Chapter 2

What does Sōkōma know for certain?

She's a child. She's a younger sister to two brothers, and an older sister to two others. She has white hair, red eyes. Her skin is pale. She is being trained in the shinobi arts and can access her chakra. Both of her parents are still alive.

These are all cemented facts.

And yet, what other certainties does she have in life?

She has memories of a story where her Tou-san was alive when Hashirama was at least ten years old. But, in that tale, there had been no hint or allusion of Sōkōma, of a younger sister and a daughter. This is not the story she knew, so there is no certainty that her Tou-san will return from whatever mission he leaves upon. Every goodbye may be the last.

As such, every thought and piece of knowledge can be challenged.

This is not the world the memories had read about, so can she truly trust them?

Kawarama first. Then it's Itama. Kawarama – cause of death, unknown. He's seven. Itama – cornered by Uchihas.

Hashirama becomes clan head. Tobirama strikes Izuna down. Hashirama offers up his life in return.

Peace.

Uchihas. Curse of Hatred. The upgraded Sharingan from emotional duress. Madara, who would see Tobirama dead for his future actions. Izuna, bitter and still exhaling hate even with his last breath.

Zetsu.

Can she afford to ignore them? No, she cannot. Until proved otherwise, she will assume Zetsu exists. She will assume that Kawarama and Itama will die early deaths and she will plan as best she can to overcome these obstacles. If it turns out that this information is false… well, there are both ways this can act as a comfort and a curse.

No Zetsu means no poison being dripped in the ears of the Sage's descendants (the names of them aren't important in the long run, she only needs to recall they descend from the brother who thought peace could come from love; the Uchihas, from the one who believed in power).

No early deaths for her brothers… well, they live longer.

No Zetsu could mean the Uchihas refuse to join all of their own accord. No death at seven could mean Kawarama may die before that, even younger than in the story.

What she can acknowledge is that any fact or theory from history has bene revised at some point, either through conscious effort or unconscious memory recall. That means any idea or theory can be challenged. Such as all that she had been told of chakra.

.

Sitting in the back garden by the koi pond, Sōkōma works the clump of earth in her hand back and forth, frowning. According to Kaa-chan, the way to transform her natural chakra into that of her affinity is to visualise it working. Given that she is earth natured, that leaves Sōkōma with the dirt-clod torn halfway between her own work and watching Hashirama. Her brother has already worked out how to use his earth affinity and he now sits beside Tobirama, both of them holding a leaf they'd been told to 'make damp'. No other instructions, just as she'd been told to make the earth 'crumble'.

Passing the clod back and forth between her hands, Sōkōma chances a quick glance to her Kaa-chan. She's sitting on a thick blanket, baby Kawarama cradled to her chest, Itama laid out on the fabric and playing with what can only be described as kunai baby toys. It's been a month since those jigsaw pieces of memory had fallen into place; Tobirama's healthy and hale once again, their Tou-san returned from his mission none the worse for it. All three of the walking-talking Senju children have continued to train. The flexibility her body has already is incredible. And now, she's going to be learning to control the earth with nothing but her mind and willpower.

Well, there's probably something more to it than that, but if she associates her chakra with willpower, the need to get the energy flowing through her body, it makes thinking of it as something belonging to her easier (instead of something alien and unnatural).

Yet, all this does is pose more questions. Earth, water and wind are all different states of matter, particles that can be moved around. Fire though, is a chemical reaction. So, is fire release just the control of air particles as they chemically combust, or is it control of what is chemically combusting? And that's not even looking into lightning. She assumes it's something similar to fire (vague memories of higher education and secret fourth state of matter rings through her mind), certainly to do with the electrons and other things that make up atoms, but she can't recall anything more than that.

Twisting the clump of earth around, Sōkōma frowns.

Theory one; chakra is an additional form of energy present within this world. Supporting background knowledge: the people here eat more than what she remembers from the other memories; if chakra exists, so does natural chakra with plants with absorb, giving them excess energy to be transferred along the food chain as they are eaten; for movement to happen, a form of energy must be converted into kinetic energy. Hypothesis reached; there is a finite amount of energy in the world that all living beings are linked to and chakra is just another face of this energy.

It brings up so many questions; if the population drops, does that mean the amount of chakra within individuals born increases? If the human population outstrips the energy allowance, do other living things end up with a lower population?

"How's it going, Sōkō-tan?"

Blinking, Sōkōma turns to her Kaa-chan, offering her a smile.

"I'm thinking, Kaa-chan."

Kaa-chan smiles, making her way over to inspect the boys' progress and leaving Sōkōma once again drilling holes into the rock with her eyes alone.

Fact; Sōkōma is capable of using the electrical, chemical and kinetic energy within her body; it's how she moves, breathes, thinks. Consequently, the chakra energy (for lack of a better name) that resides within her body is also hers to control. All she needs to do is apply it. She does not know the intricacies of how she uses the three sources of energy she already does, only that is works. Theoretically, she does not need to understand the intricacies of chakra energy in the same way. If that was the case, only the genii would become ninja. Given the cousins she's seen using chakra during the last month…

She can do this.

.

An hour in and Sōkōma has a nice little gathering of dust coating her palms. The earth clump hasn't full out crumbled, but she's certainly making steady progress towards her goal. Kaa-chan had taken one look and nodded, a proud, pleased smile on her face that made Sōkōma want to wiggle in delight. She has no idea what the standard of 'normal' is when it comes to these things, no base information to go on given Hashirama is older and will become a god among men in relation to other shinobi, and Tobirama would someday be hailed as a genius. Consequently, all she can do is try her best. No point aiming for a normal she cannot see.

They break for a simple lunch, rice-balls with vegetable fillings, and are then allowed to laze around to let their food settle as Kaa-chan attends to Itama and Kawarama.

With her head resting on Hashirama's belly, Sōkōma stares up at the sky above them, the cloudless expanse of blue that stretches from horizon to horizon.

"You're heavy, Sōkō-chan."

"Maybe Nii-san shouldn't be a ninja if he can't lift his imouto."

"Ninja don't have to be physically strong," Tobirama cuts in, pointedly ignoring the way Sōkōma is digging her cheek further into Hashirama's stomach to prompt a reaction from him. "If they know jutsu, then they could still win."

"But Tobi-kun!" Hashirama unintentionally throws her off as he sits up, turning his big brown eyes on his grumpy look brother, "we're the clan of a thousand hands! A thousand techniques! We have to be good at more than one thing!"

"Then I shall create a thousand new techniques," Tobirama retorts, stumbling only slightly over the final word in his sentence, watching Hashirama with sharp crimson eyes. She wonders if her eyes look like that too; it's certainly intimidating.

"I want to spend some time studying chakra," Sōkōma announces into the growing argument (honestly, boys). Both her brothers turn to look at her and Sōkōma grins, reaching out to pinch their cheeks. Hashirama yowls, though her twin sternly accepts the gesture for what it is; a show of affection.

"I'm pleased to see you all so full of energy; we'll play a game of pin the enemy next." Ah, pin the enemy. She'd been playing with Tobirama ever since he got over his cold. There's no finesse to it, no calculated katas or anything. It's a game of strength and wit; who can get the other in a hold they can't get out of. Only, both she and Tobirama are free and thus, evenly matched. Hashirama on the other hand is near a year and a half older than them. The half a foot of extra height he has is a distinct advantage that she doesn't doubt he'll take merciless advantage of.

"But Hashi-niisan will win them all!" Sōkōma protests, pouting something terrible at her Kaa-chan in hopes of encouraging the woman to change her mind. "He's too tall!"

"And that's why it will be you and Tobirama against Hashirama."

"What?!"

Kaa-chan continues as if Hashirama hasn't interrupted in the slightest. "He's out when he's pinned by both of you. You or Tobi-tan are out if one of you gets pinned."

.

They spend a good portion of the afternoon wrestling, none of them willing to give an inch. It only comes to a halt when Itama wakes up and stumbles over in an effort to join them. Hashirama allows the littlest among them to pin him, theatrically lamenting his defeat. It's a good afternoon, one of the many that dominate the first half of her third year.

When Hashirama is a month off of his fifth birthday, Kaa-chan goes back into the field.

It's not a situation Sōkōma has ever been in before, not a situation any of them have. Well, Hashirama had been bounced between babysitters in that thin gap between Kaa-chan returning to missions the first time and the moment she found out she was pregnant with both Tobirama and Sōkōma, but he'd not been old enough to remember it. Not like now.

.

Elder Giichi and his grandson, Shoyo, arrive at their door just as Mama is preparing to leave. The elder is perhaps mid-fifties at the most but, given the current age expectancy of ninja, that's probably quite impressive. Kaa-chan had said his grandson, Shoyo, was a shinobi too, that he was between missions at the moment during his 'off time'. But there's always some form of work to be found around the compound and that's why he's here. She'd even said he might take them outside for taijutsu practice. That had been enough to win Hashirama and Tobirama over, though Itama hadn't understood anything beyond the fact Kaa-chan was leaving and had spent the rest of the night crying.

That he's sleeping right now is probably a blessing.

"Be good. Look after each other. I should be back before nightfall."

"Be safe, Kaa-chan," Hashirama says, surprisingly solemn for the occasion. Her eldest brother is prone to emotional outbursts to the fact he recognises the weight of the situation and is responding accordingly is… discomforting.

Kaa-chan graces each of them with a kiss to their foreheads, placing a shopping list in Sōkōma's hands and a canvas bag into Tobirama's. "That's your errand of the day. Hashirama, I'm trusting you in the house. Though Giichi-sama and Shoyo-kun are here to help, looking after your brothers falls to you right now. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Kaa-chan." Kaa-chan smiles and she looks all the more beautiful for it. Despite her status as a frontline shinobi, she's not got a single scar on her face. It's a sign of just how good she is that she's blemish free, that she wears her hair so long, her armour a searing shade of white over the standard navy blues. Sōkōma has seen her every day for her whole life and it's only now that she's realising just how pretty the woman is.

With a single nod, Kaa-chan leans for the roofs, taking off and leaving the three of them standing on the doorstep, Giichi the elder and his grandson, Shoyo to man the house.

"We'll complete our job first," Tobirama decides, grabbing hold of Sōkōma's hand before Hashirama can protest. She fires a smile at her eldest brother over her shoulder as Tobirama marches them out of the house.

This is, after all, their first errand without Hashirama.

.

Fire Country is gripped by an Indian summer this year, the temperature sweltering despite the fact they're more than half way into September. Both she and Tobirama are still in their summer clothes, freshly washed but already starting to fray at the edges. Children's clothes are passed around through the clan and, despite being the Clan Head's children, they are no different. Sōkōma's top belonged to cousin Hatsune and both of them got their trousers from the ones Hashirama outgrew last year.

"What's on the list?" Tobirama asks, his pudgy little hand still entwined with one of hers. As such, it's a bit of a struggle unfolding the piece of paper but Sōkōma manages, inspecting the writing with shrewd eyes. Of the two of them, she's the better reader, not that Tobirama is far behind. If Hashirama doesn't put in more effort, she thinks that, come this time next year, they will all be on the same reading levels.

"Storage scrolls from Tokutomi-san, salmon from Mio-san, more potatoes from Chisa-san and some rosemary. Yes, I love visiting Chisa-san!"

"That's only because she gives you free fruit," Tobirama grumbles, eyes rolling skywards and Sōkōma grins, poking him in the arm.

"So, if Chisa-san offers me two peaches, you don't want one?" Predictable as ever, Tobirama scoffs, flicking a scowl her way.

"I never said that."

"The summer has been long, but there's been a good amount of rain too," she notes, waving to Toshi-san as they pass the butchers. The civilian waves back before returning to his customer, gesturing to a rather large slab of meat that wasn't there when Kaa-chan brought them to the market yesterday. She'll have to remember to mention it tomorrow. "I heard there's a good harvest in all the villages outside the compound, so we can buy lots of excess produce!"

"And store most of it for harder times," Tobirama concludes, steering the both of them into Tokutomi-san's store first. It's the only one on the street that doesn't have an open front with shutters, instead appearing just like a normal house if one discounts (what she assumes is) a seal-enforced screen door. When it slides open, a chime goes off from a bell that Sōkōma can't spot, the smell of ink and parchment engulfing them as they step inside. She's never actually been inside here before; usually, this is Hashirama's solo errand. The shelves are stocked with large scrolls, small scrolls, medium scrolls. Some are fat, some thing. There's also what looks like a reinforced cabinet that's labelled 'explosive tags. No need to press any further on just what those are; dangerous and expensive.

"Would I be looking at Hashirama-sama's cute little siblings?" The voice is accented compared to everyone else that she's ever met and that very fact has the hairs on her neck standing on end. The unfamiliar is not good, that much is drilled into every child no matter how small, even Itama knows it. An unfamiliar enemy could be more dangerous than the familiar, an unfamiliar jutsu could kill you. An unfamiliar accent is for outsiders.

Sōkōma's eyes snap to the source, Tobirama tensing beside her too.

There's a woman leaning on the makeshift counter, even older than Elder Giichi. The lines in her face speak of a long life, though the dull red of her hair contrasts with that.

"Excuse me, I don't think we've met," Sōkōma tries, eyes flickering around the room as she searches for Tokutomi-san. Hashirama had given them a description of him often enough; old, missing part of his left arm, a gravelly voice that makes it sound like he's spent a lifetime eating dirt (her brother's words, not hers). The fact it is a woman talking to them makes it abundantly clear that this isn't Senju Tokutomi. Unless he's into something she'd not have thought socially acceptable at this current time.

"Probably expecting Tokutomi, right? My name is Uzumaki Sada. I'm his wife." Oh. Oh! An Uzumaki! Sōkōma looks her over with new eyes; yes, the dull red hair and lined face makes sense now, and this is a parchment, ink and a fūinjutsu shop. It makes total sense.

"Uzumaki?" Tobirama parrots, a wary frown still adorning his face, even as Sōkōma steps further into the shop, towards the counter.

"They're our allies. I didn't realise one had married into the clan recently though."

"I don't think many people count sixty years are recent, Sōkō-hime," Uzumaki Sada says with a grin, elbow on the counter, fist propping up her cheek and looking remarkably relaxed for someone who has to bee in their mid to late seventies. At least. Compared to Elder Giichi, she's already significantly cooler. "I assume you're here for your mother's order." She pats at the neatly wrapped bundle upon the counter beside her with her free hand, the creases of her face still lifted with good humour.

Sōkōma steps closer, taking note of the ink stains that seem to have seeped into the woman's nailbeds. Perhaps this is the after effect of a sheltered upbringing? Sure, they are being prepared for war, trained to survive a harsh world. But there has been no social interaction with anyone outside of the clan and won't be unless she becomes a ninja or picks a trade. Even then, the latter will only allow her out to other villages when she is an adult. Someone so clearly unfamiliar is a bit… scary.

Sōkōma accepts the bundle slowly, offering a smile to the elderly lady who mans the counter.

"Thank you for organising our order, Uzumaki-san."

"I take pride in my work, Sōkōma-hime. Maybe you or one of your siblings will learn the marvellous art of fūinjutsu from me one day."

.

Elder Giichi organises dinner with the potatoes they fetch back, using the salmon that Mio-san had gutted before selling to them. From there, they take it in turns looking after Itama and Kawarama. Sōkōma goes first, which leaves her the afternoon free with Hashirama in the back garden, Shoyo walking the both of them through the basic katas he's just finished reviewing with Tobirama. Admittedly, the had started with what she had come to refer to as the Senju Stretches Song, the tune and its lyrics still bouncing about in her head even as they go through the basic kicks.

She's using kinetic energy at the moment, isn't she? In order to move her body, that, along with chemical and electrical energy is being used. Potentially, chakra energy is also in the mix there, helping somehow. The question is, how can she drum that up and unleash it? The Hyūga could use it as pin-point strikes and as a tool to create a rotating defence. Tsunade could use her fine-tuned chakra to shatter mountains. There's no question that it cannot be used in battle, the question is how can she best apply it in a way that suits her?

The first step would be to sense its use, wouldn't it? Heat energy is something the skin can feel, light energy can be detected by the eyes. Surely there is some method of detecting chakra energy also? Are their fundamental differences in this body, a new organ that can be used to sense chakra energy? It's not something she can write off; she'll need to acquire any information they have on the body to confirm that one. She doubts comprehensive medical books exist, but the Senju have medics. Logically, they should also have the necessary information to study the body enough to be capable of healing it… right?

"Sōkō-chan! Are you lost in your head again?"

Sōkōma flinches back violently at the sudden appearance of Hashirama, his nose having brushed right up against hers with how damningly close he'd gotten. He catches her wrist before she can stumble, reeling her right back into his chest for one of his irritating bear hugs.

"Welcome back, imouto! What were you thinking about?"

"How do we sense chakra?"

.

Shoyo doesn't give her the answer to her question. Instead, he encourages both herself and Hashirama to sit down as he flares his own chakra again and again, close enough to them that Sōkōma can hear each breath he takes, each inhale and exhale. Apparently, it's the same way that all others are taught to sense chakra. Shoyo does not have an answer for her when she asks how they sense chakra, asks which part of the body is responsible for recognising the not quite buzzing or lapping sensation that brushes up against the edge of her consciousness whenever he flares his chakra. His confused shrug accompanied by a lacklustre guess of 'the brain or your chakra, I guess' gets lodged in the back of Sōkōma's mind for later review.

Yet, there are plus points.

When she returns to the house to take over from Tobirama in looking after their younger siblings, she sits herself down and focuses. The tiny, near butterfly like sensations of her sleeping younger brothers register first. The more she concentrates (almost like scrunching the muscles of a body part she didn't know she even had), the further that sense expands until she can feel Elder Giichi sitting ten or so feet away. It's not a great scope; Sōkōma can only hope she'll improve in this sensing thing. She's only three years old, no matter how she might be closer to her fourth birthday now than her third. As slow going as it is, she will grow. All she can do in the meantime is dedicate herself to becoming wiser, faster, stronger.

Senju Rimone returns to the compound that has been her home for seven years just as the sun is dipping below the horizon. She's slightly later than she would have liked (than she'd expected to be), but there's blood on her sword and an ache in her chakra pools to give evidence as to the why. She considers formally reporting in for all of the five seconds it takes to register her husband's chakra bubbling up through the confines of their room. She turns her attentions away from the main building and instead to home; it will save whatever poor sap is currently manning the desk from having to report to her Butsuma anyway.

She lands on cousin Jotaro's roof soundlessly, watching Butsuma open the window of their bedroom so that she may slip through. Physically, the only blood she carries is that on her sword, no matter how metaphorically dyed her hands are. There had been three ninjas protecting her target today, low-ability, barely ten years older than Hashirama. They had refused to go down without a fight. The last to clash blades with her had tears in his eyes.

"Rimone. I take it all went well?" Butsuma asks indifferently, already turning back to their bed as she shuts the window after herself. She watches him move until she's satisfied there's no hidden injuries, can smell no old blood upon him. His mission was a swimming success too then.

"Of course. I've been raising children, I'm not crippled," Rimone grumbles, slipping out of her armour, the motions so practiced that not even the swell of a pregnant belly could encourage her to forget them. It's flattering that he's uninterested in the outcome of her mission, as if he doesn't doubt, she'd succeed and that to ask after details would waste both of their time. Unsealing the objective, Rimone places the traditional fan down on their bedside dresser, pursing her lips. Honestly, nobility will find the oddest things to fight over; who cares which of the descendants has their grand ancestor's fan? It's hardly useful. None the less, the Senju were contracted to acquire it before it reached Lady Wakiya Chizu's lands so acquire it Rimone did.

Once she's shrugged off everything but her undergarments, leaving the clothes dumped in a pile she will sort in the morning, Rimone crawls into bed, allowing her muscles and her nerves to relax in the safety of her own home. It hadn't been until the twins' birth that she'd really come to think of this particularly building as home; even with Hashirama stumbling around the living room, she'd always longed for their old house. The one those Uchiha bastards burnt to the ground.

"What has your chakra in such a flux?"

"I was just thinking. About the old house."

"Fucking Uchihas."

Yes. Rimone fins she rather agrees with that statement. She can still remember the clogging smoke and the screams, the red eyed demons slaughtering her family. She can remember the blood as she bit through her lip, the spray of it as she cut her enemies down. That had been the day Butsuma had ascended to clan head, through no choice of Senju Takuma's. Her husband's father had at least had the decency to take down the bastard Uchiha head as he died.

"I am putting Tobirama and Sōkōma forwards for weapons training," Butsuma says after a heavy silence.

Rimone rolls onto her side, pillowing her head with one arm so she may look for any signs of exactly how she should be feeling after that declaration. Traditionally, children begin weapons training on the October of their fourth year alive. That would put her twins a year ahead of everyone in their age bracket.

"They're both gifted," Butsuma continues at her silent prompting, still lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. "Their use of chakra exceeds that of their agemates and their taijutsu is coming along well. It's the logical next step."

Yes, she supposes it is.

Her babies are three years old but, if the Uchiha have proved anything, then its that nowhere is truly safe. Even with all the Uzumaki seals that are now put up around the new compound's wall, it is better that Tobirama and Sōkōma be able to protect themselves than rely upon it. Better to have and not need, then to need and not have. Many of her family have learnt that the hard way.

"The Uchiha will not be capable of mounting and offense like that for some time," Butsuma admits, shifting onto his side so he can better look at her, tucking one strand of hair behind her ear. "With the loss of the clan head and their unsuccessful attack, many of the wealthier Fire nobles have lost confidence in them; we have had far more business these last seven years than in the time before that attack."

"Yes." But, if only they could send the excess armour they have back in time, back to that horrific night, to better protect their clan. What is done is done; all Rimone can hope for now is that their good fortunes will continue to grow.

With Hashirama's birthday comes the announcement that both of she and Tobirama will be joining the weapons training sessions held every early morning in the clan's east facing training field. It comes as a surprise, what with the fact that a child normally begins these lessons when they are four years old. It seems, however, both she and Tobirama have impressed enough that they are 'skipping a year ahead', so to speak. It is both a relief and a terror. On one hand, knowing more ways with which to defend herself can only ever be a good thing; Sōkōma is working as hard as she can, pushing her body as far as is advisable in order to progress within taijutsu. Weapons would just be another component of that. And yet…

This will bring her one step closer to the battlefield.

Children are not training to then allow these skills to go to waste. Hashirama and Tobirama and herself will all be that little bit closer to being called into action and the thought is… chilling.

There's an information black-out on the world of the shinobi outside of their compound, at least, for the children. All they know is the safety of their circular walls and the stories of the Uchiha bogeyman. Nothing of the true horrors of war. It really does bring into perspective how free information had been in the life of her memories.

To them, the war is just something that happens outside; sometimes, people don't come back. But they're so far removed from it that it will be a cultural shock once they come face to face with it. All of their knowledge comes from their own perceptions; what they uncover, what the people around them share. Sōkōma has more of an idea of the war simple because she has more knowledge that her brothers.

It does not mean she knows the truth of it.

.

"Now, these are blunted kunai. Feel the weight of the weapon in your hand, get used to moving your arms with it." It is, admittedly, very heavy, especially for a three-year-old to hold.

Lifting the weapon up and over her head, Sōkōma rotates her arm, feeling the extra pull the weapons offers as she moves it. Stopping her arm takes a little more effort, or at least, a controlled stop does. And, as ninja, there's no such thing as an uncontrolled stop. Not if you want to keep living that is.

Across from her, Tobirama is mirroring her actions, the same thoughtful frown that she imagines is on her own face.
She's not sure what to expect from the other children; resentment, maybe, for their younger age? That or pity. But no, they all seem intent upon training as best as they can; this isn't so much a school for ninja techniques as it is tutoring for survival. The weight of it seems like something even four-year olds can understand. That, or their parents have scared them enough with tales of war and Uchihas for them to take their training seriously. It's early days though, so Sōkōma wouldn't be surprised if these things could change, expects it, even.

.

They spend a portion of the morning just learning to move with the kunai in their hands, performing katas with them, running and jogging and cartwheeling. By the end of it, Sōkōma's arms feel like jelly and Tobirama looks no better for it, what with the way he frowns at his limbs as if betrayed by them. Eijiro-sensei sends them on their way with a pack of their own blunted kunai, to be strapped to their thighs.

Sōkōma assumes it is so they grow used to the weight and placement, so that the basics are already there and the habit grows as the body does. It makes sense; everyday use would negate the changes growth presents.

It doesn't make the load on her leg any lighter, nor does it stop her from grimacing with every third step. She feels… off balance with it all just on one leg, even if that's what everyone else has.

"I really thought we'd at least get on to the throwing element," Sōkōma admits, chancing a glance at Tobirama from the corner of her eyes. Her twin huffs, fiddling with the edge of the bandaging on his thigh.

"It won't be long."

"Yeah, I don't think it'll be long. I bet I can hit the bullseye first though." At that challenge, Tobirama does turn to look at her, lips pressing into a firm frown, eyebrows trying to tucker together over his nose.

"No, you won't."

"Right, then it's on. Loser has to deal with Hashirama's crying fits for a year."

.

Three weeks later, Tobirama hits the bullseye. Sōkōma spend the rest of the year cursing both him and her big mouth.