Chapter Text
Battle among the clans in the Great Nations had raged on for so long, that it was all the children truly knew, including Tobirama. He trudged through the forest, kicking leaves and twigs as he made his way towards his makeshift training ground. His modest, blue robes stuck to his skin. A sack of practice weapons sat in a sack across his shoulder, mostly consisting of small weapons stolen off the bodies of rival Uchiha warriors. Tobirama exhaled, but even his own breath felt hot against the skin of his face. The heat and humidity were suffocating, even under the shade of the vast trees.
He made his way into the small clearing. The ground had been flattened from years of use. The nearby trees were marred by scratches and kunai markings. Tobirama unpacked his bag, his prized kunai among his collection. He took it in his hands, inspecting it. It had been his grandfather’s, the one he used to kill his first Uchiha. His father trained with that same kunai and since he had been of age, Tobirama had also trained with it. Hashirama had been less than eager to carry on the clan’s generational fight and Itama was borderline resistant, so Tobirama took it upon himself to care for the family heirloom as his brothers focused on their own studies. Batsuma began training for each of his sons around age five (with Tobirama’s starting about six years prior to his current age, the year Kawarama was killed). The Uchiha were relentless, and with every bloody interaction, both sides grew a bit more desperate.
Tobirama huffed, sweat dribbling down his face as he practiced his forms. Despite his rigorous training, his arms remained scrawny (although that wasn’t atypical for his age). His eyes narrowed in concentration as his mouth formed a severe pout. And with a flick of his wrist, he launched his prized kunai at an adjacent tree. Tobirama watched as it sailed through the air, headed straight towards the crudely painted bullseye before the nose of the weapon took a turn downward. He frowned as it sailed past his target and through the brush. It landed somewhere past the tree, making a quiet, brushing noise among the leaves.
“Hehehe hahaha!” Tobirama glanced upwards, trying to pinpoint the noise. Tentatively, he approached the spot where he lost his kunai, attention still cast towards the canopy. He bent down, head still swiveling as he picked up a tantō knife from the collection scattered on the dirt. More laughter erupted from the area his kunai flew as he continued his approach. Tobirama couldn’t help but consider that the laugh sounded something akin to the cackle of a fox, although there weren’t many foxes living in the Land of Fire. At least where the Senju were currently settled.
The Senju had a myth about laughter in the forest. That the sound of foxes were the giggles of forest spirits, amused by the misfortunes of those who wandered into the forest. But he felt his certainty in his core; this was not a fox nor any mythical spirit. He cut through the brush, the sound of giggling growing louder. And as he cleared another bundle of leaves, he soon found himself face to face with a pair of bright, red eyes. Tobirama took a half step back. He knew those eyes anywhere.
“You have the eyes of an Uchiha, and yet you throw like a Senju!” You hung upside down, the backs of your knees wrapped around a tree branch above. You studied him as he studied you, wondering who was going to move next. You grinned, snickering behind closed teeth. Tobirama scrowled, but not before noticing his prized kunai in your hands. He made a swipe for it, but you were far too quick. You swung up and perched yourself on the branch, twirling the end of the knife around your finger as Tobirama seethed on the ground below. “What is your name?”
“Give that back!” Tobirama barked, although the intimidating edge was taken off by the crack in his pre-pubescent voice. You snickered again and red rose to Tobirama’s cheeks. His pale complexion gave away his fluster and he knew it. He cleared his throat. You let your legs dangle, leaning against the trunk of the tree with your shoulder. Clearly, despite generations of violence, you didn’t take the young Senju seriously. “Give that back!”
“If it were not for the hair, I would say that you have a sharingan waiting to be awoken.” You made a gesture towards your own head, before slipping down onto the ground in front of him. With a slight beat of hesitation, Tobirama took another swing at you with his tantō. You swiftly maneuvered out of the way, seeming not to pay any mind. You stared back at the kunai in your hand, more interested in that than the boy attempting to murder you. “This looks like Uchiha craftsmanship too.”
You had stopped, your attention on the details of the blade, and this time, without a moment to think, Tobirama lunged forward. He swung his arm, his fingers tightening around the grip of his sword. Time seemed to slow down in the seconds the blade took to reach your skin. He never believed he’d have such an opportunity. He always wondered how his first kill would go, and while this certainly wasn’t what he expected, he could already see the pride he would bring his clan. Only so old, and he would have already killed an Uchiha. An Uchiha girl, but a young Uchiha who would never go on to kill a member of the Senju. Surely, he would be celebrated as a hero!
But as the tantō made contact, you wisped away. Your colors remained in the air in front of him, the blacks of your robes leaving behind only a dusk fog which Tobirama could not touch. He stopped and his hand gingerly reached into the smoke. The darkness dissipated into the air, unlike anything Tobirama had ever seen before. He growled in defeat and picked his grandfather’s kunai off the ground. But even as your genjutsu wore off of him, he still heard your laughter.
***
Tobirama returned to the training ground about the same time the next day, tentative and alert. He brandished his treasured kunai in his fist, crouching lowly as he scanned the surrounding undergrowth. Instead of his usual sack of practice weapons, he carried only what he thought he needed. His tantō lay sheathed, strapped to his left thigh and a set of assorted kunai lay strapped to his right. Tobirama, in the hubris of his youth, thought himself a hunter. If you dared show yourself to him for a second time, he surely would take your precious sharingan as a prize to show his father.
Tobirama made his way along the perimeter of his usual training area when a patch of darkness caught his eye. The small slot underneath the vegetation was just enough for a child of your size to lurk under. He could practically see it: your sinister, red eyes flickering in the dimness. He made his way across the dirt, knife in his dominant hand as he scrutinized the dark area under a canopy of vines. He bent down, slowly examining the potential hiding place and ready to kill at any moment.
Tobirama felt a tapping on his shoulder he jerked around, kunai already in trajectory to strike. But once again, as he swung directly though you, you melted into a wisp of colors and slowly disappeared into the wind. He glared at the smoke in fiery disappointment. However, this time you did not vanish for good.
“What are you looking for?” Your voice came from behind him and Tobirama took another swing. You avoided his attack and stepped to the side, eyes wide and more curious than anything. And as you fell out of Tobirama’s range, he couldn’t help but wonder why you weren’t afraid.
He recentered himself, closing his eyes as he made hand signs taught to him by his father. Tobirama himself had never fought off a genjutsu before (he never had the opportunity to), but the techniques were passed on to Senju for generations. He focused, eyes closed. In hindsight, closing his eyes in front of an opponent was likely not the best idea, but you didn’t move from your position a few feet in front of him. You watched him intently until his lids snapped open as he finished his jutsu release. Tobirama once again readied himself, adjusting his position and tensing his muscles as he prepared for another strike.
He ran at you with another wide swipe, but rather than disappearing as you had before, you struck the inner part of his elbow with the heel of your palm. Tobirama’s prized kunai went flying, but that did not stop his onslaught. You exchanged blows back and forth, dancing around each other in a series of hits and blocks. His teeth clenched, his pride reinvigorated by your willingness to fight back.
You caught his arm. Your knees bent, ready to flip him over your shoulder. But as you went to make the final blow, the momentum to finish him off escaped you. The muscles in your arms ached as you realized too late; he was large, just barely, for that maneuver to work. Tobirama immediately swept your feet out from under you. The motion knocked his fallen kunai back towards you, and scooping it up in his hand, he grabbed the front of your robes as he wielded it in his fist over you.
“I will kill you, Uchiha!” he screamed in your face, accenting his words with a tug to the fabric bunched up in his palm. Your hands flew up to cover his, your back off the ground. You flinched and looked up into his angry eyes. Tobirama huffed over you, chest heaving with every labored breath. The forest stood still as Tobirama’s hand shook. “I will carve out your sharingan and take them back to my father. As revenge for my brother! Killing you shall be an honor!” He spoke through gritted teeth, as his breathing began to slow.
You stared up at him. Your eyes bore no tears, but fear swam in your pupils. And something else. Tobirama saw your reds and the black patterns that danced within them. They fluttered closed and your head turned to the side as you braced yourself. And Tobirama didn't know what it was. Perhaps it was his own fear. The softness and youth in your face. The way your hair fanned out across the dirt ground.
He let go.
Tobirama scrambled up, taking a few steps back as you sat up.
Your gazes locked, red looking into red.
And then you disappeared.