Bang! Bang! Bang!
What's so great about that damned Uchiha Madara anyway?
Big Brother, how can you still be thinking about Uchiha Madara at a time like this?
Tobirama Senju silently cursed his brother, though he restrained himself in front of Emiya Shihara, the outsider present in the room. Even now, he still wanted to preserve a shred of dignity for his elder brother.
"Big Brother."
Tobirama reached out and pressed a firm hand on his brother's shoulder, trying to pull him back from the lingering panic of his nightmare.
"Calm down… just a little."
"Who's there?!"
Hashirama Senju jerked his head upward on reflex.
"Oh… it's just you, Tobirama…"
As he recognized his brother, the panic faded from Hashirama's face, replaced by a deep, lingering dread. He had just remembered the dream—or perhaps, the memory—that tormented him.
"Tobirama…"
He stared at his hands as though he couldn't believe they belonged to him—hands that, in that dream, were soaked in the blood of an old friend.
"I dreamed… that I killed Madara."
"Big Brother!"
Tobirama's expression changed in an instant.
"No…"
"That wasn't a dream."
Hashirama's body seemed to collapse under an invisible weight. His hands dropped limply to his sides, and an unbearable pain surfaced in his expression.
"Tobirama."
"I think I really did it…"
His voice trembled as he slowly lifted one hand to his forehead, hot tears sliding down his cheeks.
"I killed Madara… for real."
"…."
Tobirama fell silent.
As much as he agreed with his brother's decision to eliminate Uchiha Madara, he knew full well how deeply it would wound him.
He had witnessed firsthand the bond forged between his brother and that dangerous man, a friendship born amidst the bitter hatred of their clans. It was a connection Hashirama had once vowed to protect with his life. And now…
That bond had been severed.
And the one who cut it—was none other than Hashirama himself, by taking Madara's life with his own hands. That thread of friendship, woven through years of shared struggle since the Warring States era, had been finally and irrevocably torn apart.
"Big Brother," Tobirama said as he placed a steadying hand on his brother's shoulder, speaking in a low, firm voice. "Don't forget—Madara tried to use the Nine-Tails to destroy the village. You chose to kill him to protect what we built together."
"To protect the village…"
Hashirama's gaze went blank.
That was the thought that drove him…
The belief that led him to make that final, irreversible decision—to kill his dearest friend.
The Hidden Leaf was born from the unity between him and Madara. Even its name—Konoha—was chosen by Madara himself.
And yet…
In that battle…
Madara had never intended to kill him.
He had fought with the same recklessness as always, expecting the fight to end like a quarrel between children—believing that once it was over, Hashirama would cave in, surrender to his vision, and help him destroy what they had created.
But Hashirama knew the truth.
His devotion to the village had surpassed his loyalty to Madara. In his heart, he had already resolved: to protect Konoha, he would do whatever it took—even kill the people closest to him.
That determination had guided his hand… and ended Madara's life.
And that knowledge made it all the more unbearable.
To protect the dream they built together, he had sacrificed the friend he built it with.
What an agony… an unendurable weight upon the soul.
Hashirama clutched weakly at the blanket, sitting dazed on the hospital bed, tears continuing to fall as memories of his time with Madara played in his mind.
"Let him rest for now."
Emiya Shihara stood up and spoke calmly.
"He's in no state to think clearly. It's best to leave him alone for a while."
"And one more thing…"
"Make sure he doesn't use chakra to accelerate his recovery. For now, forcing cell regeneration would do more harm than good."
"…Understood."
Tobirama helped his brother lie back down.
"…."
Hashirama slowly sank into the bed again, barely noticing Emiya Shihara beside him. Tears still trickled from the corners of his eyes.
"Big Brother."
"Try to get some rest."
Tobirama gently pulled the blanket over him, repeating his earlier advice. "Don't use chakra. Suppress your body's natural healing."
"…Wait."
Hashirama suddenly reached out, grabbing Tobirama's arm.
"Tobirama. Did you… did you bring Madara's body back to the village?"
"…His remains have been properly buried."
Tobirama's eyes flickered for a brief second.
A lie.
He had hidden Madara's corpse in the mountains long before anyone could find it.
Madara had been the strongest of the Uchiha—possessing the clan's most advanced form of the Sharingan: the Mangekyō. His body held immense research value. Tobirama wanted to dissect it and find a way to resolve the dangers posed by the Uchiha bloodline. Naturally, he wouldn't let the opportunity go to waste.
Besides…
Tobirama had despised Madara from the beginning. He felt no qualms about desecrating the body of a man he had always loathed.
Of course, none of this could be revealed to his brother.
Unfortunately for Tobirama… one person did notice.
Emiya Shihara had been quietly observing the brothers' exchange, and he didn't miss the subtle shift in Tobirama's gaze. That flicker of deceit sparked a memory from his past life.
As a man who had traveled from another world, Emiya Shihara recalled this exact moment in Konoha's history—and what Tobirama's concealment of Madara's body would ultimately lead to.
A faint smile curled on his lips.
If he was right… he might just know where his old ally from a thousand years ago was hiding.
"My piece on the board… no, my ally…"
"The pieces held by my ally are also my own…"
"I only hope that my dear ally—Mr. Black Zetsu—can forgive my betrayal all those years ago…"
"In this era… I truly have seen the light."
Deep within the mountains near the Hidden Leaf…
Inside a secret chamber hidden within the rocky heart of the wilderness, a shadow emerged from the earth.
A dark, inky creature with a strange, twisted form—it was none other than the "ally" that Emiya Shihara had referred to: Black Zetsu.
Its existence was a paradox—an entity created through ancient forces, capable of surviving for over a thousand years.
Black Zetsu stood before a tightly sealed coffin, staring in stunned silence.
"Madara… is dead?"
What was happening?
How could this have happened?
Madara was supposed to be his perfect vessel—the most ideal pawn he had found in a thousand years.
The last time he had found someone with such potential… it had been over a millennium ago: Emiya Shihara himself. His genius, his ambition, had even surpassed Indra in some ways.
But in the end… that pawn had been too idealistic.
He had believed the words of Asura—that through the ideals of Ninshū and the practice of medical ninjutsu, the world could be remade into a peaceful paradise.
Foolishness.
He had believed that chakra was a gift meant to bring happiness.
Humans, by nature, would always fight over resources. Power would always become a weapon. To believe otherwise was sheer naïveté.
Such a waste…
Shihara's intellect had been unparalleled.
Why did he have to be such a good person?
And yet… perhaps that was what made him so easy to manipulate.
Black Zetsu still remembered how he had used his own body as a test subject in the Swamp of the Summoning Slugs. With their help, he had conducted experiments that allowed him to absorb part of the power of the Divine Tree and the Sage of Six Paths.
They had come so close…
They almost succeeded in toppling everything the Sage had built.
What a shame…
He had been so obsessed with his noble dream that he believed Asura's vision of peace. In the end, he had entrusted that dream to Asura himself…
Tch.
If he were alive today, surely he would regret ever believing that fool.
How disappointing…
That man—the peerless medical genius, the tender-hearted fool—had been Black Zetsu's favorite piece of all time.
Compared to him, Uchiha Madara was arrogant and short-sighted.
Black Zetsu had barely seen the dawn of his plan before Madara threw it all away.
"Madara is dead…"
"Do I really have to wait another era?"
"No… maybe I should at least take the eyes. Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan—that alone is still useful…"
Just as he was lost in bitter thought, the coffin suddenly stirred.
Startled, Black Zetsu sank back into the earth.
His body slipped into the ground as effortlessly as a fish into water—one of his many unnatural gifts.
But he didn't leave.
Instead, he lingered in the shadows of the secret chamber, carefully watching the sealed coffin with wary eyes.