"Madara, that's enough! I will never agree to such madness!"
Hashirama slammed his palm onto the wooden table, the echo shaking the meeting room. His usually calm face was filled with frustration and disbelief. The thought of starting an all-out war before any real threat had even appeared—it went against everything he stood for.
"Why must we unilaterally begin a war, and a continuous one at that, just because of something that hasn't even happened yet? Have you forgotten why we founded Konoha in the first place? We did this so that children wouldn't have to step onto the battlefield anymore! We did this for peace, for a home where people could live without fear. Haven't we already achieved that?"
Hashirama's voice carried both anger and sorrow. He truly couldn't comprehend Madara's reasoning. Why destroy the peace they had worked so hard to create?
Across the table, Uchiha Madara's expression remained cold and unreadable, his crimson Sharingan faintly glinting. When he finally spoke, his tone was sharp enough to cut through steel.
"Hashirama, you are too naive."
He stood slowly, the faint pressure from his chakra causing the air in the room to tremble.
"You think being honest and open with each other will work? You think these other villages will do the same? That's not how the world works. Instead of waiting for Konoha to be drawn into a war later, it's better for us to start it now—while we still hold the advantage. We'll finish every conflict before it even begins."
His words were filled with conviction, but behind that conviction was a growing darkness—an unshakable belief that peace could only be maintained through control and power.
Hashirama clenched his fists. "Nonsense! Why can't it work? Haven't you learned from our own clans? The Senju and Uchiha fought for generations—centuries of bloodshed! And yet, we understood each other, we learned to trust, and finally, we built this village together!"
He pointed toward the window, where the village spread below them like a living dream.
"We achieved peace, Madara! Real peace! Are you telling me we should destroy everything we built just because of fear?"
Madara's jaw tightened. The very sight of Hashirama's optimism stirred something fierce inside him. They had taken different paths, and those paths were now diverging further than ever.
Hashirama believed that understanding and empathy could solve anything. Madara believed that peace built without power was fragile and doomed to collapse.
The two once inseparable friends—now stood on opposite ends of an unbridgeable divide.
Their argument grew more and more heated. What started as a clash of philosophies turned into a battle of wills, and soon, pure emotion took over. Voices rose, and their chakra surged uncontrollably, filling the room with an overwhelming pressure.
"Hashirama! You're too soft, too blind! You can't see the danger coming!"
"Madara! You're too stubborn, too lost in your paranoia!"
The floorboards creaked under the weight of their chakra. Dust fell from the ceiling. Even though neither had made a move, the oppressive energy was enough to make everyone else in the room break into a cold sweat.
Around them sat the leaders of Konoha's various ninja clans—Nara, Akimichi, Yamanaka, Sarutobi—each frozen in their seats, their faces pale.
The two legendary founders of Konoha were arguing—and the very air felt like it could explode.
The clan leaders didn't dare speak, but the thoughts in their minds were all the same:
So this… this is the true power of the First Hokage and Uchiha Madara? Just their presence alone feels like death itself!
The pressure wasn't even directed at them, yet it felt like a giant's hand was pressing down on their shoulders. No one dared breathe too loudly.
"Please! Don't fight!" one of the clan leaders shouted suddenly, breaking the suffocating silence. "We absolutely cannot turn on each other! We're supposed to be allies!"
"Yes! Lord Madara, Lord Hashirama, please calm down!" another chimed in desperately. "Everyone is doing this for Konoha's future. We can talk this through!"
Their words stumbled out like a prayer.
In the corner, Senju Tobirama stood with his arms crossed, watching the two legends with an unreadable expression. His sharp eyes flickered with both worry and a hint of dark satisfaction.
Go on, keep fighting, he thought coldly. Let this friendship crumble once and for all.
The younger Senju brother had long harbored distrust toward the Uchiha. Madara's growing influence unsettled him. In his eyes, Uchiha were unstable—driven by emotion, by hatred, by obsession. So if this quarrel finally tore Madara and Hashirama apart… Tobirama could only see it as justice.
When the tension reached its peak, Tobirama suddenly broke the silence with his signature sharp tongue.
"Garlic bird, garlic bird, it's not easy for anyone," he muttered sarcastically under his breath. Then, with feigned sincerity, he said aloud, "Lord Madara, my brother—please, both of you—this isn't worth destroying your friendship over. Everything you're doing is for Konoha's sake, isn't it?"
His words dripped with irony, but most of the other clan leaders didn't notice. They echoed him quickly, trying to calm the situation.
"Yes, yes! Lord Madara, Lord Hashirama—please, for Konoha's sake!"
Madara's Sharingan flickered. His gaze swept over Tobirama, sharp and cold like a blade. For a brief moment, their eyes met—and the room felt like it froze solid.
Then, without a word, Madara turned away.
"Hashirama," he said lowly, his tone heavy with disappointment. "You'll understand one day… but by then, it'll be too late."
With that, he turned and strode out of the chamber, his cloak billowing behind him. The air he left behind felt like a void.
"Madara! Wait!" Hashirama called after him, his heart heavy with panic. He knew that tone. He knew that look in Madara's eyes. Something had changed—something deep and irreversible.
He rushed after him, hoping, praying that he could still bring his friend back from the edge.
The meeting was left in chaos.
The clan leaders exchanged uneasy glances, whispering among themselves. It wasn't just a quarrel—it was the beginning of a fracture within Konoha's foundation itself.
When Hashirama and Madara were gone, the only one who stood up to restore order was Tobirama.
"Enough," he said curtly. "The meeting will continue."
His voice carried the cold authority of command. The others fell silent instantly.
"We will not speak of what just happened. The official record will state that the meeting concluded as planned. No one—no one—is to spread rumors about the disagreement between Lord Hashirama and Lord Madara. Do I make myself clear?"
The clan leaders nodded quickly.
Tobirama adjusted his robes and turned away, his eyes glinting. As much as he loved his brother, he had no faith in Madara's dream. In his mind, the villains threatening Konoha's peace were already clear.
That inherently evil Uchiha Madara… and that dangerous Uchiha Makoto from the Akatsuki Village.
They were two of a kind—geniuses with the power and ambition to shake the world. If men like them were allowed to lead, Tobirama was certain that Konoha's great ship would one day capsize.
As he ended the meeting and dismissed the clans, Tobirama made sure every detail was clean, every statement diplomatic. No open hostility. No reckless words. The last thing Konoha needed was to be accused of betraying an ally.
Still, in his heart, Tobirama had already drawn his line.
To him, Uchiha Madara was no longer an ally—he was a threat.
---
Meanwhile, far away in the Akatsuki Ninja Village, Uchiha Makoto sat in the Lord of Light's office, calmly reading the freshly issued announcement from Konoha. The paper crackled softly between his fingers as he scanned the words.
Konoha's message was deliberately neutral, filled with careful diplomacy:
> "Konoha hopes that the Akatsuki Ninja Village can demonstrate restraint, maintain peace, and present reasonable negotiation terms. We wish to continue dialogue and prevent unnecessary escalation."
At the same time, it promised to send envoys to the Akatsuki Village for further discussion.
Makoto's lips curled into a faint smile. "Just as I thought."
There was no disappointment in his eyes. He had predicted this exact response. Konoha, forever cautious, would never publicly take sides—not when peace could still be maintained with polite language and false promises.
Even now, reports from his network in Konoha confirmed that the major clans had been ordered to remain silent about the growing tension between Konoha, Akatsuki, and the Hidden Cloud Village. Ordinary villagers, too, had been warned not to discuss it.
Konoha was closing ranks—preparing for diplomacy, not war.
Makoto chuckled softly. "As expected. They'll probably send someone to persuade me to compromise—to let go of the harsh terms we demanded from the Hidden Cloud."
He set the document down and leaned back in his chair, his crimson eyes gleaming faintly under the office light.
"To them, everyone's a respectable person. If both sides take a step back, the problem disappears. How convenient."
He stood, looking out the tall window at the darkening horizon. The sky over Akatsuki Village glowed a deep crimson, the color of approaching war.
"The announcement doesn't directly oppose us," he murmured, "which is fine. It's diplomatic enough. As long as Konoha doesn't openly turn hostile, the Hidden Cloud will think they're playing good cop, bad cop."
A faint, confident smile formed on his lips. "But it doesn't matter whether Konoha joins the fight. Against the Hidden Cloud, the Akatsuki Ninja Village is enough."
He turned away from the window and reached for his cloak.
"Abandon illusions," he whispered. "Prepare for battle."
With that, Uchiha Makoto's chakra flared faintly—a dark, powerful pulse that resonated through the office like a warning to the entire world.
The storm was coming.
And this time, no one—not even Senju Hashirama or Uchiha Madara—could stop it.
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