Chapter 35

In the original, Hashirama was the [First Hokage] or [First] or [Senju Hashirama] (full name).

In the original, Madara was [Uchiha Madara] (full name).

In this story, Hashirama was only called [Hashirama].

In this story, Madara was [Madara].

There were too many questions in his mind, but the situation left him no time to think. Hashirama's gaze suddenly sharpened, and he looked up as if sensing something.

A barely perceptible disturbance came from the trees and the wind—someone was approaching!

He didn't know whether they were friend or foe, but in this situation, avoiding them was the wisest choice. He acted at once, bending down to pick Madara up before vanishing from the woods.

A moment later, a group of ninja appeared where they had been. A Ninja Dog followed the lead ninja. Sharp-eyed, he spotted a dark red smear of blood on the ground. After searching the area, he turned to the ninja behind him and said, "Ino, go back and report to Lord Hokage that the intruder in the Altar area is gone! The rest of you, come with me to pursue!"

With Hashirama's abilities, there was no way these ninja would catch him. Carrying Madara, he headed south, carefully erasing every trace along the way. In less than half a day, he had crossed the not particularly large stretch of woods.

A valley lay ahead. Standing on a slope, Hashirama gazed out at the view, and the landscape opened up before him. Beneath the blue sky, mountain ranges rose and fell, and rivers and streams winding between them shimmered in the midday sun. Madara still hadn't woken in his arms. Hashirama tightened his hold around Madara's waist, took a deep breath, then leaped down, pushing off the rocks along the cliff face.

Not far from the foot of the mountain stood a waterfall. As Hashirama slowly approached, he felt a cool dampness on his face; a fine mist from the splashing water drifted toward him. He looked up at the white ribbon of falling water and lost himself in thought for a moment.

This was... that place!

At last, he understood where that inexplicable sense of familiarity had come from. The Senju Clan was responsible for surveying and mapping the terrain of the area in the Land of Fire where they planned to build a city. He had personally come here before—it was the closest valley to the place where he and Madara had planned to build their city!

They had crossed at least half the Land of Fire to get here from the area where the Nine-Tails had been sealed! It was true that the Nine-Tails could use space-time abilities, but its chakra had been sealed then. How could it have...

His shock lasted only an instant before reason took over. What was done was done. The Land of Fire was currently engulfed in war, and this place was still some distance from the strongholds of both clans. Most urgent was to treat Madara, then find a chance to contact the clan.

With that in mind, he found a flat rock and carefully lowered Madara onto it, kneeling beside him. Blood seeped through the clothes over Madara's abdomen. The bloodstained part of his white inner robe had dried stiff and stuck to the wound. For some reason, chakra couldn't heal him, so Hashirama could only use the most basic first aid. He tore off a strip of cloth, soaked it in the stream beneath the waterfall, then used the water to slowly loosen the robe from the wound. A few clumps of wild hemostatic herbs grew among the trees. He washed and chewed them, then applied them to the wound on Madara's abdomen and wrapped a clean bandage around his waist, winding it round and round. Once he had treated the external injury, Hashirama felt Madara's forehead. Good, no fever.

The injury wasn't serious to begin with. With a ninja's recovery, it was the kind of wound that normally wouldn't even need attention—so why hadn't he woken up?

Hashirama tried channeling chakra into him again, but it still didn't work.

Things didn't seem as optimistic as they appeared. Hashirama pondered. Could it be the Nine-Tails?

...Whatever the reason, he had to get Madara back to the Uchiha Clan first.

Hashirama found some wild fruit nearby to restore his strength, then sat down to rest. Madara lay quietly on the flat rock, his complexion much better, no longer as pale as before. His breathing was light and even, and without realizing it, he maintained the habits of a top ninja hiding his presence. Hashirama remembered that Madara walked the same way, each step as silent as if he were carrying out a secret mission, perfectly suppressing his presence every moment.

Was it habit, or caution? Perhaps both, Hashirama thought.

And yet, a man who planned every move, excelled at manipulating people, was skilled in calligraphy and painting, enjoyed the finer things in life, and pursued power... simply stood apart from other ninja.

Now Madara's brow was relaxed, the corners of his pressed lips faintly upturned, giving him an utterly peaceful air.

He didn't look at all like the powerful man who had orchestrated upheavals and stirred the entire continent's affairs.

Madara's long hair lay pressed against the rock behind him, spread out wildly without a hair tie to hold it back. Hashirama reached over and lifted a lock, running his fingers along it. It was smooth and glossy black, but a little stiff to the touch—so he let it fall. He glanced back at Madara, a smile appearing unconsciously on his lips. Generally speaking, people with coarse hair were impulsive, straightforward, and tenacious. Except for the last trait, none of those qualities seemed to fit Madara... It seemed there were no absolutes. He also understood why Madara kept his hair long and tied back. If he wore it short with hair like that, it would stick straight up just like Tobirama's!

After waiting a while, Hashirama looked at the man who showed no signs of waking, then at the sky, where clouds were gathering. He formed Hand Seals and used Wood Release to clear away their traces, then picked Madara up again and left.

If he remembered correctly, continuing south from here would bring them to the nearest town by dusk. It didn't matter where Hashirama stayed, but Madara's condition couldn't be allowed to worsen.

That night, the man in the office was still reviewing documents. Suddenly, there was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in."

"Lord Hokage." The visitor was the lead ninja who had been in charge of the search that morning. His shoulders were dotted with rain. He came inside, closed the door behind him, and shut out the sound of the rain.

"Did you find the person who intruded into the Altar area?"

"No. The person is powerful and highly skilled at covering their tracks. And..." The ninja hesitated before continuing. "And there were traces of Wood Release beneath the waterfall at the Valley of the End."

"Wood Release?" Senju Hashirama was startled. Wood Release was exclusive to the Senju Clan, and he was the only one of the current generation who could use it. He said sternly, "Are you sure?"

The ninja nodded. He had followed Senju Hashirama for many years and knew his Wood Release well.

Senju Hashirama pondered for a long while without finding an answer. He then ordered, "Keep investigating. You can expand the search area. Report anything you find immediately!"

At the same time, the Uchiha mansion was as cold as the dead of winter.

The main house was unlit, and the floor was a mess. Teacups and water glasses had been swept down with such force that they lay shattered everywhere. Uchiha Madara sat alone in the vast room, his entire body wreathed in killing intent made almost tangible.

His hands were clenched so tightly they seemed ready to draw blood. In the darkness, his Sharingan glowed a shocking red, like the eyes of an asura.

Years of composure were destroyed in an instant. With a sweep of his sleeve, he unleashed a massive burst of chakra that shattered the entire residence. As the main house crashed down, he let out a furious roar: "—Nine-Tails!!!"

Traveling by the light of his hazy memories inevitably cost him some time. By the time Hashirama found the town, the evening sky had begun to rain.

The raindrops of late spring were large, but unlike summer rain, they didn't sting the face. Instead, they carried a chill, like dew. Madara wore only his inner robe and a white outer shirt, and he was still wounded. Hashirama therefore released chakra to form a barrier that kept the rain off them. To ordinary people, it must have seemed strange to see him walking through the rain without getting wet.

"Excuse me, do you have any rooms available?" Hashirama knocked on the half-open door of an inn and called inside.

"Yes, yes, we do!" The sound of wooden sandals clattering down the stairs came from within. The proprietress wore a plain kimono and looked to be in her forties or fifties. Her thin eyebrows curved gently, and her hair was neatly arranged. She had a rather kind face. She opened the door and said, "Come in."

Hashirama nodded slightly, thanked her, and stepped inside. He looked around. The inn was very tidy, its soft lamplight filling the room with warmth. A pretty winter jasmine plant stood in the corner.

"Would you like one room or—" The proprietress glanced at the person in his arms and smiled knowingly. "I see, one room, right?"

Hashirama was taken aback, then nodded, not quite understanding her attitude. Madara did need someone close by to look after him.

"Very well, the Ding-style Room is available. It's cold out there in all this rain. Would you like something to eat?" The proprietress warmly showed him to the room. It was a typical Japanese-style room, with a wooden tea table, a large tatami mat, and a simple picture hanging on the wall. It was clean and pleasant.

"Please bring us a bowl of rice porridge and some water." Hashirama nodded. Madara hadn't eaten all day. Some liquid food would help tide him over.

The proprietress smiled and agreed, then backed toward the door in small steps. Before leaving, she even praised him: "Your wife is beautiful!"

Hashirama hurriedly explained, "She's not my wife." He looked down at Madara, who still hadn't woken. To avoid the wound on Madara's abdomen, he had carried him in his arms. Now Madara's face was turned inward against Hashirama's shoulder, leaving only his long, dark hair and a glimpse of his pale profile visible. Uchiha faces tended to be rather delicate and handsome. No wonder the proprietress had mistaken him for a woman.

"How could I mistake you?" The proprietress covered her mouth and laughed. "If she's not your wife, she's your lover, then. There's no need to be shy. We've all been young once. When I was young..."

Watching the proprietress chatter away with such enthusiasm, Hashirama experienced a feeling of speechlessness for the first time.

"You look to be only in your twenties. It's fine to go out and have some fun, but if you've eloped, don't blame me for lecturing you. The world is such a mess these days. You could run into bad people anywhere. Wandering ninja, down-on-their-luck samurai—if they come across someone with a little money, they'll do anything. Things are a bit better here in the Land of Fire, thanks to Lord Hokage establishing the Ninja Village. There are fewer bandits around here, and the wandering ninja have settled down somewhat. Even here, when do you ever see anyone going out for a stroll at night? If there's a problem, you should talk it over with your family. Eloping is never a good solution!"

Establishing a Ninja Village? Hashirama's heart jolted. He had no time to dwell on her talk of eloping and hurriedly asked, "The Hokage? Who is that?" He didn't remember anyone by that name.

"You don't know?" The proprietress looked at him in surprise, then seemed to understand. Perhaps he was from some remote little country. "He's the leader of Konoha, the one who brought peace to the warring world!"

"What's his name?"

"I think it's... Senju Hashirama."