New Konoha, Old Root

Konoha Year One, spring.

The air had once been thick with the nauseating stench of blood and rust, as if the reek of death and decay had wrapped itself around everything, leaving no room to breathe. But now, that smell was gradually fading, replaced by something entirely different.

It was the fresh scent of freshly turned earth, as if the land itself were breathing out the fragrance hidden in its depths. There was also the aroma of shaved wood, the faint woody scent of trees giving off their vitality. The two smells mingled, creating a uniquely fresh atmosphere.

Mixed into that freshness was the faintly bitter scent of grass, the smell of nature itself, making one feel the vigor and vitality of life. And the warmth of cooking smoke, barely perceptible, lent it all a touch of homely comfort, filling the air with warmth and peace.

This new scent was so unfamiliar to Uchiha Sou that he couldn't help feeling a little dazed. He seemed to have grown accustomed to the stench of blood and rust, while this fresh smell brought him a sense of ease and comfort he had never felt before.

He stood on a newly designated plot of land. Behind him were several wooden houses, their frames newly raised and still unfinished. This would be the Uchiha Clan's new home, on the... outskirts of the Hidden Leaf Village. It was quiet here. He could clearly hear the gentle rush of the distant Naka River, as well as the faint but lively bustle coming from the village center even farther away.

His dark eyes calmly surveyed the surroundings. His clansmen were hard at work, most of them wearing an expression he had rarely seen: a mixture of exhaustion and hope. Children ran and played in the open space, their laughter clear and bright. No adults immediately tensed up, shouting them down and dragging them back behind cover. All of this was a miracle brought by the man named Hashirama Senju.

It was also a cage being carefully woven by the man named Tobirama Senju.

Sou's gaze passed over his busy clansmen and fell on the rugged mountainside in the distance, where workers were carving into the rock. That was where Kage Rock would be. They said Hashirama's face would be the first carved there, a symbol of their dream.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a cold smile that no one noticed. As Madara's nephew, he had sensed the starkly different temperaments of the two Senju leaders earlier and more clearly than many of his clansmen.

"Sou, don't just stand there. Come give us a hand!" A booming voice interrupted his thoughts. It was one of the clan's elders, carrying a thick beam over his shoulder. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but his eyes were bright.

Sou collected himself. His face settled into a suitably warm expression, tinged with a hint of distance. "Coming."

He stepped forward and easily took the other end of the beam. He controlled his strength perfectly, showing the skill expected of a Uchiha elite without being so impressive as to draw undue attention. In the village's early days, keeping a low profile was a necessary rule for survival. Especially under the watchful eye of the perceptive Second—no, not yet. For now, he was only the Hokage's younger brother and most capable aide.

Work could calm a person. Sou coordinated with his clansmen, setting the beam in place and driving the joints together. His movements were precise and efficient. Though his Sharingan was not activated, his extraordinary dynamic vision and muscular control made the work effortless. But his thoughts had already drifted far away.

Uncle Izuna... If you were still alive and saw this, what would you think?

In his mind flashed the image of his uncle lying in Madara's arms in his final moments, barely breathing, and Tobirama Senju standing nearby, silver-haired, red-eyed, his face stern. The cold gleam of the Flying Thunder God Slash still seemed to pierce his retinas. That deep-rooted hatred sprang not only from the sacrifice of his clansmen but also from the loss of his family. The arrival of peace had not diminished it in the slightest. Instead, like wine sealed away, it had grown richer and more searing in the depths where no one could see. He had simply buried it deeper, layer upon layer beneath his calm and silence.

Just then, a cold and powerful chakra sensed the area, its presence faint but unmistakable.

Sou's movements did not falter. Not even the slightest trace of emotion crossed his face as he remained focused on his work. But every nerve in his body went taut in an instant.

He didn't need to look back. He knew who it was.

Sure enough, a few moments later, several figures appeared at the entrance to the compound. Hashirama Senju led them. He wasn't wearing the armor of the Warring States Period, but a white Hokage robe that marked his office, over dark shinobi clothes. On his head sat a hat inscribed with "First." His face glowed with an infectious, brilliant smile as he loudly greeted every Uchiha he met. He even patted the shoulder of a Uchiha boy so nervous he could barely coordinate his limbs, making the boy blush bright red.

Half a step behind Hashirama walked Tobirama Senju.

His short hair was silver, and he still wore the blue layered armor that allowed him to move freely. His face was stern, and his sharp red eyes, like the most precise instruments, silently surveyed the progress of construction in the Uchiha Clan Compound, the distribution of people, and the expressions on their faces. His gaze was like a scalpel, trying to cut through every warm, harmonious façade and peer into what lay beneath.

When his gaze happened to sweep past Sou, Sou bent just enough to pick up a wedge from the ground, perfectly avoiding direct eye contact.

His heart beat steadily, and his breathing remained unchanged. Yet beneath his lowered eyelids, a glint of icy fury flashed in the depths of his pupils. His killing intent flicked out like a serpent's tongue, only to be forced back into its cold cage. Don't look. Don't let anything show. When facing Tobirama, even the slightest shift in emotion could be caught by his frightening perception.

Hashirama and Tobirama didn't stay long. They made a brief circuit, offered a few words of encouragement, then headed toward the next clan's grounds. Hashirama's laughter faded into the distance, but the invisible pressure Tobirama had left behind seemed to linger in the air.

"Phew... Lord Hokage and Lord Tobirama really seem to care about us," a young clansman beside him said with a sigh of relief, sounding a little overwhelmed by the attention.

Sou straightened and watched the figures recede, especially Tobirama's conspicuous silver hair.

Care?

He scoffed inwardly. Perhaps Hashirama did. But Tobirama? He had come only to make sure the cage's bars were sturdy and assess whether these newly penned "beasts" were showing signs of taming. Sou could even guess the next move of the Senju's second-in-command: grant them power while isolating them. Raise the Uchiha high, then pull away the ladder beneath them.

"All right, back to work," Sou said calmly, his voice utterly even. "Let's get our homes built soon."

He paid no more attention to the distance and refocused on the mallet and the joints in his hands.

The blows rang out, steady and regular.

What he hammered into place was wood, but what he planted were unseen, cold, resilient roots. The roots of an old era, buried deep beneath the soil of a new one, waiting for the day they would break through the earth.

He knew peace was only an illusion. The fighting had never stopped. It had merely taken the form he knew best: concealment and lying in wait.

He raised his eyes and took one last look at the Kage Rock being carved in the distance.

His gaze was as still as a deep pool.