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The Second Daughter & The First Son - Drabble 2

Spield’s Notes: Prequel?? Or the first part Drabble 2 of the Drabble 1: HashiSaku Proposal. Just flexing the writing muscles again.

In another life, Bustuma passes over his first son and chooses Tobirama as his heir.

Unlike what many of his clan members and his brothers believed, Hashirama receives this news with a huge sense of relief and quiet sense of resignation. Tilting his face towards the sky, the afternoon sun filtering through the forests around their home, and for the first time in a long time the first-born of the Senju breathes.

Nobody will admit it, but it’s a long time coming. Everybody, including his father, always saw him as a bleeding heart. Too soft, too ready to compromise. His Mokuton and all the possibilities it brings is no match to Hashirama’s tender soul.

As opposed to him, his younger brother is quite the opposite. Analytical, objective, and ruthless when need be. The perfect clan candidate, through and through. Tobi will be fair, Hashirama knows, and he would’ve been too, but if it comes down to it if sacrifice is needed, Tobi’s will will justify the means.

Hashirama can’t do that and so that’s that.

Upon his father’s declaration, changes have been on the move. The re-arrangement of wills, deeds, and other arrangements. Including their betrothals.

“Hashirama.”

Hashirama turns to find his mother by the shoji door, wearing one of her finest kimonos of dark greens and yellows, matching his. The ornaments on her hair have been dust off and taken out of her box, and they glint beautifully against her dark tresses.

“They’re waiting for us.”

The Uzumaki entourage brought with them the grandest display of finery Hashirama has ever seen.

The Senju is powerful, in battle and in their reputation - but not in riches.

Hashirama forces his eyes not to stray, but his younger brothers - Kawarama and Itama - have no such qualms, barely suppressing the awe in their gaze as it falls on the fine colorful silks the men and women of the Uzumaki wear. And the cuts—

One of the female guards sends a wink to his way and the first-born of the Senju pries his eyes from her exposed legs. Neck heating up, Hashirama turns his attention to the entrance of the room.

Yet, he cannot ignore the chakra of the Uzumaki in contrast with the Senju.

While theirs is steady, like the earth, the Uzumaki’s are swirling balls of energy, swimming inside their bodies. They are so… different. It’s almost a wonder his father even agreed to the alliance.

But then again…

Outside, the bleating of sheep and the moaning of cows echo. Flags of all colors fly across the skies, and the accented voices of merchants talk over each other, their wares so new to the newly established settlement.

What the Senju lack in riches, the Uzumaki have in the spades. From what he knows, this is not even a quarter of their treasury.

They did not spare any expense for his brother’s ascension as heir, and of course the re-betrothal of their own heiress.

“Tobi,” Hashirama whispers, “Are you well?”

Tobirama, 10 years old, in his own blue and white hakama, nods stiffly. Already, the weight of being a heir is heavy on his young shoulders. Had it been anyone else Hashirama wouldn’t have noticed but they’re not brothers for nothing.

His brother’s bright red eyes are trained on the entrance and despite his finery, and the funny way they pulled back his hair, Tobirama looks young and uncertain.

Hashirama forces a teasing smile down, “Mito’s nice. You’ll like her.”

Tobirama slides his eyes to his aniki, quiet resignation on his young face.

“I will — but she likes you.”

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