Chapter Text
A bright bushfire crosses into Tobirama’s sensing range, roughly northwest of his position. It’s as subtle as a true forest fire, and followed by four smaller, more well hidden chakra signatures of breeze and soil. The trajectory of their path would continue in Senju lands, through the forest then across one of the farming fields left fallow for the year, and, if not stopped, to the clan compound. As the patrol of the northwest side of their territory is his duty, such an invasion must be dealt with quickly.
Though, this is a strange tactic for the Uchiha Clan to try: a fiveman team of one Uchiha and four Hagoromo with no other squads in range. It calls to mind a hit and run attack, but the possibility of patrols delaying and even deflecting the team away from their main adjective is high.
No matter. Tobirama can handle one squad.
Halfway to the enemy, the Uchiha at the front sharply veers south, gaining distance from the other four and going directly into Tobirama’s path. He climbs higher in the trees and lies in wait. The signature has diminished in scale, and lowering rapidly as it gets closer, but in the end, it doesn’t matter how much they try to hide their chakra considering how unsubtle they've been so far.
Flickering light as bright as a fire, a young Uchiha wreathed in the cyan blue flames of Susanoo, Madara and Izuna’s signature Mangekyō technique, bursts out of the treeline. Only a partial ribcage of three ribs remains, the bottom set halfway to fading as he watches. And Tobirama only watches him, stilling his hands from completing a suiton jutsu.
What stays his hand is not the dwindling feel of the Uchiha’s chakra or his concerningly young appearance; it’s the young child on his back, presence hidden by the Susanoo wrapped around wielder and child alike.
This recontextualizes everything he thought the situation was.
Instead of an ill-advised attack on Senju lands, it’s a teenager and a child far away from the Uchiha lands. But how do the four Hagoromo factor into this equation? They are still allied to the Uchiha so why isn’t the teen sticking close to them?
… Unless—
Four shinobi come into view, armor undeniably adorned with the Hagoromo kamon and weapons drawn. The older Uchiha has the child get off and behind him, drawing a kunai and shifting into a defensive stance. Tobirama notices his left hand doesn’t leave the front of the bulky sling across his chest and slips down to a lower branch for a closer look.
“Tired, kid? Ready to come back quietly?”
“Go fuck yourself,” the teenager hisses. He and the child step back when the clear leader of the squad steps forward, the Susanoo flickering like dying flames around them. “I said fuck off!”
The man taunts them, but Tobirama doesn’t quite register the words, his focus narrowed down to the sling. When the teen moved, it squirmed in response—flashing dark wispy hair on a tiny head before the teen’s hand could reposition to hide it. The clues snap together to form an incomplete picture of the situation as he realizes he’s seen slings like this before, on the chests and backs of mothers.
There are three Uchiha children on this battlefield: a teenager, a child, and a baby. And only two possible reasons for them to be so far from the Uchiha Clan Compound and rebutting the help of an ally would be either child hunters or—
Bloodline thieves.
Tobirama narrows his eyes and quietly unsheathes his sword.
When the leader jumps forward with his katana in motion to cut down the teenager, a flash of another sword flares in front of him and his body is kicked back to the remaining three adults. Tobirama lands between the children and the men, their leader’s head falling at his feet. For a tense moment, there is only the shuffling of feet as the thieves regroup around the corpse in their midst and the stifled panting of the teenager as he edges closer to chakra exhaustion.
“We have no quarrel, Senju,” one of the men says, possibly the second-in-command. “We’re just here for the kids.”
“How unfortunate you are that I have a quarrel with you.”
His hands clasp into the tiger seal and cast Kokuangyo no Jutsu, wrapping the thieves’ perception in complete darkness. They crowd together back-to-back with weapons drawn and on high alert, but it’s a simple matter of slipping past their blinded guard to slit their throats. Tobirama flicks blood off his katana and sheathes it as he turns to the children.
The oldest has collapsed to his knees, Susanoo gone but his sharingan still active. Without the fire of the Susanoo obscuring his chakra, the teen’s chakra has the feel of cool water, a placid lake nearly drained: a suiton Uchiha, exceptionally rare in birth and never seen on the battlefield. The child is pressed close to his side and clutching onto his arm, his own single tomoe sharingan spinning wildly.
A young child with an active sharingan, a suiton teenager with the Mangekyō, and a baby. All rare and valuable in their own right, and surely would have been heavily guarded in their clan compound.
More clues found, the picture gains more clarity and Tobirama does not like what it’s turning out to be.
Tobirama keeps his hands open, apart, and in front of him as he steps closer. “I do not wish you harm.”
Halfway to them, the teen pushes himself up to stand, detaches the child from his arm, and raises the kunai.
“I won’t be fooled, Senju.”
He uses shunshin to close the distance, kunai aimed for Tobirama’s throat. Tobirama steps aside and grabs his wrist in one hand and the scruff of his neck with the other. The teen sags in his grip, kunai dropping from lax fingers, and Tobirama waits a moment to check if he’s truly unconscious before gently turning and lowering him to lie on his back on the ground. He turns to the child and finds he had used the distraction to hide behind a tree, giving away his location by peeking around it.
The child flinches and scuffles back behind the tree upon noticing Tobirama’s gaze.
Tobirama sighs. At least the boy's sharingan is deactivated and is no longer an unnecessary drain on his chakra. “Please come out. I promise I only wish to help you and your clansmen.”
There is no reply nor does the boy come out of hiding, so Tobirama turns to assess the most vulnerable of the group. Keeping the bright gunpowder spark of the boy’s chakra signature at the forefront of his sensory perception, Tobirama pulls the sling open enough to maneuver the baby out of it. Wide dark eyes blink up at him and the baby fusses in his hold until he settles her in his arms properly, remaining surprisingly quiet with only brief unhappy little noises until she settles down with a happy coo. Ash still clings to her pink kimono shirt and red hakama pants, but aside from a scratch on her cheek, she’s in good health. Tobirama brushes his finger across the injury using iryō ninjutsu to heal it, and is rewarded with a tiny fist clutching his finger with all of her strength.
Noticing the spark of gunpowder move, Tobirama keeps his gaze on the baby and only looks up at the child when he stands on the other side of his clansman, fidgeting with the edge of his high-collar black shirt. He removes his finger from the baby's grip with care and lays his palm on the teenager's shoulder, hand glowing with iryō diagnostic chakra.
“What is your name?” Tobirama asks.
“... Kagami.” Dark eyes flicker from the ground to Tobirama’s own then return to the ground. “Are you really gonna help us?”
Tobirama switches from the diagnostic to transferring chakra into the teen to fill his critically low reserves. “I will help you return home, yes.”
Kagami scuffs his foot into the dirt. Tobirama adjusts the baby in his arm when she whines. Kagami sits down, watching Tobirama’s hand, but glances at the baby.
“Would you like to hold her, Kagami-kun?”
Kagami nods, but hesitates in holding out his hands. “... I forgot how Hoshiko told me to hold babies.”
“I will teach you. Here.”
Tobirama uses both hands to transfer the baby over and gently corrects Kagami’s hold, nudging his arms into properly supporting her head and body. When Tobirama smiles at him, Kagami shyly ducks his head down. It's a quiet, peaceful moment as Tobirama returns his attention to the teen and runs a hovering hand glowing with diagnostic chakra from his sternum to his abdomen then sweeps up to his head and eyes.
“Is he gonna be alright, Senju-san?” Kagami asks.
How to answer that? Tobirama switches back to transferring chakra to the teen and ponders how to explain the full depth of exactly why Hoshiko needs more than just battlefield first aid to a perhaps six-year-old child.
The deeper inspection of Hoshiko’s body revealed problems fixable by the ninjutsu, such as the bruised ribs, chakra exhaustion, and scattered cuts and bruises, but something concerning happened to his head and nervous system. There’s strain in the eyes, but his nerves are firing more pain signals than warranted, like aftershocks shooting to signal tremendous pain coming from no discernable point of origin. He wouldn’t be surprised to hear Hoshiko was hit by a raiton jutsu to the spine with the way his body is acting.
“With time and rest, Kagami-kun,” is the only answer he can come up with. That said, Tobirama slides one arm under the teen’s shoulders and the other under his knees, lifting him up. “Follow closely, there’s a supply outpost nearby we can rest in.”
This area is too dangerous to stay around as more hunters or Senju patrols will eventually find the bodies which will lead them straight to the children.