IZUNA

4

Izuna resisted the urge to shiver as she submerged herself in the cold water. Beside her, Uchiha Mikasa did the same. They bathed and washed the blood and dirt from their bodies and became clean. Once finished bathing, they dressed themselves and stood guard so that the men could take their turn to wash as well.

Izuna glanced over at the older girl thoughtfully.

Mikasa was her senior by four years and was almost of marrying age. Most women of the clan married at sixteen, Mikasa was fifteen and would be turning sixteen this coming spring.

Izuna wondered what Mikasa thought of it.

::

"We'll take shifts," Tajima told them. His hair is still dripping wet and glistening beneath the light of the moon. "I'll stand first guard for the night."

Izuna fought the need to rebuke her father and tell him he'd catch a cold if he let his hair dry in the chilly night breeze.

She didn't though.

It wasn't her place.

She was the daughter.

He was the father.

They weren't equals.

Her father loved the clan with his entire being.

She loved her father and knew that he loved her too, but he was her clan head before he was her father and rebuking him in front of their clansmen was unacceptable.

Rebuking him at all was unacceptable.

It was insulting to his authority as clan head and as the patriarch of the clan.

Rebuking him was the equivalent of saying he was beneath her.

It was a challenge.

And Izuna wasn't ready to challenge her father, she didn't want to challenge him.

She wouldn't challenge him.

(She just wished he could love her fully and selfishly without sharing that love with the rest of the clan.)

::

It was inevitable that Madara and Hashirama would discover each other's true identities. But it didn't make the discovery any less heartbreaking for her to watch.

Izuna saw how her brother's eyes went wide at the sight of Hashirama standing side by side with Tobirama and their father Butsuma.

She saw how Hashirama did the same.

Neither one gave any indication of recognition or familiarity otherwise.

That was wise.

But Madara still looked devastated.

She could practically hear his dreams cracking and shattering to fragments.

She wanted to run to him, pick of the pieces and tell him to rebuild. She wanted to assure him that things would be okay.

Don't give up, she wanted to say but couldn't in the presence of their father. Don't give in. Your dream will be realized.

Madara's grief at the realization of Hashirama's family name was enough to activate his sharingan.

Her brother was tormented enough to activate his sharingan.

She wanted to say something. Anything.

She said nothing.

(And perhaps that was the most damning thing of all.)

"So we meet again, Tajima Uchiha." Butsuma narrowed his eyes and spat the name like a bitter poison.