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den of wolves (1/13)

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#19 Izuna Uchiha

summary: Peace in our time – it was the dream your cousin had championed since childhood, and it was the foundation for all of his efforts to bring the constant warring between clans to a permanent end.

And it was why he sent you into the den of wolves with only one order: Save Izuna Uchiha.

word count: 2,487

part two

The forests of Fire Country had always been home to you.

You were born of them, raised in them, and warred within them. For as wide and vast as the Senju territory was, you had roamed, training or exploring, for years on end with your clansmen. There was not a part of the territory that you didn’t know, and when Izuna Uchiha had dropped to his knees on the stone ground that you had once tripped over as a child, your first thought had been of how much that impact must’ve hurt, and then you’d seen the blood, and Tobirama’s shut eyes as a scream in the shape of the heir’s name ripped through the air of the salient, stopping the battle instantaneously.

Izuna’s blood was pooling in the crevices of the rockface, and Hashirama was begging Madara for peace, and every shinobi seemed to hold their breath as the world watched fate’s plans come to fruition.

When the Leader and mortally wounded Heir of the Uchiha Clan vanished, it had left the taste of bitter vainglory in your mouth as your comrades cheered the victory.

A chill passed through you as you shouldered your pack, coming up to the gate at the end of the worn dirt path. Three days existed between the ending of that battle and the beginning of this one, and, if you were to be honest with yourself, you weren’t sure if this battle was one that you’d walk away from like the rest of them.

You exhaled a slow breath as the face of the Leader of the Uchiha Clan came into focus the closer you came to him. Black hair, eyes as iridescently red as the petals of the spider lilies that grew around the Senju Compound in the summer months – the sight of him alone was enough to put you on edge, but you took care to keep your hands visible and stationary as you approached him.

Four of his clansmen were hovering nearby, each watching you with their own Sharingan eyes, and you could practically taste the threat of violence if you so much as breathed the wrong way. You wouldn’t be surprised if some of his archers were posted in the nearby trees, arrows aimed at your vitals.

Hashirama really had sent you to a den of wolves, just like Tobirama predicted he would.

“(Y/N) Senju, I presume,” Madara Uchiha spoke when you came to stand in front of him. There was enough space between you to draw your katana, and it was again an effort of monumental self-control to not let your hand drop to your blade hilt on your waist for a modicum of comfort.

“Uchiha-sama,” you replied, lowering your head slightly, just enough to show his owed respect, but not nearly as much as you traditionally should have, lest your sightline be obstructed. When you raised your chin, he held out his hand to you, his index and pointer fingers straight while the others curled into his palm.

Wakai no In.

Hashirama must have taught him the Senju gesture, because you knew there was no other way that Madara Uchiha would know that sign, not when all other encounters between the two clans were spoiled with the mutual lust for bloodshed.

Tentatively, you reached out with your own hand, fingers stretched in the familiar form, and tried to not feel three worlds removed from this moment as your knuckles locked around the Leader of the Uchiha Clan’s and you formed the seal of comrades with him.

You glanced at his face, meeting his eyes by gesture custom, and stiffened when you met gazes with the Sharingan, no doubt accidentally squeezing his fingers.

He let go of your fingers with a puff of brusque laughter.

“I have better uses for you than torturing you with genjutsu for entertainment, Senju-san,” Madara said lowly. “We are, after all, comrades now.”

You shifted slightly, righting your stance. “(Y/N) is fine, Uchiha-sama. There’s too many Senju to make sense of with that honorific.”

Madara smirked slightly. “You are the only Senju here.”

You cleared your throat, attempting to dispel the instinctual dread that had been beaten into you over the years of warfare when facing the Uchiha, and felt the weight of your katana on your hip as you replied, “Hashirama asked me to deliver you a scroll as well, detailing the meeting location and –”

“You’ll see to Izuna first,” Madara interrupted. He looked toward the four clansmen around him and then jerked his chin. They dispersed, leaping away from the gate, and disappearing into the nearby trees and buildings. Madara raised his hand to you again, palm facing skyward and steady as he said, “It will be faster to take you this way.”

Comrades, you remembered. Madara had offered you the wakai no in and Hashirama had sworn to you on his honor and on the Uchiha Clan Leader’s that you wouldn’t be harmed.

So long as you successfully heal Izuna, came a sharp intrusive thought in a voice not unlike Tobirama’s deadpan.

You released a long breath, finally letting your left hand rest on your katana hilt as you grounded yourself and then took Madara’s hand with your opposite.

He yanked you through space in a jutsu less graceful than your own clan heir’s, and you grit your teeth at the jarring sensation of displacement as the world refocused.

You were standing in a large, dark room, nearer to one of the walls. There was an armor stand on the adjacent wall, but the armor itself was in a heap on the floor in front of it, the mauve chest plate broken and covered in flaking dried blood. Mounted on the opposite wall, a small personal armory was on display, but much in the same fashion as the armor stand, a ninjatō was left haphazardly on the ground beneath an affixed tantō, blade half out of its saya and smeared with filth. The room reeked of blood and sweat, and something akin to the smell of the infirmary back home, something like decay – something close to death.

And at the center of it all lay Izuna Uchiha.

Two other Uchiha clansmen were kneeling over his body, both female and both dressed in similar black and navy clanswear. One of the women were pressing a damp towel to the heir’s forehead and the second woman was holding a rag stained with Izuna’s blood in her hands.

“How is his condition?” Madara demanded. Both of them regarded you warily, their Sharingan eyes trailing over your face, your pack, your katana, and your hands as you raised them in front of you, letting them see that you held no weapons.

“Clan Leader,” the woman holding the towel to Izuna’s face started to object, her jaw clenched.

“I was sent by Hashirama Senju to heal Izuna Uchiha,” you spoke before the man next to you could snap at the woman, his expression having curdled. “I mean him no harm.”

The woman holding the bloodied rag scoffed. “Your clan heir certainly meant him harm.”

You bit back words about Izuna’s ferocity that had left Tobirama with his own wounds, and instead said, “My cousin was defending himself against a once-enemy,” you replied steadily.

“Your cousin has put our heir in his deathbed,” the woman with the towel scowled. “Why should we let you near –”

“You’ll let the Senju near Izuna if you wish to leave this room with your tongue in your mouth,” Madara snarled, his temper a fierce thing as his chakra presence snapped viciously at his clansmen. He set his glare on you. “Heal him. Now.”

Comrades.

You repeated the word as a mantra as you set your pack down and took a step forward, putting all your faith in Hashirama’s vow of Madara’s honor as you did so.

The two women let you approach and, in spite of the tension and the three sets of Sharingan eyes that you felt on your back, you lowered yourself to your knees at Izuna Uchiha’s side. His upper chest was covered in swaths of bandages that were turning pink and brown, and there was a glossy trail of yellow fluid that pooled at the end of his sternum – not a good sign. You raised both your hands over his chest, trying to ignore the Uchiha around you –

“Don’t touch –”

One of the woman started to snap at you, but Madara snarled at her, and silence fit awkwardly into the room as you let your palms touch the part of the heir’s chest that wasn’t bandaged. His skin was slick with sweat and cold beneath your fingers, and as you felt for his heartbeat, you slipped your chakra into his body, easing as gently as you could through each of his body systems.

He was weak – terrifyingly so.

You couldn’t help the quick breath that you took as your iryō-ninjutsu touched against the cells surrounding his bandaged wound.

“Well?” you distantly heard the Clan Leader ask.

How the hell was Izuna still alive – that was all that you could think as you let your examination push further through his body. His body temperature was too low, and his blood was infected, and you could feel the bone shards that were lodged in his muscles and near his major arterial veins. A strong enough flinch could kill him if the infection didn’t first.

You withdrew your chakra and sat back on your haunches, staring down at Izuna’s chest as it trembled between his quick, shallow breaths.

“Senju?” Madara snapped at you. He was kneeling across from you now, shoulders taut as a bowstring as he clenched his hands in the fabric of his black pants.

You straightened and met his gaze, making sure to keep your left hand away from your blade hilt as his two clansmen hovered behind him, both standing.

“Izuna-sama in a severe state of sepsis,” you replied evenly. “The skin around his wound his developing a bacterial infection as well that’s limiting his body’s ability to close the wound by itself, not to mention the shards of the bones that splintered when Tobirama’s ninjatō broke Izuna-sama’s collarbone and uppermost ribs,” you continued, raising your hand to your own chest, and pressing your fingers into the space where your cousin had struck Izuna to show the Clan Leader. “The top of his left lung is pierced by most of the shards, and is bleeding into his chest cavity, which will eventually suffocate him.”

Clipped, sterile words, and they cut at Madara as you spoke them. His expression went from stone-faced to stricken and you could see his jaw feathering as he stared down at the sweat-slick face of his last living brother.

You grasped the fabric of your own pants in your hands. “I will try my best to heal him, Uchiha-sama,” you said softly, looking directly into his eyes when they flicked up to yours. “I won’t be able to do it all at once, but I will try.”

For a long moment, you sat in the silence, staring at the peculiar pattern of Madara Uchiha’s Sharingan eyes, subconsciously realizing that you were practically baring your neck to him until he nodded once.

“Hashirama was confident enough to send you with a scroll with details of our meeting to discuss peace, was he not?” Madara asked rhetorically and then he set his jaw and nodded again. “Heal my brother and I will sign whatever Hashirama wants me to.”

“Madara-sama,” one of them women protested. “We should not owe them anything for healing Izuna-sama. It’s fault of their own that he’s injured!”

“They’re manipulating you, Madara-sama!” the other woman agreed, sneering at you. “Why else would that Senju bastard strike Izuna-sama and not kill him? They planned this to force your hand to surrender!”

You grit your teeth, but held your tongue as Madara’s hands fisted tighter in the fabric of his pants.

“What supplies do you need?” he asked you steadily, ignoring his clansmen.

You glanced at Izuna again. “Bandages and bowls,” you replied. “A small brazier if you have one as well, and any kind of healing herb that you have. And clean water.”

“Herbs?” Madara repeated.

“Madara-sama,” one of the woman tried to argue again. “She could try to poison him – this could be their plan to ensure Izuna-sama’s death!”

You watched the Clan Leader’s patience shatter.

It began with the darkening of his eyes as his mouth pulled into a snarl and he turned, snapping up at both of his clansmen, “Leave!”

They both fell silent, gazes darting between you and their Clan Leader once, then twice, then when Madara’s chakra began to gather in a fury, they lowered their heads.

“At your will, Madara-sama,” they both said. You didn’t miss their glares as they passed you, but you kept your eyes on Madara’s face, knowing better than to test what control their leader had over their actions directly by meeting their gazes, as much as you wanted to.

“Herbs because I won’t be able to heal everything at once,” you replied when the clansmen were gone, and the door had been shut back across its track. “I’ll need to treat the sepsis foremost with chakra, but since his blood has been infected, it’ll take most of my concentration at first, and his wound needs to be closed, and his internal injuries healed as well. He’s still bleeding,” you said, pointing to the darkening bandages over the left side of Izuna’s chest, “which means I need to flush out the infection before I can stimulate his body to produce to more blood.”

Madara stared at the spreading pink stain on his brother’s chest.

“What herbs?”

You paused, thinking. “Yarrow and turmeric,” you said, “and garlic and honey if you have them. Chamomile too.”

“You’ll begin healing him now?” Madara asked, but you could read the tension lanced between the words. He wasn’t really asking.

“Are there any other chakra healers in your clan, Uchiha-sama?” you replied instead.

He hesitated, glancing at your Senju vajra stitched into your sleeve before he answered. “No, just medicinal healers.”

You nodded. “I’ll begin healing Izuna-sama now, but please ask the healers for their herbs and bring me the supplies.”

Madara stood and then stopped, frozen in an almost step as he looked down at you still kneeling at his brother’s side. You read his thoughts in his face.

“Hashirama swore on his honor and yours that I would be safe with you, Uchiha-sama,” you spoke, meeting his eyes and supplanting yourself to his mercy once again. “I swear on my honor that Izuna-sama is safe with me.”

He regarded you for a moment and then he tilted his head. “We’ll see.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone with the dying Heir of the Uchiha Clan breathing shakily beneath you.

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