Winter, Year 13 of Konoha.
This winter was especially long, especially cold.
The cold wind lashed like a whip wrapped in shards of ice, striking the First Hokage's eternally gentle, smiling face on Hokage Rock-and the hearts of everyone in Konoha.
The heavy, suffocating pall that had lingered since the Five Kage Summit reached its peak as the year drew to a close.
Because everyone knew that the great pillar holding up Konoha, seemingly holding up the very sky, was finally about to... give way.
Deep within the Senju Clan Compound, in that quiet room steeped in the smell of medicine and death, the final moment came quietly and swiftly.
There were no earth-shaking last words, no radiant ceremony to pass on his legacy.
Hashirama Senju lay beneath thick bedding, wasted to little more than bones. His face was an almost translucent, ashen gray; only the faintest rise and fall of his chest proved that the flame of life had not yet gone out completely.
Mito Uzumaki held his withered, skeletal hand. Her long red hair had lost its former vivid luster. There were no tears on her face, only a heavy calm, as though she were sinking with her husband into boundless darkness.
Tsunade, a little over four years old, was held tightly in a maid's arms. Seeming to sense something, she squirmed uneasily and sobbed softly.
Tobirama Senju stood beside the bed, his back ramrod straight. His face seemed covered by a mask carved from ice and snow, revealing no emotion at all. Only his eyes behind his lenses remained fixed on his elder brother's final breaths.
Outside the window, beneath a gloomy sky, fine flecks of snow drifted here and there.
Hashirama's eyelids trembled. With agonizing slowness, he opened them a crack. Those eyes, once filled with