He...wasn't denying it. Tobirama wasn't denying it. He wasn't denying any of it, which means, yes, he was going to kill him again and that was that. His minutes were numbered, and then...nothingness. Nothingness that he didn't want to return to.
"All those words," he whispered, "were you just trying to lull me with all those sweet words?"
Izuna didn't bother to ask if they were true, and he wouldn't insult him by saying they weren't real; to Tobirama, they were. The albino wouldn't have cried if they weren't, wouldn't have shown his weakness to Izuna and let those tears drop down onto his enemy's fingers. He thought he loved him.
And Tobirama would kill what he loved. Why not? He had done it before.
"If I was a breathing person," he whispered, breaking away from him, backing up farther, farther, trying to put enough space so he wouldn't drive his own fist into that armor, "would you kill me, too? Would you drive another blade back into me?"
But he couldn't deny Tobirama's claims either, could he? He would go to his brother, because he loved him fiercely, enough to forsake the world, to take up his arms. He loved him enough to help bear the weight of his injustice, to fight for him, to die a million times over for him and not flinch. That was what a brother did. That was in their blood.
"Madara is the Uchiha clan," he whispered, not thinking, not caring. He was the head of the clan, and if none followed him, then they weren't Uchiha. They were just filthy defectors and didn't have any clan loyalty, any pride. The Senju could keep them.
Unless...
"Are you going to kill all the Uchiha that remain?" he hissed, feeling mildly protective amid the repulsion. "Are they a 'risk' like I am?" Anger began to take root, grow, that love inside of him darkening at the edges, making his tongue cruel, sharp.
"You're so quick to get rid of me, but maybe I could have talked to him. Maybe I could have convinced him. Maybe things could change if he sees me, but you're just quick to kill me! Is that what you want, Senju? Is this it!?"
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branchandroot
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Date: 2015-09-29 10:30 pm (UTC)"All those words," he whispered, "were you just trying to lull me with all those sweet words?"
Izuna didn't bother to ask if they were true, and he wouldn't insult him by saying they weren't real; to Tobirama, they were. The albino wouldn't have cried if they weren't, wouldn't have shown his weakness to Izuna and let those tears drop down onto his enemy's fingers. He thought he loved him.
And Tobirama would kill what he loved. Why not? He had done it before.
"If I was a breathing person," he whispered, breaking away from him, backing up farther, farther, trying to put enough space so he wouldn't drive his own fist into that armor, "would you kill me, too? Would you drive another blade back into me?"
But he couldn't deny Tobirama's claims either, could he? He would go to his brother, because he loved him fiercely, enough to forsake the world, to take up his arms. He loved him enough to help bear the weight of his injustice, to fight for him, to die a million times over for him and not flinch. That was what a brother did. That was in their blood.
"Madara is the Uchiha clan," he whispered, not thinking, not caring. He was the head of the clan, and if none followed him, then they weren't Uchiha. They were just filthy defectors and didn't have any clan loyalty, any pride. The Senju could keep them.
Unless...
"Are you going to kill all the Uchiha that remain?" he hissed, feeling mildly protective amid the repulsion. "Are they a 'risk' like I am?" Anger began to take root, grow, that love inside of him darkening at the edges, making his tongue cruel, sharp.
"You're so quick to get rid of me, but maybe I could have talked to him. Maybe I could have convinced him. Maybe things could change if he sees me, but you're just quick to kill me! Is that what you want, Senju? Is this it!?"