Chapter Text
Starting a village together was no small thing.
Hashirama sighed, leaning back in his seat as Madara moved through the office with a stack of scrolls in the crook of his arm. His husband smiled at him, soft and knowing, his eyes glinting with a promise – a promise that had Hashirama sitting up straighter, his body suddenly awake and alert. There had been such good fortune since the peace treaty had been signed, those years ago, and he had been blessed with happiness since. They were twenty-eight, now, and life had settled into a calm.
With Madara at his side and their brothers as advisors, it felt as if everything was perfectly in place. There was only one thing he would perhaps change, but he would not stray from Madara in any way.
The idea of children was a sometimes compelling one.
Two men could not have children, however, and he would not stray from the man he loved. The man he had struggled to get back to across the divide that had been thrown between them. There was nothing that could be done to take him from Madara’s side, now, and he loved his husband too much to choose the possibility of children over staying with him.
“Your next visitor is due soon,” Madara settled against the desk, his hand cupping Hashirama’s cheek. He pulled him in, kissing him deeply, breathing the same air as him. Hashirama tangled his hand in Madara’s mantle, pulling him closer, his eyes closing as he memorized the feeling of his husband against him. “Patience, Hashirama,” Madara whispered, pulling away. “Tonight.” He leaned back, his fingers sliding under Hashirama’s chin, tilting his head up to assess him. “Your next visitor will want to see you at your best. I would hate to muss your appearance too much.”
With a soft laugh, Madara retreated to his seat, sorting through the scrolls quietly.
They had agreed that Hashirama would take the seat of Hokage first – If, after five years, Madara wanted it, they would switch. The decision had been made that the village would need a steady leader for five years, time to get established. Constant change would make it difficult for the citizens to feel steady.
Hashirama smiled at Madara, proud of him, and got back to work.
A knock at the door came not too long later.
Setting down his pen, he called for them to enter. Tobirama led the way, a young woman following, a small entourage behind her. “Uzumaki Mito,” Tobirama announced. “From the village Uzushiogakure. She comes to seek an alliance between our villages.”
Hashirama looked at her, studying her carefully. “In what way, may I ask?”
“In a way that was suggested by your husband, Hokage-sama,” Mito-san smiled, her head bowed. “When I first wrote to seek out an alliance, I was told you had already married. While I admit to being disappointed to hear such news, I will congratulate you on the event. Over the years, having kept in touch, your husband and I have come up with another way to ally our villages.” She lifted her head. “I have no wish to marry or be a concubine. My father seeks to force my hand in marriage. If I were to have a connection to your village, to you and your husband, I would be able to skirt the issue entirely.”
Hashirama stared at her, unable to hide his shock. “…Madara?” he turned to look at him.
“How you look at children is obvious,” Madara answered, his chin in his palm. “And as I cannot provide such things, I have asked Mito-san if she would be willing to seal an alliance between our villages in such a way.”
“I cannot—”
“Which is where I would be involved,” Tobirama stepped forward. “I have had some success in assisting other couples when traditional methods of conception have not worked. You would not need to lie with her,” his smile was small, but reassuring. Hashirama stared at his brother, his heart hammering in his chest. “Madara asked us to keep it quiet until the time was right, but once he found out I was able to do so, he knew he could ask Mito-san if she would be willing.”
“And I have said yes,” Mito-san’s voice was steady. Unshakable. “I do not wish to be merely pushed around the board as a piece in my father’s game. If I am to align myself, it will be with whom I choose.”
She stepped forward, her hands pressed together before her. Her entourage stayed behind. “I have brought only my most loyal. A maid to ensure I am taken care of and a scribe to ensure I am useful even when I am heavy with your child. I intend to work throughout this,” her eyes were fierce, wild, and if he did not already love Madara, he could probably have loved her for it. “If you say no, then I will walk away, and we will find another way to ally our villages.”
A child between one of the strongest clans and Konohagakure?
What was more than that, a child he could raise with Madara, if he was understanding correctly. Mito-san would be involved as well, the child’s mother, but she was willing to give them a child.
“I…” Hashirama looked at Madara again. “May I speak with my husband for a moment?”
“Of course,” Mito-san nodded. She turned, taking her entourage with her. Tobirama retreated just outside the door.
Hashirama looked at Madara. “Will you truly be alright with this?”
“I will be alright with anything that will make you happy,” Madara looked at him, smiling in that way Hashirama knew meant he was thinking of him as his idiot. “You adore children, it is plain as day when you see them in the village. You play with them, you ask after them if you see their parents, and you remember their names. I cannot give you one, but I will not be grief-stricken like some useless waif in a novel. I will do something about it. My love,” he stood from his seat and returned to Hashirama’s side, his hands almost instinctually cupping his face. “If I can give it to you, I will. Your brother and his experiments have given you a way to have children without straying from me and without making me feel jealousy.”
Hashirama wrapped his hands around Madara’s wrists. “Do you want children?”
“I will admit, seeing some small creature with your eyes and strength has merit,” Madara laughed. “I want to raise a child with you, Hashirama. If this is not the way forward, then another way. Adopting a child will require finding one who has the need of it and also finding one that our village would not turn against should something go wrong.”
That was a good point.
If they adopted an outsider’s child, then perished in some fight, their adopted child might be turned against as an ill omen. Tajima would, perhaps, be able to protect them, but asking that of him would be unfair. He had survived for so long, through so much, and he should be able to enjoy his later years.
“You are certain of this?” Hashirama’s voice came out as a cracked whisper.
Madara looked at him, still cradling his face in his hands. “I love you, Hashirama. I want to raise a child with you. I am no less certain of this than I have been of everything else we have ever gone through,” his eyes were watering, Hashirama realized, his lips pressed together to stave off the tears. “So please, tell me,” he laughed, the sound drawn out in the way it got when he was nervous. “Are you?”
“I love you very much,” Hashirama stood, wrapping his arms around Madara. He leaned into his hands, brushing his lips against his palm. His gloves were on, today, but it did not matter. “I am certain of everything with you. I do want to raise a child with you. If Mito-san is willing, then I say yes.”
“Good,” Madara’s smile was stronger, now, his voice shaky. “Izuna can calm down about such things now. He caught wind of it from Tobirama’s letters with her and has been panicking since.”
Hashirama kissed him until he was breathless.
When they called Mito-san back in, giving her their answer, she smiled. One of the scrolls Madara had brought with him was an agreement, Hashirama found out, all three of them signing it quickly. They were due to begin working in less than a week.
They would have a child.
X
If he could describe his husband in one word, it would be determined.
Or, perhaps, hardheaded.
Tobirama laughed as he watched Izuna pacing, his hands behind his back. His brother may have started the protective force, but Izuna ran it with a sure and steady hand – the Uchiha Clan members who had joined up had been quickly joined by several Senju and, as the years had passed and their village had grown, more from other clans. Madara, Izuna, and Hashirama had struggled to name the force for protection, but Tobirama had cut in with a name: ANBU. An acronym, one he had explained to them in full, but one which everyone had quickly started to use to refer to the operation.
Madara had planted the seeds, but Izuna was the master of it all. He trained each operative, taught them to survive. At certain points, he turned them over to Tobirama for survival in the wilderness, taking them back once Tobirama marked them as successes.
A conjoined effort, one which saw him working with his husband on a daily basis.
It was only when he heard Izuna dismiss them that he walked up behind him, pulling him against his chest and burying his face in his neck. “Mito-san arrived today. My brother has said yes to her proposition,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses to the skin usually hidden under a high collar. Izuna had worn his training gear, however, and his neck had a sliver of skin exposed. The hood that had become a part of the uniform was pulled down, his mask pulled to the crown of his head.
“Oh?” Izuna’s voice was tinged with laughter as he turned in Tobirama’s arms, his hands coming up to slide across his chest and shoulders. His arms wrapped around him, the weight of his body against Tobirama’s settling something wild in his chest. “That is good, then.”
He stayed there for a while, nestled comfortably against Tobirama.
The world had changed around them.
Seven years had done so much for their lives. Between the peace treaty and the end of the war, their safety had fallen into place. From there, Madara and Hashirama were able to follow through on their engagement the next Spring, giving time for things to settle and for both clans to get used to the changes. A year and a half later, Tobirama had managed to beat Izuna to proposing – though Izuna had prepared a necklace for Tobirama, Tobirama had presented one to him first.
Their wedding had taken place in Autumn that same year. Tajima had been there to witness it, smiling as he watched his youngest son be married.
Akane-san had stood in as Tobirama’s family alongside Hashirama. There had been some who had questioned it, but none who had said any bad words to her or to either of them about her presence. She had stood proudly at his side for the ceremony, her hands folded gently in front of her as she witnessed it.
Pulling himself from his memories, Tobirama sighed, playing with Izuna’s hair. The strands were silky and soft, running through his fingers like liquid.
His husband was hot against him, always a reassurance that he was alive and well.
“I was thinking,” Izuna’s mouth tickled against his neck, his head rolling to the side until he could look up at Tobirama. “About children.”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” Izuna nodded, the movement short and stuttering. “One of your students is an Uchiha. A young one. Kagami.” He paused, holding his breath. “One of the war orphans, passed around from home to home in our clan.” His hand drew away, his fingers coming to play across Tobirama’s chest – one of the few tells he had to give away that he was nervous. Tobirama knew his husband well, knew when Izuna was trying to speak around an issue and get into something without letting someone know what he was worried about.
He let him continue.
“We would have been considered too young, before,” Izuna looked up from beneath his lashes. “Too unsettled, too new in our marriage and our positions,” he stopped, biting his lip – nervous, nervous, nervous. Every action spoke to that truth. “He would have been an infant when the peace treaty was signed.”
“Are you asking me to do the same thing your brother is asking mine?” Tobirama watched as Izuna’s cheeks colored, his eyes widening.
“Not the exact same thing!” Izuna defended, his shoulders rising up to hide his face. “I simply meant – he is your student, so I know already that you are fond of him. He is my cousin, so I know that I am fond of him. I do not wish to create a new life to raise, simply to give permanent shelter and home to one that is already here,” he looked away. “But if you do not wish to do so—”
“Izuna, I would love to do so.”
Tobirama got to watch, up close, as Izuna turned to face him again. His cheeks were flushed, his dark eyes wide, and his soft lips parted on a breath. “Oh?”
“As you have said, he is my student. I am fond of him,” Tobirama nodded, pulling his husband closer. “I want to see him succeed. I want to see him happy.” He pressed his forehead against Izuna’s, sighing in contentment. “More than anything, I want to see you happy as well.” He laughed when Izuna launched himself off the ground, Tobirama having to spin to keep the momentum from taking them both down. His arms were full of Izuna, but he could not have cared less.
This was his life, and he had fought for it. He had chosen it every step of the way.
From going against his lifelong training and secret meetings to a wedding that would have had his father spinning in his grave, Tobirama had chosen this life.
Gathering Izuna up, bundling him in his arms, Tobirama checked to make sure he would not be leaving anything behind. Izuna laughed, a few steps ahead of him as he held up his bag, his arms curled around Tobirama’s neck again. His legs were over his arm, his body lax in his hold, and Tobirama relished the warmth of him as he took them home.
He set Izuna down on one of their seats, heading into the kitchen to make tea. “Since we are to do this,” he called out. “What do we need to do?”
“Present our case to the Uchiha Clan,” Izuna called back. “Explain that we are both willing and able to provide a good life for Kagami, beyond just his training. The argument before was that we were too young, too unstable, and our positions were too new. Since Konohagakure has been settled for a few years now, we have been settled as well.” A moment of silence, then: “And we will have that on our side, especially since our positions are high up.”
Tobirama nodded, a smile curling his lips up at the edges.
A different way of having a child, but one that was no lesser than his brother’s path. Kagami needed a family, it seemed.
He and Izuna could be that family, if Kagami wished.
When their tea was ready, Tobirama gathered it up and took it back to Izuna. He set the cup down in front of him, then sat next to him. “We have the space,” he glanced down the hall to where the unused bedroom stood, prepared for guests but rarely entered. If necessary, they usually stayed at Hashirama and Madara’s home. “And our jobs keep us home, often.”
Izuna went on missions more often than Tobirama did, but he usually stayed to oversee training.
“We do,” Izuna agreed. “And often, yes.”
“I will speak to Kagami, then,” Tobirama watched as Izuna smiled, bright and unreserved. “Tomorrow morning.”
The future had always brought a new way of surprising him.
Tobirama leaned into Izuna, their hands fitting together.
He hoped it never stopped.