Wabi-Sabi

***

There is a time to take counsel of your fears, and there is a time to never listen to any fear.

George S. Patton

***

In the future, when they finally get there, there will be days like this:

Even now, there aren't many days when Tobirama can wake up naturally. When he can drift awake slowly, let the birdsong bring him out of his dreams, and the lingering warmth of the blankets try to tempt him back.

He doesn't often get to see the morning light creep across Madara's skin, turning it soft and golden. With his hair living a life of its own across the pillow and his face lax. His lush eyelashes dark against his skin. He looks almost gentle these mornings, and if not for the scars littering his body, he could almost be untouched by the challenging life they've lived.

It's so rare that Tobirama doesn't even want to take advantage of their free morning for some activities they were too tired for last night. 

One of his hands is tangled with Madara's, because even in sleep, he has to be touching Tobirama, so he props himself up on his free hand to study his husband.

Madara carries his years well, so far untouched by grey, and the lines just starting to take root in his face only make him look more distinguished. 

Tobirama's husband is a hot piece of- 

And there's no alarm, no falcon, no assistant screaming about an emergency, no Isamu crying, no Kagami cannon-balling onto the bed to wake them up (and, seriously, fuck Izuna for teaching him that).

Well, Kagami still does that even though he's legally an adult now, and no matter how many times he's burst in on something he claims traumatized him.

Madara's always oddly still when he sleeps. Tobirama is restless, so he's told, moving multiple times in the night, but Madara lays down and wakes up in the same place. 

Unless Tobirama moved him sometime in the night.

It's even funnier when he thinks about Madara's general inability to be still whenever he's awake. He's always fiddling with something, even when he's relaxing with his pipe on the engawa. 

Thankfully, Kagami's out on a mission, so there's no threat of a full-grown shinobi landing on them both, laughing like the devil. Even though they finally upgraded to a thicker futon when both of them started to feel their age a few years ago.

And Isamu is spending the weekend at a friend's so their house is empty.

….

A glint of gold catches his eye just as he's contemplating dozing back off.

Sitting innocently on the small stand next to the futon are Madara's gloves. The black leather is one of the softest things Tobirama has ever felt, and just the sight of them makes his skin tingle. 

But next to them…

Sitting next to them, gleaming in the morning light, are Madara's reading glasses. Thin, gold rims that sit so perfectly on Madara's face that Tobirama can't work in the same room with him when he's wearing them.

Tobirama has a weakness for Madara's hands, especially clad in his trademark gloves.

It's by far his most powerful kink out of what is turning into a rather large collection.

Or it was.

Until the day he walked into Madara's private office and found him wearing THE GLASSES. 

His heart stopped for a moment as he took in the mass of dark hair pulled into a clumsy ponytail. The blacks worn down to softness after so many washes. Madara's hands, so big and strong and covered in tiny scars and burns that will never fade, stained with ink.

The elegant gold frames balanced over his regal nose.

"Hrngk."

The noise he made brought Madara's attention up from his papers, and when he looked directly at Tobirama, reached up absentmindedly to adjust his glasses with those damn hands, Tobirama made another inarticulate sound, came in his pants, slid down the wall, and landed in a heap.

Naturally, Madara panicked, thinking something was wrong, and tripped all over himself and everything else to check on him. 

When Tobirama finally caught his breath and admitted, with a blush crawling across his cheeks, that the glasses took him by surprise, Madara had just stared at him, uncomprehending.

Just for a minute.

Because the love of his life could be a bit slow, but he was a genius after the momentary delay.

A spiteful, cruel genius because he took immediate advantage of Tobirama, who usually made him promise no touching in any office of any kind, and fucked him with his fingers and his tongue, pressed so deep Tobirama could feel the rims of the glasses pressing into the sensitive skin of his buttocks hard enough to leave marks until Tobirama was screaming and covered in his own fluids.

And then he let Tobirama push him back into his chair and seat himself on Madara's cock, a firm hand in his hair to make sure Madara kept looking at him through those glasses as he rode him until they were both too exhausted to move.

"You can't wear those glasses in the office anymore," Tobirama told him after, chest heaving.

"No glasses in the office. Got it." Madara wheezed, still trying to catch his breath and not sounding at all upset.

They're going to live on the stand right next to their bed from now on.

And he's going to order many, many backup pairs.

And he did because Tobirama has definitely broken more than his fair share over the years.

Especially when they play mad scientist and experiment…

Madara makes a fantastic mad scientist, just cruel enough to ensure it'll take Tobirama a few days to recover, and Tobirama has long resigned himself, since the first time they tried that particular fantasy, to the knowledge that if he ever gets captured by a real mad scientist, he's probably just going to give everything up.

Especially if he resembles Madara in any way.

And now there's a pit of heat low in his belly…

Well, they can nap later. They have the whole day for once, so he slides his hand across Madara's chest, tweaks a nipple just the way that gets Madara going, and grins as his husband's dark eyes flutter open.

It's a long, pleasant morning.

But they're not there yet.

On their way though, the stubborn brats, finally on their way.

***

But now, right now, they are still struggling.

Because Calamity has failed again.

No! 

Yes! She seethes.

No, please! We're so close.

You have failed. Izuna is broken, the Senju damaged. You must start over.

She pulses. 

Spins.

No, Izuna can- I can help him. He can still be happy. He-

You have failed again! She screams at him, her voice echoing through time and space. He is broken! Pretty Flower is damaged! Snowflake will die, and Kaguya will win. You will fall to her like you did the first time! Like you would have every time since if I had not stepped in.

There's still time-

I WILL NOT BE CAGED AGAIN!

I can fix it!

You can fix nothing. All you do is break and damage and hurt.

And Madara's breath had seized in his lungs at the reminder. All that suffering he'd wrought because he'd been weak.

Do you think you are the only one I could have picked? You are strong, Calamity, but there is one who will surpass you. I could have waited for him.

That's not fair. I'm trying-

You are a failure! I have wasted my time with you. You were supposed to save them all. To stop Mother. All you have done is let her win.

I won't- please-

She spins. Pushes memories of every time Madara has failed into his mind. Images of the Konoha burning, of nothing but the wasteland that will come. Of Hashirama cut open and left to bleed. Of Izuna and Tobirama cut down, eyes wide and unseeing. Of Mito torn apart, blood as red as her hair spreading across the ground. 

Of Naruto and Sasuke reaching for one another in death and never succeeding before the last of their life leaves them. Of Iruka and Kakashi tearing one another apart on the battlefield. Of Obito dying alone and Itachi being forced to witness the world burn, a failure just like Madara despite all his effort and sacrifice. 

Perhaps I should have waited for Dragonheart. He would have succeeded the first time. You don't deserve to call yourself 'Uchiha'. All your blood has sworn themselves to this war, has chosen to follow you, and here you are, a failure. Pathetic. 

But Itachi shouldn't have to carry it, Madara thinks desperately. Itachi already carried everything else in that first life. He shouldn't have to carry this, too. 

I can do it, Madara swears with everything that is left in him. I can do it. We have not lost yet. Please don't make me start over again. We have already come so far. Please let us try. 

Please.

….

Please!

I could have left you to die in that first life. Scattered to pieces with nothing but regret and sadness and misery. Is that what you want? Apparently, it would have been just as effective.

No, I will win. I will win!

You have one hour to turn the tide. If you fail again, Calamity, I will send you back to the beginning. I will make you live them all over and over until you finally understand that failure is not allowed. I will not tolerate it, not from you! 

And Madara sobs with relief, still running, as the Rinnegan stops and falls silent.

She does unbend enough to show him the way. To show him how to blanket the battlefield with his chakra and the steps, the signs, to bring everything under that blanket to a standstill.

A technique not seen on this Earth since Hagaromo himself.

***

Whoever he is, he is not human.

That much Tobirama is sure of as he faces a perfect copy of himself.

And does his sneer look like that? He loves turning it on Hashirama when his big brother is lecturing him on interpersonal relationships. Tobi, of course, they cry when you're not nice, no one is as smart as you, just treat them like an adorable small animal, you like those! But if that's what it looks like, he's going to stop.

It's incredibly condescending. Why hasn't Hashirama punched him in the face before? Because that's what Tobirama wants to do to Not-Tobirama and he's only been facing that look for thirty seconds. 

It dawns on him, then. 

This is the enemy Hashirama would not put a name to. The one he hints at constantly but seems too afraid to confirm out loud. This is the reason he wants the village so badly. Why he clings to Madara.

Because this thing is not human, and just looking at it, Tobirama wants it to burn.

It lunges past him, heading straight for Hashirama, who's too bogged down by the wounded and Izuna to do more than use the mokuton as a shield. 

And despite the fact that he drives Tobirama up the wall, that's his big brother, and this inhuman prick thinks he's going to hurt him?

Absolutely not.

Hiraishin is not complete yet. Tobirama can see the final product, still a few steps short, but it's still useful. It still makes Tobirama faster than ninety-nine percent of those he could face on the battlefield, and this thing is no different.

He gets between Hashirama and the wounded and Not-Tobirama every time until the thing twists his face into rage and frustration.

It's odd to hear it shriek at him in his own voice.

"Would you just stay out of the way? Do you want to die?"

Tobirama ignores his questions to ask his own. "What are you?"

"Nothing for you to be concerned with Tobi-Tobi. Just get out of the way."

"And let you kill Hashirama? Not a chance."

"Awe, precious baby brother, don't worry. I won't kill Hashirama."

But he lunges again, and Tobirama has to block his blade again.

"Stop it!" Not-Tobirama shrieks, face red. Black blotches appear and disappear on his skin.

"No."

Whoever the fuck this is, they don't have a battle temperament. One of Butsuma's favorite lessons to hammer home was how to stay calm and rile your opponent at the same time. 

At least it was until Hashirama mastered it and used it against their father to devastating effect in their personal squabbles.

Not-Tobirama let loose a scream of rage and attacked again. And Tobirama was so focused on protecting Hashirama that he barely managed to block the second strike aimed at Izuna.

Oh.

Oh.

"I told you I'd leave Hashirama alone! Get out of the way!"

"No."

Izuna.

It's Izuna.

Izuna is the target.

Madara's precious, last surviving sibling. Last surviving family member.

So that's its plan.

It's not Hashirama.

It's Madara.

Madara is the true target.

Unstable, emotional Madara, who all the Senju intelligence experts swear would not survive the loss of his last brother.

Whom Hashirama has defended for so long.

Whom Hashirama loves so deeply.

The rest of the pieces fall into place.

If he kills Izuna wearing Tobirama's face, no amount of conviction and placating will stop Madara.

If, by some miracle, a peace holds, Madara will never be healed. It will simmer just beneath the surface until it finally boils over, and only the gods know what the damage would be.

It could be enough to drive a wedge between Hashirama and Madara, and since Hashirama and Madara's goal is peace, as unrealistic as it is, that means this thing's goal is to keep the war going.

Keep whittling away the Senju and the Uchiha until there's no one left.

Or perhaps it's trying to get Madara or Hashirama to do something specific.

Either way, it's enemy.

And for the first time in his life, Tobirama feels a drive to protect a Uchiha. 

And it's even Madara, of all of them. 

The Brother-Stealer.

Though he tells himself, it's just a by-product of protecting Hashirama.

He goes on the attack.

Not-Tobirama is skilled, far beyond the average shinobi, but Tobirama is better.

At least he is until a mutated Mokuton nearly decapitates him, except Mito's chains get in the way as she joins him in the rear.

"This is the one who started the fire?" She asks.

Not-Tobirama cackles.

Tobirama makes a mental note never to laugh like that.

"Yes, I started it! How do you like it, Princess? Maybe I'll visit Uzushio and give them one. How would your little island of paper take it?"

Mito snarls, "You will not live long enough to try."

"If you're so insistent on getting in my way when I'm trying to be nice, perhaps I should change my approach." 

Tobirama's stomach twists with something horrible and painful as Not-Tobirama's features stretch and pull, and then it's not Not-Tobirama. 

It's Not-Izuna.

Different approach, same result.

"I believe it would be best if we killed this…thing, Senju-san."

"I agree, Uzumaki-hime."

Not-Izuna laughs, but it doesn't quite reach the mocking thing Tobirama has faced across the battlefield, so he's clearly not as practiced at intimidating Izuna.

Why not prepare for that?

"Are you ready for me, then? Think you can match me when I have a Sharingan?"

Tobirama's chakra reaches out, pokes. Because that mokuton had not been the real mokuton, just a bastardized copy. If he can't copy the mokuton correctly, there's no way-

"You don't have a Sharingan," Tobirama says, utterly confident.

The Sharingan has always been a very clear blight on the chakra signature of the Uchiha that achieved it. It was the very first thing Butsuma taught him to recognize among chakra signatures.

Not-Izuna's chakra is oily, rotted, disgusting, but there is no blight.

"A paltry intimidation then," Mito smirks. "Hardly worth our time."

For two shinobi who have never fought side by side together, they work rather well. Tobirama is skilled enough to match and adjust his style to hers, while Mito is confident enough in his ability and her understanding of her own skill to lead and trust him to follow.

She's no match for Tobirama herself, but she is close to on par with whatever it is they're fighting, and with Tobirama at her side, they quickly force it on the defensive.

There's even a glance of victory until the not-mokuton erupts from the earth and nearly impales them both.

It is much more extensive than Tobirama calculated and this thing is nearly as adept with it as Hashirama himself.

How long as this been brewing?

And how did Hashirama and Madara even discover it to begin with?

Tobirama has to switch from offense to defense and then protection when Mito is just a hair too slow.

"Would you like me to leave?" She asks when he's clipped, shoving her aside.

"No, the- shit!" The next blow nearly takes him off his feet.

"Tobi!" Hashirama, panicked, but still carrying the wounded. If he tries to intervene, he'll just be helping this thing with its goal.

"Stay back!" And then Tobirama can't do anything but defend, only his half-developed hiraishin saving him from the hundred of strikes Not-Izuna's mokuton rains down.

He underestimated its strength, he realizes. Or it finally overcame its own ego and realized it needed to get serious.

He's never seen Hashirama use the mokuton to its full effect, but if it's anything like this, well, it makes sense they call him a god.

Tobirama is not going to win. At most, he can buy enough time for Mito and Hashirama to get away as it whittles away at him. Death by a thousand cuts is not a pleasant way to go, but it does give Tobirama time to achieve something.

But this is it for him, and the realization is…painful.

He still doesn't believe in Hashirama's dream, but suddenly, losing the opportunity to see it at all is a little heartbreaking. 

More than he ever thought it would be.

But the Senju are behind him. Just shy of five hundred civilians and shinobi fleeing for their lives against a force of nature with a mind of its own.

The Uchiha are behind him. Enemies for so long, but today, today they are carrying the wounded and the young. Their fire at his back to defend, not burn.

And then there is a sun on the battlefield. So bright it eclipses even Not-Tobirama-Not-Izuna's unnatural wildfire.

Madara's chakra blankets the field and a pulse of relief echoes through Hashirama and Mito's. And frankly, everyone else near the rear.

Even Tobirama's, though he'll never admit it out loud. 

Then Tobirama sees it, though he's not sure what exactly he's seeing.

Just for a moment, everything is still. Even the flames froze mid-flicker. The strange Not-Tobirama-Not-Izuna that feels like oil and rot is stopped mid-step. Tobirama's breath is caught mid-inhale.

And then Madara, who was a hundred feet away before, is suddenly right there, an arm around Tobirama's waist as the flames come alive again, and he can breathe, sweeping him away from Not-Tobirama's fatal strike before it can land.

Thoughts of what that was are quickly set aside with Madara's arm around his waist like a brand of iron. He moves faster than Tobirama ever thought possible, sweeping Mito under his other arm and dragging both of them to safety as if they weigh nothing.

Given the size of the gunbai on his back, does he even notice their weight?

"Take care of the wounded, Hashirama."

"I'll meet you at the compound."

Madara releases Mito, "Help Hashirama." And she goes without hesitation. 

Hikaku and several other Uchiha gather, but Madara sends all but two with Mito: a young girl, Yoruichi, and a boy, Kisuke, who cannot possibly be an Uchiha by blood-based on his coloring. 

Not-Izuna seethes, but he stays well back.

Afraid of Madara, Tobirama realizes. 

Very afraid.

"Put on your real face, Zetsu."

"But I like this one, Dara-chan."

"You're own too ugly for you?"

"Maybe I won't give it back." Not-Izuna taunted. 

"How about I rip it off and give it to my brother as a gift?" Madara snarled.

"This is him, Shishou?" Yoruichi cracked her knuckles. She couldn't be more than twelve or thirteen, but she must be a genius, or close enough, for Madara to choose her to fight at his side.

"This is him," Madara growled, pulling his gunbai from his back.

"And we don't need him alive?" The boy, Kisuke, clarified, drawing his own sword, a long, thin blade with a red sheen, as the flames crept closer on all sides.

"No." Madara's smile took on a cruel edge, and for once, it comforted Tobirama instead of terrifying him.

"He's not human, and he has some bastardized version of the mokuton." 

Madara didn't look away from Not-Izuna. "What else?" He'd always been a natural commander on the field, even more so than Hashirama, and it felt strangely natural to let him lead.

"He's fast, but not as fast as me or you."

"That'll make this easy then," Yoruichi grinned, "I'm faster than both of you."

And then she was gone, pressing forward in an impressive rush of chakra and taijutsu that immediately put Zetsu on the defensive. Kisuke hot on her heels, sharp and pale in the openings her attack left.

They were an excellent team, Tobirama noted. A credit to whoever had taught them.

"Stay on my left," Madara ordered, and Tobirama barely had time to acknowledge him before he, too, was pushing forward, countering Zetsu's fake mokuton with sweeping blows from his gunbai.

Madara's strategy is obvious within a few seconds, though how the other two knew it so quickly is a question for another time. The Great Calamity of the Uchiha took the main charge, matching the not-mokuton with blows that would crush a human and forcing the majority of Not-Izuna's attention to stay on him. He left his back wide-open to focus on the attack and Tobirama slots easily into the gap, the same way he has for Hashirama in the past, ensuring none of the wild strikes get lucky.

The two young Uchiha slip in from the side where Kisuke actually manages to get his sword into Not-Izuna's leg relatively quickly, and the thing falls back into the flames with a howl of pain.

They can't follow him into the fire, though, so they're forced to regroup and retreat as the flames crawl closer.

This fight is pointless if they can't stop the fire, Tobirama realizes. And Madara's chakra is significantly drained from whatever he did when he first arrived.

Drained to a level Tobirama has never felt before.

Suddenly, Madara's arm was around his waist again, and Tobirama slung an arm around his shoulder automatically, bringing the other up to shield his face as Madara pushed chakra into his feet and leaped into the air. Yoruichi and Kisuke following, both of them latching onto Madara's back as the Uchiha unleashed a breath of black flames.

"How far back are we?"

Tobirama reached out and found Hashirama's chakra clustered with Mito and Hikaku and several others nearly a mile behind them now. "A mile and growing. But the fire is only two hundred feet from surrounding us."

"Creepy fucking goatfucker." Madara hissed, making the younger two laugh, as he let loose another swath of black flames and leaped clear of the flames closing in around them.

Tobirama reached out to check for stragglers. "Shit."

"What?"

"There's a group separated off to the west. Three miles. Mostly civilians, a few shinobi." He recognizes the chakra of Touka and Renji and two others Tobirama had helped teach.

"I can try to get through," Yoruichi volunteered, already bracing to leap.

"No," Madara whistled three times in short succession.

An answer bird's cry responded a few seconds later. The shadow of a hawk fading in and out of the smoke above them.

Madara gave another long whistle, and the shadow turned west and abruptly disappeared. 

***

Despite layers of cloth tied over their noses and mouths, the cloying smoke was beginning to slow down even Renji and Touka. The two senior Senju shinobi among the handful guarding a large swatch of the civilians, they'd been making good time until they'd been forced to veer west to avoid a growing column of fire. 

Now, it had wrapped almost completely around them, and the smoke was too thick to find an opening. The civilians were beginning to panic, along with the younger shinobi, after several had dropped dead where they stood from smoke inhalation.

Even Touka and Renji were beginning to feel the tug as their options slowly closed off.

"If we can't find a path through soon-"

"I know." Touka snapped, even though she hadn't meant to. Renji was only a few years younger, but he was the coddled only child born to one of the current Clan Elders and had been sent to the battlefield relatively late. He was a decent shinobi and despite his heritage, didn't have any issue taking orders. He was a bit sensitive, though, so he usually wasn't put with Touka, whose lack of patience tended to traumatize newer recruits, and he flinched at her tone now.

He'd have to wait for an apology if she ever bothered to give him one since they were minutes away from dying. Her eyes were watering non-stop, the smoke making them sting and burn, and she could feel the exposed skin on her neck and arms starting to blister and peel. 

They weren't going to make it to safety, let alone out of the fire's path if they didn't-

A weak cry was nearly drowned out by the roar of flames, but Touka, Renji, and several of the civilians looked up anyway.

"That sounded like a bird," Renji, shielding his eyes against the brightness of the flames.

"Impossible," One of the nearby civilians coughed. "They would have fled as soon as the fire started."

"It wasn't human," Renji insisted, even though there was no way to know. There were too many civilians and too much fire for Touka to do more than get a body count once it was all over.

A second cry made even more of them stop and try to look up.

And then a hawk, its wing span easily outstripping Touka's own reach, blew past her head, caught an updraft from the fire, and was propelled back above the smoke.

"Holy shit!" Renji screamed in surprise, and he wasn't the only one.

"Wait, that-"

"Uchiha Madara raises hawks!" Touka roared. Tobirama had complained about it for months after one had nearly succeeded in eating one of his moths, "Follow it!"

The hawk dove again, gliding so low over their heads that the tips of its feathers brushed more than a few of them, turned abruptly north, and caught another updraft above the smoke.

"Go! Go!" Getting the civilians moving again was hard, but once they were in motion, they were self-propelling as Madara's hawk dove down to change their direction every few minutes.

It took another hour, which felt like an eternity, and there was no way Madra's hawk was going to survive all the smoke it had inhaled before they started seeing a clear sky in the distance.

The hawk picked up an easy glide as they got the first civilians into the open fields, the Uchiha Compound visible on the horizon, and no one needed any direction once they caught a glimpse. A final burst of adrenaline pushing even the civilians to try and run the remaining distance to safety.

The closer they got, the more of their clan mates they found trailing from the compound to the rear guard, where Mito and a handful of Uchiha were still urging them to move faster. Touka, Renji, and the others slowed to stay back with her as the hawk disappeared over the walls of the compound.

Touka felt a brief burst of sympathy for the animal, regardless of who it belonged to, sacrificing itself to lead them out.

She looked back, just a glance to see if they'd left anyone behind, but the sight stopped her in her tracks. 

The fire spread as far as she could see in either direction, the sky grey instead of blue.

Had there ever been a fire this big before? Not in any of the histories the Senju taught, and they kept a diligent record of the fires caused by the Uchiha. There'd been five that they still taught about.

Two back in the days of yokai, when the Uchiha's famed hunts would fill entire horizons with smoke and fire. The third from the year the Uchiha settled by the Naka, a year after the Senju had settled in their current location and almost two hundred since this day. The Uchiha had burned almost a thousand acres along the river, provoking a fight with a small clan that had been wiped out in the ensuing battle, and from then on, everything west of the Naka, south of the Senju, east of the mountains, and north of the capitol had belonged to the Uchiha.

The Senju still spoke of the rage the then Clan Head has displayed when he'd learned the Uchiha had cut off direct access to the capitol and the Damiyo and any chance of the Senju earning enough favor to become a Noble Clan in that decade.

The fourth was from the time of her great-great-grandfather, Senju Tai, but was so shrouded in legend that they couldn't confirm if it had truly happened or not. Tai had apparently told his children about it years later, but they'd all been born at least a decade later. Great-great-grandfather Tai had always claimed the fire had been part of a battle against the Moon Princess Kaguya and that the Uchiha had lit the God Tree on fire with a flame so hot it burned white. The burning God Tree was so bright there had been night in the Land of Fire for three days before it finally started to die down. Most of them just dismissed it as a fable now, especially because Tai had always insisted they found alongside the Uchiha, something the recent generations couldn't even imagine.

The fifth had been Madara.

Already on the battlefield at the age of six, he'd awoken his Sharingan after seeing his older brother fall to Touka's aunt's blade, and the eruption of chakra had been so hot and so powerful it had set off a wildfire that had ravaged the agricultural fields at the heart of the Land of Fire to such an extent that it had nearly pushed them to starvation when nothing could be harvested for the two years following.

Butsuma and his father had celebrated the kill, but Touka's aunt had always been quietly guilty about the result of her success. She'd been the first shinobi in the clan Touka had seen not celebrate the death of a Uchiha, and now she sat as one of the few Elders pushing for moderation and in favor of Hashirama's plans for peace. 

They'd never been particularly close; Touka's parents hadn't shared her views for the short time they'd been alive, and Butsuma had been quick to take Touka in after their deaths rather than let her aunt do so. 

And as a child, excited to be with her cousins, Touka hadn't seen a problem with it.

Even before today, she hadn't had much drive to reconnect with her aunt.

They'd given him the title Calamity after that fire. 

But now that she thinks about it, she never once heard that word leave her Aunt's mouth.

***

In general, neither the Uchiha nor the Senju knew what to do when the gate closed behind the last of the stragglers. 

For better or for worse, there were other things to worry about than their sudden forced proximity.

At least a quarter of the Senji shinobi and nearly a third of their civilian population didn't make it out of the fire, and those that did have nothing but the clothes on their backs and whatever wounds they earned from the flames. 

They have no food, no medicine, no strength to offer the Uchiha who's home they must now take refuge in. 

The unnatural fire, because the Uchiha shinobi have confirmed it is not normal, it has burned through all-natural fuel but shows no sign of waning and surrounded the Uchiha Compound. Zetsu's chakra signature is laced through the fire, so it must be feeding it.

The saving grace is the Blood Wards surrounding the compound. They glimmer and shift as the fire presses close, but it cannot breach them. Instead, they look out at walls of fire on all sides, safe from the burn but not from the rising temperature. It's already at least ten degrees higher than is normal for an already hot summer. 

Which means their ability to store food and water will be severely depleted the longer the situation continues. Medicine will go bad faster. Wounds will take longer to heal when those bearing them won't be able to truly rest. Any plants growing in the compound will quickly wilt and die.

Zetsu lept back into the fire to escape them, which means he may be able to survive inside of it for an unknown period of time. Even if he can't come through the wards, he will simply be laying in wait when they are finally driven to attempt to leave.

It is far from an ideal situation, but Tobirama honestly can't even fantasize what an ideal one would look like at this point. It's unlikely the Uchiha even have the infrastructure to house them for the short term, let alone any long-term solution.

There's nothing left of the Senju compound based on the strength of the fire. Based on the rising temperature, the actual temperature of the fire has to be above five hundred degrees Fahrenheit, which means even the rock that is the basis of most of both compounds is not safe. With continued exposure to the heat of the fire, spalling will begin in the rock, and it will shatter.

Not even the walls of the Senju Compound will still be standing.

A detached part of Tobirama's mind begins cataloging everything he has lost. His home, some friends certainly, he doesn't even know if Aiko has survived, but also his lab, all those years of research and half-formed jutsu that he hasn't finished and memorized yet. All his books.

All the heirlooms he and Hashirama had saved of their mother and brothers. Mother's jewelry -besides the necklace he'd just gifted Aiko a few days ago-Kawarama's bracelets, and Itama's journal. 

All turned to ash.

He pushes through the exhausted crowd of shinobi, following Hashirama's chakra until he finds him and is wrapped in his brother's arms before he realizes that just a few feet away, Madara is holding Izuna, whose cheeks are red with tears of blood, as he clutches the Uchiha kunoichi's still body and sobs.

Automatically cataloging Hashirama's condition he realizes his brother's chakra is as low as Madara's, both of them drained to near uselessness.

Izuna is clearly out of the fight as well, his chakra so erratic and manic that it feels like he's dying. 

And Tobirama himself is drained from extended use of the half-finished hiraishin. 

Butsuma is dead, but the wolves are gone. 

What do they do now?

"What do we do now, brother?" It was startling to realize that not only was Hashirama crying, but Tobirama was as well.

So was everyone else as the adrenaline began to fade and the realization of their situation set in.

But while the rest of them cried silently, Izuna's only grew louder, and Tobirama had to close his eyes to the sight of his battlefield rival begging a corpse to come back to life as he bleed from his eyes.

Hashirama actually tucked Tobirama's face into his shoulder when the other Uchiha finally had to take her body from Izuna, and he started screaming and trying to fight them off.

"Brother-"

"You don't have to watch," Hashirama sounded desperate, desperate to hide what was coming.

Desperate to protect Tobirama from watching. The Uchiha burned their dead. He already knew that. Hashirama was overreacting in the midst of all the adrenaline and exhaustion and shock and grasping at straws to protect Tobirama from something.

Izuna fought so hard he nearly killed two of his clan mates until Madara got a firm grip on his younger brother and managed to restrain him with the help of Hikaku and Yoruichi. 

The Uchiha shinobi who took the body kept apologizing, while others ripped the doors off the nearby building in their haste to build an appropriate funeral pyre. A woman, civilian by her dress, rushed from the Main House with a beautiful kimono, and they carefully arranged the body and draped the kimono over her.

When he saw it, Izuna let out a sound like a wounded animal, his Sharingan spinning wildly out of control. It felt like he was bleeding chakra as he made another lunge for the pyre, and Madara had to lay on him to stop him, murmuring apologies and begging his brother to stay strong. 

Ten Uchiha shinobi took up a circle around the pyre, all of them casting apologetic looks at Izuna as they summoned Katon until the pyre caught. Someone began a mourning song that picked up voices as it continued.

The Senju had always been taught not to cry at funerals, to send the dead off with dignity and respect and silence.

The Uchiha cried openly. Even the civilians had tears of blood, cheeks, and shirts stained red.

Was that why they favored dark colors to the Senju's pale?

No one left as the pyre burned. More and more of the Senju even joined those watching, Touka coming to stand next to Hashirama and Tobirama. 

There were very few Uchiha children, Tobirama noted. The youngest he could see only three or four at the side of an elder leaning heavily on a cane.

Izuna got free several hours in, as the last of the flesh melted away, and attempted to climb into the pyre before anyone could stop him. 

He only managed to get his arms into the flame before Madara, Hikaku, Yoruichi, Hashirama, and Tobirama were able to grab him and pull him back.

In all his wildest dreams, Tobirama had never thought a day would come when he would be attempting to help Hashirama treat Uchiha Izuna's burned hands and arms as his sobs finally gave way to a pitiful whimpering.

***

"His name is Zetsu," Hashirama explains hours later when the body and the pyre are nothing more than smoldering ash, the mourning song had ended, and Madara was cradling a shocky Izuna and gently rocking him back and forth. 

It was dawn the following day, but no one had left, what remained of the Senju and the Uchiha still gathered in a circle.

"He is Kaguya's son. Her creation. The one who led Indra astray and shattered the race of shinobi after her sealing into petty, squabbling clans. He needs Madara's Sharingan to release her from her prison in the moon, to free her to take her vengeance on the children who betrayed her. He tried to drive Madara to madness by killing his last brother wearing the face of his best friend's brother. Spurred on the war between the Uchiha and the Senju for years behind the scenes. There is no way to know how many deaths in both clans lay at his feet. He brought the fire that has destroyed everything outside the compound and still burns. An attempt to drive a wedge between Madara and myself."

"This is why you have been preaching peace?" Touka demands, "Why did you not tell us any of this before now?"

"Would you have believed me? Even the Uchiha only learned the truth recently. Madara was able to share it with them through the Sharingan, but I did not think the Senju would accept it in a similar manner."

They wouldn't have. Absolutely not, Tobirama thinks. Even suggesting that would have been the last straw with Hashirama for many of them.

But that was before…

Before, Zetsu let loose a wildfire that has destroyed everything the Senju held dear.

"Zetsu and Kaguya will destroy the shinobi, and those they do not destroy, they will enslave. There is no future for the world if Kaguya is freed. Zetsu will continue to kill and destroy anyone and anything in his path. They must be stopped. The Uchiha have sworn themselves to this war. What will the Senju do?"

***

People start their lives at last when they are able to live for something other than themselves.

Albert Einstein

***

~tbc~