Senju Hashirama – Hard to Say!
The thought came to Uchiha Madara suddenly—so bold, so overwhelming—that even he was startled by it.
Unify the entire Ninja World.
It was a notion that had slumbered in history for a thousand years. The last to achieve such a feat had been none other than the legendary Ōtsutsuki Kaguya. With transcendent power, she bent all nations and shinobi clans beneath her rule, shaping the world with her hands alone. Yet her reign was fleeting. Betrayed by her own sons, Ōtsutsuki Hamura and Hagoromo, her order collapsed before it could take root.
Hagoromo—the Sage of Six Paths—chose not to rebuild what she had created. He became a monk, wandering the land to preach peace, guiding humans with wisdom rather than dominion. From that point onward, the Ninja World fractured. Clans rose and fell, nations formed and dissolved, and centuries of bloodshed followed.
Dozens of countries, great and small. Countless ninja clans, each jealously guarding its strength. Hatred passed from generation to generation.
The dream of unification had faded from memory, dismissed as impossible.
Yet in the mind of Uchiha Madara, that ancient idea flickered back to life.
---
Madara sat at the council table, surrounded by clan leaders and elders of Konoha. His crimson eyes glowed faintly, and though he remained silent for now, his mind burned with possibilities. If Hashirama stood with him, if they united their powers once more, they could bring this fragmented world to its knees. The cost would be high—many would die—but in the long span of history, would that not be a price worth paying?
Compared to this squabble with the Akatsuki and Kumogakure, compared to these trivial disputes… this is the true problem we must solve, Madara thought.
He raised his head. All eyes were on him, waiting for his words.
---
Senju Tobirama's instincts screamed danger. His sharp gaze cut toward Madara, every nerve on edge. That man, born from the Uchiha clan's cursed bloodline, was scheming again—Tobirama could feel it in his bones.
"Regarding the current crisis," Tobirama said loudly, before Madara could open his mouth, "this meeting was called because of Uchiha Makoto's reckless behavior in the Akatsuki village. His actions may escalate into war. That is the matter at hand. Nothing else. Uchiha Madara, do not stray into irrelevant fantasies."
The air in the chamber grew taut.
Madara's lip curled. "Hmph. Fantasies, you say? You're nothing but a petty bureaucrat, Tobirama. Konoha's destiny is not yours to decide."
"You—!" Tobirama's hands clenched into fists.
Before the argument could explode further, Hashirama raised his hands. "Wait. Wait! Everyone has the right to speak here. Tobirama, let him finish. Madara, say what you wish."
Hashirama's voice was calm, soothing, yet it tilted subtly toward Madara. His brother saw it. Everyone in the chamber saw it.
Tobirama's face flushed with anger. Always the same! He never listens to me, never sees the burden I carry. I sit buried in paperwork while he disappears into the forest. And at moments like this, when I need his support—he sides with Madara.
The dam burst. "Fine then, Big Brother! Stir up chaos! Let Uchiha Makoto's scheme succeed, drag Konoha into the mud, and let us all drown in war together! Since you won't listen to reason, I'll throw my life in with yours!"
Gasps spread through the chamber. The clan leaders—Hyuga, Sarutobi, Shimura—sat in frozen silence, wide-eyed at Tobirama's fury. They had expected a meeting about war preparations, not a family feud between the two Senju brothers. Yet this spectacle revealed everything: Hashirama still leaned toward Uchiha Madara.
Lord Tobirama, how pitiful… some thought. He bore Konoha's weight on his shoulders every day, and yet, in this moment, even his brother turned against him.
No one spoke. No one dared.
The Hyuga patriarch folded his hands calmly. To him, it mattered little who wore the Hokage's robes. As long as the Hyuga clan retained its place as Konoha's third power, they would endure. They would adapt, as they always had.
---
Hashirama sighed heavily, his brow furrowed. "Tobirama, don't be so angry. I only wish to keep peace in this room. Remember: 'A family with a remonstrating son will not fall; a country with remonstrating ministers will not perish.' Your voice has value, but so does Madara's. If we silence him, how can we call ourselves just?"
"Oh?" Tobirama's eyes narrowed dangerously. "So if we don't let Madara speak, Konoha will fall?"
Hashirama hesitated for only a second. "Hard to say."
The words struck Tobirama like a blade. He sank back into his chair, trembling with fury, feeling utterly betrayed.
"Very well," he muttered. "Let him speak. But mark my words, Big Brother—you will regret this."
---
Madara rose from his seat. His cloak swayed as he walked to the front, every step echoing against the wooden floor. The chamber held its breath. His dark hair framed a face carved in stone, his eyes blazing with purpose.
When he spoke, his voice rolled like thunder.
"The conflict with the Akatsuki and Kumogakure is nothing more than a symptom. A minor ailment. The true disease runs deeper. From the Warring States era until today, shinobi have fought over missions, over territory, over pride. The founding of villages has not cured this disease—it has only delayed the inevitable. Already, after only two years, villages clash over missions. Already, war looms again."
He swept his gaze across the leaders, and even the most stoic among them stiffened under the weight of his conviction.
"Konoha exists because Hashirama and I sought peace. Yet look around you—does this look like peace? No! The hatred of a thousand years cannot be erased by mere treaties. As long as there are rival villages, war will come again. Not in decades, but soon."
The chamber was silent. His words rang too true to dismiss.
Hashirama leaned forward. "Madara, you've diagnosed the problem well. But have you found a solution?"
Madara's lips curved into a fierce smile. "I have. To solve the problem once and for all, there is only one path. We must unify the Ninja World."
The words struck like a hammer.
Clan leaders froze. Some stared in disbelief, others in fear. Unify the world? The very idea was madness. For a thousand years, no shinobi had dared even dream it. And yet here was Madara, declaring it as if it were simple truth.
"Unify… the Ninja World?" one elder whispered, his voice trembling.
"Yes." Madara's gaze burned brighter. "The conflict with Kumogakure is an opportunity. If we ally with the Akatsuki, we can crush Kumogakure. Then we turn to the other great villages. One by one, we break them. Those who surrender will live under Konoha's protection. Those who resist will fall. In just a few years, the entire shinobi world will kneel before us. And then—true peace will begin."
---
The silence was deafening.
The clan leaders exchanged glances, their faces pale. In their hearts, unease warred with awe. Such ambition was terrifying, yet part of them trembled at its possibility.
Unify the world… could it truly be done?
Tobirama's nails dug into the wooden table. His chest rose and fell with fury. Insane. Absolutely insane. He speaks of conquest as if it were nothing but a mission to complete. Does he not see the rivers of blood this would spill? The countless innocents who would die?
His mind raced. Beyond the villages lay the Daimyo—the feudal lords who commanded the nations. Would Madara march on them too? Would he topple the very order of the world? The thought made Tobirama's skin crawl. Such a thing was treason, blasphemy against centuries of structure.
"No brains," Tobirama hissed under his breath. "He hasn't thought this through. He hasn't considered the cost, the politics, the Daimyo. He wants to remake the world with fire and blood!"
Yet Hashirama… Hashirama's face was troubled, but not entirely dismissive. He was listening.
Big Brother, Tobirama thought bitterly, you fool. You always see only Madara's strength, never his madness. And now look where it's led. You've unleashed him upon us all.
---
The chamber waited. Would Hashirama support him? Would he stand against him?
And outside, unseen, the very future of the Ninja World trembled on the edge of Madara's words.
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