Outside the office in the Hokage Building, Madara Uchiha, who had been sitting on the eaves all along, also heard Hashirama Senju's bleak self-mockery firsthand.
The sudden confession landed like a boulder in the lake of Madara's heart, stirring countless ripples. His cold, previously expressionless face now revealed an extraordinarily complicated look.
Elation, triumph, a stirring of tenderness, and heartache-countless indescribable emotions surged through Madara. Those strange, indistinct feelings mingled in great swaths, bleeding into one another like a chaotic, frenzied painting.
He knew Hashirama well. For all that the man seemed easygoing and softhearted, he had the strongest mind of anyone. Once Hashirama reached a decision after careful consideration, outside influences could never easily shake him.
Madara knew perfectly well that, aside from Hashirama himself, perhaps no one in this world could truly change his mind.
So, upon hearing Hashirama's confession, Madara nearly burst into wild laughter. His stern expression almost cracked, and the corners of his mouth rose uncontrollably into a broad curve.
Madara gave a faint snort. Though he did not actually laugh aloud, mocking laughter churned and echoed within his chest, merciless in its ridicule and scorn. And that laughter mocked not only Hashirama, but himself as well.
Ever since their youth, Hashirama had been like a challenge heaven had designed specifically for him, always getting the better of him, leaving him both helpless and full of fighting spirit.
From the stone-skipping contest when they first met, Madara had realized that Hashirama always seemed a step ahead. Through their later clashes on the battlefield and even after the village's founding, they each had their share of victories and defeats, but Hashirama always beat him when it mattered most.
Madara was immensely proud and conceited. Though it infuriated him, he could accept defeat in battle without complaint.