Madara Uchiha's Reflections
Madara Uchiha ultimately did not return to the Hokage Building.
The moment he stepped out of the main gate, he put aside all official business and walked steadily Earth Flow the Naka River.
The Hashirama behind him called his name twice, but he didn't turn around. He simply raised his hand and waved it lightly as a perfunctory response.
Hashirama stood there, scratching the back of his head with a helpless expression, muttering under his breath, "This is bad."
He knew Ban's nature all too well. Whenever this person started to fall silent and become withdrawn, it was mostly because he had something heavy weighing on his mind and was about to make a momentous decision.
With no other option, he turned back and planned to consult with Tobirama a solution.
Dusk settled over the entire riverbank, the afterglow of the setting sun shattered in the murmuring water, swirling with countless tiny, dazzling golden glimmers.
Ban chose a large rock that had been warmed by the sun all day and sat down, his posture relaxed but exuding a deep melancholy.
He bent one leg, letting the other dangle casually over the edge of the stone, his gaze fixed on the withered leaves swirling on the river's surface.
The yellow leaves drifted along with the water, helplessly following their fate, much like the inextricable destiny of the Ninja World.
He reached into his robes and pulled out a small Kunai, an old relic left behind by Izuna Uchiha.
Years of use have worn the blade down to the thinness of a cicada's wing, yet the Uchiha Gunbai pattern engraved on the handle remains clear, sharp, and undamaged.
Flying Thunder God Slash, Tobirama Senju.
He remembered this deep-seated hatred for half his life, and he would never easily erase it for the rest of his life.
But he still signed the alliance agreement.
He never forgave Tobirama, nor did he let go of the hatred for killing his brother.
Back then, Hashirama knelt before him, his words earnest, pleading only for an end to the war so that future generations of children would no longer have to rush to the battlefield and fight bloody battles.
He never believed in the Senju Clan, nor in this flimsy alliance; from beginning to end, he only believed in Hashirama himself.
On the tranquil riverbank, a steady series of footsteps approached from afar, crunching softly over the fine sand and pebbles.
Ban didn't need to turn around; he already knew who it was.
In the entire Hidden Hashirama, only Konoha is always so unguarded, walking with such an open and unbridled spirit, carrying with him an air of unbridled recklessness.
I knew you'd be here.
Hashirama Senju plopped down next to him, carrying two simply packaged bottles of sake, which he seemed to have picked up from some shop.
He laughed casually and freely, his tone light and relaxed. "Tobirama specifically asked me to come and check on you, saying you weren't feeling well today."
I don't even need him to remind me. Whenever you're preoccupied or deep in thought, you always find yourself hiding in the Naka River to daydream. And here you are, I can find you every single time."
Ban didn't reply, but gently closed his fingers, carefully putting away the Kunai that carried his obsession and hatred.
Hashirama didn't urge him to speak. He simply unscrewed a bottle of sake, tilted his head back, and took a big gulp. Then he let out a long sigh, letting the evening breeze dispel the smell of alcohol from his throat.
The two sat side by side, letting the evening breeze caress the river's surface, scattering ripples that fell upon them. A long silence enveloped the riverbank, yet there was no awkwardness between them.
After a long silence, Ban finally spoke, his voice low and calm, revealing little emotion, yet carrying immense weight.
"Hashirama. Today, that boy named Natsu said that in another timeline, the Uchiha was wiped out."
Hashirama's hand holding the sake bottle suddenly paused, and the smile on his face vanished instantly.
He sat quietly, his mind instantly calming down, knowing that every word he was about to say carried immense weight.
"The one who personally wiped out the entire clan was Uchiha Fugaku's biological son. He was brainwashed layer by layer by the Hokage and Elder of Konoha, and ultimately slaughtered his entire clan with his own hands."
Ban's tone was flat and indifferent, as if he were recounting a past that had nothing to do with him, yet the suppressed chill between the lines could not be concealed.
"That Hokage was the successor you personally chose. That Elder was a disciple whom Tobirama carefully taught."
"In other words, in that world, the ideals you pursued your whole life were completely dashed. Not just dashed, but utterly defeated."
This time, Hashirama remained silent for a long time.
He didn't rush to explain or offer any comfort; his fingers gripped the bottle tightly, his knuckles turning slightly white from the tension.
The last rays of the setting sun fell on his face, stripping away his usual carefree and cheerful demeanor, leaving only an unspeakable heaviness.
After a long pause, he slowly spoke, his voice still the familiar, cheerful tone, but with several times more solemnity. "I know in my heart. When that young man recounted his past, I was thinking, if the descendant I personally chose ultimately drives the Uchiha to the brink of extermination, wouldn't the ideal I pursued throughout my life become the biggest Uchiha?"
Upon hearing the sound, Ban finally turned his head to look at him, his brows furrowing slightly, his eyes filled with confusion and bewilderment.
Hashirama didn't look back at him, but instead stared down at the tiny bubbles swaying in the bottle, as if trying to find a glimmer of answer or a bit of comfort in these fleeting bubbles.
"However, Madara, I don't think that my other self was a complete failure."
Hashirama slowly raised his eyes, meeting Madara's gaze directly. His eyes were clear and firm, as steady as the Senju Clan's thousand-year-old foundation rooted in the earth. "If everything were truly over, without any room for maneuver, then Natsu would never have appeared here."
He should have perished on the Night of the Uchiha Massacre; the Uchiha bloodline, his obsessions, and his past should have been completely erased, leaving not a trace.