Chapter 14.2- One Thousand Hands

They travelled to Konoha quickly, not bothering to stop or even make camp for any means. Sensei’s displeasure hung over them like a cloud. She could see how Toshiro ached to speak to Shorirama. To ask about the Byakugan, or even the sudden increase in his skills, or one of the million thins the boys whispered about when they were too far away from her to hear what they said. The desire would go unfulfilled for a while however as they were forced to travel in silence until they arrived at the village’s gate. At that point, Sensei finally turned around to regard them. His gaze softened when it panned over to Toshiro and her, but hardened again when it fell on Shorirama.

“Uzume, Toshiro, please feel free to excuse us and get some rest. Your pay will be sent to your accounts” he told them in a tone that brokered no disagreement. She was reminded of the first persona he wore at their genin test- the one that had determined whether they would be under his team in the first place. The only difference was that now, he was deathly serious where he had only pretended to be earlier. She left, moving with Toshiro for a bit before splitting up to head towards her clan compound. Their run had tasked her body to its limit so the chance to rest could not be understated. Toshiro had been close to heaving at the end of it.

XXXXXXX- SENJU SHORIRAMA

Well, he had fucked up. It was clear that he had fucked up from the moment Sakumo had appeared pissed. The only issue was that he found it difficult to see just what he had done that was wrong. Sakumo had killed Iwabe in much the dame way Shorirama was going to. What was the difference in the fact that Shori decided to try learning something unique while he did so? What did it matter? Iwabe was an enemy, wasn’t he? He had killed a Konoha Chunin. What did it matter if the man felt a bit of pain before he died? Then the other question- the one he would never dare ask out loud, what did it matter if Shori enjoyed the pain that he inflicted? None of it mattered. The man was the enemy. His people would flood the Lands of Rain and Grass in their fight against Konoha in only a short few years and Shori would have to become as strong as he could to deal with them ahead of then.

Still, it had clearly rubbed his sensei the wrong way. The man hadn’t even been able to look him in the eye since he’d come across him in the forest. Instead, he’d asked Shori to follow him and then ran all the way to the village. Shori would have been fine if that was the end of it, but he knew he would never be so lucky. Furthermore, Sakumo was never one to avoid confrontation. One didn’t become Jounin without the power to speak their mind being a key part of their personality. Either way, there was nothing he could do as his Sensei sent away both of his teammates and began to march him up to his Granduncle’s office.

He knew what this trick was. His Grandmother had raised him in his last life with the lack of parents around so he had had more than one teacher walk him home as an excuse to lay into him for his behaviour in his Grandma’s presence. They hoped she’d back them up and that would lead to a more sustainable change in his behaviour. He’d made sure to get even worse in the few times events like that had happened. He did not appreciate being ganged up on. It seemed that Sakumo would be the next to learn that lesson.

The walk to Granduncle’s office was marred by the awkward silence that persisted between them. Shori wondered how the man would react. He could not say for sure, but he did know that Sakumo would not be getting what he expected. Tobirama Senju was not his brother. He was a much colder man. And he’d done his fair share of experimentation in his time. After all, how else would he have invented a jutsu like Edo Tensei?

“Go on in” The Secretary said upon spotting just who exactly was waiting to see the Hokage. Jounin had priority access to their Kage, and Shorirama was the man’s Grandnephew.

A/N; The convo with Tobirama is going to be long so I’ll hold off on it till tomorrow when I’ve slept on my ideas.