Chapter 2.1

The entrance to the settlement was met, as always, quietly. Powerful wooden beams supported the canopy, on which "Senju" was proudly inscribed.

They say that when the clan increased, the people did not move the gates aside, respecting the talent of previous generations, but only went deeper into the forest. There were people who believed that mokuto began to appear rarely in the family, since Inari (— the god of fertility) cursed Senju for entering his domain, they only spoiled the soil, trees, despite their kekkei genkai.

Tobirama did not believe in the rumors that were circulating around the settlement. On the other hand, he did not believe in everything that could not be seen and proved, which, however, did not prevent him from believing in Pure Lands, on which his brothers would surely frolic.

The Senju were generally known for the fact that, coming from "ordinary" people, they did not have their own traditions, stealing them from other clans. Sometimes it seemed that if Senju lived for another century, they would disappear into the endless stream of people, fade out like a fire that a passerby accidentally blew out.

But they had something "of their own": mokuton, so if Senju also had traditions created by them, it was necessarily connected with kekkei genkai.

For example, every time a mokuto user was born, on his Seijin-no-Hi (— coming of age day, celebrated on the second Monday of January), all representatives of the clan gathered and loudly celebrated this day, at the end of which, as a result, a Cryptomeria tree was erected at the gates of the settlement (— a sacred tree in Japan). Hashirama was so excited then that he erected a really huge tree that took up a lot of space, which is why everyone who entered the settlement had to take exactly six wide steps (- the symbol 六, meaning six in Japanese is considered lucky, since the scattering sticks mean "expanding future"), which the clan took very well.

Having treated the heir with respect before, they almost worshipped him now. If Tobirama had had a glimpse of the idea of killing Aniju in order to get the reins of government, having received the vile title of "fratricide", then he would still have failed: the clan was too wayward and within a year or three would probably have staged a mutiny, and this is not to mention that Hashirama is still considered The God of Shinobi.

In Tobirama's memory, it was one of the few times when otho-san was proud of one of his sons, although sometimes it seemed almost impossible to deserve this satisfied smile, Hashirama still worked miracles, he never even claimed such praise: he was disliked from childhood.

Many then, looking at the tree, reasoned what it would be worth blooming. The branches were already spreading far, far away, as if covering the entrance to the settlement, hiding in the shadows.

Passing by Aniji's brainchild, Tobirama felt as if he was darkening the tree with every step, forcing the rot from himself to rush along the roots up the trunk, onto the crown and down to the leaves, causing it to blacken and fall off.

The evening was already in full swing on the street, the weather promised a second downpour, it seemed that the shadow was not a shadow at all, but rotting dirt stuck to the back after that day.

The main house was located deep in the settlement, so Tobirama, before fully entering the village, used the henge again, not wanting to please everyone with his appearance.

Matiya (— houses of urban peasants) they were built very close to each other, but it still looked presentable. Long wooden houses in some places were full of bright signs — shops that had been operated for generations. But, despite the fact that some members of the clan were born into families of artisans, after the ascension to the throne of the current head, an order was issued that obliged everyone, starting at the age of ten, to have a military education, so there were no ordinary peasants in the settlement, because each of them, first of all, is a shinobi and only then — a fisherman, a cook or a weaver.

Trying to walk smoothly, Tobirama entered the manor. It is noteworthy that each clan's houses were decorated in their own color scheme. Senju differed in that they did not shout about their position, preferring first of all practicality and only after beauty, which could not be said about the same Yamanaka with their colorful estates made in blue and purple tones. Sometimes it seemed to Tobirama that the main reason was not "convenience", as otou-san justified, but that most clans were descended from nobles, that is, samurai, and Senju, in turn, had no connection with the imperial family and did not know what "luxury" was.

Pushing aside the decorated Amado (— external sliding door), Tobirama entered. Taking off his shoes in the genkan (—hallway), he quickly thought over the report that would later be dictated to otho-san. The prepared text ran through my head: "The mission was successfully completed", "There are no complications", "The customer is satisfied".

After walking down a corridor decorated with frescoes and vases that kaa-san loved to collect, he stopped in front of Shojo (— sliding door).

What if Otho-san knows something? Suddenly, in the couple of hours that he got here, the news of the massacre in Akita reached the head of the clan? Maybe the father is already asleep? Surely this is so, we should report back tomorrow.

Preparing to turn around and go towards the bedroom, he suddenly came to his senses. Cowardice was not characteristic of Tobirama, even in front of otho-san, but now suspicions were chilling inside, however, despite this, it was necessary to meet his father face to face.

— Come in, — a rough, low voice came from the other side. Damn, how could Tobirama forget that shoji are transparent? His shadow is probably visible from that side. He probably looked stupid, on the other hand, his father might have thought that Tobirama was too polite and simply did not want to enter without permission, or maybe he just did not pay attention to it.

Pushing the shoji aside, Tobirama quietly entered the room. Opposite him was a massive table at which Senju Butsuma, the head of the clan, his father, sat proudly. The shadow of otho-san towered, although no one knew if it was because Tobirama was looking at the floor or if the moon was shining from the right angle.

But the shadow was too big. Carefully looking up, the younger Senju saw his brother standing behind his father's right shoulder. Apparently, today Aniju was taught what it's like to be a head.

These lessons began immediately after the death of Kawarama, who was his father's favorite for an unknown reason. At the same time, Kawarama was a complete copy of his mother, but it seemed to Tobirama that this was too stupid a reason, since their parents probably did not love each other, if memory did not change: oka-san always hugged the younger ones to her, as if trying to hide behind her body, distract attention from them, it was worthSanu go into the room.

My father did not plan to give up his post in the near future, however, despite his stubbornness, he still understood that it would not be possible to live long during the war.

It became much more uncomfortable when Tobirama noticed his brother. He was already used to the disappointed look of his father, who was never satisfied with his second son, but the prospect that his dear brother would look with bitter pain in his eyes, chagrin, was simply unbearable. So, you can't pretend that something is wrong.

Having rammed through the prepared report in advance, Tobirama rustled along the sides in search of the scroll in which this report is documented, but turned pale when he realized that he could not find it.

A small bundle of light-colored paper, bordered with red on top, had recently been lying in his bosom, securely fastened with a seal created by Tobirama, but already now he could not find it in any way, each time bumping into only a bruise that had been recently placed.

Did he really drop it? Absent-mindedness was frightening: it wasn't enough that he didn't feel his brother's chakra, so he also lost the scroll? What was happening to him?

If there is no report, then where is the gift? The hand reached up the thigh, to the bag. Rummaging inside, he realized that all that was left there was just a little bit of tea leaves. Apparently, the tea was spilled.

A picture appeared before my eyes: while <i>he</i> was roughly pulling down his pants, it is quite possible that the tea woke up, and remained somewhere there, far away, on the floor.

On the other hand, it was impossible to lose the documents: what if something important was written in them. Tobirama himself insisted not only that the documentation be kept a priori, but also that it be filled out in the proper form.

— Is something wrong? — Raising his eyes, previously hidden behind thick eyebrows, otho-san looked with open irritation, not understanding what was going on. Hashirama, on the other hand, looked at him with bewilderment: what is it? Why is his brother acting so weird? Why does he hide his gaze?

The panic only grew, preventing Tobirama from speaking. Father knows for sure. He knows everything. And Anija knows, and the Council, and the whole clan. It became harder to breathe, the heart squeezed, but the lungs aggressively pumped oxygen back and forth, expanding and narrowing, driving fear with a poisonous liquid through the veins.

The near future was already visible before his eyes: now he would be expelled from the clan by carving the sign of Senju on his back. He will run away, shamefully lowering his head, into the forest, without sorting out the road and will die like that, alone and in the cold, or maybe the Uchiha will track him down and, alert, send him to the head of the clan, and there he will surely appear <i>he</i>and then...

— Answer me! — Unable to stand the silence, Butsuma hit the table with his palm, which caused the scrolls lying there to immediately jump, spinning to the side, almost falling.

Tobirama shuddered, his eyes darted around the room. The words wouldn't come out of my throat, stuck somewhere in the middle. The shadows became longer, pressing with their blackness.

Hashirama was about to ask something, but froze, glaring at his ototo. In the dim candlelight, tears glistened, trickling down Tobirama's cheeks. Shock pierced the body, misunderstanding of what was happening was pounding in his head, demanding explanations, but what confused Hashirama in the end was what happened next:

— The mission was successful, there were no complications, the customer was satisfied, — intermittently repeating his report, Tobirama began to restrain crying, which crept up from the rear, disgracing his.

It seemed to Hashirama that, even from behind, he could see his father starting to blush. Is it from anger, from confusion? It became clear that this would not end well, something had to be thought out before Otho-san did something irreparable.

Attention was drawn to the scroll that was on the verge of falling. The sound will definitely distract the father, it remains to figure out how to do it.

The desk was made of wood, like everything else in this room. The patterns neatly rarely bordered it, telling their story.

Hashirama should have somehow pushed someone's report, which he immediately started. Maybe otho-san won't even notice the small sprout with which he wanted to carry out the venture.

Throwing a fleeting glance at his younger brother, Senju was struck by his face, which for the first time in his memory was so distorted by fear, getting closer to drowning in tears with every second. Did the accidentally lost report really hurt the younger brother so much?

Carefully growing a sprout of a random flower and starting to push the scroll aside, Hashirama took a step out of his father's shadow.

The roar hit the room, causing Butsuma to abruptly shift his gaze towards the cause of the noise, and Tobiramu to flinch. Then the heir of the clan realized that it was time to declare himself:

— Father, I see you are busy, — speaking deliberately grandiloquently, Hashirama stood in front of otho-san, blocking Tobirama, who quickly began to wipe the tracks of tears. — I'll calm Ototo down and then we can figure out what happened. — A seductive smile stretched across his face.

Butsuma had no need to pry something out of his current younger son, he could have been punished later, since there are so many things to do now.

After allowing them to leave the room, the head of the clan was reaching for the fallen scroll, but noticed a small ivy flower (ivy is an unlucky plant according to legend) growing modestly from a small crack in the table. The already furrowed brows sank even lower.

A bitter sigh escaped from his chest. Hashirama has recently begun to behave more brazenly, feeling permissiveness. It was impossible to allow the eldest son to come up with something against his own father. On the other hand, it was not possible to influence him in any way, since he is no longer a child and simply scolding will not work.

The image of the second son — Tobirama — who had just shamefully shown his weakness surfaced in his head. The eternal disappointment of the parent. On the other hand, the brothers were friendly, so it was worth "hammering" some opinion into one, then the other was connected automatically.

It is decided that the punishment will be not only for the cause, but also just for prevention.

At the same time, Hashirama was dragging Tobirama, tightly clutching Haori's sleeve, into a private room, not risking speaking because, firstly, the younger one still could not calm down - whose convulsive sobs could still be heard and, secondly, because the walls still had ears that pricked up with interest.

The path, which seemed short before, now stretched many ri ahead (1 ri = 3.9 kilometers = 2.42 miles), as Tobirama seemed to resist his brother. More than once throwing a questioning glance, Hashirama continued to push, while the younger one, who could not even pronounce words, stuttered and was stubborn.

Rudely pushing shoji aside, the elder literally pushed his brother, forcing him to sit on soft pillows, hiding him behind the door faster. Tobirama lowered his gaze, this time not because salt water was running down his face. The real reason was unknown to Hashirama, which he immediately began to correct:

— Tobirama, what are you doing? — hearing the soft voice of the elder brother, the above-mentioned began to feel only worse. Yes, they all knew. They knew, for sure, in every detail. It was strange that Anija continued to behave so kindly, but he had always been like that, so Tobirama should confess right now.

Opening his mouth to say something, the younger one stopped, which caused only a wheeze to escape from his throat. This brought Hashirama to the end, who was getting more and more worried by the second.

Trying to ask something again, the heir felt something strange in his younger brother's chakra. Some kind of change that was not present before. Understanding dawned on his mind.

— Tobirama, drop the henge. — Hashirama demanded in a stern voice. Questions flooded my head, threatening to spill out through my ears. What happened on the mission, since his otto was ashamed to appear before his father?

In the Shinobi world, unlike samurai, it was not considered shameful to return with wounds. Scars are another matter. On the one hand, this is evidence of the long difficult path of a warrior, on the other — proof that a warrior is not so experienced. Whatever it was, all sorts of subtleties never worried Tobirama.

But something has changed.

Several minutes of silence passed, and Hashirama did not wait for a response from his brother. Already opening his mouth to repeat the half-order, he stopped.

Tobirama, previously weak-willed, took a deep breath. There's nothing left to lose.

Henge was dropped with a small "fluff", during which the body was hidden for a second behind a white fog.

The brown-haired man's eyes opened wide. The injuries of the younger brother were atypical for the specifics of the task, they were atypical for Shinobi a priori: purple bruises surrounded the wrists, and there was a bite corner on the neck — tooth marks were bleeding, not hidden by a bandage.

— Ototo, you... — Hashirama couldn't find the words, shocked by the view.

Tobirama twitched. What kind of reaction is this? Didn't Anijah know?

A shiver shot through his body, running through his back like sharp needles. He could have hidden the fact of shame, but instead openly demonstrated his dirty, vicious body.

With a bang, dropping his hands to the floor, putting his head to his palms, he began to apologize. It was still difficult to speak, the incomprehensible state did not want to let go, so Tobirama began to continue constantly interrupting.

— I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, — a loud whisper echoed through the room, deafening. Like the flow of a stormy river, the words poured out without ending — I'm sorry, I don't deserve it–

Hashirama was in deep shock. Considering the wounds on his brother's body, his words... Really?

— Stop, Tora, stop, — putting his hands on ototo's shoulders, he tried to straighten him, make him look into his eyes, but it didn't work out: if his brother got something in his head, it would be difficult to convince him later.

— According to the laws of the clan, I must be expelled, — Tobirama said very quietly. — Therefore, I dare not look into the eyes of the heir — remained unspoken. With each word, the wounds on the corners of the lips, which appeared because of the gag, irritated only more, making it difficult to speak.

The brown-haired man turned pale, the color of his skin resembling his brother. The prospect of losing the last otto scared the hell out of me.

— Everything will be fine, — trying to calm either himself or Tobiram, Hashirama did not lose attempts to support, — Come on, look at me, — gently lifting his brother's face, he looked into his eyes, trying to convey all his feelings. — You must be tired? Come on, I'll help you bathe, and then we'll fall asleep. Like when I was a kid, remember? — Firmly grabbing his wrist and immediately quickly pulling his hand away, it was worth remembering that he had bruises there, the brown-haired man decided not to touch his brother's body at all, so as not to cause pain once again, he began to slowly rise, but still eventually stretched out his hand so that Tobirama could grab it.

What he didn't do. Rising on stiff legs, Tobirama stood a little apart from his Aniji, completely obeying his decisions, which was very frightening.

The way to the bathroom did not take much time: Hashirama, trying to abstract himself, quickly walked in the right direction. It was only when he stood in front of shoji that he realized that Ototo was far behind.

I wanted to slap myself in the face with all my might. How could he forget that his precious little brother was experiencing pain in his legs? The cause of this discomfort loomed somewhere on the periphery, insistently shouting, reminding of itself.

The man who did this to Tobirama was definitely not a civilian. An ordinary peasant could not have inflicted such bruises, in the light of a candle, which were frightening with their rich shade of purple.

Shinobi? But which one? In the Senju clan, his ototo stood second in strength, second only to Hashirama. This person is definitely from another clan.

Having discarded gloomy thoughts, the brown-haired man decided to focus all his attention completely on his younger brother, who was just now approaching the entrance to the bath.

Carefully pushing the door open, the Senju brothers entered the room, which was separated into small rooms by fusuma.

Hashirama only now remembered that he had completely forgotten to take towels and a change of clothes in this fuss. After telling Tobirama to change, he quickly went back to the rooms.

The heir of the clan did not know what to do in this situation. He was so confused that from time to time he accelerated, then slowed down.

Tobirama's room was greeted with cold pragmatism, as befits its owner. All the things were stacked in their places, not a speck of dust was reflected in the moonlight. The only thing that spoiled the whole atmosphere of the room was the desktop.

Tobirama had a disgusting — according to him —habit of frantically sorting through papers during inspiration, trying to find a clean one. He often complained that at the right moment in their house, all the scrolls "magically" disappear, although there is always enough wood, hinting at Hashirama. I remembered the reason why his brother was so unhappy with the mission.

That day, otho-san wanted to see his youngest son too much, who hid so well that neither the servants nor Hashiram could find him. Many have already considered that he left, abandoned the clan, no matter how maximalistic it may sound, but — no.

Tobirama was eventually found in the laboratory. When he was very young, he found an old building, an extension to their house, which had not been used for a long time. The reason was unknown, but the younger one was so impressed with the idea of having something of his own that he persuaded Otho-san that if he could equip the room and not create problems at the same time, he would be able to use it to his advantage. Of course, the "contract" sounded far from it, demanding much more from the younger than just cleaning the room, but both sides were satisfied in the end.

Tobirama liked to stay in <i>his</i> room, so sometimes he could not be reached.

At that time, he seemed to be on the verge of discovering something incredible, so the fact that he was distracted was very annoying.

Anyway, not daring to express dissatisfaction, Tobirama agreed to the task, wanting to return as soon as possible, promising Anija the day before that he would close in his laboratory for a day or three, half joking.

Grabbing his clothes, Hashirama was distracted from his memories, returning at a brisk pace.

Opening the shoji wider, he saw that Tobirama was already sitting in the ofuro, sinking up to his shoulders. Apparently, ototo had already doused himself with water, so he had already climbed into the tub. Did he want to hide his body like that?

— Well, how do you like some water? Smiling cheerfully, Hashirama began massaging his brother's shoulders, trying not to look at the ugly bite, at the same time starting to heal. The water was clear and did not hide the many bruises all over the body, ugly blooming on the arms, thighs and ribs.

In response, Tobirama muttered something, but due to the fact that he plunged too deep into the water, bubbles formed, which made the brothers laugh, forcing a slight smile.

If we abstract from what was happening right now, then we really remembered their childhood, when they were very young, sitting together in the ofuro and frolicking.

Many years have passed since then and Hashirama could not remember the last time he was so close to Tobirama. When did they manage to move away from each other?

It was worth the younger's shoulders to fall, to let go of negative emotions, as Hashirama realized that it was possible to get out of ofuro.

Tobirama probably noticed that there were no more bruises left, as well as the rest of the marks, but he did not comment on it in any way. Was he satisfied?

It seemed to the brown-haired man that every year it was more and more difficult to understand his ototo. Since childhood, he expressed his emotions poorly, and with age he could not train his communication skills, so in their pair, Hashirama played the role of the most talkative.

Tobirama understood that he was still not ready for bed, but he could not figure out how to hint this to his brother. Surely Anija is already planning their joint dream, "as in childhood," and does not mind that his dear otto's hand will not rise to lie next to him, for fear of defaming his dirty, sinful body.

At some point it became clear that he was annoyed by Aniji's kindness. He should be hated. Despise. And definitely not gently massage the shoulders.

A sharp wave of contemptible anger rose from the coccyx down to the ends of the hair: I wanted to disappoint my older brother in the end, so that he realized that Tobirama is a disgusting brother, that he has long fallen in the hierarchy, that he is the worst thing that has happened in life.

A terrible memory just popped up in my mind: <i>he</i> had finished inside.

Tobirama must be prolific. It won't be surprising if a new life is already emerging inside him right now.

Yes, surely this fact would have forced Hashirama to open his eyes to the real essence of Tobirama. It remains only to be able to say it out loud.

Just thinking about how someone else's sperm was flowing inside caused an ephemeral feeling that somewhere there, deep down, it was still slowly flowing down the anal canal, threatening to stain the water in which Tobirama was basking now. I wanted to shake off this feeling, shrug my shoulders, throw off the illusion, but Anija was still standing behind me, carefully applying lotion to his hair.

Taking as much oxygen as possible into his lungs, Tobirama decided to take this step and said:

— I remembered that he, — the pictures-memories quickly replaced each other, forcing the heart to beat faster. Here <i>he</i> squeezes tighter in his arms, loses the rhythm, driving the penis deeper. It was almost unbearable to pronounce that vulgar word, but it was necessary in order to force Aniju to understand, not necessarily to forgive, — he finished in me. I'm afraid I might have gotten pregnant. —Tobirama said almost in a whisper, as if passing judgment on himself.

As soon as he felt that Hashirama froze, it began to seem that the water, from which — he saw — steam was coming, could freeze in the next second, like his insides.

— Well, you don't know for sure, do you? — it was heard somewhere behind. It was impossible to understand from the voice how Anija felt, but he continued his movements, — Do you want us to go to our library and find out what and how? — Tobirama noticed that the brown-haired man constantly addressed a certain question, unsure of ototo's reaction.

Nodding weakly, they began to pack. Tobirama did not pay attention to the condition of his body, quickly wrapping up his kimono, and headed after his brother.

The road to the Senju clan's private library turned out to be gloomy. This road was rarely used, it seemed that even the servants did not clean, because of which they probably should have been reproached.

The door to the room was not sliding, on the contrary, it opened inward. Huge doors, painted by the master, proudly welcomed visitors. The interior was admired for its grandiosity: even the shelves screamed about the status.

Ignoring this, Hashirama headed forward, probably not even knowing where and what to look for.

— I never thought that I would come here on my own, — an awkward attempt to joke only worsened the atmosphere, which is why the brown-haired man immediately regretted opening his mouth.

Tobirama, unlike his brother, knew where to go. Confidently passing through numerous shelves, he was heading straight for his goal.

Turning the corner, the brothers found themselves in an inconspicuous corner hidden by others. Having figured out what was what, Hashirama actively began to read the spines to find the right book.

A loud cry of joy erupted throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and turning into an echo. Tobirama barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes at the childish behavior of his older brother, but he could, because right now he is not the younger brother heir, but just dirt under the feet of the Shinobi God.

Grabbing Tobirama by the hand, Hashirama forced him to sit next to him, opening a battered, thin book called "THE LEGEND OF THE SACRED. WHERE DO HEROES COME FROM?", which sounded more like cheap novels that were sold in cities than an ancient relic of the clan.

It was nice to sit next to my brother, reading together. During the war, such moments of reunion were rare, no one could boast of a warm relationship that arose not just because of blood kinship, but also due to a long time together, during which some personal jokes or secrets could appear.

A single candle somehow illuminated the pages, forcing Hashirama and Tobirama to snuggle closer in order to see the small hieroglyphs that fit snugly together. The author of this fiction justified the title of the book, describing everything in frivolous turns of speech. The whole text was written too superficially, without giving specific answers to the questions posed, sometimes focusing too much attention on things that are not important at all. Although, maybe later it may seem very important on the contrary.

Anyway, the way to understand whether a man was in a position was only at the end, although it would be more expedient to write it at the very beginning.

The legend said that the now living owner of mokuto should create a special piece of paper. It would be good if the papyrus was big enough to fit in the palm of his hand, but Tobirama was sure that his Anija could create a whole canvas of special paper if he wanted.

It was assumed that training was necessary to create something like this, but Hashirama, after reading the course of the technique, had already begun trying to create a test.

Concentrating, he folded his hands into a tiger, a snake, a sheep and a dog. The specifics were that in order to use the technique, it was necessary to focus not in the inner, but in the outer world, that is, to use the Yang element, which was difficult, since the Senju clan was known for using mainly the Yin element.

There was no blinding light, loud bang or anything like that, just because Hashirama did not succeed. Concentrating, he tried again.

At this moment, Tobirama had the idea that the Uchiha use the Yang element while creating their illusions. A bitter shiver went through his whole body, making him shudder. This clan doesn't stop chasing him.

When he came to his senses, he noticed that Aniji had not been able to do anything so far, which is not surprising — it is always difficult to work in a new field for himself. Deciding not to interfere, Tobirama got up and went to the shoji that replaced the fourth wall in the library. Pushing it away, he sat down on the engava.

It's amazing what kind of view opened up in front of him. The garden, which had probably not been cared for for decades, grew of its own volition, which was much more attractive than others. The trees that grew here and there without permission spread their branches in all directions, almost touching the roof of the estate.

The place was quiet, peaceful. If Tobirama had known about it, he would never have had the idea to create a laboratory: why, if you can, without rebuilding the house, just go to the library.

It's strange that he didn't find this place before. Tobirama loved to read since childhood, so why didn't he go to his personal library, being content with the one that was southwest of the house? Was he forbidden? He didn't remember anything like that.

Abruptly pushing the shoji away, for the umpteenth time this evening, Hashirama loudly sat down next to him. Opening his palm, he showed three thick pieces of paper that do not have a uniform color. "Not bad for a beginner," Tobirama thought.

— Do you remember how in childhood we learned our element? It's the same here! You send the chakra and see what happened, — babbling what Tobirama already knew, Hashirama enthusiastically looked eye to eye.

— And what should happen? — skepticism did not leave his gut. The fact that as soon as Anija saw the way to create the test, he immediately snatched the book out of his hands was very unnerving, since Tobirama did not have time to finish reading what, in fact, was going to happen.

— Well... It's unclear, — came from Hashirama's side. Realizing that such an answer clearly did not satisfy his brother, he continued, — If there is something, you will immediately understand! he added hastily. — Not wanting to delay, the brown-haired man forcibly put the piece of paper into Tobirama's hands.

Tobirama, realizing that this was the moment of truth, felt nervous. The head was visited by a variety of thoughts: "It would be nice to drink tea here", "Somewhere nearby a stream murmurs, probably covered in mud."

Taking a deep breath, he squeezed the paper in his hands, crumpled it, and let the chakra, which habitually ran through the channels, cooling. The element of water was constantly cooling down, causing the body temperature to drop, so Tobirama was constantly freezing.

Gradually, as the chakra entered the sheet, the more actively blue lines appeared on the paper, intertwining and tearing, sloppy and sharp.

It was only when he saw the material proof that Tobirama was in a position that he realized what was really going on.

From the book I have just read, it became known that it is impossible to get rid of the child carried by the blessed one, primarily because no one has even tried.

Roughly crumpling the paper in his hand, Tobirama lowered his head lower, hiding. Now it was not possible to expel him from the clan, but this did not negate the fact that from now on he would be treated differently in the clan. What about the baby? What awaits them after birth? Even if they is not recognized as legitimate, they will not be able to live in the same house with at least one parent.

— This is a mistake. — Tobirama said hoarsely, not believing what was happening. — Give me another one, — bitter anger began to seethe all over his body, but Hashirama, noticing his brother's condition, only kept silent, putting in a new piece of paper.

This time the process did not take much time, but the result remained the same: intricate lines of heavenly color.

Hands began to shake, treacherous tears welled up again. It seemed to Tobirama that over the past two days he had shamefully sobbed even more often than in infancy, which he was not proud of at all now.

— Tora, it's a miracle! Did you know that these patterns can be interpreted? — Hashirama exclaimed happily. It seems that he was really delighted with what was happening, so he hurried to explain, — There have been no blessed ones in our clan for so long! Oto-san will be thrilled. It's so! So!-

The joyful flow was rudely interrupted by Tobirama, on whose cheeks the tracks of tears glistened all over.

— You don't understand! You... You just live in some nonexistent world and, — intermittent sobs prevented him from speaking, he was choking and could not find the right words.

Hashirama did not understand such a reaction: how can one regret the imminent birth of a child? Children are the flowers of life, and brown—haired understood this. But why didn't Ototo share the same opinion?

— Ototo, I understand that the child was born incorrectly, but that doesn't mean-

— You don't understand anything! — the voice broke in a scream, it was incredibly insulting that Anija calls him "ototo" only when she wants to calm him down.

It seemed to Hashirama that his brother was not at all his own. Surely he was attacked by some kind of illness, his Tobirama would never have been angry at an unborn child.

The situation was heating up, it was necessary to do something. Gently grabbing his younger brother and putting his hands on his cheeks, Hashirama looked into his eyes, which were convulsively shaking in panic.

— Ototo, — he said softly. This did not help, Tobirama began to struggle, but Hashirama could not stand the resistance, squeezing his brother's face harder. Trying to reach him, he leaned closer and closer, assuming that eye contact would help. Realizing that this was not the case, he decided on a desperate act.

His right hand dropped a little lower, touching the skin very slightly, superficially, but in the next second Tobirama was already hanging limply in the hands of his Aniji.

Hashirama was ashamed to do this, his brother did not deserve it, but his condition was frightening. Did the man who raped Tobirama bring some kind of disease? Yes, most likely it is, the younger brother has always loved children.

It was absolutely necessary to tell Otho-san about what had happened! He would definitely be pleased that he would soon become oji-san, but it was impossible to allow the training to start too early, otherwise Hashirama would not be able to receive the honorary title of "the best oji-san in the world".

Until then, it was worth taking Tobiram to his room, covering him with a blanket from head to toe so that he would not get sick and take care-take care-take care so that his nephew was born healthy. For some reason, Hashirama was sure that the child was necessarily a boy.