Izuna came back to himself rather abruptly.  What the hell had happened? One moment he had been trading verbal snips with Tobirama, having randomly come upon the Senju upon the road.  He was not so unprofessional, or careless to start a true fight without reason.  But he was hardly going to let his rival pass without comment either.  

Then, there had been this voice.  The most lovely voice he had ever heard.  In fact, Izuna could still hear it.  Trying to pull him back under like the most subtle of genjutsu.  Though that subtlety did not make the song any less powerful.

‘My eyes are pierced by Cupid.  I disdain all glittering gold.  There’s nothing can console me but, my jolly sailor bold.’

It was then that Izuna noticed something else.  Tobirama’s hands were locked around his wrists.  Pinning him back against the Senju’s larger frame.  “Get off of me!” he snarled, attempting to free himself.

Tobirama’s grip was like iron.  “That depends,” he replied coolly.  “On whether you think you can prevent yourself from walking into the sea.”  

What.  Izuna found his gaze drawn to the other man he had met along the road.  A Tinker who had scoffed when he had relayed the locals’ warnings to avoid this route.  That he had been advised to take the other, longer path.  The man was already up to his waist in seawater.  

Eyes bleeding red, Izuna watched as the man took one step, then another.  Not hesitating in the least as he walked to his death, his head vanishing beneath the waves.  Even for a member of a clan known for its mastery of illusions, it was disconcerting.  

This time, when Izuna once again attempted to yank himself out of his rival’s grip, Tobirama let him go.  Quickly, Izuna put a decent amount of distance, not just between himself and the other ninja, but also between his body and the sea.  “Don’t think this means I owe you for anything Senju!”  

“Of course not,” Tobirama scoffed.  “You would have broken free without my intervention.”  It was the truth.  He had been considering using his own voice to jar the other, but it had turned out not to be necessary.  

If anything, Tobirama’s response made him feel even more off center.  Then why?

While Tobirama was not so foolish as to take his gaze off Izuna entirely, he did direct his attention back to the ocean.  “Are you quite finished?” he asked.

“Not entirely,” a melodic voice came from the depths as a woman with long silvery hair lifted her head above the waves.  “But it can wait.”  The woman smiled, revealing a mouthful pearly white, needle sharp fangs.  “Hello my son.”

“Mother.”  

Izuna’s mind came to a screeching halt.  He had occasionally wondered, given Tobirama’s unique looks, if the other was only half Senju.  But he had never considered this.  Another might not have noticed the silver and red fins still hidden beneath the water.  But his sharingan picked out the details with ease.  This woman was a mermaid.  No, he thought, remembering the music, a siren.  A man-eater.  

“It is good to see you Tobirama,” she greeted.  “Even if your human sentimentalities do appear to be getting the best of you.”  

“Not at all Mother,” Tobirama disagreed.  “It is simply that this one is mine, and I am not inclined to share.”    

“Really,” sharp red eyes, eyes which like her son lacked a visible pupil, focused on Izuna.  “He is quite lovely,” she mused.  “Strong too.”  She clicked her tongue thoughtfully.  “He will sire fine pups.”  

Izuna sputtered.  Then sputtered even more when Tobirama did not seem inclined to correct his Mother’s obviously incorrect conclusion.  Also, did she mean his rival could get pregnant!?  

“Just be smarter than me, my son.  Eat him once you have what you need.”  

Tobirama merely shrugged, unbothered by the thought that Butsuma might have ended up in his Mother’s stomach.  She sometimes stated she regretted not eating him as well when unlike his sister Erena he had not been born a full siren.  Honestly, that was probably why there were not more hybrids like himself walking around.  “I have not yet decided.”  

Izuna could feel himself turning red.  Just what did that mean?  Decided about what?  Eating him or fucking him?  Even worse, now he was imagining what a child of his and Tobirama’s would look like.  What kind of warrior they would grow into.  How Tobirama would look round with his child.  

He cleared his throat.  “Well,” Izuna stated.  “As I am clearly not needed here I will get going.  See you on the battlefield Senju.”  A quick sunshin took him back to the main road.  Izuna trying desperately to feel like he was not running away.  The laughter, a bell-like sound he would never have imagined emerging from Tobirama’s throat before today, not helping with the feeling in the least.  

The muses say Tobirama was there specifically to visit his Mother and sister.  He brought a selection of inland meats as a present.  But that just did not quite fit into the story.  Maybe if it gets expanded into a multichapter one day.  But if that happens it will not be soon.

The battlefield was strewn with the bodies of demigods and humans alike. Perhaps the most saddening sight was the dead animals. At least the people had known what they were doing when they came to battle. Faithful companion wolves, fierce and beautiful, dead by the dozen, their sharp eyes glazed over. Handsome stallions and mares, some bleeding to death, others piteously neighing as they struggled to shift broken limbs. Magnificent eagles shot down out of the sky. Even a tiger, who fought to her last breath as she was cornered by a group with spears.

You set your jaw and pulled your mask down over your face, unable to bear the sight. It was time to end this once and for all. Diplomacy had been attempted, and it had failed. The only way left was to kill him, and force the Tsukishima clan to their knees. Then, and only then, could you bring peace to the land. You stopped when you reached the tall figure in the centre of the battlefield.

He turned after casually dispatching an attacker, flicking the blood off his blade. His voice was deep, smoky, with a hint of amusement.

“So you’re finally here. I wondered when they’d get desperate enough to send the sun goddess. Maybe you’ll actually pose a challenge, hmm?”

The moon god was just as arrogant as you’d heard. Certainly, anyone who wielded just a katana, wearing barely any armour, had to have a stupendous amount of confidence. He was also rumoured to be handsome, though you couldn’t make out his features under all the blood and grime. Was he…smiling?

His apparent enjoyment of the situation made you all the more determined to be victorious in this encounter. You readied your sword in front of you, a straight blade with a deadly edge and ornate hilt. Your voice was muffled slightly by the mask.

“And I never thought the Tsukuyomi would be so unimpressive. Here I was expecting you to have finished me off already, but all you do is talk. Can we end this sometime soon?”  

His derisive laugh made his white wolf’s ears prick up. The god didn’t shift his stance, however, merely hoisting his dripping sword over his shoulder, looking as relaxed as ever.

“Come at me then, little girl.”

You were halfway across the field before he finished the sentence. Your blade, Kusanagi, blazed with light and the scorching heat of a summer sun just as it came down over his head, making him flinch in surprise. His reflexes were no laughing matter, however, as he parried the blow and sliced across your torso in a potentially fatal cut, all in a single movement. You jumped back a few feet, taking a moment to assess the night deity.

It seemed he was doing the same. “You do have some fight in you after all. Can’t say the same thing for your cousin, seeing he’s dead.” Your grip on the hilt of your sword tightened at the mention of Miyaji, but you didn’t respond to the taunt. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t killed several Tsukishima members yourself. Their faces still haunted your thoughts, not that he would care.

The Tsukuyomi was circling you now, his shadowy robes flickering on the periphery of your vision. You sensed, rather than saw, the moment he fully shifted into his divine form, the power of his radiance rippling through the air. When he completed a full circle to stop in front of you, he was clad in full armour, the silvery metal emitting a subtle white glow. The high collar and long drape of his overcoat rustled in the wind. When he pointed his shining blade at you, his voice echoed with the brilliance of reflected stars, of velvety night, and seductive promise.

“Show me what you can do, Amaterasu of the Hinata clan.”

Since he had paid you the high compliment of taking on his strongest form to battle you, it was only fair you do the same. Your body lit with golden fire, shining gauntlets and chest plate forming around your luminous limbs. Several mortals and deities shaded their eyes, blinded by the brilliance of your form.

“I am honoured, Tsukuyomi.” Your words rang with the crackle of all-consuming heat and the chime of temple bells. “If you wish to die a splendid death, I will oblige.”

His smile only widened, the expression verging on deranged delight. “Famous last words.”

The force of steel on divine steel sent a shockwave through the air, toppling everything in the vicinity of the combatants. Around you, the war had almost halted entirely in favour of watching the heirs of the clans fight. To the human eye, the duel was a series of blurred flashes, gold sparking against silver. To you, it was a deadly dance of blades, of dodging and parrying and twisting, neither getting the better of the other.

You tried to end the deadlock by clamping a hand on his arm, melting through the armour like butter. Just as his skin began to scorch, the moon god retaliated by gripping back, twisting your arm painfully and driving a foot into your stomach. The blow sent you flying back, and you couldn’t stop yourself before you crashed into a castle tower. The force of the impact rocked the foundations, and the tower crumbled to the ground in a pile of stone. You gritted your teeth at the needless destruction.

The lunar deity sauntered over, armour reforming itself around his arm. “Good try, goddess. But you’ll have to do better than that to kill me.”

You smiled through the pain as you pulled yourself up with your sword. “Then how about this?”

The world exploded in a blaze of light and heat as you brought down a beam of pure, unfiltered sunlight. The air turned dry as the moisture was the abruptly evaporated, the ground left parched and cracked by the intense heat. Tsukuyomi staggered from the onslaught, steam rolling off his armour. As your mask shattered in pieces, unveiling your face, you noted with some satisfaction that he had been weakened, his bronze skin losing some of its glow.

He growled in rage, blade roiling with wisps of smoky power. You shifted to meet his charge, bracing for the force of his blow. It never came, because just then, the heavens split and you had one moment to feel the air sizzle before an enormous bolt of lightning tore the ground open. The moon god also stopped in surprise as a torrential rain began without warning, sluicing the blood off the both of you in rivulets of dark red. His eyes widened as a figure descended, untouched by the downpour.

“It can’t be…you were supposed to be asleep…” He sounded as disbelieving you felt.

In person, a dragon was every bit as awe-inspiring and terrifying as you had heard. The sinuous body coiled with hidden strength, the talons as long as your arm, the white scales tinged with red, and the ruby eyes that glinted with celestial power. The emperor of heaven had slumbered for the better part of a millennium, and he did not seem pleased to be awake.

Perhaps sensing the shocked intimidation he was inspiring, the dragon shimmered and reformed into a human shape. His voice was youthful yet low with the hint of danger.

“It has been an age since I took on this form. It is uncomfortable as ever, I see.” The Ryuujin swept his ruby gaze over you and the moon god.

Recovering your wits first, you sank into a deep bow. “Akashi-sama, what brings the lord of the skies here? Have you returned to rule as you once did?”

He turned the force of his stare your way, though it was softened by a small smile. “Not yet, daughter of the sun. I had no such intentions, but it seems I must interfere in this feud of yours. It is disturbing the balance of things.” He glanced at the deity standing next to you.

The lunar god, in his never-ending arrogance, merely inclined his head at the great king. The dragon seemed amused by Tsukuyomi’s reaction. “You are Aomine Daiki, are you not? The Tsukishima clan remains as proud as ever, I see. Such is the nature of the moon’s people, after all.”

Aomine drawled, as lackadaisical as ever. “I’d rather hear your plans for this war, Ryuujin.”

Akashi’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “Indeed. You will, firstly, as representatives of your houses, call an end to this quarrel. Tell your armies to lay down their weapons.”

Your head snapped up. “But Akashi-sama, we’ve tried-“

“Then,” said Akashi in a tone that brooked no argument, “you will create lasting peace between the gods. The sun and the moon lead the assembly, and it is up to you to set an example. Bind yourselves to a treaty so that this may never happen again.”

Aomine frowned. “They won’t agree so easily to the terms, you know that.”

The dragon god smiled chillingly. “Then we shall have to make it in their interests to comply.”

“How do you propose we achieve this, my lord?” You were as skeptical as Aomine. As much as you wanted peace, you didn’t think it was easily reached.

“By including a condition in the treaty that will ensure the clans cannot attack each other easily. By joining two houses irrevocably through their most prized possessions.”

Your eyes widened in growing horror. Aomine gripped his sword harder.

“You two,” continued Akashi calmly, “will have to get married.”

There was a clatter as your blade fell to the ground. You stood frozen as the implications began to creep over you. A lifetime…married to him. Your eyes met those of a frustrated Aomine’s. Trapped in his night-blue irises, your heart jolted and your blood sparked. The strange feeling made you short of breath. Was that…attraction?

You realized with a sinking feeling that the war was going to be nothing compared to what was ahead. It was one thing to risk your life for your family. It was another thing entirely to risk your heart with the man who hated you with a vengeance.

“Oh no.” Your voice was a horrified whisper.

For the first time ever, Masao found himself regretting his life choices. Born as the youngest child of a large family who was neither wealthy nor poor, in a village neither small nor large, his options had been limited. His parents had known this as well and had named him accordingly. After all, devoting oneself to the kami was a perfectly respectable and honorable thing to do.

At the appropriate time Masao had traveled with his Father to the nearest temple and presented himself. Several years later when he had come of age he had taken vows and that had been that. It was a simple life and one he appreciated.

At least, it had been simple until today. Slowly the priest looked between the Beta/Alpha pair to the Omega they had stated they wished to marry. Not such an odd sight, on the surface. Perfectly normal even. He had officiated marriage ceremonies before.

Normal that is until one considered that the two Uchiha looked like they had been dragged through half the bushes in fire country and then half drowned for good measure. That all three of the shinobi were armed and wearing armour as opposed to formal wear was also strange. Oh, and lest he forget, the Omega was bound in sturdy ropes from head to toe.

Fleetingly Masao wondered if he could get away with shoving this situation off on the Head of the Temple. It was only appropriate right? He may not have known much about politics, but he did know the Uchiha were a noble clan.

Sighing, Tobirama decided to put the priest out of his misery. “In spite of how it may look kannushi-san, I have agreed to wed Uchiha-sama of my own free will.”

While it was true that much of their agreement regarding their union was verbal in nature, the albino trusted Izuna and Madara to honor their contract. And if for some reason they did not, well Tobirama had no qualms about becoming a widow. So long as it was after an heir had been produced, he silently amended.

“My intended husbands,” Tobirama continued. “Are simply concerned that if they free me before the ceremony I may renege on our agreement.” Pursing his lips, the Omega tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. “In truth, I cannot claim their concerns are unjustified.”

Oh he was sure he would end up marrying the pair regardless. But he would have preferred to have everything in writing first. Yet he could not deny it was very like Madara, disaster that he was, to hold negotiations for an arranged marriage over drawn swords. Still, he had expected better of his rival.

“Steady,” Tobirama’s calm voice came from behind his nephew’s shoulder from where he knelt on the ground.  “Exhale, and loose.”

Thunk.

The boy spun around, beaming.  “Did you see that Oji!” He crowed.  “I hit it!”  The child knew naught of the world outside his sheltered paradise.  Nothing of plagues or vampire lords.  Only that his beloved Uncle had come to visit.  

“I saw it.  You are doing well Kouma.”  Reaching out, the albino ruffled his nephew’s hair.

“Does that mean I can go hunting with you?” the boy was practically bouncing on his toes.  “For rabbits I mean.”  His Mom made a great rabbit stew with carrots and baby onions.  

In spite of the weighty thoughts holding him down, Tobirama could not help but smile at the other’s exuberance.  “I think any hunting trips will have to wait until all your arrows hit the target young one.”  He very carefully did not think of why they would not be with him.  

Immediately the boy drooped, his lip jutting out in a pout.  He looked just like a younger version of his Father in that moment, only with lighter hair and golden hazel eyes.  

“Perhaps your sister can help you when she returns from her studies in Uzu,”  Tobirama suggested.  

Harumi was an excellent shot.  Not that his brother could not shoot a bow.  However, Hashirama was so soft hearted when it came to small animals it was almost shocking his brother had not become a vegetarian.  Harumi thankfully took more after Mito.  “Now go collect the rest of your arrows before your Mother calls us in for dinner.”  

Quickly recovering from his funk, the boy flashed another bright smile before running into the woods.  In spite of Kouma’s youth, there was no need to worry.  There was no safer place on Earth than the forest surrounding the Senju home.  So long as you weren’t an enemy that was.  

Kouma was barely out of sight when strong arms wrapped around the demon hunter from behind and tightened.  Any other time, Tobirama would have been exasperated with his brother’s dramatics.  But not today.  Hashirama was not even crying, at least not audibly.  Somehow, that made it worse.

“Please,” his only living brother’s voice was tight with pain.  “Please Tobira.  You don’t have to do this.”  

Tobirama said nothing.  Only reaching up to squeeze back in silent support.

“I can find a cure.”  Hashirama sounded desperate.  “You know I can.”  It was preference, not lack of talent which kept him here in the wilds rather than pampered at the court of a wealthy lord.  All the nearby villagers knew, though they kept it quiet, that the druid was the type of healer who came along only once in a thousand years.

“Yes, you could.”  Tobirama agreed.  “But how many will die before you do?”  He had ever been a scholar just as much as he was a Hunter.  He had read accounts of the Yellow Pox.  He knew how deadly it was.  The development of a new cure would take time, and the stark truth of the matter was that they did not have it.  For some it was already too late.  

Hot tears began to soak into the younger man’s collar.  “He’s going to kill you Tobirama.”

Red eyes closed in a combination of pain and regret.  There was nothing he could do to reassure the other.  In all likelihood Hashirama was correct.  Instead he turned in his brother’s grip, returning the tight hug.  “I love you anija,” he whispered.

Stepping back, Tobirama straightened his clothes.  “Now wipe your face,” he ordered.  “Kouma is coming back.”  If this was to be the last time he saw his family, he would do his best to make the visit a happy one, irregardless of the future which awaited him.  

I think I made myself sad.   At this point, I can only reassure the readers this is not a death fic.