The sky was covered in thick, dark clouds, and the scent of damp earth filled the air, a prelude to the intimate meeting of rain and soil.
The distant mountains faded in and out of the rainy mist like pale washes of ink in a painting, adding a hazy beauty to this natural landscape.
Raindrops began tapping gently on the leaves, making a rustling sound, as though warming up for the downpour to come.
This was one of the most fertile places in the Shinobi World.
Madara Uchiha had taken off the Gunbai that had not left his side for years and sat quietly on the wooden tatami, watching rain stream from the eaves like strings of pearls and soak the soil in the courtyard.
Beside him sat a steaming cup of tea.
"It's raining! Time to go home and bring in the laundry!"
Outside the courtyard, several joyful shouts echoed through this civilian settlement.
If Madara had possessed the Byakugan, he would have seen civilians emerging one after another from the broad fields of crops, their faces wreathed in smiles.
But even without seeing them, those few lively shouts let Madara clearly feel the joy and hope in the hearts of these civilians, whom ninja and nobles had once regarded as "insects."
Madara had remained in this civilian settlement for some time, while Hashirama spent his days and nights among its people, farming for them and repairing their homes.
He merely watched from the sidelines, yet even watching stirred an inexplicable thrill in his heart.
For no other reason than that it was exactly like those days when he and Hashirama had looked down from the mountain behind them at the still-unformed Konoha and talked freely of their ideals.
This was his ideal, the shared ideal of the Warring