Hashirama × Lighthouse

Late at night, the Uchiha estate lay in silence.

After confirming that Izuna had fallen asleep, his breathing even, Madara sat beside his younger brother's bed for a while before picking up the jar and rising.

He did not leave the room. Instead, he formed Hand Seals, and a Shadow Clone identical to him silently appeared at his side.

The original remained beside Izuna, guarding this rare peace.

The Shadow Clone became a blurred afterimage that nearly blended into the night, silently slipping out of the estate and heading straight for the Hokage Building.

It was late, yet bright light still shone through the Hokage Building's windows.

Madara's Shadow Clone entered directly through a window and landed without a sound.

Inside the office, Hashirama Senju was deep in thought over a map spread across the desk and several scrolls, his brow tightly furrowed.

Tobirama Senju was beside him, helping Hashirama go through documents.

Hearing the noise, both men looked up at once.

"Madara?" Hashirama was a little surprised. At this hour, Madara was usually keeping watch over Izuna. "What's wrong?"

Madara's Shadow Clone walked up to the desk and got straight to the point. "I'm here about the Capital."

Hashirama breathed a sigh of relief and pointed to a nearby seat. "Sit. Tobirama and I were just discussing it. The intelligence Shinya sent back that you gave me, along with the situation Tobirama just explained—the situation is trickier than we expected. We're discussing what to do. The daimyo suggested..."

"There's no need to discuss it." Madara interrupted him. "Izuna has already decided to accept the invitation, and he's going to face them head-on to the very end."

The office fell abruptly silent.

"What?!" Tobirama's voice rose, filled with incredulous anger and shock. "Has he gone mad?! Does he have any idea what the situation in the Capital is like right now? Going there now would be like putting himself on a pyre!"

"Does he think his passion alone can stand up to all the Capital's deeply rooted prejudices and schemes?!"

Faced with Tobirama's voice, more forceful than usual, Madara simply looked back at him calmly.

Madara said slowly, "He made this decision because he knows who's fanning the flames behind this storm of public opinion."

The gravity on Hashirama's face instantly turned to astonishment, and he leaned forward slightly. "Who? Izuna knows who's behind it? Who is it?"

Madara's Shadow Clone shook his head. "I didn't ask."

"You didn't ask?" Tobirama could hardly believe his ears. "Madara Uchiha! I know you dote on him, but this is vital intelligence that concerns his safety and could even affect relations between Konoha and the Land of Fire, and you didn't ask him to explain it clearly?! What kind of love potion did he feed you?!"

Madara's Shadow Clone finally raised his eyes and gave Tobirama an indifferent glance. His gaze was perfectly calm, yet it made Tobirama choke on the rest of his words.

"It's not that I won't ask," Madara said evenly. "I haven't had the chance. He spent the whole afternoon learning the basics of Heikyoku and its traditional fingering from Matsuda Hōshi, and he was absorbed in it. I couldn't interrupt him while he was concentrating on his studies to ask him about this."

He added, "Besides, I could tell his tone was very calm when he mentioned the person behind it. When he talked about it, he actually..."

Madara's expression turned peculiar at this point. "He looked very disdainful. He wasn't putting on a brave front. He really knows what he's doing."

Hashirama frowned deeply. "Madara, that doesn't make sense. Since Izuna came to Konoha, he's hardly left the village, much less had contact with the Capital's complicated factions. How could he know who's pulling the strings? Could it be..."

His eyes widened slightly. "Could there be someone similar in his world too?"

The thought made Hashirama's heart sink. If Izuna's world was also full of such schemes and calculations, then what the child had been through was probably even more complicated and difficult than they had imagined.

Tobirama calmed down somewhat as well. "Madara, you have to get a clear answer from him. We need that information, no matter what."

Madara's Shadow Clone nodded. "I'll ask." He looked at Hashirama. "But until then, his decision won't change. He's not only going to accept the invitation, he's going to turn the Spring Banquet into his 'solo concert'—those were his exact words."

Hashirama stared for a moment, then slowly sat up straight and folded his hands on the desk.

"A solo concert..." Hashirama repeated softly, but his gaze gradually grew resolute. "I don't know exactly what Izuna knows or why he's so confident... but since he's made up his mind, and he doesn't seem to be acting without any assurance..."

He raised his head, looking from Madara to Tobirama. "Then what we need to do isn't persuade him to give up. We need to find a way to clear the obstacles in his path, so he can take that stage without worry and give the performance he wants to give."

"Big Brother!" Tobirama looked at Hashirama in disagreement. "That's too risky! We can't gamble Izuna's safety and Konoha's reputation on a child's 'confidence'!"

"Tobirama," Hashirama interrupted, his tone gentle but leaving no room for argument, "didn't we establish Konoha to protect the children, so they could grow up freely, according to their own wishes?

"The path Izuna wants to take may be risky, but if we clip his wings because we're afraid of the risks, how is that any different from the old Warring States era?"

He looked at Madara. "Madara, what do you think?"

Madara's Shadow Clone answered without hesitation. "I support him. Whatever he wants to do, I'll be by his side."

Hashirama smiled, his smile full of bold resolve. "Good! Then it's settled! Izuna will accept the invitation, and we'll make sure he's protected! As for those ghouls and demons in the Capital..."

A cold glint flashed in his eyes. "They want to lay a hand on a child from my village? They'll have to get past Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha first!"

Watching the two reach an agreement in an instant, Tobirama could only sigh helplessly.

"Fine..." Tobirama raised a hand and pressed it to his brow. "Since you've already decided, so be it."

But the two who had just been united against a common enemy instantly fell out.

Madara gave Hashirama a long look. "Hashirama, although I admit Izuna is a little childish, he isn't a child." And he certainly isn't your child. Get that straight.

Hashirama scratched his head and laughed it off. "Oh, Madara, don't be so nitpicky. Everyone in this village is my family, you know. There's nothing wrong with calling him that." I don't see anything wrong with it. He even calls me Brother Hashirama.

Madara narrowed his eyes, his tone turning unfriendly. "Hashirama, have I been a little too nice to you lately?" Looking for a beating, are you?

Hashirama met his gaze with a smile. "Oh, Madara, you've always been gentle." It's the middle of the night. You can't fight at all—or do you want to wake Izuna?

Madara laughed in anger, a vein bulging at his temple.

Just you wait, Hashirama. You're dead tomorrow.

Madara dispelled the Shadow Clone.

"Then I'll be going too, Big Brother," Tobirama said. "But I won't tell the daimyo about Izuna's decision until Madara actually finds out who's behind it."

Hashirama sighed. "Right. Let's hear what he has to say tomorrow morning first. Go on ahead, Tobirama. I'll go through some more documents before I finish for the day."

Tobirama nodded and used Flying Thunder God to return to his residence in the Capital of the Land of Fire.

After Tobirama left the office, Hashirama Senju was alone in the room.

The lamplight flickered on the desk, casting his tall shadow on the wall, where it swayed slightly.

He put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and let out a long sigh.

His earlier boldness and resolve gradually settled, giving way to worry.

His feelings toward Izuna had always been complicated.

To be honest, if Izuna had not been Madara's younger brother, Hashirama would not have felt much in particular about him as a person.

It was not indifference. Rather, Hashirama Senju seemed to have been born lacking a certain delicate empathy for the fates of others.

He could hold the greatest goodwill toward everyone and was willing to give everything for "everyone," but behind that goodwill lay an almost divine tolerance rather than an equal connection between people.

He did not care who others were, what kind of past they had, or what they would become in the future. As long as they did not threaten the peace and happiness of the "everyone" in his heart, he could accept them and greet them with a smile.

It was the same even with his own younger brother, Tobirama.

He had decided to protect Tobirama and could give his life to do so. But that was more a responsibility he had taken upon himself, something an older brother ought to do.

What did Tobirama himself think? Did Tobirama need or want that kind of protection from him? Hashirama rarely gave it any real thought.

As long as Tobirama was safe, alive, and somewhere he could see him, that was enough.

That magnanimous spirit, capable of accepting and believing in everything, was both his strength and his weakness.

He found it difficult to truly understand the inner worlds of others.

For that very reason, when the original Uchiha Izuna died and Madara flew into a rage before him, then gradually became gloomy and paranoid in his pain, growing ever more distant from him, Hashirama was at a loss.

He had always thought Madara was gentle.

That was no empty claim. In his eyes, Madara never killed indiscriminately on the battlefield, always tacitly held back in their duels, and cared deeply for his younger brother, fulfilling his duties to him better than Hashirama did.

Even when faced with him, an "accomplice" indirectly responsible for Izuna's death, Madara had still been able to talk to him as before, and even tease him occasionally, after his initial rage and outburst.

So when Madara grew increasingly silent, his gaze increasingly cold, and the vibrant flame around him—the one that had opposed Hashirama at every turn while holding him in mutual regard—seemed to gradually die out, replaced by a dark, unsettling obsession, Hashirama did not understand.

He did not understand what had happened in Madara's heart, or why that proud, fiery soul, which he had once thought he could see through at a glance, had come to harbor such a heavy shadow.

He tried his old methods to draw closer, to offer warmth, to half-push and half-pull Madara forward, just as he had countless times before.

But this time, his methods did not work.

Madara was like an island gradually closing itself off, politely but firmly shutting him out.

It left Hashirama, who had always relied on intuition and sincerity to move things forward, feeling frustrated and helpless as never before.

Then a new "Izuna" appeared.

At first, Hashirama did not care about this "Izuna" himself. Whether he was dangerous or not was really only a matter of determining whether he was friend or foe, then considering whether to accept him or eliminate the trouble.

He was simply glad that Madara seemed to have found someone to care about again because of his younger brother's "return," and that his emotions had become much more stable. That was good enough.

But as they spent more time together, Hashirama felt a long-forgotten sense of "surprise" from this "Izuna," much like when he had first met Madara.

If Madara was his fated "Heaven's Chosen," a companion who stood alongside him and helped him envision the future, then this Izuna was like a "lighthouse" that had quietly lit up.

He might not be as dazzling as the sun, but he was steady and warm, pointing out a bright path.

The children's laughter, the integration of the younger generation, novel and effective ideas for management, even the way he had begun to shift the nobles' stereotypes about ninja...

Hashirama was sincerely grateful to Izuna and fond of this child, who always had so many fresh ideas and whose smile could spread to everyone.

Yet as he watched the Uchiha Clan, Konoha, and even Tobirama gravitate toward Izuna without realizing it, relying on the laughter and changes he brought, Hashirama felt a faint unease beneath his relief.

That reliance was too heavy.

He knew how heavy it was to have people place their expectations and dependence on him.

Especially lately, with his appointment as Hokage already a certainty, all the clans in Konoha had begun to look up to him, and even he often felt unable to bear such esteem.

Madara never left his side, protecting him with great care, but in Hashirama's eyes, that was less protection than confinement, a one-sided dependence on Madara's part.

The children liked Izuna and would go looking for him if he did not appear. They were not afraid even in the clan lands of other groups, trusting that Izuna could protect them.

Even Tobirama—the Tobirama who had once detested the name "Uchiha Izuna"—was now sincerely worried about this Izuna's safety and making plans for him.

In the past, it was something Hashirama would never have dared imagine.

And Izuna seemed to have a dark past they had no way of knowing about.

But they could not ask him directly. Izuna's own reticence and avoidance left them able only to piece together guesses about what had happened in his world from his scattered words and the abnormalities in his body.

Only tonight had Madara stated plainly that Izuna knew who was behind it.

Izuna knew—but why did he know? Was there someone like that in his world? Then why had he not said so from the start?

Hashirama lowered his eyes to the documents on the desk, where he had begun trying to use tables, and sighed silently.

He hoped Madara could get an answer out of him. Not just to deal with the crisis before them, but also to find out what, exactly, Izuna was carrying beneath that seemingly carefree smile.

He did not want to watch someone important to him grow distant again because of pain they could not speak of, whether it was Madara or Izuna.

"Ah..."

Hashirama sighed again, rubbed his brow, and picked up his pen to resume going through the documents.