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Tobirama considered himself an innovator at heart. From the time he had been a young child, his knee jerk reaction to a claim something couldn’t be done had been prove it. That said, he did understand, and accepted, that some things just were. They could not be changed, no matter how much one wished, and the sensor accepted this. It was an interesting dichotomy in his nature.
However, just this once, the Senju cursed that he was who and what he was. Cursed the lingering ache in his bones and chest. The mental fuzz that made him feel both blind and deaf. They should have never, never gotten so close. He did not know who these strangers were, but he did know one thing. They were not Uchiha.
Uchiha were smoke and fire and the faint sensation of feathers, sometimes with hints of spice or ozone. These shinobi, were clearly independent contractors. Not one of them felt even remotely similar to another.
It was desperation, pure and simple that caused him to dare something he had never dared before; to reach, not for the water in the air, but for the very blood in his enemy’s veins. It felt like trying to grasp an oiled pole, but Tobirama would not yield. He grasped that red water and he pulled, even as he yanked the Uchiha toddler to the relative safety of his own arms.
The intruder had not the breath to give sound to his agony as his very body turned against him. Massive wounds ripping open as the blood responded to Tobirama’s desperate call. The man was dead before he hit the ground. His companions stared in horror, their henge dropping, revealing their true faces for all to see.
There were some that would say shinobi had no honor. That was not true. Yet at the same time, only fools fought fair. Tobirama did not hesitate to take advantage of the intruders shock, spitting a mouthful of ice senbon into the neck of the ninja going for Kagami, even as the youngster scrambled backwards.
The elder girl was more proactive, grimly shoving a knife into an enemy ninja’s calf before darting behind the albino to where the youngest member of their group had been deposited. The man stumbled forward, right into Tobirama’s strong hands as the albino grabbed and twisted, another lifeless body falling to the ground. Of course, that still left five more.
The Senju didn’t even feel the blade that grazed his upper arm even as he spun, grabbing a second kunai out of the air to return it to its owner with devastating effect. That was four. Tobirama knew he was in no shape for a real fight. Yet at the same time, failure was not an option.
The Senju’s mind was full of memories of too small bodies, lowered into too small graves. He hadn’t been there when his brother’s had needed him. But he was here now. He would not, could not fail. He would protect these children. Everything else DID. NOT. MATTER.
Tobirama might not have had the chakra necessary for a water dragon however, a water bullet would and did work just fine for drilling a hole through one of these scum’s hearts. He might have been unarmed, but the intruders had graciously helped with that. One of them had even been kind enough to lend him a sword. Not having been raised by barbarians, Tobirama politely thanked him before lunging forward in a move that had never failed to send Izuna frantically backpedaling. Of course, this man was not Uchiha Izuna.
Seven actually soiled himself before being impaled through the chest by a spike of ice. As for Eight, having decided discretion was the better part of valor, the man turned to run. Tobirama however had no intention of letting him go, and no mercy for those who hunted children. Pulling his arm back, he threw his appropriated blade like a javelin, the last enemy slumping bonelessly to the ground.
It was easy to see at that moment, how Tobirama had earned the names he had. The demon of the Senju, the blood stained ghost of the battlefields. He was quite the sight, crimson eyes full of rage, teeth pulled back into a vicious snarl. There were many who, at that moment, would have called him a monster, and perhaps he was. But one who did not strike aimlessly, nor without cause.
“What,” a cold voice interrupted the scene. “Happened here.”
Slowly, the haze of battle left Tobirama’s gaze and he blinked. Then blinked again. If someone had told him even two weeks ago he would one day be glad to see his rival, the albino would have laughed in their face. Now though, all he could feel was relief. Izuna. Izuna was here. Izuna would protect the children. The Uchiha would . . .
Everything went black as Tobirama collapsed. The sensor didn’t even feel himself hit the ground, or hear the children’s cries of dismay. If he had though, the sensor would have said it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he had won.