Hashirama alighted from bed, which was an old and worn sleeping bag he managed squeezed himself into under the cover of a small tent. The pavilion barely had enough room to accommodate his imposing frame and the small bag which contained his belongings.
He crawled out of his shelter and squinted as the blazing sunlight overhead befell his dark eyes. Tobirama was nearby, seated in a meditative pose atop a craggy slab of rock, his back turned to Hashirama.
The two brothers, along with twenty other Senju, had just completed a mission which featured a rather dreadful battle with the ruthless Uchiha clan, and were on their way back home. After a full day's journey, they stopped to rest for the night. The Senju brothers agreed to watch duty and took it in shifts. Hashirama had gone first and, after he went to bed at about 3AM, Tobirama took over and remained on watch until dawn.
While the bulk of the troops had set up camp in the comfy grassy plains, the siblings pitched their tent atop a towering rock formation nearby. This was per Tobirama's suggestion, as it gave them the 'high ground' in case of an attack. Their lofty perch was rather rude and jagged and only provided agony and discomfort for their backs when they laid down to sleep. This was why Hashirama woke up with sharp pains at his sides and proceeded to glare murderously at his little brother who had suggested the venue.
Tobirama, perhaps sensing his brother's glowering, turned to his dark-haired elder and matched his gaze with one of indifference. “I see you're awake, brother. Pack up, we're leaving.”
“So soon?” asked Hashirama, yawning widely as he stretched his muscular arms, his tanned skin gleaming in the sunlight (he was shirtless, sporting only a pair of pants).
“Yes. It's almost noon. You overslept. I'm already set.” said the younger Senju, who was adorned in his usual blue armor, his sword sheathed at his obi and his traveling bag hanging from his shoulder. “I had a mind to kick you out of bed but, considering how long your battle with Madara was, I felt it best for your health if you were allowed a few more hours.” said Tobirama, his face still a stern, unsympathetic mask of steel despite the caring nature of his words.
Hashirama smiled. “Didn't know you cared so much.”
“Just get dressed.”
“Don't be in such a hurry, brother.” whined Hashirama.
“I'm sorry. I thought you would want to hurry back to Nezumi as his birthday comes up tomorrow.” said Tobirama. The younger Senju then leaped off their elevated perch, landing on the grassy plain below, where the rest of the squad had already gathered up their tents and belongings and were scattered across the grass, their armored plates gleaming in the sunlight as they waited for Hashirama to get ready.
Upon hearing about his young Uchiha charge, the sleep faded from Hashirama's eyes, newly found strength surged his muscles and immediately, he headed off to the nearby stream to bathe.
Hashirama was ready in ten minutes and they set off without delay. Their whole journey took two hours, during which Hashirama leaped forward at the helm of the troop, his strides quick and agile and his face aglow with excitement. Tobirama had become somewhat fond of Nezumi during his nine-month stay with their clan and though the white-haired Senju also considered the child's birthday a warm and happy occasion, he was not nearly as ecstatic as his elder brother. This was why he bounded homeward, a small distance behind Hashirama, at a more gentle pace.
When they arrived at the Senju quarters sometime in the afternoon, the team stopped to catch their breath, as well as exchange greetings with the sentries positioned there. The guards were always curious to hear the riveting details of battles fought by returning warriors, so a few of the younger, more excitable shinobi stopped at this junction to regale them with stories of encounters with the Uchiha over warm cups of sake procured by their listeners. The more seasoned fighters, whose hands had been stained with more blood than they cared to remember, had outgrown the practice of talking about war as if it were something pleasant, hurrying home to their families after a simple word or two.
The Senju brothers hadn't stopped at all. Hashirama simply leaped over the entrance gates, paying not the slightest bit of attention to the guards who thundered greetings and praises at him for his valor, strength, and the success of the assignment. This was rather strange of him as he was always willing to stay and indulge them. Tobirama also did the same. For him, that was normal. While Hashirama was rather fond of chatting with his kinsmen and enjoying their company, his younger brother was more reclusive and only engaged in activities that had a direct or indirect correlation with the progress and prosperity of the clan. For him, an active social life did not fit the description. This led to some disdain from his fellows, but he could hardly be bothered with their opinions; after all, they did not have the privilege to sit in at the meetings of the Senju top brass.
Soon, the brothers arrived at their home. Still in exceedingly high spirits, Hashirama darted first into the massive building, shrieking Nezumi's name at the top of his lungs, while Tobirama strolled in placidly and went first to their father's quarters to offer a greeting and inform him of their return. After a few seconds of shouting and hollering with no reply forthcoming from his young charge, Hashirama stopped one of the maids--a brown haired teenage servant who was rather fond of the young Uchiha and had developed a sibling-like bond with the boy--to inquire the child's whereabouts.
“Aya-chan! Where is Nezumi?” asked Hashirama. “Did he go to the stream to practice stone skipping? That kid just doesn't have the talent for it!”--here Hashirama chuckled--“he just CANNOT get it to the other side, and it's been months! I mean, it's like a disability...”
The Senju rambled on for about two minutes straight before he remembered exactly why he was talking, “...anyways, where is
the little rascal?”
If Hashirama had not been so over the moon with enthusiasm and glee, if he wasn't in such a jovial and jocund mood, if he hadn't been rambling like an idiot, perhaps he might have noticed the doleful look on the young lady's face as he assaulted her with his chattering. There was no smile on her face at the mention of the child, her skin was pale and sickly, her eyes were sunken and dull, her hair was somewhat haggard, and her whole mood and manner was one of gloom. The Senju only began to realise these things when she remained perfectly silent at his question. “Aya-chan? What's wrong?” Hashirama asked, his expression now worried. “Are you ok?”
The girl's lower lip began to quiver and her eyes widened. She wrapped her hands about herself and leaned against the paper wall on her right, slowly sinking to the matted floor. Hashirama quickly became more and more concerned and he knelt down beside her. Immediately, she let out a loud shriek, laden with deep sadness and anguish, and tears began to stream down her soft, white cheeks. “Nezumi-kun...” she mumbled in a low, cracked whisper.
“What happened, Aya?” Hashirama's expression was now grave; jaw set, eyebrows drawn, and lips straight and taut. “Tell me!” he growled.
“Nezu...” she broke off and sobbed uncontrollably.
Hashirama held both her shoulders and shook her weak, trembling frame, perhaps a little too violently as he cried, “TELL ME, AYA!”
“NEZUMI-KUN IS DEAD!”
She threw herself against Hashirama and wept bitterly into his shoulder, her entire body shaking and trembling with sobs. Hashirama gently wrapped his hands around her as she wailed. The two remained there on the floor for the longest time, Hashirama doing his best to comfort the young lady while trying to hold back his own sadness.
“How...how could this have happened?” he asked aloud, his voice trembling and soft. Tobirama joined them a moment later and when Hashirama lifted up his eyes to look upon his brother, he noted the dark and somber expression on his face, realizing that he knew as well.
“Father just informed me.” said Tobirama, his voice as steady and even as always, but with an undertone of woe. Aya cried harder and her misery echoed off the walls of the Senju residence.
To Be Continued.
He crawled out of his shelter and squinted as the blazing sunlight overhead befell his dark eyes. Tobirama was nearby, seated in a meditative pose atop a craggy slab of rock, his back turned to Hashirama.
The two brothers, along with twenty other Senju, had just completed a mission which featured a rather dreadful battle with the ruthless Uchiha clan, and were on their way back home. After a full day's journey, they stopped to rest for the night. The Senju brothers agreed to watch duty and took it in shifts. Hashirama had gone first and, after he went to bed at about 3AM, Tobirama took over and remained on watch until dawn.
While the bulk of the troops had set up camp in the comfy grassy plains, the siblings pitched their tent atop a towering rock formation nearby. This was per Tobirama's suggestion, as it gave them the 'high ground' in case of an attack. Their lofty perch was rather rude and jagged and only provided agony and discomfort for their backs when they laid down to sleep. This was why Hashirama woke up with sharp pains at his sides and proceeded to glare murderously at his little brother who had suggested the venue.
Tobirama, perhaps sensing his brother's glowering, turned to his dark-haired elder and matched his gaze with one of indifference. “I see you're awake, brother. Pack up, we're leaving.”
“So soon?” asked Hashirama, yawning widely as he stretched his muscular arms, his tanned skin gleaming in the sunlight (he was shirtless, sporting only a pair of pants).
“Yes. It's almost noon. You overslept. I'm already set.” said the younger Senju, who was adorned in his usual blue armor, his sword sheathed at his obi and his traveling bag hanging from his shoulder. “I had a mind to kick you out of bed but, considering how long your battle with Madara was, I felt it best for your health if you were allowed a few more hours.” said Tobirama, his face still a stern, unsympathetic mask of steel despite the caring nature of his words.
Hashirama smiled. “Didn't know you cared so much.”
“Just get dressed.”
“Don't be in such a hurry, brother.” whined Hashirama.
“I'm sorry. I thought you would want to hurry back to Nezumi as his birthday comes up tomorrow.” said Tobirama. The younger Senju then leaped off their elevated perch, landing on the grassy plain below, where the rest of the squad had already gathered up their tents and belongings and were scattered across the grass, their armored plates gleaming in the sunlight as they waited for Hashirama to get ready.
Upon hearing about his young Uchiha charge, the sleep faded from Hashirama's eyes, newly found strength surged his muscles and immediately, he headed off to the nearby stream to bathe.
Hashirama was ready in ten minutes and they set off without delay. Their whole journey took two hours, during which Hashirama leaped forward at the helm of the troop, his strides quick and agile and his face aglow with excitement. Tobirama had become somewhat fond of Nezumi during his nine-month stay with their clan and though the white-haired Senju also considered the child's birthday a warm and happy occasion, he was not nearly as ecstatic as his elder brother. This was why he bounded homeward, a small distance behind Hashirama, at a more gentle pace.
When they arrived at the Senju quarters sometime in the afternoon, the team stopped to catch their breath, as well as exchange greetings with the sentries positioned there. The guards were always curious to hear the riveting details of battles fought by returning warriors, so a few of the younger, more excitable shinobi stopped at this junction to regale them with stories of encounters with the Uchiha over warm cups of sake procured by their listeners. The more seasoned fighters, whose hands had been stained with more blood than they cared to remember, had outgrown the practice of talking about war as if it were something pleasant, hurrying home to their families after a simple word or two.
The Senju brothers hadn't stopped at all. Hashirama simply leaped over the entrance gates, paying not the slightest bit of attention to the guards who thundered greetings and praises at him for his valor, strength, and the success of the assignment. This was rather strange of him as he was always willing to stay and indulge them. Tobirama also did the same. For him, that was normal. While Hashirama was rather fond of chatting with his kinsmen and enjoying their company, his younger brother was more reclusive and only engaged in activities that had a direct or indirect correlation with the progress and prosperity of the clan. For him, an active social life did not fit the description. This led to some disdain from his fellows, but he could hardly be bothered with their opinions; after all, they did not have the privilege to sit in at the meetings of the Senju top brass.
Soon, the brothers arrived at their home. Still in exceedingly high spirits, Hashirama darted first into the massive building, shrieking Nezumi's name at the top of his lungs, while Tobirama strolled in placidly and went first to their father's quarters to offer a greeting and inform him of their return. After a few seconds of shouting and hollering with no reply forthcoming from his young charge, Hashirama stopped one of the maids--a brown haired teenage servant who was rather fond of the young Uchiha and had developed a sibling-like bond with the boy--to inquire the child's whereabouts.
“Aya-chan! Where is Nezumi?” asked Hashirama. “Did he go to the stream to practice stone skipping? That kid just doesn't have the talent for it!”--here Hashirama chuckled--“he just CANNOT get it to the other side, and it's been months! I mean, it's like a disability...”
The Senju rambled on for about two minutes straight before he remembered exactly why he was talking, “...anyways, where is
the little rascal?”
If Hashirama had not been so over the moon with enthusiasm and glee, if he wasn't in such a jovial and jocund mood, if he hadn't been rambling like an idiot, perhaps he might have noticed the doleful look on the young lady's face as he assaulted her with his chattering. There was no smile on her face at the mention of the child, her skin was pale and sickly, her eyes were sunken and dull, her hair was somewhat haggard, and her whole mood and manner was one of gloom. The Senju only began to realise these things when she remained perfectly silent at his question. “Aya-chan? What's wrong?” Hashirama asked, his expression now worried. “Are you ok?”
The girl's lower lip began to quiver and her eyes widened. She wrapped her hands about herself and leaned against the paper wall on her right, slowly sinking to the matted floor. Hashirama quickly became more and more concerned and he knelt down beside her. Immediately, she let out a loud shriek, laden with deep sadness and anguish, and tears began to stream down her soft, white cheeks. “Nezumi-kun...” she mumbled in a low, cracked whisper.
“What happened, Aya?” Hashirama's expression was now grave; jaw set, eyebrows drawn, and lips straight and taut. “Tell me!” he growled.
“Nezu...” she broke off and sobbed uncontrollably.
Hashirama held both her shoulders and shook her weak, trembling frame, perhaps a little too violently as he cried, “TELL ME, AYA!”
“NEZUMI-KUN IS DEAD!”
She threw herself against Hashirama and wept bitterly into his shoulder, her entire body shaking and trembling with sobs. Hashirama gently wrapped his hands around her as she wailed. The two remained there on the floor for the longest time, Hashirama doing his best to comfort the young lady while trying to hold back his own sadness.
“How...how could this have happened?” he asked aloud, his voice trembling and soft. Tobirama joined them a moment later and when Hashirama lifted up his eyes to look upon his brother, he noted the dark and somber expression on his face, realizing that he knew as well.
“Father just informed me.” said Tobirama, his voice as steady and even as always, but with an undertone of woe. Aya cried harder and her misery echoed off the walls of the Senju residence.
To Be Continued.