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A thousand and one vices

nolovivere
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chs / week
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Synopsis
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” was how his oto-san used to say, mistakenly believing that the meaning of the saying was that no matter how much good you do, you will still end up in hell. Anidja, growing up with such an interpretation, had his own opinion on this matter: if the road is so pleasant, then it’s not so scary to burn in the fire, Tobirama did not think about it, doing only what was ordered.
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1

The maple leaf swirled smoothly, obeying the breath of the wind, drawing intricate circles, like a dance, until it lay silently on the ground, on which grass rarely grew. The territory adjoined the village, so it is not surprising that the soil was trodden both by the feet of the inhabitants and by the wagons. Perhaps for the same reason, the trees rarely grew, thickening only after a couple of hundred meters, which, however, did not prevent the birds from singing, sitting comfortably on thin branches, saying goodbye to the sun and greeting the evening. Summer has just come, claiming rights, but the heat has not yet begun, giving way to Tsuyu (-rainy season).

It began to drizzle, foreshadowing a heavy downpour.

The rain will certainly interfere with the movement. On the other hand, you can get to the settlement "on horseback", jumping from branch to branch, you just had to speed up your step and reach the forest.

Tobirama just shuffled his foot dejectedly. The task was successfully completed, all that remained was to return home, report back to Oto-san, and the experiments could be continued. The mission was long and completely boring; Senju hated civilian life, so living in Akita - a village full of peasants who had not heard of shinobi - was real torture. He wanted to be home right now.

Surely Anidja is now drinking tea, comfortably lounging on the engava. Hashirama is a real gourmet when it comes to his favorite drink, so it's important to give something worthwhile if you want to surprise your brother. The younger only hoped that his choice was the right one.

After that incident on the river, despite the past years, the trusting relationship between them deteriorated. Anija always looked at Tobirama with a bit of disappointment. Sometimes it became unbearably painful to realize that you did not meet the expectations of both your father and older brother.

A flash of bright chakra attracted attention. The unknown clearly possessed a caton, so bright was she blazing in panic and rage. Something was obviously wrong. A ninja in an ordinary village? It is unlikely that civilians could attack this man, the flow was too powerful. Tobirama suggested that it could be Uchiha: the neighborhood and enmity made him sensitive to signatures, suspiciously notable to the clan of "red-eyed monsters", as oto-san liked to say. He didn't want to focus on the fact that his eyes were the same color — there are already a lot of worries.

Something had to be done. Akita is a neutral village that does not accept any of the sides of the warring clans, a kind of paradise where you can forget yourself, so if a representative of the Uchiha does something, it will certainly interest the daimyo. Yes, oto-san would be thrilled.

Having justified himself with this judgment, Tobirama was already preparing to continue his journey, when something rustled in the tactical bag attached to his hip. Tea. The tea that he wanted to give his brother so much.

Initially, the idea of a gift was visited after purchases at the market, in which for some reason an inconspicuous shop attracted the attention of Senju. The seller was an old man, white-white hair fell over his shoulders, and his eyes were closed, as if they had grown heavier with age.

— And I collected this tea only recently, — he seemed to continue his narration, despite the fact that there were no listeners. — He bred a special variety himself! Like sentya (-green tea, very popular in Japan) is fragrant, but what a taste! Sweet, it can't be compared to anything. — Significantly, he bent down to the tea leaves, waved his hand in order to inhale the smell. Noticing that this did not attract much attention, he added slowly, as if to show that "I didn't really want to" - For three weeks I hid the bushes with a calico net. An experiment, so to speak.

The cherished word "experiment" interested Tobirama. Is it really a new kind of tea?

— And what is it called? — trying not to show much enthusiasm, he casually asked.

The old man, not hiding a grin from understanding that he had found a buyer, said:

— Gyokuro (-a special kind of tea, until the end of the Edo era, only the upper strata of society drank it)

Tobirama doesn't know if this tea is as good as the seller claimed, but the idea of trying it in the company of his brother was too sweet to the soul.

But if something happens to the Uchiha, Anija will definitely not be in the mood to experiment.

It is decided, we will have to turn around and go back towards the village. Apparently, his brother's lessons about "world peace" were crowned with success, since, despite the illogicality of everything, Tobirama is ready for something like this.

The way back did not take much time, as the road was already familiar. However, it became strange that the signature of the chakra, already bright enough, began to burn stronger and stronger, burning everything in its path.

It was getting late, the rain was aggressively dripping, but first of all it was unclear where to go. The chakra was blazing somewhere on the periphery, it remained only to follow it, like insects flocking to the fire. It is quite possible that Tobirama, just like mosquitoes, will be burned by the proverbial fire.

Immediately, the silhouette of the man Anija cherishes so much popped up in her memory. Hashirama was always inspired, it was worth mentioning *him*, and could not hide it in any way. What's wrong with *him*? From what Tobirama could learn, *he* is loud, grumpy and rude, almost the complete opposite of Hashirama. So what did he find special about this truly ordinary person?

Pushing away memories, Tobirama focused on what was happening: the road led to Yukaku (entertainment quarter), the red light district. The quarter was so called only because the lanterns near the brothels were red, so that at night everything glowed with colors, mixing into a cacophony of laughter, alcohol and debauchery. The evening was just beginning, so there were a lot of people around who were not able to walk, let alone stand normally.

As far as Tobirama knows, there was to be a dotyu today (the name of the traditional parade of courtesans with an entourage through the cheerful quarter to the client), so there were a lot more people than usual. "A good opportunity to collect dirt," flashed through his mind. Society was not censured if high-ranking officials used the services of geishas or Oirans, on the contrary, it was believed that if a man could provide both a wife and meetings with elite courtesans, then he was really rich, but despite this, it was quite possible to eavesdrop on the conversation and find out interesting details. As they say, what is on the mind of a sober person is on the tongue of a drunk.

Senju disliked this, primarily due to the fact that representatives of clans were forbidden to use the services of courtesans, something about "purity of blood" and so on. This was especially censured by clans with kekkei genkai, such as Uchiha. On the other hand, what kind of morality can Shinobi talk about? Shinobi are not samurai with their treatises on honor and valor.

The eyebrows dropped down in displeasure, frowning. Thoughts of the notorious clan did not stop haunting, adding only more annoying headaches.

The quarter was boiling, shouting with delight. Yes, it seems the show is starting. Not wanting to sharpen attention on this, Tobirama moved forward to meet the chakra. It is strange that they decided to hold the festival regardless of the rain, although, considering how many canopies there were throughout the area, the question disappeared by itself.

The chakra led to an unremarkable brothel, which was decorated in faded dark colors, instead of the notorious red lanterns, ordinary aunts hung, not even decorated with any inscriptions. It is even more strange that no one met at the entrance: the housewives of such visits were sensitive to the rules of etiquette, so it was nonsense for them not to serve the guest. On the other hand, this is in his favor, since Tobirama was already going to endure the meaningful glances of the hosts and the embarrassed smiles of the Oirans.

Walking forward, stepping noiselessly on the tatami, Senju was amazed at the silence that reigned. Something's wrong. Did the enraged Shinobi do something incomprehensibly terrible during the time that Tobirama got here?

Risking to move fusuma away to see if there was a massacre, his gaze fell on an empty room at midnight. The idea was childishly stupid, which was not typical of Senju.

The tatami was not stained with blood, as Tobirama expected to see. The moonlight mercilessly cut the room in half, demonstrating the interior architecture, highlighting the flying specks of dust that became sharply visible.

The room has not been used for a long time? Impossible, the building was almost at the entrance to kuruva (a synonym for yukaku), there were probably always enough guests.

There was a noise from the left. Something big and heavy fell to the floor.

That's where he should have gone.

After all, such houses have always been built in a confused way, as if trying to relax the "buyers" before coming to the right room. This did not improve the situation, as the rustle of an unknown person came from the second floor.

Each new turn seemed to lead in a circle. The walls were monotonous, the lighting was the same, it was impossible to understand where the person was. Where are the stairs? Where is the north? Where am I?

What was happening began to look like nonsense. What if...

No, definitely not. It was worth stopping once again to cast darkness on the situation and just continue the way forward. In the end, the road will be mastered by the walking.

As always, Tobirama was right. Here's the ladder. Suspiciously dark, probably old. This brothel looked disgusting in every way, Senju definitely wouldn't want to come back here again.

Stepping onto the first step, the ears were deafened by an incredible creak. Clinging to the edges, continuing the path and peering into the darkness, Tobirama tried to figure out what was going on.

Another dull noise. What's going on there? Unpleasant associations flooded the consciousness, whispering loudly that corpses were falling to the ground up there. One by one, one by one.

The bright light blinded for a short time. The second floor was radically different from the first: colorful walls, a specific sweet aroma and a suspicious "fog" greeted the visitor.

Quickly covering his nose with his sleeve, Tobirama continued on his way, turning left. Why was there no laughter of courtesans? Where are the other guests? Why such a catchy atmosphere contrasted sharply with the deafening silence?

Slowly stepping towards the cause of the noise, Senju tried to get kunai, but his hands did not obey in any way, the body seemed alien. It seems that he did inhale something that was falling heavily in the room.

The light was on in a single room, the events in which quieted down as soon as Tobirama came closer. It was difficult to move fusuma away, but it was too late to hide: surely the Shinobi on the other side had already noticed a shadow falling on the translucent paper that had glued the doorway. His hands were not shaking, on the contrary, they were numb, not wanting to move.

The room was far from welcoming. There were indeed bodies lying on the tatami, bleeding bright red blood. One might have thought that all the residents of the brothel were in one room, but no, there were too few of them.

Three unknown women, brown-haired women in colorful kimonos were killed first. Remarkably, the clothes were not torn or pulled, it seemed that they had not even been touched, the folds were so perfectly smoothed. Men lay sprawled next to fusuma, apparently they ran to the noise, but could not do anything.

The low table was overturned, but it was too far from its original place. Perhaps he was thrown into the wall out of anger. Alcohol was spilled on the floor, mixing with blood and spoiling the makeup of the women, lying chest down.

The holiday was noisy outside the window, men and women rejoiced at the festival, insistently demanding to continue the celebration. People walked around the block looking for entertainment of a very different nature. None of them knew what was going on literally under their noses, the drone effectively hid it.

In the center stood Uchiha. Long black hair fell carelessly down her back, gathered with the help of kanzashi, made, perhaps, from peacock bones. The room was lit up enough to make it possible to see the small details carefully drawn by the master. Despite the fact that the clothes looked ordinary, the silk was clearly expensive. The man's whole appearance screamed that the man in front of Senju was not just an Uchiha, he was someone from the main branch.

As soon as this thought flashed, the man looked at Tobirama. The sharingan was spinning wildly, excited by what was happening. Senju quickly looked away, trying at the same time to figure out who was standing in front of him.

His neat eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips were compressed into a thin line. His pale skin was sweating all over, sweat glistened on temples. Tobirama could see a drop of sweat rolling down. The face was painfully familiar.

— Madara, — the eyes opened wide, recognizing the person in front of him. It was hard to forget this face — the heir of the enemy clan was especially despised by his father and especially adored by his brother. — Uchiha, what's going on? — since Tobirama decided to play an altruist, it's worth keeping the role to the end, at least trying to help.

In response, silence. The question was really stupid, no explanation was needed: most likely, Uchiha decided to just have fun with Oiran for a pleasant conversation, but he was drunk. Bloodline thieves? Were the Oirans really elite trained courtesans here? Was this room really a brothel?

A second look at Uchiha made adjustments to Senju's assumptions: the man was excited. The situation was clearly not conducive to such a reaction, so he was not just drunk. A drug? If so, which one?

Tobirama moved forward with smooth movements, forcing his hands to open defiantly in a gesture that meant that he had no desire to harm, removing his palm from his face, but trying to breathe through his mouth in the hope that this would slow down the effect of the drug, and his legs to walk, but it didn't help much: with each step, the body became more and more disobedient, as if being attracted down to the ground.

— It's okay, don't be afraid, — the voice acquired a soothing note, as if Senju was talking to a wild animal, trying not to scare it off.

The man opposite was breathing heavily, glaring at Tobirama. His hands hung motionless by his side, but his eyes were running, scanning what was happening. Blood dripped down my fingers to the floor, probably warm. Apparently, the fog in the room had the same effect on both. Suddenly, his eyebrows furrowed, and Madara, with a surprisingly firm step, rushed towards Tobirama, firmly grabbing him by the arm.

Senju twitched, but quickly came to his senses, trying not to provoke. Now it is important to show that Tobirama does not represent anything dangerous and his words about noble goals are true, since Uchiha probably will not want to trust him right away, given the general opinion about how the heir of Senju treats their clan.

But good intentions were not crowned with success: Madara only tightened his grip on someone else's wrist, grabbing Tobirama's jaw with his right hand. It seems that he wanted to look into his eyes, but the drug was so strong that all attempts were really childish.

Senju tried to say something again, but only angered the man opposite. Uchiha growled, he suddenly had the strength that he knocked Tobirama to the floor, whose hands at the same second dug into his chest, trying to push him away. The repeated crash of a body falling to the floor resounded in the room. Senju was not wearing armor: the mission was not just easy, it simply did not involve a battle, which is why Tobirama again regretted that he took up this task.

Madara moved his hand from his jaw to his neck, squeezing in a vice. Senju could not fight back, his arms and body did not obey, and the lack of oxygen worsened the ability to move, but he did not stop trying to stop Uchiha, still not turning to screaming. The hope that Madara would stop if he behaved quietly did not leave. In the end, it worked with Otho-san: when his father got angry, it was enough to lower his eyes to the floor and meekly agree, so that soon he stopped.

But it didn't work with Uchiha.

Madara roughly turned Tobirama belly down, with his hand buried in the shoulder blade. Senju couldn't see what was going on behind him, but he could hear the rustle of fabric pulled off his body with a jerk. His heart skipped a beat, it was worth feeling how the delicate fabric roughly pulled his hands together. Drugs did not deprive Uchiha of the skills that appeared over many years of service, as he began to tie his belt, threading between his fingers, preventing Tobirama from folding his hands in print.

— Uchiha, stop, — for the first time giving a voice, not overshadowed by a soothing tone, Senju demanded. Fear bubbled somewhere in my throat, making it difficult to speak. But the man did not stop, only got more angry, starting to look around.

Only now Tobirama noticed that there were still dead bodies lying around, it seemed as if they were looking straight into the eyes. The corpses had not yet begun to stink, on the contrary, a pleasant scent of perfume settled in the room. He will be dishonored surrounded by the dead by a man whose warm blood dripped from his hands.

The thought was so overwhelming that it was as if a new breath had opened in him, so Tobirama resumed his attempts to reach Madara.

Starting to twitch and in every way preventing him from pulling off his clothes, Tobirama continued to resist. The voice was hoarse due to the fact that earlier the throat was incredibly tightly compressed. There will probably be bruises.

Uchiha actually let him go, but did not untie his hands. The patter of bare feet was muffled by the tatami and moved in the direction of the exit.

"Did it really get through?", — Senju flashed through his thoughts.

Turning his head towards the door, Tobirama expected to see Madara leaving, but not this — Uchiha pulled off the belt from the corpse, jerking it away and almost tearing it into shreds. When he was done, he walked over to Senju, whose head he lifted by the hair, throwing back. The hand forcibly tried to open his mouth, but unsuccessfully: his teeth were clenched too tightly, — Madara was swinging to hit him in the face, which Tobirama could not stand: Senju is a shinobi, they are destined to take punches, but not slaps, like whores that were lying a little further away, — so he obediently opened his mouth, accepting everything that Uchiha decided to do, which, in turn, shut him up.

Looking satisfied, Madara returned to his seat, behind Tobirama, hiding from his gaze.

It seemed to Senju that it was not so scary to get into genjutsu now: what was happening was like torture no worse than what any Uchiha could demonstrate.

The man from behind began to pull down Senju's trousers, without ceremony with haori or shoes. Tobirama felt like a bitch for mating, he was treated so rudely. Uchiha did not bother to caress the partner, sometimes with pressure leading to the waist or legs. It was clear that he was only needed to satisfy Madara's lust. Is it possible that he would have started to happen to corpses if Senju hadn't run into the room? And this is the man Anija admires?

The trousers were pulled down together with the fundosi, exposing the hips and legs. Uchiha began kneading Tobirama's buttocks, smearing blood on pale skin and ignoring the twitching of the body under him.

It became unbearable for Senju to feel this: someone else's blood on intimate places, heavy breathing at the neck and fear of what was coming. Tobirama turned around to look into Uchiha's eyes, resigned to the idea that genjutsu was better than what was happening. Genjutsu is an illusion, and *this* is reality, but he was roughly pressed with his head to the floor, while Madara's free hand lifted his hips.

Calloused fingers, on which the blood had dried slightly, unceremoniously entered the anus. Did Uchiha want to prepare his partner for sex in this way? Anyway, it seemed to Tobirama that not two or three fingers were digging into him, but a whole dozen. As soon as Madara moved his hand back and forth, Senju felt pain incomparable to anything he had felt before. Initially, it was thought that he would be able to endure, in the end, he was a shinobi, accustomed to a variety of injuries, but these unusual actions seemed to be aggravated by the unaccustomed, were much worse than expected.

The torture did not last long, as if the man was doing it "for show."

Pressing his chest against his partner's back, Uchiha began to fit in from behind, as if aiming. Conveniently placing one hand near Tobirama's face for support, and guiding his penis with the other, Madara began to push inside.

It seemed to Senju that he was being cut in half, simultaneously sucking in thousands of needles. The pain rushed from the coccyx up the spine and stung the eyes, causing tears to shamefully come out. Tobirama squeezed his eyes shut, not allowing himself to be humiliated in this way. It was not enough for Uchiha to see him in such a state — vulnerable. Let it seem that Senju doesn't care.

The palm on which Madara was leaning was very close to his nose, which is why the smell of dried blood was clearly felt, evoking memories of endless past battles, but at the same time the stench of sake did not allow him to abstract, holding him tightly in a vice.

The attempt to look into the man's eyes was unsuccessful, it remained only to press his cheek to the floor, leaning on his shoulders to ensure at least some stable position, despite the fact that his arms were bent back. Tobirama could already feel them go numb.

As soon as Madara began to move and the tremors ran through his body, Senju felt as if the organs were being forced to exit through the throat: the stomach was felt somewhere at eye level, and the penis, which was stabbing from behind, was soon to pierce through.

A trickle of blood was quietly trickling down her thighs, but it was unclear whose it was. Someone else's or your own? Maybe it's a pre-ejaculant at all? The prospect that there would be not just blood in it, but also sperm, was frightening.

The memory of kaa-san before she died popped into my head. Kaa-san liked to say that "Senju is, first of all, fertility."

In clans whose kekkei genkai was so rare that it appeared once in several generations, the men of the main branch were blessed with the opportunity to get pregnant. It was considered sacred to have a child whose parents are of the same sex, since all children were great people later, necessarily with kekkei genkai. The Senju were among the blessed with their mokuton.

In order to carry out numerous rituals, in order to support future parents and to say goodbye, which varied from clan to clan.

If Tobirama gets pregnant from a single sexual act, then the clan members will surely be offended by this: how did it happen that the heir himself "brought under the skirt". This cannot be allowed to happen.

These thoughts raced at the speed of light, it was worth feeling that Uchiha lost his pace and krechpe pressed against Senju, because of which he began to kick, trying to move away.

The tremors did not become weaker, they moved Tobirama forward, forcing him to rub his cheek, rubbing that. Madara squeezed his partner in a suffocating embrace, and when he felt that he was resisting again, right before pouring inside, he bit his neck. The teeth sank in with great force, as if they were trying to tear off a piece of skin, and not just holding it back.

Senju couldn't stand the humiliation. It's not enough that he was dishonored, so he was also marked? Bitter tears began to flow down his face in a hot stream, dripping onto the floor, and his throat was torn by the howl of a wounded beast. Turning his head, leaning on his forehead and pulling his neck in the area of the bite, Tobirama, without holding back, began to moan, pouring tears.

Uchiha stopped at the same time, but did not come out, giving himself a moment of respite, leaning on Senju. After repeating his thrusts a couple of times, Madara finally took out his penis. Lazily untangling Tobirama's hands, ignoring the fading cries, he began to wrap his belt, wrapping the hem of his kimono. Senju lowered his bloody hips at that moment, lying on his side and hugging himself with his arms, not trying to cover himself.

The brunette, having finally straightened his clothes and caught his breath, began to walk unsteadily towards fundosi, disdainfully bypassing the corpses lying there.

Tobirama did not pay attention to this: he did not even have the strength to remove the gag. Squeezing himself by the shoulders, trying to stifle sobs with the help of his newly freed hands by simply covering his nose, not allowing a new convulsive sigh to undress.

At some point, the rage came in waves. He was angry at his attempt to help, at Uchiha, at these stupid thieves of the bloodline, who were now shamefully lying dead weight. Maybe otho-san is right, and all the "red—eyed monsters" are an incorrigible mistake of the gods?

With sharp movements, Senju tore off the flap from his mouth, immediately regretting: his limbs were tingling with unaccustomed pain, and his back felt completely alien.

As soon as the hysteria subsided, he gathered his strength and tried to stand up, but his hands were so numb that they barely held him. It was unclear whether the fog of the drug prevented him from seeing the situation or tears, but Senju understood one thing: he had to leave. It doesn't matter what happens when the corpses are found, whether the daimyo finds out about it and whether his clan will begin to suspect when they find out that the mission took place nearby.

Getting up, somehow getting dressed, ignoring the sharp pain in his lower back, Tobirama ran out of the ill-fated room. The descent down the stairs was painful: his arms and legs did not obey, he was inclined to the right.

Right before the release, it was realized that he could not appear in public in this form, he could not appear in public at all. Uchiha, no matter what anyone said, had a beautiful but boring appearance and could easily blend in with the crowd, which could not be said about Tobiram with his white hair and blood-red eyes.

Disguised as the henge of a man he once met at the market, Senju walked out of the building with a smooth step, trying not to limp.

The people around cheerfully walked slowly in the opposite direction, the lights of the bombori (— Japanese lanterns) shone brightly red right in the eyes, laughter and rude voices of men arguing about something were deafening. It seemed to Tobirama that everything was piling on him, the lanterns shone at times worse than the scorching sun, the melody of shamisen (— an instrument that somehow resembles a guitar?) usually inaudible, laid her ears. The chakra was burning unstably, and the mind was screaming to *run-run-run*.

Having lost his temper, he went straight to the exit of the village. There were drunken brunettes everywhere, capable of knocking them to the floor at any moment. The drug was acting terribly — Tobiram was beginning to feel sleepy, which could not be allowed. I just wanted to escape from here as far away as possible, without wasting time on renting a hotel and putting myself in order.

Having run along the familiar path from which he turned off quite recently, Senju did not risk moving along the branches, no matter how far he went into the forest: his legs simply did not hold his body, constantly bending, so there was a risk of simply falling from a height, breaking something.

Tobirama lost count of how many times he managed to stumble, still continuing to run. It seemed that red eyes with three volumes were watching him on the branches of the trees, mocking and scoffing.

Incredibly, he wanted to blame someone: Uchiha, that all his life they pursued him on the battlefield, then at home, his brother, who with his infinite optimism made him believe that everyone in this world is "white and fluffy", stupid women who hoped for a successful end to their adventure, but Tobirama understood that the only one the culprit of what happened is himself. He was to blame, because he decided to help, He was to blame, since he didn't leave as soon as he suspected something was wrong, he was to blame, because he couldn't defend himself.

A stream that was also named Akita purred to the left. It was unknown whether the village was named after the spring or vice versa, the settlement was old, as if it was originally located on that territory, so no one knew its history reliably.

It was necessary to head in that direction in order to clean up and finally throw off the henge.

While the trees rustled their melody, the rain began to drizzle. Tobirama had already forgotten how much it dripped, it seemed, only half an hour ago. Maybe it wasn't that the eyes were tear-stained and the legs were trembling, maybe it was the rain that prevented them from going, blurring the picture of what was happening and gliding into the forest?

The soaked soil squelched unpleasantly under the shoes, soiling. It was worth canceling the bath procedures, since it was still dripping from the sky: anyway, the clothes would get dirty again. On the other hand, it was unpleasant to fall asleep in this state, but there was no choice.

Sending a little chakra to his feet, Tobirama jumped onto a branch of a tree that grew next to Akita. Having settled down as comfortably as possible and tried to hide his presence with leaves as much as possible, Senju tried to fall asleep.

As soon as he closed my eyes, the world became much louder. Then the fish will get alarmed in the river, then someone will rustle in the crown. It always seemed that somewhere nearby a human or a accidentally lost animal was squelching in the mud, so Tobirama simply could not sleep. Every time he dozed off, he jumped up when it seemed that something was breaking the silence.

The look became more and more anxious with each awakening, paranoia rolled in waves, absolutely everything seemed suspicious, starting from the river being too fast and ending with a strange feeling somewhere inside of oneself.

At some point, the birds chirped their melody, and the sun began to rise. Then Senju realized that there was not much left to rest: very soon the forest would wake up, and he could not sleep.

He didn't want to think that the main cause of insomnia was not the sounds remarkable to the wild, to which Shinobi should have already become accustomed, but the unhealthy paranoia that appeared after the nightmares began to bother, it was worth closing your eyes for a fraction of a second longer.

Finally falling asleep, Tobirama was able to stay in this state for a very short time. The forest really woke up, the bushes rustled more aggressively, and the sun baked the delicate skin.

Jumping down from a branch to the ground, habitually ignoring the pain in his lower back, Senju tried to shake off the dirt that had stuck for a couple of hours of sleep, but only later realized that it was not just dried sand, but also blood. So, it is necessary to swim.

After examining the territory, which he did not do initially and why he was reproaching himself now, Tobirama began to take off his clothes.

At the same time, he noticed marks that were not on the pale skin just a day ago: numerous bruises on the neck and limbs, an abrasion on the cheek due to constant friction on the tatami and acute pain in the anus did not exactly overshadow his condition yesterday afternoon.

Without paying attention to it for a long time, he climbed into the stormy river as quickly as possible, ignoring the color in which it was painted, which was far from perfect red. Without wasting time getting used to the temperature, Tobirama began to rub his skin roughly, trying to wash away the reminders of what had happened, but the bruises did not want to go away, only acutely giving pain.

Annoyed at the lack of any decoctions that could be used to lubricate the body, in order to purify himself for sure, Senju got out of the river, without even drying out, pulled on his clothes. Uchiha was obviously careful with her, since he didn't get dirty, although he did the same with Oiran.

Immediately pushing away thoughts of this, Tobirama began to convulsively gather himself. According to the plans, he should have been in the settlement during the day, if he had moved out last night, but considering everything... Unforeseen circumstances, he could be late, arriving home only in the evening. It was worth moving out now, so as not to be even more late.