"Then let us become the ones who break the cage and seize our own fate!" Hashirama suddenly stepped forward, extending his broad hand toward Madara and Kosuke. "I know you are tired of killing too. The three of us can join forces and use this power to protect the hard-won peace, instead of creating even more death!"
The morning sunlight pierced through the clouds, falling precisely upon Hashirama's outstretched hand and resolute face, making him seem like an ambassador of peace for the Ninja World.
"Ridiculous!" Madara sneered, the disgust in his heart deepening. "If a village is to be built, the Uchiha will build a nation that belongs to the Uchiha! Why should we walk alongside our mortal enemies of a thousand years?!"
Seeing the undisguised coldness and rejection on Madara's face, the final glimmer of hope in Hashirama's eyes went out.
He slowly lowered his extended hand, his gaze passing over Madara before finally settling on Kosuke.
What he saw, however, was the same distance and indifference as Madara's.
Seeing the same icy expression on Kosuke's face, the light on Hashirama's face suddenly dimmed.
The warmth and laughter that always filled Hashirama's eyes now seemed covered by a layer of frost.
The hand hanging at his side trembled almost imperceptibly—not because of Madara's coldness, but because of the nearly tangible frostiness in the expressions of the two men before him.
"—I understand."
Hashirama's voice was as soft as a sigh. With a look filled with heaviness, disappointment, and determination, he took one final, deep look at Madara and Kosuke.
He silently turned around. Under the morning sun, his figure looked especially lonely and desolate as he walked step by step toward the Senju camp.
As Hashirama's retreating back faded into the distance, Madara's low voice reached Kosuke's ears.