Tojo was more of a familial Clan than Hattori had intended for it to be. His standards had not slipped nor did he think they were at risk of collapse, but his cousin's children now made up a bulk of the pack's numbers. Both children and capable adults alike, they were all his kin. Feeling as though he needed to draw a firm line in the sand, Hattori was quick to seek out his cousin as he wove through the bamboo maze. Ease and comfort in his steps, as though he was destined to call this place his home from the very beginning.

Perhaps everything else that took place prior was just a roadblock, a delay of the inevitable.

It was not difficult to find the Taicho, his white and red dappled coat stood out amongst the towers of green. And yet it felt as though it had been quite some time since they'd spoken last, the new father no doubt had his paws full with his youngest litter. And hopefully his last, for a while.

"Raijin." He uttered in place of greeting, the low and serious timbre of his voice gave way to his intent. He wished to speak, to clear the air, in a sense.

Life had changed irrevocably for Raijin. He had a heaping pile of puppies and a partner to care for and every day brought a new adventure. Honestly, he’d never felt so content in his life, so absolutely happy and a part of him felt guilty…guilty that his brother would never be able to experience the same. The deceased Genji had two kids that would never truly know him, and he would never know them in turn. Raijin had no doubt his sibling would have made an amazing father, he’d seen him with the pups of Iga in their youth, as if it was something he was guaranteed in the future. But it had not been guaranteed, to neither of their knowledge, and now the spotted man was left behind, trying every day to be half the man and father his twin would have been.

He’d been working on the hut, as usual, and was near the outskirts, working to cut down more bamboo to patch a hole in the roof they’d discovered during the last rainfall when his cousin came. His low rumble of a voice uttered his name and the man turned, offering his Kaicho a grin and a bow of his head despite the seriousness on his face. Raijin had grown up with the leader and knew when he was being really serious, and though he was serious now it didn’t seem to be anything horrible or urgent. ”Hanzo, to what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked.

Speech

Hattori would hardly call this a pleasure. Dismissing the notion without even blinking, the Kaicho was eager to get to business, to get to the meat of the matter as they skirted around niceties. Not Raijins forte at all, evidently. He stepped up and took a moment to consider where to begin, there was much to discuss and the former Shogun wished to make himself clear. To ensure Tojo-Kai was a place where everyone understood how things ought to be how. How it would be, no ands , ifs or buts.

”Sedna and her children are welcome here.” And they would be for as long as the situation remained agreeable. Which was to say, unless they stepped too far out of line. He didn’t think it would come to that, he’d known- loosely, as acquaintances- Sedna for quite some time, but he was always aware of what could be. What might happen if he didn’t pay close attention. ”But instead of siring litter after litter, perhaps you ought to focus on the children you already have. Do you understand?”

In short, enough was enough.

The pair were, in fact, quite different from each other. Hattori didn’t beat around the bush, instead jumping right into it. He said Sedna and her children were welcome in Tojo-kai, the phrasing rubbing the diplomat the wrong way. Raijin was not an idiot, he was at least self-aware enough to know he had his own faults. However, what he would not be called was a poor father. Neither men had been raised by kind or caring brutes, instead they’d been mostly hands off unless it came to chastising or punishing them. There was much wanting in the love department and, while Hattori seemed content to keep with the hands off approach with his own children, the Genji would not have it be so.

The Kaicho went on to tell him that, instead of siring ‘litter after litter’, he should focus on the one he had. His grin faltered, brows drawing down over his golden gaze which flickered with indignation. “Hanzo. I know you’ve never had the best impression of me, and I know I’m far from the most ‘moral’ of men either, but I have no intention of having more children than Sedna and I currently have. I will see them raised, happy and healthy and knowing both their father and mother love them. After what we went through growing up, I will not have it any other way,” he said. It took a lot to push his buttons, especially with the thick skin he’d built to be around Hanzo, but somehow he’d found the chink.


Speech

Hattori let the man talk, listened to his noble proclamations with a blank expression and still ears. It seemed as though he was unaware of the whole situation, that as far as he was aware he had only sired one litter. That he was good and responsible, intended to take care of his own. Too little too late, when it came to his eldest sons. Assuming they were the only litter out there, an option that seemed less viable with each passing moment. But what was Hattori supposed to say? He didn't believe it was his business to point out the obvious, but it seemed as though Kuroo and Usagi hadn't yet spoken to their sire. Why the delay then?

Hattori felt a spike of annoyance, it wasn't hard to sense what Raijin was insinuating. Casting judgement on things he didn't understand, painting himself as the doting father as though Hattori was capable of anything nearly as bad as the leader of Iga.

”Then perhaps you ought to speak to Usagi and Kuroo. I am sure they do not feel that way about you, currently. Do not ignore that there are likely countless more bastards out there you haven't yet met, or realised exist.” His words were accusing but he did not speak with an overly venomous, emotional tone. He was stating it as it was, the same way one would acknowledge the colour of the sky or grass.

There was a lot that Raijin had never vocalized in his life, contrary to him seeming like an open book. He’d shoved so much down, hiding it behind the charming smile that he wore almost constantly, that he was almost unsure of what his emotions really were at times. The ones he knew best were lust and intrigue, the emotions that had helped him best as a diplomat, but his job in Iga had also been similar to a Kagema, or male escort. He was meant to wine and dine the envoys from other clans and give them whatever they desired. He normally had Geisha, Oiran and Kagema around for such entertainment, but if a member of the envoy asked for him directly, he couldn’t refuse. In fact, it was almost encouraged. The secrets that he’d learned of pre and post-coitus had been incredibly valuable, and that was his main objective; to learn as much valuable information as possible.

Perhaps, this was why he’d taken to indulging in carnal pleasures so heavily. It was something he felt he had talent in, as well as the area he had the most control. It was another way in which he and Hattori were two sides of the same coin. They’d both lacked control of their own lives when they were young but excelled in their areas of expertise; Hattori was a natural-born leader and fighter, but wasn’t the best when it came to interpersonal relations. Raijin was practically born to flutter from wolf to wolf, socializing and learning while strategizing and gleaning the best tactics to use, both in battle and in acquiring what they needed. Together, they were an unstoppable team…when they weren’t wringing each other’s necks.

The Genji man bit his tongue to keep from an outburst. It was no use talking of ‘feelings’ to his cousin. He would always be wrong in his eyes, always immoral and always a disappointment.
He would never be Takemikazuchi. He wondered how many times the Kaicho had wished it had been Raijin that had died instead of his twin.

Hattori mentioned Kuroo and Usagi, and for a moment he went still. Rationally, he knew what he was implying, but he refused to really think on it in that moment because it couldn’t possibly be true. The pair would have surely said something when they’d first met. Kuroo had even been happily hanging around Raijin and Sedna’s litter, doing activities with them and…oh god…acting like big brothers. It was too much, simply too much. He clenched his jaw, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He needed to see Sedna. “Is this all you wanted to speak about, Kaicho?” he said, distancing himself uncharacteristically in speech.

Speech

Hattori noted the change in his cousin's demeanour, so sharp and sudden it was unmissable. Like the tides shifting, receding in front of the Kaichos very eyes. He blinked slowly and decided he was done here, nothing more needed to be said for now. It was Raijin's problem, not his own, one he ought to fix sooner rather than lately. Hattori did not want to step into other's personal affairs and it felt as though this was enough, that he'd gotten dangerously close to stepping over his own boundaries.

”That is all.” He said, his tone low and final. A deep contrast to the peace of the forest.