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Hyuuga Tomie, as her name condemned, gives birth to twin boys.They are born within seconds of each other– so fast that all the time the head midwife has for Tomie’s firstborn is to pass him off to a junior to take outside, to wash and mark with ink so the two babes won’t be switched.The midwife has more time for Tomie’s younger son, coaxing him out slowly and carefully wiping him clean of placenta before placing him in Tomie’s arms.“My son,” she says, tears in her eyes. “My son, my son, my son.”Her son begins to nurse as soon as his head is close enough to her breast, and for just a moment, Tomie feels a flash of pride for her younger son.Then, she realizes his elder brother is gone, and she panics.“Where’s my baby?” She begs the midwife. “Where is he, where’s the elder son?”“Hush, madam,” the midwife says, gentle as a grandmother that Tomie had nearly forgotten. “The heir is right here.”The baby is passed to Tomie so smoothly that she nearly thinks that he had always been in her arms, but that’s not right. It doesn’t matter either, though, so Tomie says nothing about where her son had been.The elder son takes longer to latch than his younger brother had, but soon enough both babes are suckling, any post-birth wails delayed momentarily.“Their names, madam?” An official asks. The midwife and her juniors are gone, now– probably only sequestered in Tomie’s quarters, waiting until the official work is done. The mens’ work for the men, and womens’ for the women.“Hyuuga Hiashi for the heir,” Hyuuga Daigo interrupts, “and Hyuuga Hizashi for the branch child.”For a moment, Tomie flares with anger. Neither of her children are branch children– they can and will both be splendid shinobi, of splendid service to Konoha, and if either of them is in the branch family, that will not come true. Everyone knows that the branch family Hyuuga are the family’s trash– in fact, branch Hyuuga are too often passed over for missions because of how their skills are perceived. Tomie will not let that happen to her son.But she will, won’t she? Because there is nothing else she can do. She had married into the main house, and had bore the Caged Bird seal for nearly twenty years before she had been released. She has no power in the Hyuuga estate, and it’s unlikely she ever will.The official notes down Daigo’s name choices. “When will the younger child be sealed?”“After one year,” Daigo answers. “Any earlier, we risk brain damage. Any later, it’s possible he’ll become rebellious against the main house.”That’s not traditional. The child should be branded on the third birthday of the heir– any sooner than that invites brain damage, not any earlier than a single year. What fool would give a child a cursed seal after only twelve months? Maybe he wants to make certain that the boy doesn’t have any illusions that he is worth as much as his twin brother, or maybe he wants to give Tomie as little time as possible with both her sons free. Perhaps it’s a torment for her, to ensure that she knows that she is as involved in this as Daigo is, or perhaps it’s just a way for him to demonstrate his total control– he is clan head, and so he can do as he likes, no matter who it hurts. He needn’t brand either of his sons, if he didn’t want to– Tomie’s name has cursed her to twins once, it could curse her to twins again. Then there would be only the inequality of years, not seconds.“Is it not traditionally done after three?” The official asks. That’s right– what if Hiashi dies just after his first birthday, and Daigo is left with a son who was branded for no good reason? If he dies before they are a year old, then there will be no reason to worry– Tomie’s son will not be branded, and she will be able to be a good mother.“Traditionally, the heir is not a twin,” Daigo says, dismissively. “I want to ensure total obedience to the heir. There is no reason to delay the sealing.”With all the will Tomie can summon with her mouth shut, she curses her husband. Curse him for choosing her, curse her for accepting, curse him for fucking her and impregnating her with twins and curse her for giving birth to them. If there were any justice in the world, Daigo wouldn’t brand his son.But then, Tomie’s old genin-sensei had once said that the justice in the world comes from what you put into it. And if Tomie won’t try and make her own justice, none will ever come to her or her children.The registration of the new children is completed quickly and near-painlessly, and Daigo and the government liaison leave without a second thought to Tomie, who is swarmed with midwives and handmaidens as soon as the men leave.The infants finish feeding soon after the men leave, and one of the midwives– Hanabi, maybe– takes them and diapers and clothes them before she lays them both back in Tomie’s arms.“It’s good for them to get skin-to-skin contact,” Hanabi says. “It helps them bond.”Tomie is too exhausted from the stress of childbirth and the knowledge that she’ll be throwing one of her sons away to reply. All she can do is hug her sons close.The ink marking Hiashi as the firstborn fades faster than Tomie had expected– it’s gone within three weeks, and when one of the handmaids goes to redo it, Tomie insists on doing it herself, claiming fear of assassins.She marks Hizashi as the firstborn instead.It’ll only last a few weeks– a few weeks more, if Tomie allows one of her handmaids to redo the ink without spilling the secret. No one will remember or know except for Tomie, who can already tell her sons apart by their blinks, their fuzzy little scalps, their nails and their faces and the way they act. Her sons wouldn’t remember, regardless of who is marked firstborn when the time comes to be branded. Daigo would never know– he meets with his sons for three hours every week, always focused on Hiashi (or who he thinks is Hiashi), never once sparing Hizashi (or who he thinks is Hizashi) more than a glance. Her handmaids could never tell her children apart the way Tomie can, no matter how much time they may spend with her sons.The next time Daigo visits his sons, he finds the mark on Hizashi, and smiles at him and carries him gently.For just a moment, Tomie dares to think that Daigo loves both his sons. That, in fact, he was well aware of her ruse, and he would smile at Hizashi the way he smiled at Hiashi.And then, Hiashi wails, apparently discontent with his father finally choosing the younger son over the elder.“Quiet the secondborn,” Daigo orders. “He’s upsetting the heir.”Just a passing fantasy, of course.Tomie gathers Hiashi up in her arms, bouncing him and comforting him and cooing him the way that Daigo should have.Tomie allows the ruse to go on for only two washings of the ink markings. Any longer, and Daigo could get suspicious– could bond with Hizashi instead of Hiashi, and could notice when they switched back and could call down fire and wrath on Tomie for trying to fool him.She could have kept the ruse going forever, of course. Could have never traded the children back and could have left Hizashi to be marked the firstborn and Hiashi to be marked the whipping boy.She wonders if she should. She holds Hizashi in one arm, Hiashi in the other, weighs them against each other. Hizashi is already quicker, but is that enough to consign Hiashi to a life in the branch family? If it isn’t, why should Hizashi be consigned there? Surely neither of them have had a past life so terrible so as to demand repentance in the form of slavery to his twin, to have no eyes in his coffin, lost to wander the mortal world, immaterial, instead of being able to find his way to the afterlife.Tomie had never understood what her mother had meant, in one of her long-ago and near-forgotten lectures about how motherhood is the sculpting of fate, until just now. She controls the fates of her sons totally and completely– who will she sentence to a lifetime of slavery, and slavery for his descendants? Who will she allow the freedom to flourish as a man, as a shinobi? Which son will have children born to freedom, and which will bear a line of indentured brothers, sisters, cousins?Tomie looks down at her sons, one held in each arm. Her eyes are dewy with tears, her vision blurred by the saltwater. Neither of her sons should be enslaved, neither deserves to be branded. Hizashi deserves it less, since he was only enslaved by his older brother pushing past him in birth– or does Hiashi deserve it less, since he was already born first and already fated to freedom?But if Hiashi was fated to freedom, that most assuredly meant that Hizashi was fated to servitude.Neither of her sons deserve it, and so Tomie leaves it for their birthday. Surely she’ll have an answer then.Every eight weeks, she switches Hizashi and Hiashi. Surely she can be allowed to grant Hizashi this small kindness while he’s still young, while she can still switch them so easily without consequence. She can be excused this little indulgence, surely.Hizashi laughs a week before Hiashi. Tomie was just playing peek-a-boo with him, and he had giggled.Hiashi, lying next to his brother, had smiled and cooed and gurgled, but not laughed.Surely the quicker son should be granted his freedom. A smarter child would be more impressive as a shinobi, a better heir, a cleverer student.But Tomie knows, fully well, that she wouldn’t think that if Hiashi had been the one to laugh.Surely she can be granted some favoritism.Hiashi sits up by himself first, but Hizashi stands first. Hiashi crawls first, but Hizashi takes his first steps.It’s not that Tomie loves Hizashi more. She loves her sons both the same, but she knows she’ll be kinder to whichever son is enslaved. She will be kind to her free son, too, but there is not enough kindness in the world to erase the pain of the first burning of the Caged Bird seal.Tomie has enough to spend, but not enough to spare. She will spend all her kindness on whichever son has the swastika needled into his forehead, and leave the other son to find his kindness from the rest of the main house.She will bandage both their wounds, but she will only comfort the branded child. She will walk them both to school, but she will only encourage the son of the branch family. She will tend to both of them, when they’re ill, but she will only offer soft touches to the slave.Tomie’s entire family had been part of the branch family. She had never known the pain of being the only branch child in a family of unbranded main house Hyuuga.Even so, she knew the pain of being a branch family member. She knew the pain of the Caged Bird seal, and she knew the pity of the outsiders, who would do nothing but pity and tut and, if they were cruel or stupid or even smart, laugh. They would do all these things as though they couldn’t stop the consequences of the Caged Bird seal, as though none of them were more than five whispers from the hokage, as though stopping the Hyuuga slavery was as impossible as stopping the sun from shining or the fire from burning.But she could be kind to her own son. She could protect him from the worst of the pain. She could give him all the kindness, all the sincere, honest kindness, that no one else would ever give him. She could give him all the kindness that she had never had.When she imagines being kind to her unfortunate son, she always pictures him as Hizashi.She could protect Hizashi from it entirely, if she wanted.Five nights before their first birthday– the last night for two weeks that they’ll be allowed to sleep in their own bassinets in their own room– Tomie stays up late at night, watching her sons.Hiashi is marked as firstborn, but the planning had been ill-done. The ink is faded, only one good scrub from being fully vanished from his stomach.Faded enough that Tomie could have them switched and re-marked within the hour, before the guard would return from his rounds.Even if she waits, children Hiashi’s age dying in their cribs isn’t unheard of. It’s more common in the younger children– after six months, the risk drops enough that stuffed animals or pillows are usually allowed. Hiashi himself sleeps with a stuffed dog, a gift from Inuzuka Tetsuya, an old friend of Tomie’s sister.Smothering rarely leaves any traces. And even if it did, Hizashi would be safe, unbranded. He would become the heir of the Hyuuga, no need to be branded, controlled with such a burning leash as the Caged Bird by his own family.But Hiashi would be dead. And no matter what favoritism Tomie may promise to Hizashi, with his fate sealed, she loves both her sons. She can’t kill either son, not mentally and maybe not physically– the last time she had tried to kill someone, her arms had gone so limp and rubbery that she had hardly been able to stamp her seal on her documentation of discharge, weeks later. She could incapacitate an invader, could eliminate whatever threats to her sons may exist, but if one son threatens the other, just by existing– she can’t justify that, because they are both her sons and she loves them both. It’s the paradox of the wisteria, isn’t it? Every part of the wisteria is toxic, and ingesting any part of it in any volume can cause near-fatal poisoning, or worse.“Then why don’t we get rid of all of them?” Tomie had once asked her genin-sensei, when she was so small that she didn’t even understand his pity.“Because, Tomie-chan,” her genin-sensei had answered, “the wisteria is beautiful. And people love beautiful things, even if it could hurt some people.”Tomie reaches into Hizashi’s bassinet to stroke his cheek. Her son, her beautiful wonderful clever secondborn son, cuddles into her touch unconsciously.Will Hizashi be able to laugh after he’s branded? Physically, mentally, emotionally– will Tomie ever hear her little boy laugh again, after the Caged Bird?Maybe he won’t be allowed to laugh. Tomie had been scolded often for playing and laughing too loudly when she had been a child– maybe that’ll happen to Hizashi, maybe not. He’s the son of the clan head, but that could make things worse, could mean that he wouldn’t even be allowed to speak, if Hiashi had something that he wanted to say instead.“I love you,” Tomie whispers. Hizashi can’t speak yet, nothing more than mumbles and nonsense words, but Tomie knows he loves her, too.She takes her hand back from the bassinet.She could switch them, right now.Her hands shake at her sides.She loves both her sons. She would do anything for both of them– she loves them both more than anything else in the world. She would kill any councillor if they were hurting her sons-But aren’t they already hurting her sons? Her husband is going to have one of her sons branded, and she won’t do anything to stop it. She won’t even try and stop them both from getting branded– she already knows that she’s going to have to allow one of her sons to be branded. She may as well flip a coin, if she’s having this much trouble with it.She reaches towards Hiashi’s bassinet, hesitates. She loves both her sons just the same. She glances between them, cataloguing the differences– Hiashi blinks slower, has shorter hair, his face slimmer. Hizashi has rounder nails, softer hair, and is so much more outgoing.Does she hate her older son enough to switch him with his brother, to consign him to slavery?Does she hate her younger son enough to do nothing?She drops her hand. She loves both her children, just the same.It seems that she hates her younger son more, though.Tomie returns to her futon. She doesn’t speak to anyone until her sons are taken from and returned to her. Hizashi is red-faced, squalling– not the wonderful happy baby that Tomie had remembered, but now fully in the throes of whatever rage and depression comes from being cursed by his own family.Daigo dismisses it as the typical genetic deficiencies of a branch family member. Tomie wants to grab him by the shirt, wants to throw him to the ground and stand over him and scream, “You idiot! It is your blood and mine flowing through both their veins, the same bloodline tying them together, and it’s our blood! He’s screaming because you have branded him, because his father has betrayed his basest trust, and so have I! We are both the worst villains that can be found in this world, hurting a little baby like this! He is screaming because he is in pain, not because he is a second rate child! He is the smartest little boy I have known, smarter than his older brother by miles, and you have destroyed him.”Tomie says nothing of the kind. Her son is already branded, and there is no chance for him to marry up, as Tomie had, in order to get it erased.She just holds Hizashi closer, kisses his forehead gently, whispers, “I love you, no matter how much it hurts. You are my child, my baby boy, and I know I failed you now but I will never fail you again.”She lies to her son as easy as breathing.Hiashi speaks first.“Mama!” He calls, so loud and so prideful, toddling along holding his brother’s hand, because Hiashi is a kind boy. “Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama!”“Hiashi,” Tomie greets. She kneels down, kisses him on the cheek– not the forehead; that sacred space is reserved for Hizashi, who needs to be healed of the pain there– and smiles at him wide so he knows that she loves him.Daigo claims that it should be obvious that Hiashi would be the first to speak. The main family is smarter than the branch family, obviously; that’s how it’s always been and it’s how it’ll always be.Tomie wants to slam his face into the wall, wants to fight like she had in the War, wants to scream, “He isn’t talking because you nearly burned out the closest chakra point to his brain with your foolhardy ideas of slavery and firstborns and secondborns and piety! He is more clever than your golden boy by half, and you will never know it because he was born second and you will never be able to see him because you have less than half the brains of your despised branch son!”She says nothing, though, and just speaks to Hizashi softly, sweetly, slowly, until he says to her, so quietly on a quiet full moon night, “Hizashi loves Mama.”She smiles, and she knows she doesn’t deserve the pride of hearing her son’s first words be a full sentence. She should have switched Hizashi and Hiashi when she had the chance– she can’t hate Hizashi enough to consign him to slavery, but she might hate Hiashi enough to force that fate on him.“Mama loves Hizashi, too,” she whispers, desperate for these words, if none other, to stay with Hizashi as he grows up and suffers the cruelties of the world.At the very least, Hiashi is a good older brother. He takes to the role of oldest with aplomb, and decides that he has to guide and protect Hizashi from everything, regardless of the fact that it’s only six seconds that make him old enough to be the one to protect Hizashi.He holds Hizashi’s hand wherever they go, like he’s a kindergarten teacher walking with a student. They’re both equally stable, now– neither of them has much advantage over the other, excepting the one advantage that will never leave Hiashi.He is a kind boy, and Tomie allows herself to take pride in this one trait of her elder son.He is so kind– too kind, perhaps; the type of kindness that could get him killed in the battlefield or passed over for promotions– but Tomie won’t tell him that. The main house can afford that kind of kindness, the kindness that holds them back when everything else in the world is trying to push them forward. If it were Hizashi being so kind, Tomie would find a warning for him– but if Hizashi had been the one unbranded, she wouldn’t need to warn him.Hiashi is kind to the point that he will disguise himself as his brother and switch places. They still look so similar, only Tomie can tell them apart. Daigo still falters in that respect, only certain because of the bandana hiding Hizashi’s forehead or the seal that is revealed when the fabric is torn away.Hiashi, when he is in one of his mischievous moods, will tie a matching bandana around his own forehead in order to switch with Hizashi. It is always Hiashi who initiates it, and that is the only reason the two boys get away with it– if it were Hizashi’s idea, then he would be punished for overstepping his boundaries, and Hiashi for not appropriately setting those boundaries. But because it is Hiashi’s idea, Hiashi’s insistence, from start to finish, and Hiashi never once foists the blame onto his younger brother, there is no punishment but a fond eyeroll or perhaps a light chastising.Tomie allows herself to hope that Hiashi’s schemes will continue to the boys’ school days, or to their adulthoods, maybe. Perhaps they can be, not only brothers, but friends– and possibly good friends, at that, best friends.Tomie doesn’t know what she might do if her sons become enemies.Daigo does not activate Hizashi’s curse mark until he is four years old.He gathers the boys and Tomie into a small room, motions for them all to sit seiza before him, as though he is to be worshipped and not decried.“Hiashi,” he says– always addressing the older son first, always assuring the heir that he is more important than his cleverer younger brother– “this is something important that you will need to know for your future.”“Yes, Father!” Hiashi chirps. He never called Daigo ‘Papa’ the way he calls Tomie ‘Mama.’ Daigo, from the beginning, was for tradition, for filial piety and filial obedience. In theory, this would mean that Hiashi and Hizashi would respect their father, would worship him and quote him at every chance.In practice, it means that they call for Tomie first, that they go to her when they need help, that she is the one who gets to see them smile and laugh when they say her name. Daigo is a distant father, still away at the battlefield at heart, leaving Tomie to mourn his absence from his children.“Hizashi,” Daigo says, only now turning to face his younger son, Tomie’s baby boy, “this is something that you will have to come to terms with as you age.”So similar, yet so different– for Hiashi, it is an important responsibility for his future; something that will help him, teach him, train him. For Hizashi, it is already a punishment; something he will have to come to terms with as he ages, not something that will ever help him– for why would Daigo help his younger son, when he has an heir to spoil?“Yes, Father,” Hizashi says, not nearly as cheerfully as his brother. Daigo would take this as yet another sign of Hizashi’s shortcomings, not the distance that the man himself has been putting between him and Hizashi since Hizashi’s first breath.“Remove your bandana,” Daigo orders.Hizashi opens his mouth to disagree, but Daigo’s glare silences him, his teeth audibly clicking together as he shuts his mouth. He unties his bandana carefully, revealing his seal. He folds his bandana carefully, and stares up at his father.“Hiashi, watch carefully,” Daigo says.Tomie can practically see Hiashi’s eyes bulge out of his head, staring at his father. The distance between them can’t be even half the distance between Hizashi and Daigo, with how Hiashi so worships his father the soldier.Tomie keeps her own eyes focused on Hizashi. She doesn’t want to watch her son undergo the burning pain and humiliation of the caged bird seal– but she can’t tear her eyes away, either. This is a crime that she committed, and so it is a crime that she must watch so she can testify to her sins. Or maybe it’s the same way that you’re meant to watch your comrades die in the field, so you can testify to the circumstances around it.Will her son die today? Even if not physically– which could still happen, it’s happened before to worse branch members– he could still die in the ways that matter, his laughter and his smile and his clever words could be gone.Tomie doesn’t see Daigo’s hands activate Hizashi’s seal. Either it’s habit, from her years of being a branch member, or she didn’t want to see, didn’t want to know how to hurt her son any worse than she already had.Regardless, she sees Hizashi’s curse mark activate first, sees the realization hit him first, as it always will– the shock never quite wears away, no matter how many times your seal is activated. Then, after the realization, the pain– for a moment, so overwhelming, he can’t move or scream or weep.Then, the pain overwhelms him even more, and he screams, falling to his side, cradling his head in his hands as though it were a simple headache and not the pain of his father and brother betraying him.Tomie moves to go for him, to cradle him and kiss him and comfort him, to protect him from the pain of the life he was born into, the life that Tomie couldn’t save him from.“Tomie,” Daigo snaps. “Leave the boy be. He has to learn.”The boy. Has to learn. What does he have to learn, Daigo? That his father doesn’t love him, and that his father is training his brother out of his love, too? Why should he have to learn pain, when he can’t even read yet? Why should he have to learn about fate, he doesn’t even know the meaning of the word! He is her son, and she loves her son, and he should never have learned such pain.But Tomie settles back into seiza, because she is a coward. She was a coward when she hid in the trees and watched as those Iwa shinobi slaughtered her comrades, a coward when she had to be rescued by her genin-sensei from a lone Kumo bitch, a coward when she didn’t save Hizashi from this worthless fate, a coward now, as she does nothing but watch her son writhe on the floor.“Stop it!” Hiashi screams. What kind of mother is she, that her four-year-old son is the one to cry out against this injustice, while she does nothing but sit in seiza, staring at the slaughter like she always does? “Stop it! Hizashi didn’t do anything wrong, he shouldn’t be in trouble! I can be in trouble instead, so stop it!”“Hiashi, you have to understand,” Daigo begins, but Hiashi won’t let him get the words out.“Shut up!” He screams. “Shut up, shut up, shut up! Father is wrong and stupid, so stop hurting Hizashi!”“You will respect your father,” Daigo orders, but it seems Hiashi will do no such thing. He stands from where he had been kneeling over Hizashi, desperate to protect his baby brother, and rushes Daigo, beating against him with his tiny fists.“Stop! Hurting! Hizashi! Stupid!”“Hiashi,” Daigo says, harshly– even harsher than he ever spoke to Hizashi, and that is enough to stop Hiashi briefly enough for Daigo to grab his wrists and freeze him with a glare. “This is not a punishment for your brother. This is his fate, something he was born into. Some day, you will be responsible for your brother’s seal– if he begins to think that he deserves more, or if he threatens you, you will need to know that hand seal so that you can protect yourself.”“I have to protect Hizashi,” Hiashi protests, pouting– but his passion is gone. His father, who is so smart and who teaches Hiashi everything, has spoken his words and Hiashi has already absorbed them. His father is intelligent, so his father is always right. His father says that Hiashi has to hurt Hizashi, and his father is always right, ergo, Hiashi has to hurt Hizashi.Tomie can do nothing but watch as Daigo wipes away the first and greatest aspect of kindness within Hiashi. She can nearly see it happen, even though she can’t see Hiashi’s eyes– she can see his shoulders hunch, his arms grow harder, his fists unclench as his father speaks. After this, Hiashi will never be as kind as he had been before– he may still be kind, but it will either be tinged with pity or duty. Whatever unprejudiced, unpoisoned love and kindness Hiashi had had will be gone, and he will now have to work for it. His kindness will no longer be instinct– he will hesitate, now, when he protects his brother. He will see someone punish his brother, and instead of his first thought being that he needs to protect Hizashi, he will wonder well, maybe he did deserve it– after all, Father said so.“Hizashi is here to protect you,” Daigo says, patiently. “His seal is to guarantee that. And if he doesn’t protect you, you need to activate his seal so that he knows that what he is doing is wrong.”Tomie wants to interrupt. Wants to scream for Hiashi not to listen, to ignore his father, to please, please, stay the kind innocent boy that Tomie loves so much, the boy who always protected his brother and held his hand and walked alongside him and made sure that his brother was never anything less than he himself.But she won’t. She should, but she won’t– and she doesn’t even have an excuse for it anymore. There are no attendants here, she could interrupt Daigo now and disagree, and grant Hiashi his kindness once again.Tomie is still the same foolish branch family coward she was as a child.“Do you understand, Hiashi?”Hiashi nods. He is silent– maybe his kindness isn’t entirely gone, maybe Tomie could re-cultivate it. Maybe his kindness is merely dormant, not killed down to the root.“Good.”Daigo had stopped activating Hizashi’s seal when he caught Hiashi’s fists. Tomie’s son is still curled up on his side, face still hot and red with tears, the aftershocks of the pain still racking his body. Daigo barely spares a glance for his second son before he looks to Tomie.“Take care of him,” he orders, before he releases Hiashi and sweeps out of the room.Tomie crawls over to her son, unable to even stand up to walk to him. It’s as though Hizashi’s pain were her own, her own seal reactivating now, even though it was nearly five years erased. She lays her hand on his forehead, as gentle as she can, but he flinches away anyway– he hurts too much, and she even tried to touch where he was branded, where his father had forced that burning pain on him.“Is Hizashi gonna be okay?” Hiashi asks. He’s uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, sure of his guilt in this but unsure as to why he must bear it.No. Maybe. You’re never the same after the seal, but does that mean that Hizashi will be okay?“I’ll take care of him,” Tomie says, instead of answering Hiashi’s questions. “Go find Auntie Hanabi. I’ll come talk to you later.”Hiashi hesitates, but nods. He doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to bear witness to his brother’s humiliation, but can’t quite bear being separated from his brother, either. His role of protector is still so close– but not close enough, it appears, as he dashes from the room.Tomie shifts Hizashi so that he’s lying on his back. He’s breathing so heavily, it nearly seems like a fever– and it nearly would be, if it weren’t his father’s fault.He’s still crying. Tomie can’t remember how long it had taken her to stop, the first time that her seal had been activated– it was so long ago, now, but the pain in her memory still feels as fresh as a snapped femur.Hizashi had wet himself. That wasn’t unexpected– the pain of the caged bird seal could be too much for an adult to handle, and with how long Hizashi had been forced to withstand it, it was hardly a surprise. Tomie stripped him quickly and efficiently, wrapping him in one of her own layers, leaving her upper half clothed only with the padding and light armor that a civilian noble’s wife would wear. She lifts Hizashi in her arms– and he’s so light now that she wonders, struck briefly by a flight of maudlin fancy, if the seal had burned his soul out, left her son nothing but an empty husk.Maybe it has. Maybe that’s why he still hasn’t spoken, not even to call out her name or his brother’s name, or to beg for mercy.She carries him back to her own quarters, even though he and Hiashi have their own room. She stops only once, to order a servant to clean the room that they had just occupied. She pretends to ignore the wandering eyes– everyone in the Hyuuga compound is perpetually looking, looking, looking, because of their dojutsu and their general nosiness. She’s certain that they’ve seen things more interesting than an underdressed mother escorting her sick child.She lays Hizashi down on her bed, and only then do his tears calm. His face is no longer flushed so red, and his tears have slowed to a trickle. Tomie lies down next to him– softly, gently, kinder than her own mother had been to her– and gently dabs away at the saltwater remaining on his face. He keeps his eyes shut– clenched tight, perhaps, to hold them in place or to slow the shaking that came from the Caged Bird burning– but after a moment, he reaches out, blindly, to find Tomie’s hand and clutch it to his chest.Her heart breaks for her son.“Mama, hurts,” he whines. He speaks like he had when he was only two– no, younger than that, because hadn’t his first words been a sentence? He speaks like he had when he was only eighteen months old, or maybe younger– whenever he was too young to know how to put his words together. Not too young now, really, but too hurt to care, too much pain in such a little head.Tomie can’t do anything for him.She brushes his hair away from his face. He still won’t open his eyes.“Do you want a lullaby?” She whispers.Hizashi does nothing but nod.Tomie scoots closer, cradles her son close. “In a spring evening, they held a feast in that tower,” she sings. It’s not really a lullaby– it had been written by a poet whose family had been slaughtered in a war that wasn’t Tomie’s, but the melody is soft and sweet and it’s something that Tomie has memorized. “And cups of sake were passed around.”Hizashi’s breathing eases, slightly. The tune, at least, seems to soothe him– he likely can’t understand most of the words, yet, but he can understand the kindness and the love in the words that Tomie sings.“Then up from the old pine the moon rose, bright.”Hizashi’s face smoothes out. He no longer clenches his eyes shut so tight, but he won’t open them, either– the lights are likely too bright, any noise but Tomie’s singing too loud for him. His headache likely won’t fade anytime soon without medication.“But now, where is the brightness of bygone days?”Tomie pauses in her singing. Her throat is closing, her eyes misting.Hizashi doesn’t notice. Tomie stays silent for another moment, and then several moments more, until she realizes her brief lullaby has soothed him to sleep.“My beautiful son,” she whispers. She strokes his hair, but only once. For now, she can leave him to rest in her bed while she goes to speak with Hiashi.She climbs out of bed slowly, trying her best not to jostle Hizashi. He doesn’t seem to stir as she leaves, and she breathes a sigh of relief.She drops her kimono, changes into less formal attire, and goes to find Hiashi.He’s not in his and Hizashi’s bedroom, but Tomie had somewhat expected that. He wouldn’t want to sit in their bedroom and stare at the empty space where his brother should be.Eventually, she finds him sitting next to the koi pond, throwing pebbles at the fish.“Hiashi,” she says, by way of greeting.Hiashi doesn’t reply.“Are you ready to talk?”He throws a pebble at a koi.“Well, I’ll talk anyways.” She kneels down next to Hiashi. “Your father just demonstrated the Caged Bird seal on your brother.”“Why did Hizashi have to get the stupid seal?”“Because he’s the younger son,” Tomie explains. “With you as the heir, you needed a branch family member to be sealed for you, and your brother was the closest family.”“But I don’t want him to get hurt,” Hiashi says, throwing another pebble. “And Father said that Hizashi’s supposed to protect me, even though all he was doing was hurting Hizashi.”“Father doesn’t always know what’s best,” Tomie says, with the realization that she’s undermining her husband for the first time coming a beat later.“Is that why he hurt Hizashi?”Tomie takes a breath. How to explain to your son that his father hurt his brother for no good reason?“Father doesn’t understand, sometimes, how much things hurt,” Tomie explains. “So he might think that he’s doing the right thing, but it could be hurting Hizashi a lot.”Hiashi throws another pebble. “I don’t want to hurt Hizashi. He’s my little brother.”There. That kindness from before, that beautiful instinctual kindness has reared its head again, and that kindness had warmed Tomie’s heart so much and so sweetly.“You don’t have to, Hiashi,” Tomie says. “You don’t ever have to hurt Hizashi.”Hiashi sniffs. “Father said that I had to, so that Hizashi knows that he has to protect me.”“Hizashi knows that he’ll protect you,” Tomie says.Hiashi throws another pebble into the pond. “But I’m the older brother. I’m supposed to protect Hizashi.”Oh, her son, her beautiful kind wonderful son.“You’re such a good older brother,” Tomie says. She reaches out, puts her hand on Hiashi’s shoulder. “You will protect Hizashi, Hiashi. You’re a kind older brother, and you can protect him.”Hiashi sniffs again. “I didn’t protect him from Father.”Neither did Tomie, and it’s a much greater sin to fail to protect a son than a brother.“But you can protect him from the hurting, Hiashi,” Tomie says. “If you never ever activate Hizashi’s seal, then he won’t ever be hurt that badly again. You can protect him from being that hurt, even if you can’t protect him from Father.”Hiashi throws another rock. “I hate Father.”Tomie should tell him not to say that. Should ensure his filial piety stays intact, that his respect for his father remains.But why?Hizashi surely hates Daigo more than Hiashi does, in this moment. Tomie wouldn’t discourage that, why should she discourage it when it’s on the part of the heir?“From now on,” Tomie says, electing to ignore Hiashi’s comment instead of confronting it, “no matter what Father says, you make sure that Hizashi is safe.”Hiashi worries at his lip. “What if Hizashi hates me now?”“He doesn’t, my love,” Tomie says. She pulls Hiashi closer to her, gives him the kindness he craves. “You’re his older brother, and he loves you.”Hiashi looks up at her, eyes wide and wet. “Promise?”Her son, her beautiful kind wonderful son.“Of course I promise. Mama doesn’t lie.”Hiashi tackles her in a hug, squeezing her so tight she nearly can’t breathe, and cries.Tomie can dry his tears, just this once.Hizashi stays in bed for the entire day. In fact, Tomie has to carry him back from hers and Daigo’s quarters to his and Hiashi’s room– his bravery sapped away by the caged bird seal.Hiashi is already awake when they get there, silent for once. He watches as Tomie sets Hizashi down on the bed, but doesn’t approach until Hizashi is sitting up on the bed.“Do you feel better?” He asks– softly, tenderly, his innate kindness not yet melted away, but it’s clumsy, now, and uncertain. He’s walking an unfamiliar path, being kind to his little brother after the differences between them have been highlighted and made clear– no longer are they two fruits from the same branch, identical but not the same, but now two sides of the same coin, the same but opposite.“Yeah,” Hizashi says. He doesn’t reach out to his brother– he hadn’t before, and so he won’t now. If his brother still loves him, then Hiashi will reach out to him, first. But Hiashi is ashamed, too, ashamed that he couldn’t protect his younger brother– and he won’t reach out until he knows he is forgiven. An impasse of emotions, neither willing to bridge the gap first.Tomie nudges Hiashi forward. He stumbles briefly, and glances up at Tomie, who does nothing but hold his gaze as she inclines her head towards Hizashi.Hiashi takes another step forward, and then another, and reaches out and takes Hizashi’s hand.“I love you,” he says. “And– and I promise that I won’t ever let that happen again, ‘cause I’m gonna protect you from that, and I won’t let Father or anyone else do that to you ever again! I’m your big brother and that means that I’m gonna protect you forever!”Hizashi’s eyes mist over a bit, and he swallows heavily. “Promise?”Hiashi wraps both hands around Hizashi’s. “Of course I promise! You’re my baby brother!”Hizashi uses his free hand to wipe his eyes. “Not a baby.”“Not a baby, but still my baby brother!”Hizashi laughs, his eyes now dry, and envelopes Hiashi as best he can in a hug.They are still brothers, no matter what.Still brothers, yes, but more distant than they had been. Hizashi distances himself from Hiashi more than Hiashi from Hizashi. The differences between them were highlighted more painfully for Hizashi than Hiashi and he knows, now, which twin their father loves more, which twin he would choose. The resentment from that boils beneath the surface, and then resentment for thinking such a thing about his own brother. There’s a chasm between Hizashi and Hiashi that wasn’t there before, and it might be bridged one day, but it won’t ever be erased.They are enrolled at the academy when they’re six years old, just like everyone else. Tomie walks them the first day, introduces them to their teacher, Uchiha Yuuto, and kisses them both goodbye before she walks away.They’re in the same class. Tomie isn’t sure whether that’s a good thing or not– separating them would give Hizashi some freedom to be himself, to do whatever he wants, to make his own friends, but together they have the stability of being together and already having a friend.When the school day ends, and Tomie walks both boys back to the Hyuuga compound, they chatter her ear off about what happened throughout the day, what they learned, who they met and who they liked or disliked. Apparently, so much excitement was packed into just eight hours that they keep talking about school through dinner– though they do retread a fair few topics, now that Daigo is there and needs a review of the highlights. Still, it seems that her sons enjoy school, at the very least. Tomie could hardly ask for more.Hizashi seems to struggle in school. His grades are lower than Hiashi’s, sometimes by as much as fifteen points. That isn’t the Hizashi Tomie knows, the clever boy who could practically already read by the time he was enrolled.It seems to be the Hizashi that Daigo knows, though. He praises Hiashi thoroughly at dinner, after they get the boys’ grade reports. When he reads through Hizashi’s grades, his face is blank, his voice monotone.“I could hardly expect anything more,” he says, and Hizashi flushes red, either with shame or rage.Hiashi is the one who reaches out to Hizashi to comfort him, lays a gentle hand on his brother’s arm to try and rein in his temper, to protect him from their father.Tomie despairs that Hiashi can’t see that that is only pushing them apart. Hizashi’s anger is justified, and he is enraged because, in part, of his brother, and his brother thinks that the rage is ridiculous and unnecessary. But Hizashi knows that he can’t show his rage, and so he knows that Hiashi is right, even in his anger.One day, a bit more than halfway through the school year, Hizashi comes home in a rage, stomping through the door and throwing his backpack into his bedroom.“Hizashi,” Daigo warns– just once, only one warning for the second child, the one who wasn’t good enough to be free.It’s already been nearly two years since the last time that Hizashi’s seal was last activated. It’s entirely possible that he doesn’t remember.Tomie is already running to him when Daigo gives his warning.“I hate you!” Hizashi screams. And then more screaming, wordless and meaningless except for the instinct of help me, help me, Mama help me please Mama it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts Mama save me please Mama-She has her son in her arms even before Daigo stops the seal.He stands in Hizashi’s bedroom doorway, staring down at the both of them, the conquering warlord gazing down at a mother and son somehow left alive after he had razed their village to the ground.Then up from the old pine the moon rose, bright, indeed.“You will submit to me,” Daigo says, imperious. “Know your place.” He is the power here, Tomie, and if you submit to him then you will have no pain for the rest of your days. You will be comfortable there, Tomie, and you will have sweets and pillows and blankets enough to drown in, and there will never be any more pain, no more songbirds trapped in too-small cages. It will never burn anymore, Tomie, and Mama doesn’t lie.But Tomie’s precious son is still writhing in her arms, his pain still coursing through him, and Tomie feels his pain in her own body, her own seal miraculously revived so that she can burn alongside him.Daigo glares down at Tomie.“Take care of him,” he says, before he sweeps away– off to conquer a new land, to become the lord of the entire Hyuuga province, make the peoples bow down and submit to him as Tomie and Hizashi already have.Tomie remains bent over Hizashi, protecting him from the pain that she herself inflicted, five years ago.He didn’t wet himself this time, but he did sob– great, heaving sobs, interspersed with screeching whimpers and thin, ragged breaths.“Hush,” Tomie whispers, voice breaking. “Hush, hush, hush, hush, hush, my love, it’s alright now, Mama will protect you.”She rocks him close to her body, desperate to keep her baby safe, even when the only danger nearby has already passed on to somewhere else.“Why does Father hurt me?” Hizashi demands, once his breathing is even and free of sobs and snot. “He never hurts Hiashi! It’s not fair!”“I know,” Tomie says. “It’s not fair.”“Why did it have to be me!”Because I am a selfish mother, Tomie doesn’t say. Because I hate you more than I hate Hiashi, because I didn’t defy fate, because I let Hiashi be the firstborn instead of you.“I don’t know,” she says. “I wish it wasn’t. If there were anything I could do, I would.”Hizashi’s breathing hitches once again before he slowly, arduously steadies it. “I’m just as good as Hiashi, aren’t I?”“Of course you are,” Tomie says. “You are just as smart as Hiashi, and just as good as Hiashi, and just as hard a worker and just as talented and just as strong as he is.”“He’s smarter.”Tomie looks up, over her shoulder, to see Hiashi standing in the doorway. Another orphan of Daigo’s conquest, his home burned just as thoroughly as Tomie’s and Hizashi’s. The light does not silhouette him, but instead highlights him, illuminating him in the same light as Tomie and Hizashi instead of casting them in shadow.He enters slowly, placing his backpack down next to the doorway in its proper position before coming up to Tomie and Hizashi and sitting beside them.“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice thin.“It’s not your fault,” Hizashi says. His body is still tense, though, as he sits up and out of Tomie’s arms.“I said I would protect you,” Hiashi says. He wipes the tears pooling in his eyes. “I promised, and then I let Father hurt you anyway-”“You weren’t there,” Hizashi interrupts. “And I was the one who got mad, anyway.”“I still promised,” Hiashi insists. “And I left you alone, even though I knew Father might hurt you.”“I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you, anyway,” Hizashi says. “Father said so.”“Yeah, but I’m older,” Hiashi argues. “And the older brother’s always supposed to protect the younger brother.”“Yeah, well-”“Boys,” Tomie interrupts, laying one hand on each boy’s shoulder, “you can both protect each other. That’s what it means to be brothers.”“Yes, Mom,” they chorus– already too old for Mama, for their sweet little voices.“Hizashi,” Tomie says, turning her attention back to her second son, “would you like to explain why you were so angry when you got home?”Hizashi scowls, suddenly, and glares at the floor.“‘Cause Teacher is stupid,” Hiashi tattles.“Hiashi!”“She asked, and that’s why you were mad, anyways-”“That doesn’t mean you should tattle! And she asked me, not you!”“Boys,” Tomie chastises. She focuses on Hiashi. “Hiashi, you shouldn’t call your teachers stupid.”“He is!” Hiashi insists. He dashes over to his backpack, rummaging for a moment before withdrawing two crumpled sheets of papers. He runs back to Tomie and Hizashi, holding both of them up. One of them– Hizashi’s, probably– is covered with red slashes, a 76 circled above the place for the name; the other has fewer slashes, more circles, a 94 at the top.“What is this supposed to prove?” Tomie asks. Hizashi, next to her, glares at the floor, draws his knees up to his chest.“Look, Mom,” Hiashi says, laying the papers flat on the floor and sitting against Tomie’s chest. He stabs the papers with his pudgy little pointer finger, poking each and every slash on Hizashi’s paper. “‘Cause, see, Hizashi got this one right, we checked with Meiko who had the same answer, practically! And I got it wrong, but Teacher didn’t mark it wrong! And when me and Hizashi got the same answer right, Teacher marked Hizashi’s as partially wrong even though I got full credit! And when we both got it wrong, Teacher only gave me half off but he took full credit off from Hizashi’s!”Tomie leans forward around Hiashi to pick up the two papers. Even just scanning them is enough to prove Hiashi’s point– she remembers these lessons from what little time she spent in the academy, already twenty years ago now, and she can see where Hizashi’s correct answers were marked wrong and where Hiashi’s incorrect ones were marked partially right.Tomie hums as she examines the two tests. The answers are similar– almost all children are at the same level during their first year of the academy, no matter what anyone else wants to believe– but the scores of the two Hyuuga brothers are nearly twenty points apart.There’s definite bias in the grading of Uchiha Yuuto. There always is, in the academy– Tomie can remember when she was young, getting scores in the seventies and eighties while whatever main house member she had been bound to got nineties for the same answers. Most branch family members had a similar story– many of the teachers at the academy fought alongside a member of the main house at one point or another, and they had all heard the stories of how pathetic the branch family members were.Uchiha Yuuto was several years above Tomie, already a teenager by the time the war had started. Old enough that he and Tomie never really spent any time together, but close enough in age that he would have likely heard about her discharge. He could have fought alongside one of Daigo’s main house brethren, though he was too young to have fought with Daigo himself. He could have heard any number of things about the failings of the branch house, even if he never interacted with a branch member himself.“You’re right,” Tomie says. Hiashi beams at her, briefly caught up enough in his mother’s praise to forget what he was right about.“So Teacher was wrong, right? I tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen! He said it was some specific things he was marking wrong, but he wouldn’t tell me what!”Oh, Hiashi. So caught up in the unfairness of a world that had always been kind to him.Tomie looks over at Hizashi. He’s still glaring at the floor.“Whatever,” he says. “It’s just like with Father. You’re older, so they like you more.”Tomie’s heart aches for her younger son. He is so clever, but not clever enough to have sussed out why Hiashi being older than him matters so much to everyone else.“But it’s not fair!”“It’s never fair!”“Boys,” Tomie warns, before they can erupt into a full-blown argument. She places a hand on each boy’s shoulder. “It’s true that Mr. Uchiha’s grading practices aren’t fair.”“I knew that,” Hizashi grumbles. Tomie just rubs his back comfortingly.“I think I’ll probably go and speak to Mr. Uchiha tomorrow.” It’s not like she has much else to do– the Hyuuga had always been a private clan, and Tomie had never been considered well enough to be a part of whatever small social circle she would be, as the clan head’s wife. “Hizashi, Hiashi, is it alright if I keep these two tests to show to Mr. Uchiha?”“Sure, whatever,” Hizashi says. Still burning over the boiling pain of the Caged Bird, comforted only by the circles Tomie rubs on his back.“Yeah!” Hiashi is ever eager for the injustices of the world to be destroyed, confident that his mother will always protect him and his brother.Tomie folds her sons’ tests, tucking them into her pocket. She’ll have to examine them more closely later, when she’s alone, so that she can organize her arguments for Uchiha Yuuto.“Thank you for telling me, boys,” Tomie says, patiently. She retracts her hands from her sons– Hiashi first, only giving Hizashi a moment of comfort longer than his brother. She stands up, jostling Hiashi just a bit with how he had been leaning against her. “Why don’t you two get changed and go play? It seems like you’ve had a long day.”Hiashi grips her skirts tightly, just for a moment, looking up at her with all the hope and trust in the world in his eyes before he lets go and bows. “Thank you for hearing us out, Mother.”He’s only trying to sound important, mimicking the formal tone he uses with Daigo to try and flatter his mother. But the word ‘mother’ is wrong in her little boys’ voices, when it should be ‘mom’ or ‘mama’.“Of course,” she says, putting her hand on Hiashi’s head just for a moment. “I’m your mother. I will always protect you.”Hiashi’s eyes sparkle at her brief connection with him. She takes her hand away quickly, wary of the heavy affection washing over her.Hizashi stands, mimics his brother’s clumsy bow. It’s more elegant than Hiashi’s had been, unless that’s her favoritism filling in the gaps of his juvenile etiquette.“Thank you, Mom,” he says, the simple words comforting Tomie in his babyish tone.Tomie smiles. She lays her other hand on Hizashi’s head, gently tousling his hair. “Of course, darling.”She finally retracts her hand from Hizashi’s head, puts her hands together in her sleeves. “Now, go play. Mama will take care of everything.”She sweeps out of the room before she can be persuaded to stay a moment longer.In her bedroom– the one that Daigo avoids as though it were a graveyard, slipping in only under cover of night, when Tomie is under cover of sleep– Tomie sits at her desk. It’s a small, dusty, uncomfortable thing; the only wedding gift that Tomie had received from anyone on her old genin team and the only gift that she still uses. She retrieves both her sons’ tests from her pocket, unfolds them and flattens them on the surface of the desk. She opens one of the desk drawers to retrieve an ink pen and a notepad, noting down every single discrepancy on the tests, every single misgraded answer and every single point taken away from either boy’s test.At the end, she has three pages of notes on the tests, front and back, and a servant summons her for dinner.Dinner is quieter that night than it has been for several months. Hiashi speaks, on occasion, and Daigo will respond, but neither Tomie nor Hizashi are interested in participating in any of it.“Hizashi, I hope we won’t have any kind of repeat of that episode from earlier this afternoon,” Daigo eventually says, chopsticks scraping against his rice bowl.Tomie nearly sneers at him, but she restrains herself, instead having another pickled plum.Hizashi takes a deep, heavy breath. “Yes, Father.”“Good,” Daigo says. He sets his rice bowl down heavily, moving his chopsticks to his tuna. “You’ll have to learn your place sooner rather than later.”Hizashi takes another breath. “Yes, Father.”Tomie’s fingers whiten around her chopsticks, but she only continues eating silently.Dinner is finished in silence, the dishes cleared away by servants after everyone leaves the table. The time after dinner is usually spent in quiet meditation until it comes time to rest. Tomie instead spent that time reading through her notes and Hizashi’s and Hiashi’s quizzes, poring over every character and every slash, leaving nothing behind. She stays up late enough that by the time she is actually tired, Daigo is just slipping into their bedroom behind her.It’s the first time they’ve entered the bedroom at even remotely the same time since Tomie conceived.He says nothing to her, thankfully. They change into their pajamas separately, and their bed is large enough that neither of them can feel the other shift in their sleep.“I’ll be visiting the boys’ teacher tomorrow,” Tomie says. Daigo is silent in the darkness for a moment.“That is a duty of the wife,” he acknowledges. It’s as good of permission as Tomie is going to get.The next day, Tomie walks her children to the academy, even taking the time to stop in to warn Uchiha Yuuto that she’ll be coming in to see him at the end of the school day.“I look forward to it,” the Uchiha says, coldly. He reminds Tomie of the Uchiha that had been on her genin team– Naoko, was it? Naoko or Junko, whoever the current Uchiha head is. All the Uchiha were at least a bit distant, like the Hyuuga, but Naoko or Junko was the coldest that most anyone knew. Uchiha Yuuto, however, seemed to be trying to set a new record.Tomie returns home, her hands shaking the same way they had when Naoko or Junko had glared at her during their missions.She sits in silence, waiting for the time to come for her to walk to the academy. Her stomach does flip-flops as she waits, her nausea from her shinobi career returning to her suddenly. It strikes her that she can’t remember the last time she spoke to someone from outside the Hyuuga family, besides when she had first met Uchiha Yuuto– and had that even really counted? She had only said hello and told him Hizashi’s and Hiashi’s names; that was hardly a conversation. In terms of a real conversation, actual words and ideas being mutually exchanged, when had that been? Hadn’t it been her sister’s friend? He had given a gift to Hiashi, an old stuffed dog that was likely nothing more than rags and cotton after all these years.She hasn’t seen him in years.And now, after so long, she has to speak with an Uchiha– not even an Inuzuka, who would be so friendly and open, or one of the shinobi visiting from Uzushio, who are so loud they hardly notice when you yourself are silent. In fact, an Uchiha who is trying to outdo the Uchiha head in terms of cold and detached demeanor.In fact, an Uchiha who reminds Tomie of that Uchiha teammate of hers, who had always glared at her because of Tomie’s own cowardice.Tomie takes several deep breaths. This Uchiha is not that Uchiha, and neither of them are soldiers anymore.