BOY DAD

Senju Clan leader \\ not a proud dad \\ rp account

[senju-butsuma]

❝ A clan survives only through discipline.

A family survives only through sacrifice. ❞

⚔️──────────────────────────────⚔️

Senju Butsuma from Naruto · Est 2026 · Canon-compliant · AU available · Highly selective · low activity · don't bother to follow me I won't follow back · Dark themes present: war, grief, violence, trauma, torture 

also: dictatorship, war crimes, picking up protected species of plants, loud whistling, illegal possession of swords, arson, murders, assaults, using and smuggling drus, child neglect, bribery, defamation, drinking alcohol before legal age, riots, desecration of holy places, derailing trains, theft, tax evasion, loan default, child abuse, adultery, selling defective goods, identity fraud, cheating on tests, unauthorized manipulation of someone else's personal data, internet piracy, prohibited movement in foreign territory

❝ Blood dries.

Duty does not. ❞

RULES

No disrespect tolerated.

Family matters are earned, not assumed.

If you seek the Senju… you speak to him first.

BUTSUMA

Butsuma Senju is the iron backbone of the clan. A man shaped by war, hardened by loss. He raised legends, buried children, and carried the weight of war long.

**this is a senjuhashirama side account, so father can't follow anyone, sorry**

[kodamaoftheforests]

Hashirama took in a breath before he entered his fathers room, sitting in the same place he had just a few days earlier… Where his father so heartlessly slammed his head in to the same table. He was rather surprised that the table still was in one piece... the blood had fallen from his head was still there as well. Last he knew, he was told that he was going to either pay for the tatami mat or change it himself. It wasn't pleasant in there, it just wasn't. More so, as he watched his fathers face, just as he was looking at Hashirama's, though the younger Senju was not trying to interrogate him. When he was younger, he was more driven to please Butsuma, to try and make him proud... Now, he learned that due to Hashirama's views he was seen as being weak. It didn't make sense to him, but he knew that sadly, it wasn't just his father who thought that way.

Grudges and hate were so ingrained in to his father along with those of the older ages... They knew nothing of peace, but why did they push against it so much? Was it because it was unknown to them? Part of him wanted to ask his father this, but he knew better...

Sitting as he always did, Hashirama placed the scroll that had the mission report within in, nodded to Butsuma when being told to explain his mission. The way his father stood over him made him want to sigh, but he held it in, it can come out later. A thought ran through his mind, seeing bears in their backyard, even some father bears played with their cubs, but never did he ever see a bear look at him like his own father did. How was it that a male bear with cubs never saw Hashirama as a threat, yet... Butsuma did?

"The mission I believe was a success, we saved two days by the momentum in which the group was going, there was minimum involvement with the guards. They were easily distracted as I went in and gathered the items," It was the after mass he was unsure of what he was told or perhaps Butsuma already knew… in a way, he felt like he was under a test. "Hozoshi was able to silence the only guard that was left near by before he could say or do anything, so I feel he should get an increase in pay thanks to his skill sets. He really in an important member of our clan as you've always said, Chichiue."

It's how he felt since he could have easily attacked Hashirama during the mission, more so than he already did, yet, it was kept to a minimum of taunting and shoving, more like a child would act… Kyogo and Henya on the other hand... There was not anything special to announce of their mission.

Then he was asked about Tobirama. It made him tilt his head some, curious as to why he was being asked about it since he had yet to see him in days, or was it a week now...? Either way, it had been too long since he had seen his brother, but as long as he was healthy and eating, it would suffice. "I believe Tobirama is making sure they continue to be trustworthy. Have we not already done trading with them?" They had been slowly building alliance that were rather important for both clans, there were goods along with jutsus even. Hashirama knew that Butsuma was very aware that his son could easily grow food, crops, all instantly if he needed, and sometimes, when he wanted to.

"Is Tobirama not too young to wed, Chichue?" It made him panic inside, he wanted to scream at his father to keep his eyes off of him. Was Butsuma thinking of Tobirama now just the same way he looked to Hashirama… just not with all this hate he is able to clearly note. "Tobirama has too much potential, I do not think wedding him would be a good move, Chichiue… There's so much more for him to grow."

Hashirama's promise to his brother was important, he was keeping his tone down and was sitting still… Even if he had to bite his cheek to stop himself, he did, happily swallowing the blood if it would keep his brother safe. Himself in turn too, even though he was not too worried about himself at this point. Taking a hit from his father, he'd deal with, so long as those hands never touched Tobirama.

"Hmm? I provoked them?" His words fell from his lips before he could catch them this time, astounded by the accusation. The silence carried his confusion.

"... Perhaps I acted irresponsible, forgive me, but I must say, I did not expect my own clansmen to stab me before we entered the compound." There was a pause. What did they tell his father? The scroll was important, but surly they had it. Hashirama's brows found one another, a rare expression was starting to form, one that almost rivaled his father. "Since you are being so kind and lenient today, Chichiue, would you enlighten me then, how stabbing your team leader is appropriate? As for the scroll, I never had it out of my sight, I was holding it before and after the stabbing occurred. As I said before however, I would like to understand this logic. The last I was aware, the Senju would not show such callous acts towards one another." His tone was firm, the tone he inherited from none other than Butsuma himself, being as serious as his father was being towards him.

Hashirama sat still, maintain direct eye contact with the man before him. This was personal due to the fact that they were clans men, they were connected by blood. This was one of the things that Hashirama was highly against, attacking your own clans men, but then again... Butsuma told him he helped the clan by getting rid of 'tainted and weak blood' by ending his own brothers life. If this is how he was going to be treated, he felt that there would need an explanation.

[senju-butsuma]

Butsuma’s gaze scratched Hashirama from head to toe. He looked like him with that hair so much it made Butsuma’s stomach turn. It was almost perverse how much Hashirama had grown from the time an ostrich laid an egg in his bed. Back then, Hashirama was so eager to please, so eager to make his father proud. Butsuma didn’t know if he loved him more back then, or if the love was still the same. All he knew was that his contempt, obsession, jealousy, and hatred grew. However, Butsuma didn’t consider it his mistake, it was Hashirama’s. For being weak, for being soft, for being incompetent, for being a traitor, and for wanting peace. 

Peace was something Butsuma wanted too. However, he knew it couldn’t be acquired by joining the Uchiha. There was only one way: to exterminate them like a pile of ants. Bloodshed was inevitable. The Uchihas would do the same if they could. They were rabid dogs, they were cursed with hatred, and eaten away by darkness. 

Hashirama sat in the exact place Butsuma had punched him, and Butsuma couldn’t help but give him an unwelcoming glare. Hashirama. 

His son started to talk, and Butsuma listened. For a moment, he unbecame the father and became the leader. It was far more comfortable. Hashirama described his mission, something that could’ve been written on paper, but he kept on going. 

“The Sarutobi are already clear, yet your brother… continues to engage with them.” Butsuma said, his voice steady. 

“Tobirama is old enough to wed. He’s old enough to find a good woman, and have children. It might come as a surprise to you, but men like women…” Butsuma said, and one of the corners of his lips curled into a smile. Hashirama could never understand this. His heir, with the genes of the Sarutobi clan, would be perfect. Tobirama’s alliance made sense to Butsuma. 

“You’re almost too old to wed,” Butsuma said in passing. To him, it was clear. Hashirama wasn’t interested in women, and no woman would want him anyway. He was too soft, a poor apology of a man. 

When Butsuma heard about the stabbing, his expression turned suspicious. “They… stabbed you?” Butsuma asked. Suddenly, his cold face turned cold, smiling, and cunning. Kyogo didn’t mention it. 

“This is a strong accusation,” Butsuma asked, his loud voice echoing from one wall to another, and he rushed toward Hashirama, wood creaking under his feet like  the sound of war drums. His eyes, venomous on Hashirama. “Show me the proof,” Butsuma exclaimed. 

However, he didn’t wait. He whipped his hand, and gripped the left part of Hashirama’s clothes. Then, he tore them apart to examine Hashirama’s skin. His somber eyes raked over Hashirama’s bare stomach. Scarless, as if made of alabaster, with no sign of a struggle, proof of a lie. 

“Tseh…” Butsuma’s arrogant smirk spilled all over his face. He let the clothes go. “Dirty liar.” He tightened his hand into a fist and punched Hashirama’s stomach. To remind him to be quiet,  to remind him of his place. It didn’t matter that Hashirama’s skin had already healed itself. To Butsuma, the lie was clear. 

Butsuma straightened his back, towering over Hashirama like a demon of death. His shoulders seemed broader, his face screamed of contempt for his eldest son. Hashirama deserved punishment, and Butsuma would be the executioner of the punishment. Hashirama had been at his mercy. And Butsuma would never let Hashirama forget it. He’d carve the violence into his brain, and he’d make him never forget that he was nothing but his weapon. He wasn’t done yet. 

It infuriated him how strong Hashirama’s regeneration was. He needed that power for himself, for his soldiers; he needed that power to destroy the Uchiha clan, and he needed to extract it from his wretched son. 

“Your mother would be ashamed of you!” he reminded Hashirama, stabbing yet another of his weak spots, while he smiled like he won a million ryou in cards, the same rush of adrenaline pulsing through his veins. 

[kodamaoftheforests]

Since Kyogo, Henya, and Hozoshi had left Hashirama be once they entered the compound, he took just a little while… Waiting just a bit before getting near his home, the one that he shared with this father and brother… Tobirama really was one of the few reasons why he was still in the home, still enduring all that he did. The scroll that was taken from him, he knew it would be taken to Butsuma before anything. Hashirama sighed, wanting to at least see what all they had received from the mission.

Hashirama had to report to his father, he wondered if he should wash up a little, which he did. Hearing that he was dirty wasn't something he wanted to hear after a mission… So he quickly stopped by the bath to wash off and change his clothing, happily avoiding the mirror when he dried off. For known reasons, he did not bother with his hair since it did not matter now. Simply slicking it back as some stray hairs made their way back to his forehead… If only he could wear the hairstyle he had as a child… It seemed that the mushroom style was only for children, he sighed. At least he didn't feel that he would look as much as his father with it.

In a rush, Hashirama made his way to his room, getting out the supplies to write up his report, to his luck he oddly made good time on it. Perhaps it was because he was in his room once more. The only thing that was his, kind of, but then again, so was that cell.

It never left his mind now, more so when the sun set and there were only shadows. Shadows and voices of the dead that would inwardly scream, sometimes they were horsed whispers, waking him if he ever had a night where he would fall asleep without any of his herbs.

Then he heard his name.

The tone was one that made Hashirama's body entirely tense, swallowing his nerves since now he had no choice but to go towards the authoritative voice. It only grew more and more domineering over the years, increasingly so when Hashirama entered his teens. It made his body shiver with worry, every ounce of his cells were screaming, but… he had to turn in his report to his father… especially if he was in a bad mood, which seemed to be the case already.

Taking in a breath to try and prepare himself, Hashirama rolled up the scroll he was writing the report on as he walked on the engawa towards his fathers room. Bowing some when he got to those doors he knew better than anyone. "You called, Chichiue?"

[senju-butsuma]

Butsuma could tell Hashirama was home only by the way his own house smellt. It was the weird scent of sweat, of damp branches eaten away by forest fungi, and punget pine needles. Today it was lingering in the air as if Hashirama was trying to own the home. 

When his gaze met Hashirama’s face, which had sadness written all over it, as if Hashirama just lost the whole war, Butsuma’s expression became firmer. He really felt nothing but resentment toward his eldest son. 

“Hashirama.” He barked instead of a warm greeting. “I’ve heard of your mission. Sit and explain.” He said, commanding, pointing toward the place in front of a table, the same one that collided with Hashirama’s forehead just a few days ago. 

Butsuma crunched his knuckles as he watched Hashirama sit down, while he remained standing. It was better this way, having a full view of Hashirama, his movements, his motions. This way he could watch him like assassins watched their victims, carefully, without a drip of empathy. 

“Tobirama… why is he spending so much time in Sarutobi clan?” he asked Hashirama. Not because he’d specifically care for Tobirama, but because Tobirama spent too much time there lately. And Butsuma wouldn’t mind deepening their alliance. The younger brother was already useful. 

“Perhaps he could bring a Sarutobi bride here, marry her, and have heirs,” he said, his tone as if he was talking a theory of a battle strategy. He didn’t want grandchildren; he didn’t care about such lowly joys. But if Tobirama had an heir, it would add legitimacy to his becoming the chief of the Senju Clan. 

Butsuma doubted Hashirama would ever have children. No was too soft for that. He just didn’t have the guts. So, Tobirama was his only hope for his lineage to continue. Hashirama was nothing but a dead-end branch. 

He lifted his hand and put it on the root of his nose, gripping it with two fingers. He wanted to talk about something else, right… Hashirama’s mission. Kyogo, Henya, and Hozoshi had told him Hashirama tried to command them, which wasn’t an issue in Butsuma’s eyes. However, the way he let them handle him, the way he let them take the scroll. Hashirama’s kindness was his weakness. He was too soft, in the way little bear cubs were, it was no wonder that sometimes the father feasted on them. Hashirama already trembled before he even spoke; it was embarrassing.  

“Your inferiors have your scroll because you acted irresponsibly on the mission; then you provoked them. How do you expect to lead the clan if you can’t even control your men?” Butsuma said, his voice starting to rise like a wind before the storm. He had always been easy to get fiery and angry. Sometimes he made himself angry by going through thought tangents. 

“But I’m a lenient father, and I’ll hear your side of the story. Don’t waste time with excuses again.” He said in an attempt to sound cool, collected, and steady, but he was none of that. Hashirama’s presence annoyed him to no end. His chakra was obtrusive in a way that made his stomach turn. 

He could send him to his late wife whenever he wanted, but he needed Hashirama, for now. Butsuma made a few steps toward Hashirama, non-threatening, silent. The blood on a tatami mat was still there, already dried, not replaced. Butsuma kept it as a trophy, and also as a threat to anyone who dared to take his place in the clan.

[senjuhashirama]

@senjuofthesea​

[senju-butsuma]

@kodamaoftheforests @senjutsunade @toka-senju

[motherofsharingan]

”…from what I heard on both accounts, neither granddaddy is good or loving. I’m throwing hands to both of them!” Doesn’t matter if Senju or Uchiha. They’re getting what’s coming to them. Both.

[motherofsharingan]

She blinked owlishly at him before a glare settled onto her features.

“I am family, as a matter of fact! Perhaps not to you because you’re rather uncaring. I’m Hashirama’s daughter.” A small pause. She’s going to choose to ignore the last part.

[senju-butsuma]

"Hashirama would never breed an Uchiha."

He said with conviction and pride.

"You're just a bastard child from a bastard clan."

[motherofsharingan]

”..I’m not a bastard child. I’m fairly certain my parents were married prior.” Probably. Didn’t matter.

“Why so much hate, hm? You’re so set in stone in your old ways you can’t see clearly. Hashi cares about me, regardless! And I’d definitely would let a certain Senju breed me, don’t get me started.”

[senju-butsuma]

"He cares about a lot of things. For example, his bonsais. You know what I did to them? I burned them, and I was smiling."

"I might do the same to you, you cursed witch."

"Then I'll put your bones into a grinder, and I'll force your real father to eat the stupid little bread baked from the powder that came out, so he can taste his own mistakes."

[motherofsharingan]

”…from what I heard on both accounts, neither granddaddy is good or loving. I’m throwing hands to both of them!” Doesn’t matter if Senju or Uchiha. They’re getting what’s coming to them. Both.

[motherofsharingan]

She blinked owlishly at him before a glare settled onto her features.

“I am family, as a matter of fact! Perhaps not to you because you’re rather uncaring. I’m Hashirama’s daughter.” A small pause. She’s going to choose to ignore the last part.

[senju-butsuma]

"Hashirama would never breed an Uchiha."

He said with conviction and pride.

"You're just a bastard child from a bastard clan."

[motherofsharingan]

”…from what I heard on both accounts, neither granddaddy is good or loving. I’m throwing hands to both of them!” Doesn’t matter if Senju or Uchiha. They’re getting what’s coming to them. Both.

[senju-butsuma]

"Uchiha, threatening me."

"Groundbreaking."

[motherofsharingan]

“I’m only threatening you because it matters this time.” She puffed out her cheeks. “Even an animal eating it’s own cubs does a better job at parenting than you do.”

[senju-butsuma]

"This is a family matter, and you're kind of not a family."

"What do you know about parenting? Uchihas don't parent kids. They just prepare the next generation to die for their hatred."

[motherofsharingan]

”…from what I heard on both accounts, neither granddaddy is good or loving. I’m throwing hands to both of them!” Doesn’t matter if Senju or Uchiha. They’re getting what’s coming to them. Both.

[senju-butsuma]

"Uchiha, threatening me."

"Groundbreaking."

[senju-butsuma]

Please describe your relationship with your third and fourth sons.

To answer this question, first I need to say that I'm a good father, and I love all my children equally. I don't make distinctions, I raised all my sons the same way: strong, disciplined, ready to serve the clan. Kawarama and Itama are no exceptions.

I taught them to become strong shinobi, and I provided them with food and shelter. I'm a kind person and I would never leave them starving. I gave them everything I had.

After my dirty wife viciously abandoned me, abandoned us, I became the only parent who stayed with them. The only parent who loved them enough to raise them. If it wasn't for me, they'd be dead in a ditch. I carried the household alone. I did everything a father should and could do. More than most men ever could. It is not an easy job to be a single father, but I handled it beautifully.

They laid their lives down for the clan, and I will never forget their sacrifice. They were good sons: loyal, dutiful, obedient. They fullfilled their fate. I pray for their happiness in the next world, and I take pride in knowing that I made them strong enough to meet it.

[senju-butsuma]

My great-granddaughter is just like me.

[nihon-daisuki]

Lights to pray by k n u l p on Flickr.

[kodamaoftheforests]

Hashirama looked at the large bird that was now in their kitchen. What type of bird was it? Was it really a bird??? Or maybe it was some type of jutsu that went bad... Why was it's neck as long as it's legs? Were those eyelashes... and were those claws??

A bird with claws?

It was fluffy however, he thought maybe Tobirama would like to have some of the feathers...

But back to the point. "Chichiue, where... ehh, what type of bird is this?? It's really a bird?" Smaller birds tend to find their way to settle and nap on top of Hashirama's hair when he would walk through the forest, not once did he ever one like... like this though.

@senju-butsuma

[senju-butsuma]

What type of bird this was?

"It's an ostrich, Hashirama." He looked at his son, disappointed. Hashirama really didn't know anything besides the woods that surrounded them. "It's like a hen, only bigger."

"It laid an egg in your bed an hour ago. You can make yourself a tamagoyaki." He informed Hashirama.

"This bird was given to the Senju clan by a patron. I'm going to bring it to the eatery and we'll eat it. Today is your lucky day, you won't have to eat rice with ume. Are you happy?" He asked, but his tone wasn't kind.

[senju-butsuma]

My favourite song, I listen to it every time Hashirama makes me angry.

[kodamaoftheforests]

"Chichiue! You know how to use technology?!" Honestly, Hashirama was rather impressed more than anything.

[senju-butsuma]

I'm a man of many surprises.

[senjutsunade]

And of endless prejudices and biases.

[kodamaoftheforests]

Now now you two, let us drink and have some food. Everyone can agree on that, yes?

@senju-butsuma @senjutsunade

[senju-butsuma]

"It's not a prejudice if it's true."

He looked at Hashirama, disappointed. He failed as a father.

"Grow a spine, Hashirama. Before someone forces you to grow a spine."

His fist trembled. It would look nice in Hashirama's face.

[luna-azzurra]

Real thing that changed how i write: I started asking "what does this character think is wrong with them" and separately "what is actually wrong with them." Those two things are almost never the same. She thinks she's too much. She's actually terrified of being too little. He thinks he's bad at commitment. He's actually just never met someone he trusted enough. The gap between their diagnosis of themselves and the real thing, that's your character arc right there. you don't have to explain it. just write both.

[senju-butsuma]

My favourite song, I listen to it every time Hashirama makes me angry.

[kodamaoftheforests]

"Chichiue! You know how to use technology?!" Honestly, Hashirama was rather impressed more than anything.

[senju-butsuma]

I'm a man of many surprises.

[kodamaoftheforests]

The grin that was on his fathers face was one he had seen long ago, a distant memory he had forgotten until this moment. The moment Hashirama used his mokuton for the first time, it was a very similar smile, and yet, the one before him now was very different. It was distant, unfamiliar, distorted, even for Butsuma, it made Hashirama freeze in place. Perhaps that was what the elder was looking for in him, and as usual, he got what he wanted.

The tone in Butsuma's commanding voice, the chosen profanity as though he deserved those words… something in Hashirama's chest felt like it detached, something small that was so tight within him, it gave a small pain. What was this?

Hashirama's eyebrows raised to hearing who else would be joining his group, thinking it wouldn't be as bad if it was only him Kyogo and Hozoshi. When it came to Ichimoto, he did not mind his company, he was someone of few words, he couldn't blame him however, his home situation was known by most in the clan. So much so that Hashirama tried his best to outstretch his kindness to try and even out the bad he knew the other was going through… When it came to his father however… Henya was a completely different story.

One that was upsetting, disturbing in a way he could see his father simply turning his head if he didn't want to see what the other elder would do to his enemies, Butsuma never questioned Henya… Hashirama noted to stay cautious around the older man, he was not one to joke around with.

"Ah, thank you, Chichiue," Hashirama bowed to his father once his fingers left his forehead, a haunting feeling overwhelming him once the contact ceased. "I'll have my report to you soon." If he was lucky, perhaps he could keep the report under ten pages… Hearing that he didn't have the luxury made him want to pout, but he held himself, biting the inside of his lip instead as he stood to walk out the room towards the baths.

Stopping by his room frist, Hashirama got a change of clothing he could stay in if he was to leave earlier than expected for his mission. A simple grayed headband in hand as well, not wanting to see what his hair looked like, but he knew he would have to if he was to bath properly.. Plus, he needed to blend in, Hashirama was rather sure he wouldn't get noticed as him, but rather… his father. Getting mistaken for him was something he would wince at, it made him feel ill. It wasn't a complement any more... Perhaps once when he was young, but not now.

Leaving his clothing in the basket to the baths, Hashirama poured a bucket of water over himself, letting himself fully focus on the sensation. It had been three days… Even if he was just rinsing off, he was beyond grateful for it. As he reached to get the soap for his hair, his eyes widened when he found himself looking in to the mirror before him, a confused smile on his own lips before quickly looking away... his hands shaking for a moment. 'Just look at the soap, Hashirama. You need to get clean and go write your mission report…' He said inside the safety that, for the moment, was that inside his head, letting his worries run down the muddied water, a mix of soap, dirt, moss… everything that ran down his arms, letting it go, remembering those early days by the river. Cleaning his hair however, it was the first time it really hit him with the harsh treatment from his father. It wasn't that he cut his son's hair himself, yet, he did nothing about it, said nothing about it. He really was like a tree to his father wasn't he… You can prune and prune and somehow, he keeps growing back. Before he knew it, he was covered in suds, letting himself chuckle to the moment. How pathetic he felt, tears falling from his eyes as he sat in a little cloud of bubbles. Without hesitating, not being able to make any creatures with the suds this time, he rinsed the soap off, watching it swirl down the drain.

Once he was dried and dressed, he made it to his room to get out all he would need to write up his report, taking him a moment before he mixed up some ink. Normally he was able to write up his reports either the day he got back or just the next morning. It was not as though he had forgotten any details, it just felt… Off. It felt like he had been somehow given a break from just that. Here he had thought he would have to write it up in that cold cell, but at the very least, he was happy to simply be in his room, even if it was only to get some things he would need for his mission, and this report… Hashirama inhaled the scent of ceader in the room along with the tatami mats. It calmed him, this was the only place that was somehow still his.

It felt like the brush in his hand had taken over, his mind running with so much, yet, somehow the report was made in just a hour, perhaps a little more. Hashirama sighed… His futon was folded in the closet and would remain there for who knew how long, he couldn't help but look inside at it, poking it with a pout. "So lucky... at least you get to sleep on yourself…" Hashirama murmured as though he was a child again.

Gathering what Hashirama would need, he rummaged through his belongings, finding the soldier pills he had made from the last mission he was on. The herbs he grew himself, a little hidden forest of anything one would need to treat any type of issue. In this case, he shared the ones he made, having laced the herbs with his chakra, making them more potent, one could easily stay awake just ingesting a single one for 2 or even three days. So that's what Hashirama did. It tasted like the herbs and the dried shimeji mushrooms he used as a base to bind it all together. No it wasn't mushroom soup, but it was enjoyable, more so since he had yet to have a real meal in days.

Butsuma knew how much he ate, even Tobirama ate almost as much as he did. But for now, he could endure his stomach complaining to him before it so joyously started breaking down the soldier pill he had eaten.

Putting a simple light brown haori on, along with some of his older pants, Hashirama made his way back to his father's study to give him the report before he left, everything he needed was left on the engawa. The headband made him simply avoid any mirror, he looked like his father... just... a lot younger.

Once they set out, Hashirama was eager to get this mission done, so his pace was faster than normal, the pace he used when trying to keep up with his brother when they would work together. It kept his mind clear, to complete this mission, the scroll that was on his back was a smaller one of his, but it was still easier to carry than his usual larger ones. For this mission, he felt the size needed to be more discreet, just as he was to act.

After a least a full day of running, the group arriving to their location slightly earlier than planned, there was maybe an hour or so of light left, this could be used to their advantage. The carriage that held the items that the report said they were to receive, he knew his men could easily do this mission, but even so, Hashirama had him keep his eyes on the guards that surrounded the carriage. With a hand sign, he nodded to Ichimototo as he followed close to him, he would be the one that was going to keep an eye out. Hashirama clasped his hands together, materializing just one mokuton bunshin, for now, it soon running past their group a ways before they were to get closer themselves. Hashirama planned to catch the guards attention in the opposite direction, but it seemed as thought some of his prayers were answered as the men that were guarding, ran towards the distraction. A single guard was left, looking at the others before Henya hit the man on the back of his neck, the sound was that of something breaking.... Hashirama had hoped to keep the kill count low... but that was not his call when it came to either then or who ever it was they were encountering, they needed to be careful and complete this mission well. As silent as can be.

As the clones simply disappear in to the trees yet only to reappear... each time, there was another added, to try and add confusion. He ended up using only three clones that were jumping between tree to tree, slipping in to them, with the lighting, anyone would be confused at what they were witnessing... Unless it was Madara... It being a trick he used when he was younger on other missions that needed to draw attention. He was rather good at it, not that he wanted to be spotted. Clones really did come in handy...

Only moments apart, Hashirama slipped away with the others in his party, the guards returning to their original post, being more irritated than angry, brushed off as some group of teenagers that must have been just rushing by, rudely. Thankfully, Hashirama's group was able to gather the items with out much of a problem. The real problem was the three men he was with, not necessarily wanting to follow Hashirama, though when it came to the mission, they did, they had to... but that was it. Only during the mission.

The night before they arrived to their location, Hashirama did not bother resting since he could not even phantom sleeping with those three men, watching him. They shoves and used harsh words that were used towards Hashirama did not phase him however, he expected as much, just as much as he knew Ichimototo was only silent because he had to be to survive this cruel world. Him and Hashirama were in rather similar positions.

Such as when Hashirama went to cup some water from a stream as they all had stopped to gather water on their way back to the Senju enclosure. Something harshly struck the back of his head, it must have been a rock of some type since after the impact, the sound of stone to water was one he knew well. Hashirama knew how they felt about him, but for now, he didn't feel too worried about them... Just frustrated by the nature of the treatment he was receiving was rather... childish, yet it had a harshness, it was cold and by far not something he wanted to feel forever.

As he looked down to his reflection, a small bit of blood made it to his face, running down his cheek only to drip gently in to the water, his brown eyes watching the blood disappear so easily. If something were to happen to him now, he wasn't sure if he would end up drifting away one day, just as easily as blood washed off of skin. Then, he jerked when he looked to the side, there was Henya, a smirk on his lips before his hand grasped Hashirama's neck, though it was rougher, almost just as his own father did a few days earlier, his face was soon in the water. As he was being held there, he somewhat heard the man speak of something along the lines of 'helping him wash the blood off of his face' and how 'kind' it was of him to help their leader. Did Butsuma tell him about how he had grabbed his neck? Was he proud of hurting his son that much to tell others? Even to say... it was okay to treat him in such a way. At any time??

Hashirama was held down in to the water, a few times he was sure he was going to pass out, but was often given a breath before being plunged once more. After what seemed like hours, he was soon lifted some and tossed to the side, the men laughing darkly as he was sure Ichimototo was trying to pretend to be resting against a tree. It wasn't worth fighting back, so he took what his elders threw at him, more so now that it was night. The small fire they had going hardly helped his ease... They all knew his dislike for the dark, normally however, it was only if he was alone within it, with his own thoughts.

On their way back, Hashirama was sure that the elder men were up to something, the way they were being more physical with him had him on alert as he was simply trying to get back to the compound to report to his father, to give him the items that were in his item report, but all this... All he really wanted to see was Tobirama. Even if it was for a moment, just a glance... It would keep him going.

So as the compound was within eyesight, Henya motioned to Kyogo and Hozoshi, them speaking upon themselves as Hashirama motioned Ichimototo to go before them. Looking back to the group, Hashirama unhooked the scroll that was on his back to carry under his arm, not liking the glaring looks he was receiving... No he did not need to see them looking, he could feel their stares, the harmful intent...

As he worried, Hashirama felt a hit to the side, he felt his world pause, coming back only seconds later only to find that there was a tanto in his side, it clearly avoiding any organs... "Mhmm??!" It took him a moment to realize what had just really happened. The scroll he was carrying was soon scooped up by Hozoshi before, Kyogo tried his turn at taking Hashirama on it seemed. Knowing how Kyogo had felt his pride jabbed at by the Mokuton user... But to do such a thing to your own clans' men, he wasn't too sure about that. With a grunt, Hashirama hardened his arm with his mokuton if he needed to take a blow, but instead, his hand that was holding the scroll was being cut at. What were they trying to do? Cut his arm off? In a swift motion, Hashirama jumped back, wanting to get some space between them, his side already having healed at this point. "What's the meaning of this?!?" Hashirama said with disgust but still rather surprised with how they waited till they were back home? Was this planned? Or was it that they felt safe enough that they felt they could gang up on the younger Senju.

These men were truly those of his fathers, even though the mission had gone rather smooth, surly they were tired... And yet... They were attacking him. Did the solider pills he made make them more aggravated?? With his brows furring, the next attack from Kyogo, Hashirama let the sword slide through his hand before closing it to close over, holding tightly the others in his own, he was no longer a child, no longer small, and he was no longer going to simply fall on his back in horror.

Hashirama stood, watching the other, taller than him now, truly wanting to know what they were thinking. "Let's get these back to my father, then you can take your anger out on me afterwards." Hashirama said in a tone that almost rivaled Butsumas, wanting to get this mission over... It had been long enough, there was too much around him falling apart...

He needed something... anything...

[senju-butsuma]

Butsuma wasn’t waiting for Hashirama to come back. His day was normal, whether Hashirama was present or not. He assigned missions, replied to a few formal letters from patrons, went for a drink, played hanafuda cards for money, and talked to the clan’s medic. His words were still spinning in his mind as an Uchiha kid Butsuma had thrusted a sword through. 

“If we get enough of his cells, we might be able to recreate mokuton…” 

It made Butsuma’s stomach growl loudly. The thought of being able to control the mokuton without Hashirama made him hungry for power. Hashirama had never been worthy of the strength he had inherited from the great men that came before them, from war generals who didn’t stop at nothing, from his own blood. 

Hashirama had never been any of that. He was a child with his big, curious eyes, earnest, naive, and full of hope. But the hope needed to be disemboweled. It was time for Hashirama to become a man, not a child bathing in bubbles, who talked to mushrooms as if they were alive, who trembled at the thought of death. Gaining the wood style and regeneration would put an end to Hashirama’s silly ambitions. 

Butsuma didn’t blame himself for Hashirama’s nature; instead, he blamed his late wife. She taught him to be soft. She put a wedge into his blood. He detested her for it. Each act of Hashirama’s kindness pushed him further from his father. 

Now they weren’t father and a son. 

The air in the clan eatery was interwoven with an acrid smell of cigarette smoke. The whole hall was loud and lively. The ladies behind the counter were preparing dinner while men greased cards and poured sweet, ricey sake down their throats as if their lives depended on it. Or their wallets, because the money was always at the center of a table. 

Butsuma’s eyes grazed over his cards, and a smirk spread over his face. He got the best combination. A boar, a deer, and a butterfly. Ino-shika-cho formation, he hoped his luck would continue today. He had always been very lucky with cards. He glazed over the cash at the center and his smirk widened. 

He put his cards down on the cheap pine grain with a loud smack. His callused hands were empty, and his wallet was about to become fuller, in a way his own power was. 

“I always win in the end,” Butsuma exclaimed loudly. The men sitting around his table chuckled. Everyone knew that Butsuma was good at cards. And they also said that a yokai of good luck kissed him when he was young. He believed it. Anything anyone in the Senju clan wanted to do, Butsuma was able to do better. 

His winning streak was stopped by the sound of the door creaking and opening. The silhouettes of Kyogo, Henya and Hozoshi appeared. The two men entered without greeting. They smelled like sweat and blood. Their steps were urgent and loud against the wooden floor. They made their way toward Butsuma. Their mission was to guard Butsuma’s son, to report everything he did, to say if he was fit to be the leader. They wore an expression of someone who had just gone through a terrible experience. 

Butsuma glared at them, and then he smirked calmly, in a manner that only the person hungry for power could, because men who smelled like blood and sweat always brought interesting news. He always won in the end.  

His jaw slowly swayed when he listened to them. Hashirama crossed many boundaries he shouldn’t have, as though he was a child trying to play shogi with an old player. 

Butsuma got home before midnight, sake on his breath, steps rattling the whole house. Tobirama was on a mission with the Sarutobi clan again. Butsuma had his suspicions about why his younger son spent so much time there, but he didn’t ask. Girlfriends were taboo in their house, unless it was his mistress Kurojo. Butsuma didn’t feel anything for her, but she was in their house every two days. And, unfortunately for his sons, she had the kind of bosom that entered the room before she did, which made her visually unmissable and decadent. Today she was still in the eatery, playing cards with Heruga, or whoever. 

Butsuma trampled over the tatami mats, and closed the door. He didn’t feel drunk; he was just satisfied. 

“Hashirama!” his shriek carried through the whole house to Hashirama’s room. The lights were lit, so he assumed his eldest was home, crying over writing a mission report, as he often did. Hashirama wasn’t in danger. He was just proving that the yokai of good luck had kissed the wrong bastard.

[senju-butsuma]

Normal people would be embarrassed and ashamed.

Thankfully, Hashirama is unburdened by these anchors.