Chapter 11

Madara grinned, hands on his hips, suddenly struck by the urge to tease Hashirama. He spoke in a joking tone.

"What's wrong? Not feeling down all of a sudden this time? Judging by your voice, you seem to be having a rough time! What happened?"

"You're the one who's acting strange! I'm doing terrifyingly well right now!"

Although Hashirama said he was fine, his tone was incredibly dejected. Madara immediately thought of his own situation; while the loss of his mother and brother pained him deeply, the dead were gone, and at his age, he wasn't prone to such violent emotional swings. On the contrary, his living, blind younger brother was a greater source of worry. He wanted someone to talk to—someone familiar yet a stranger, someone who wouldn't report his words to his father. Of course, the other person had to voice their troubles first so that Madara could naturally follow suit. With this in mind, Madara spoke again, his tone laced with provocation.

"Oh? 'Terrifyingly well'? Stop pretending. If you have something bothering you, saying it out loud might make you feel better!"

Hashirama shook his head slightly. He picked up a stone as if to skip it across the water, but instead threw it high into the air and let it drop into the lake.

"It's nothing!"

Seeing that action, which looked like a man who had lost his fighting spirit, Madara urged him again.

"Come on! I'm doing you a favor by acting as your sounding board!"

Hashirama shook his head, determined not to show his sorrow in front of Madara, who was, after all, his "defeated rival."

"I said it's nothing! I'm happier than ever!"

Impatient, Madara stepped forward twice, standing behind Hashirama, and looked down at the uncooperative boy with great annoyance.

"Hey! Don't keep at it—I told you to talk!"

"There really is nothing wrong!"

"Hey!"

Unable to stand Madara's pestering any longer, and feeling truly heartbroken, Hashirama turned to look at him. The sight of his tear-streaked, dejected face startled Madara into stepping back two paces. Madara looked angrily at the boy who had been putting on a brave front; he couldn't stand that expression. He clenched a fist as if ready to strike at any moment and roared at him.

"I told you, there really is nothing wrong!"

"Tell me right now!"

Hashirama turned back to the river and wiped his tears. The two fell into silence. After a while, the stillness began to stir ripples in Madara's own heart, which he had thought was resilient enough to endure anything. Just as he wanted to walk away, Hashirama's voice sounded again.

"The reason I came here is that looking at this river makes me feel like my troubles will flow away with it, never to bother me again. Hey! Your name is Madara, right? Don't you think so too?"

Madara didn't speak, silently listening to Hashirama's words while fixing his gaze on the flowing, yet strangely calm, river water.

After a long wait, Hashirama received no reply. He wasn't sure if he should continue the topic, but the grief in his heart made him view Madara as the only person he could confide in for the moment. He spoke again.

"Do you... have any brothers?"

The renewed silence made Hashirama feel as if there was no one behind him. Just as he was about to turn his head, a stone skipped across the river several times, though it failed to reach the other side and sank into the water.

"I have five brothers... well... I did."

Hashirama glanced sideways at Madara, looking a bit stunned. When Madara spoke of his brothers, his face became expressionless, as if it had nothing to do with him at all. This stung Hashirama slightly; he had always wanted to be able to do that, but no matter what, he could never manage his expressions perfectly.

"We are ninjas. We don't know when we'll die; perhaps we'll even die at each other's hands. That is the current world of ninjas. If there really is a way to stop this cruel world from existing, it would only be for those so-called enemies to open their hearts and be honest with one another, sharing a cup of brotherhood."

Madara showed no emotion through his sorrow, for he had buried all his pain deep within his heart, forever trampling it underfoot. He believed that as the eldest son of the Uchiha clan head, he should not shed tears. Only then could he set an example for the children of his clan and his two remaining brothers. No matter if the sky fell or the earth cracked, he would be the brother who shielded them from the wind and rain. He then spoke with a hint of persuasion for Hashirama to stop being sad, followed by a self-deprecating mention of his own ridiculous, childish ideas.

As soon as he finished, Madara saw Hashirama looking at him as if he were a saint. He laughed and spoke again.

"Heh! It seems I've wandered too far. But those things are impossible. Human hearts, after all, are always separated by thick walls!"

With that, Madara picked up a stone and threw it quickly. The stone skipped powerfully across the lake and landed on the opposite bank. Madara didn't laugh; it was as if this result was the most ordinary outcome. His mind then drifted to the Takigawa clan, who had turned on them and launched a sneak attack on his family.

"Perhaps the other person is also seething with anger. One moment they are smiling at you, and the next they are planning to slaughter your entire family. That is why we can never truly understand the so-called human heart!"

Hashirama watched Madara's expression turn fierce, then turned back to look at the river water. After a moment of silence, he realized he couldn't understand the meaning of the human heart either.

"Can the human heart... really never be seen?"

"Who knows! I've been dwelling on this question. If only there were a way to see through the human heart!" (Maybe my brother wouldn't have locked his heart away like this.)

Bending down to pick up another stone, Madara spoke as if confirming to Hashirama that his previous skip wasn't just a fluke. He threw the stone again, and after it skipped several times and landed on the far bank, Madara nodded with satisfaction and looked at the silent Hashirama, saying proudly.

"It seems I've finally found the right valve this time. Now, it's not just you—I've let it all out too!" "By the way, where is that boy? Why did you come alone this time? Could it be..." Hashirama looked back, as if searching for something. When he finished speaking, he suddenly remembered what Madara had said to him earlier, and the sorrow washed over him again.

"Don't pretend! My brother is alive and well. Stop cursing him with that look!"

For some reason, in that brief moment, Madara seemed to know exactly what expression Hashirama was about to make. He kicked him to the ground and roared at him. Even if Madara wanted to stop Hashirama's sorrowful expression, he could only do so for a moment before the boy was tearfully apologizing and explaining.

"I'm sorry! I just thought... I'm sorry... He said he was going to treat me to a meal!"

Hearing the explanation, Madara became even angrier. The other party wasn't concerned about whether his brother was alive at all; he was only concerned about the big meal that Mingye had promised him. He kicked the rising Hashirama back down and pointed at him, cursing with disdain.

"So that's what you were sad about! You just wanted to eat that meal! You idiot! Is eating really more important than whether my brother is alive or not?"

Hashirama wasn't offended by Madara's beating; his expression became incredibly simple and kind as he explained, "If you don't eat, you'll die! I think eating is more important than being alive!"

"You gluttonous ghost! Get lost, you idiot! You're bad luck!"

"Hahahaha...!"

As soon as Madara finished speaking, the two looked at each other and burst into laughter. Hashirama stood up and brushed the dust off his clothes. Madara looked at Hashirama's Bowl Cut and spoke again.

"There are some things that, even if I don't understand you, I can still see!"

Hashirama looked at Madara curiously and asked.

"What?"

"Whether it's your hairstyle or your clothes, they really are pathetic!"

Madara's words pierced Hashirama's body like a sword. Hashirama instantly became dejected. The expression and his reaction satisfied Madara, and his mood improved. It was never good to keep one's frustration bottled up; venting all one's troubles was the best way to let it out. Thinking this, Madara turned and walked back toward the forest.