Chapter 41

The house had been destroyed, so the First had assigned them another one, much larger than the original. It had two floors. Madara had claimed the second floor without a hint of shame. And the first floor? Of course, they shared it!

The first floor was divided into a kitchen, living room, bathroom, and their separate bedrooms. Hashirama was puzzled. If all the rooms they needed for daily life were on the first floor, what did Madara want the second floor for?

Their daily routines were both precise. Every day, they woke a moment before dawn and washed up. Then Hashirama did his morning exercises, while Madara, still in his pajamas, went upstairs, where no one knew what he did. Hashirama was curious, but Madara didn't say, and Hashirama wouldn't go snooping. As long as he wasn't treated as an enemy, Senju Hashirama really was considerate and magnanimous.

Tap, tap, tap... Footsteps sounded on the stairs, drawing closer. Madara finally came down from the second floor, his long hair loose and uncombed. He still wore the bathrobe from the previous night, loosely tied at the waist. He dragged his wooden sandals past the kitchen and happened to see Hashirama busy cooking.

Madara was extremely picky and rarely touched anything bought outside. After a few times, Hashirama had no choice but to cook for the pampered young master himself. Madara was the first person to get Senju Hashirama to serve as his personal chef.

"Is lunch ready?" Madara asked lazily, leaning against the doorframe.

"Just about!"

Madara gave a quiet hum and kept watching the other man cook. Hashirama had a distinctive way of chopping vegetables, much like the close-combat shuriken techniques passed down by the Senju Clan. His knife flashed with a rapid series of thuds, and the vegetables on the cutting board were all chopped into evenly sized pieces.

What a good househusband... Madara thought, without a shred of mercy.

Having a roommate who could handle every chore saved him a lot of trouble. Otherwise, he would definitely have spent money like water. In this world, there was no Uchiha Clan—the wealthiest in the continent—to serve as his bottomless source of cash. The monthly allowance the First had given them barely matched what Madara used to spend in a single day. To keep two top-tier ninja from starving before their next allowance arrived at the end of the month, Hashirama had taken over the finances himself.

Madara tilted his head and smiled. "Does this mean we're living together?"

At that, Hashirama's knife slipped, and he nearly cut his finger. "Madara, what are you talking about?!"

Madara spotted his reddening ears and teased, "I can't tell whether you're innocent or just impure." These days, teasing Senju Hashirama had become one of his favorite pastimes. The usually warm and steady man was so flustered inside, yet still had to act composed on the outside. It never got old!

No matter how much Madara teased him, Senju Hashirama could never learn to stay calm and ignore it.

The aroma of food wafted out of the kitchen, and Hashirama set the dishes and chopsticks on the table. Madara glanced over them: four dishes and a soup, all appetizing in appearance, smell, and taste, and made exactly to his liking.

"Your cooking's improved again!" Madara praised him after a taste.

Hashirama smiled. "I'm glad you like it."

Ninja were used to eating quickly, so Hashirama's bowl was empty in no time. Madara was still taking his time, picking at the food. Hashirama waited for him to finish so he could wash the dishes, and remained seated at the table.

The weather was unusually lovely that day. Beyond the half-open window stretched a clear blue sky, with wisps of clouds drifting across it. The afternoon breeze carried the warmth of early summer and the birds' lilting songs.

This intoxicating peace, this easy and leisurely life... How many years had it been since he'd experienced anything like this?...

"What are you spacing out for?" A hand waved in front of his eyes. He came back to himself, realizing he'd been lost in thought for quite a while. He blinked, turned to Madara, and asked, "Finished eating?"

The answer was obvious; the empty bowls on the table had been piled up in a conspicuous stack, waiting for him. Hashirama's mouth twitched silently, and he resigned himself to carrying them off to wash.

Listening to the water rush in the kitchen, Madara sipped his lemon water and asked, "Hashirama, how much money do we have left this month?"

"What are you buying now?" Hashirama paused, an ominous feeling rising in his heart.

Everyone knew that when money was tight, basic necessities should come first. But with Madara's free-spending ways and carefree tastes, on the very first day he got his allowance, he'd gone straight to Ino Flower Shop?! Hashirama had laughed and cried at the sight of the pots of plants and flowers Madara had bought. That deep sense of helplessness was what had prompted him to take over the finances. His client: Madara.

"Mm, I've got my eye on a painting at Hayakawa's shop!" Madara rested his chin in his hand and smiled. "It'd look great hanging in the living room, wouldn't it?"

In that instant, Hashirama finally understood the sorrow of their elder, Nagakawa...

"Madara." Hashirama finished washing the dishes and dried his hands, deciding to have a serious talk with him. "It's only been ten days this month, and you've already spent half our allowance. We still have fifteen days to get through!"

Madara's smile didn't change. "Mm, I know. But you don't need to spend much on groceries!"

Unlike Madara, who rarely left the house, Hashirama had quickly gotten to know everyone in Konoha during his half-month there. The people of Konoha had accepted, with remarkable composure, the fact that there were currently two Lord Hashiramas and two Lord Madaras in the village. The ninja who knew more of the story were feeling conflicted. Could they imagine seeing Lord Hashirama buying groceries during his morning workout? Could they imagine Lord Madara sitting in a flower shop, smiling as he chatted up the young woman selling flowers? Especially the latter—the contrast with his usual image was just too much!

The ordinary villagers didn't think so deeply about it. Either way, they were both Senju Hashirama. The friendly women selling vegetables always gave Hashirama half off, and wouldn't let him leave until they'd added an extra handful to his basket.

"Even if I spend less, it still costs money. You spent a huge amount at the start of the month, and what's left is just enough for food."

Madara's expression was completely matter-of-fact. "What are you worried about? You're Senju Hashirama!"

That was a powerful argument. It left Hashirama at a loss for words. Looking at Madara's ever-present faint smile, Hashirama suddenly had a flash of insight. "...You enjoy watching me worry, don't you..."

"You found me out." Madara immediately admitted it with a smile. "Life's so boring. How else am I supposed to get through it if I can't have a little fun at your expense?"

"Boring..." Hashirama fell silent for a moment. "But I think... this is already pretty good."

Madara chuckled. "Don't get lost in appearances. Killing and war happen in every corner of the world. Otherwise, why would ninja exist?"

"At least the Senju Hashirama here can protect the peace of this place." In his own world, there was hardly anywhere that had been spared. Hashirama spoke quietly. "You once asked me, 'What kind of beings are ninja, executioners or arbiters?' I've thought about it for a long time."

"Have you found an answer?" Madara looked up at him.

"I had one once. Then I didn't."

If ninja were arbiters, how could they pass judgment on others when they were killers themselves? But calling them executioners didn't quite fit either. Many principled ninja had rules of their own, such as not killing women, children, or the elderly, and refusing missions from enemy nations.

Fairness, justice, peace, patriotism... What, exactly, was the standard by which a ninja should be judged? Those words sounded beautiful, as if possessing them put someone on a moral high ground. Yet when ideals collided with reality, the issues involved became so complicated that a person could spend their entire life struggling to resolve them.

"You have an answer, don't you, Madara?" He looked straight into the other man's dark eyes.

Madara gazed at him steadily for a moment, then suddenly laughed. "You've grown a lot, Senju Hashirama."

He poured himself another cup of green tea and pushed one toward Hashirama. His elegant movements reminded Hashirama of their first formal meeting in the Land of Snow. "I've never liked thinking about questions like this. You won't get an answer from me." Seeing the other man's eyes widen slightly, Madara gently swirled the tea in his cup and turned his head to look out at the sky. "You and I... are fundamentally different. We simply walked the same road, each with a different goal in mind."

After a long pause, Hashirama said earnestly, "Still, I'm glad to have you walking beside me."

Madara raised an eyebrow and asked, half-seriously, "Because you have one less enemy?"

Hashirama smiled, his expression relaxing. "Yes. It's not a pleasant thing to have you standing against me."

They looked at each other and smiled, and the tense atmosphere lifted at once. Madara leaned toward him and whispered in his ear, "I'm glad too."

The Hokage Building.

After knocking three times out of politeness, Hashirama opened the door.

"You're here." The First nodded to him. Tobirama happened to be there too, and looked awkwardly at Hashirama, unsure what to call him.

Hashirama was taken aback as well, but greeted Tobirama. "Good afternoon."

Tobirama relaxed, scratched his head, and replied with a smile. "...Good afternoon."

Hashirama looked toward the First, who handed him the mission documents. "Sorry for the trouble."

"It's nothing." Hashirama put the documents away. "Am I leaving tomorrow?"

"Yes. It would be best to finish before the end of the month. I'll cover all the expenses for this mission." Before setting out on an important mission, ninja could receive a travel allowance from the village treasury. The amount depended on the mission's rank and location. By saying this, the First meant that Hashirama didn't need to worry about the travel allowance, since he was doing the First a favor.

Hashirama nodded slightly. "Understood." He hesitated, then added, "While I'm away, please help look after Madara."

Tobirama asked curiously, "Look after him?" That was an odd choice of words. Even if he came from another world, he was still Uchiha Madara! How could he possibly need someone to look after him?

Hashirama explained helplessly, "He spends too much money, he's picky about food, and he never does any housework."

The First and Tobirama were speechless. "I see..."

Perhaps they should increase that Madara's allowance? Hmm, worth considering.

"I recommend that you don't increase his allowance. It won't make any difference, no matter how much you give him." Seeing what the First was thinking, Hashirama's mouth twitched. He absolutely did not want to come back to find Madara spending even more recklessly! So he told the First, "His old lifestyle was beyond anything ordinary people could imagine. Unless you're planning to sell Konoha to support him."

Tobirama murmured, "The Uchiha Clan in his world must be very wealthy..."

Tobirama's words gave the First an idea. "How about having him stay with the Uchiha?" They shared a surname, so the Uchiha should be able to handle him... right?

"Huh? Won't Uchiha Madara start fighting with him?" Before Hashirama could say anything, Tobirama raised the question.

The First smiled warmly. "You mean Madara? I already spoke to him last time. I told him Konoha's finances were a little tight, so if he started another fight and damaged public property for no reason... he could try it!"