Hashirama sat across from Fugaku, his face already flushed from drinking.
He had "borrowed" that jug of sake from a little shop in the Uchiha Clan Compound.
By borrowed, he meant he had told the owner to "put it on my tab," and the owner hadn't dared refuse.
The jug was more than half empty, and he had thoroughly loosened his tongue.
"Fugaku, you have no idea how hard it was when Madara and I founded the village."
Hashirama slapped his thigh, his eyes bright.
"We were surrounded by enemies. One would attack today, another tomorrow. Madara and I took turns fighting, and the battles raged on without end."
Fugaku nodded, looking as solemn as though he were listening to a lecture from the Hokage.
"Yes. Thank you for all your hard work, Lord First."
"Hard work? That doesn't even begin to cover it!"
Hashirama drained his cup, poured himself another, and boasted.
"Back then, Madara and I fought three battles a day. One in the morning, one at noon, and then overtime in the evening. After fighting, we had to discuss building the village. After those discussions, we had to negotiate with all the clans. Once negotiations were over, we had to haul bricks and build houses ourselves."
Fugaku kept nodding.
"You truly had it rough, Lord First."
"Rough? That doesn't even begin to cover it!"
The more Hashirama talked, the more animated he became.
"Madara and I slept on grass, ate tree bark, and drank muddy water. Once, enemies chased us for three days and nights. We hid in a cave, and we were starving. Madara said he'd go find food. I told him I'd go, but he said my leg was injured and I should stay put. Then he went out."
"He came back hours later, carrying