everything in its right place
AUTHOR: kasarin (
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kasarin/FANDOM: Naruto
RATING: Teen and Up
CHARACTERS: Senju Tobirama, Senju Hashirama, Senju Butsuma, Uchiha Madara
RELATIONSHIPS: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama
TAGS: Character Study, Canon Compliant, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Repression, Emotionally Repressed
SUMMARY:
Tobirama knows his place.
Tobirama knows his place.
Born into a shinobi clan, his role is self-evident: to learn, become, and survive. His emotions are impediments, vulnerabilities an enemy will exploit. So he learns to hide them; he becomes stone-faced and severe, a child exercising more self-control than most adults.
But concealment doesn't mean he is devoid of emotions. He feels for his brothers; he loves them and knows his place with them. As the second-eldest, he acts as the bridge between his siblings and their father, who would sooner see them dead than useless.
Tobirama doesn't want his brothers to die. So he coaches the younger ones, trying to teach them the importance of controlling their tempers. He placates their father when things go wrong, stepping between his idealistic elder brother, Hashirama, and their father's fists. He knows his place. He plays his part. He does his best.
His younger brothers still die.
Tobirama's role changes, then. He is a bridge stripped of all but one support, teetering dangerously on the edge of toppling. Still, he remembers his lessons, keeping his face a perfectly blank mask. He does as he's told. He performs his duties. He allows his father to use him against Hashirama, convincing himself that it's for his brother's own good. After all, Hashirama is confused, and this will help Hashirama remember where he belongs.
Then his father almost lets him die, all because attacking an enemy is more important than defending a son.
(What's most surprising to Tobirama is that he is surprised at all.)
Hashirama saves him, deflecting what would have been a mortal blow. And as Tobirama looks at his brother's back, watching as Hashirama stands between him and the Uchiha, Tobirama feels his teetering cease. He may have lost all but one support, but he still has that one. He still has Hashirama. He still knows where he belongs.
So Tobirama presses on, supporting his brother. That's his place. He acts as a buffer for Hashirama's moods; he listens without scoffing as Hashirama details impossible dreams; he makes realistic plans out of Hashirama's nonsense. He tells his brother that an alliance with the Uchiha is improbable, but only when no one else can hear them speak.
After all, Tobirama knows his place.
When their father dies, Tobirama sheds no tears. Hashirama doesn't cry, either. Somehow, that comes as no surprise. Maybe they've spent enough time crying over their father, choking back tears or spilling them in hot, angry sobs. Either way, it doesn't really matter. Their father wouldn't have wanted tears, anyway.
Hashirama does cry when Madara—the new leader of the Uchiha—rebuffs an offer of peace. Tobirama thinks they're frustrated tears, but sometimes, he has difficulty differentiating. So he closes the doors and windows, then sits at his brother's side, rubbing Hashirama's back while his elder brother cries his feelings out.
Sometimes, Tobirama wonders how Hashirama can still cry. He wonders how Hashirama can laugh, loud and jovial, as though he has nothing to hide. He wonders how the other adults in their clan manage to show their happiness and anger, their love and sorrow. How did they survive to adulthood without wearing an emotionless mask? Why is Tobirama alone unable to remove his?
He kills Madara's younger brother in combat. He thinks he ought to feel victorious or be wary of Madara's wrath. But unsurprisingly, it rolls off his shoulders. It was kill or be killed, and Tobirama chose to kill.
He is a shinobi. He knows his place.
Still, he can't help but recoil when Madara tries to convince his brother to murder him. His disgust turns to terror when Hashirama moves to kill himself instead. Tobirama's mask freezes, jaw locked against the words that want to spill out, a lifetime of repression turning to suffocation. He wants to scream. He wants to plead. He wants to murder Madara. He wants to do something, anything.
Madara doesn't make Hashirama go through with it. But Tobirama isn't blind. He knows that if the blade had been at Tobirama's throat instead of Hashirama's, Madara would have done nothing but watch.
Tobirama knows his place with Madara, just as he knows his place everywhere else.
Hashirama gets his village, and Tobirama prevents his brother from making a disaster of it. Madara leaves, which comes as a relief to Tobirama. Life is slightly less stressful without having to constantly watch his back, wary of a vengeful blade. Hashirama gives him stress enough, clinging to idealistic dreams while Tobirama tries to keep the peace. But that's nothing new; they've played these roles since they were children.
Predictably, peace doesn't last forever. First, Madara strikes, then war breaks out again. Tobirama does his best to keep Hashirama's spirits up, not wanting his brother to crumble into grief. He supports, as he always has. He stands firm at Hashirama's side, a counterbalance to his brother's mercurial moods, a pillar against which Hashirama can lean.
Then Tobirama loses Hashirama, and he is alone.
The village has a place for him, of course. They place his brother's hat on his head and call him Lord Second. Tobirama accepts the position. He does what he is supposed to do. He keeps his mask in place. In his time as Hokage, he strives to create places for other people, giving them roles and responsibilities, the gift of purpose that kept him alive for so long.
And when the time comes, and Tobirama has a choice between saving himself or saving his subordinates, he does not what his father would have done, but what his brother would do.
After all, Tobirama knows his place.
Author's Notes:
crossposted to ao3 here.