju had to have a head. Besides, Tobirama wasn’t a terrible Hokage; he was far more predictable than his brother, which Izuna found preferable.
And maybe, just maybe, a small part of him hoped it would eat Tobirama up inside to know he’d been rescued from certain death by an Uchiha of all people.
But spite had no place in the careful way he secured the area and saw to the wounds. First, Tobirama’s, then the wolf’s. Izuna’s own summoning partners couldn’t carry the large beast home, but they could act as splendid sentries while Izuna built a rudimentary camp. It felt familiar, all of this, even the lingering smell of blood and gore.
When he first woke, Tobirama was sure he’d reached the Pure Lands. The canopy above him was filtering the sunlight in a way that reminded him of how Hashirama and he had laid on the forest ground when they were little and his older brother had assured him that all Senju became part of the forest when they died. Tobirama had believed him back then, and given Hashirama’s connection to the forest now, if he didn’t know, then who did?
So he laid there, the warm light not stinging in his eyes for once, staring up at the leaves and branches of what Hashirama had called the Forest of Souls. Did his brother know? Would he feel it, wherever he was, that his little brother’s life had ended somewhere between the countries of Lightning and Fire?
And then the pain came. After a blissful moment of thinking it was all over, it crept through his body, winding like an angry snake that struck wherever it could. With it came realisation that he could not be dead after all. But then how was he alive? Both his and Riko’s wounds had been dire, fatal even. His brain was sluggish at figuring out the reason.
Someone must have saved him.
Tobirama stretched out his hand, trying to feel the ground with his fingertips, but his chakra reserves had barely recovered enough to feel Riko’s presence near. Good. So at least she was still alive, though she might not wish to be after the loss of her brother earlier today.
He tried to open his mouth, tried to say something to her to see if she was awake as well, but out came only a small groan.
And then his embarrassingly tiny range of sensory perception picked up on something else. Another chakra signature, one highly familiar and yet one that had his hackles rise.
“I... izu.. nah...”
Burning heart
starter for @menokami
Never would he have thought that one day the Edo Tensei would save a life. Much less his own.
But here he was, clinging to Riko’s muddy, blood-splattered fur with the last of his reserves, equally dirty and perhaps more direly injured than the nimble wolf who carried him away as fast as her paws took her.
Away from what had been a battleground for most of the day, the meeting place for the official alliance between Cloud and Leaf villages now levelled by forces well beyond a common shinobi’s understanding. Tobirama was no common shinobi, but there were limits to his powers and he had reached them today. So had the Second Raikage. The man had died doing what Tobirama had done as well, keeping those under their protection from harm, sheltered from the relentless attack of the Cloud’s own rogue special forces.
When the Leaf and Cloud shinobi attending the ceremony had made it out, Tobirama and A both had turned what remained of their strength against the Gold and Silver Brothers and the shinobi following them.
What followed had been utter destruction. What had saved his life was his own shadow clone performing the Edo Tensei, a technique that used so little chakra it simply went unnoticed in the heat of battle. The Second Raikage would surely forgive him for using him like this, but his own, former underlings’ obsession with fighting him, even reanimated as it was, was what let Tobirama get away in the end.
His vision was swimming in and out of focus, there was blood rushing in his ears and his fingertips were growing numb. His armour and clothing was hanging in filthy, torn shreds on him, he had lost a lot of blood, and there was too little chakra left in him to try and heal. Tobirama’s hope was Riko and her stamina and endurance despite her wounds.
If she did not make it, Tobirama would die with her.
senju brothers (^▽^)
Shovel Talk
sennokami:
“I think I’ve been letting you slack off too much,” Madara informed him. “You’re always running around writing letters and scribbling in your notebook that I barely see you anymore. So I decided to rectify that.”
He wrapped his arm around his neck and jerked Tobirama down to ruffle his hair. “Come out. I’m exercising Kazeshini for Izuna, I want you to do it with me. You need to fly that poor bird if yours more before it forgets it has wings.”
“It’s an owl. I fly it at night.” Tobirama replied, but not in bad spirits. Madara was probably right anyway. Though he did make sure to care properly for Yamisora, he would probably be happy for every chance to fly he got.
Madara’s good-natured intentions were much appreciated though, Tobirama pushed him playfully but followed him outside nonetheless after having slipped into some clothes.
The air outside was still cool, but the sun was rising somewhere on the horizon, painting the dark sky blue once more. He suppressed a shiver at the temperature as they left the tents behind to walk over to the bird coops.
As he had expected, Yamisora was happy to hop onto his gloved arm, eager to prove himself. When Tobirama held his hand out for him, he nibbled lovingly on his finger.
Once he’d settled everything with the bird, he glanced over to Madara. It had been some time indeed since they’d flown their birds together and somehow, Tobirama doubted it was just that what Madara was here for.
Shovel Talk
sennokami:
“I could’ve killed you at least a dozen times, you know. I don’t remember teaching you to be this lazy. Get up!”
He dumped the rest of the water on his face with a smirk.
Tobirama grunted and wiped the water away, expression souring with every moment that passed.
“... but you wouldn’t. It’s why I didn’t wake up to begin with.” He raised his hand that he kept pressed against the ground during his sleep, a technique that he’d developed following sensor advice from Madara himself.
He did get up though, looking tired, his white hair sticking up haphazardly. It took a moment until he managed to get long limbs to support him, but when he stood, he was almost Madara’s height.
“What’s the meaning of this?” The sharpness in his expression and tone slowly replaced sleepiness.
Shovel Talk
starter for @mizunokami
“Tobirama.”
It was still dark out when Madara dropped in by his tent, having casually ignored all the Senju night watchmen who’d tried to keep him out. He squatted by his bedroll and smiled benignly at his sleeping face as he uncorked his waterskin.
“Tobiraaa,” he murmured, slowly tipping the waterskin over his forehead, “Tobiramaaa. Wake up.”
Unfortunately for a shinobi, Tobirama had a healthy, deep sleep. Or unhealthy, when considering their way of life and the dangers it held.
So Madara had to bother him quite a bit, but when those first droplets of water hit his forehead, Tobirama was shocked awake. Carmine eyes wide open he stared into the darkness, only recognising Madara after a moment.
“Ugh...” He brought out, frowning, “What... what is it? Madara?”
If you hurt my brother there is a 100% chance I will come to your house and kill you.
hhh i luv tbiz…………………………….
Hashirama wants Madara:
Madara wants Hashirama:
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