The three of them sat on the cliff's edge, legs dangling over a dizzying drop, eyes fixed on the forest sprawling endlessly below. From this height, the trees seemed like a green ocean, stretching further than any eye could track. The wind carried the faint scent of pine and earth, a welcome reprieve from the constant grind of shinobi life.
"The view here… not bad," Hashirama murmured, a rare flicker of satisfaction in his voice as he scanned the horizon.
"Hmph," Madara said, chest puffed, smirking like he'd just won a sparring match. "Our clan's Sharingan lets us see farther than anyone. I can even spot the birds perched in the trees below."
Raizen—still called Douren in these casual moments—clapped a hand on Madara's shoulder with mock seriousness. "Madara, don't forget… you haven't even activated your Sharingan yet."
Hashirama immediately burst into laughter, rolling on the cliffside like a child with a secret joke. "Hahaha! Got you good!"
"Ugh! I don't need you reminding me of that!" Madara shot back, face red with indignation, glaring at Raizen.
Raizen just smiled, shrugging as he turned his gaze back to the sea of green below. Then, with a spark of reckless ambition, he stood and pointed toward the horizon.
"I've decided," he said, his voice carrying over the wind, "I'm going to build a village here. A place for all ninja."
Madara and Hashirama froze. Even in the shadow of Raizen's wild grin, the magnitude of that idea hung heavy in the air.
Raizen's eyes gleamed. "The people in this village—children, adults, everyone—they'll have their place. Kids can go to school, learn ninja skills safely. Adults can protect them. No one has to die before their time. Everyone has a role… a home."
"Build a village…" Hashirama repeated, standing as if the word alone made him weightless. His eyes sparkled with longing.
Raizen clenched his fists. Pride swelled quietly beneath his words. "Hashirama, Madara… are you with me?"
Hashirama didn't answer immediately, but the yearning in his gaze said more than words ever could.
Madara hesitated, brow furrowed, weighing the enormity of it. "We can't just build a village out of dreams. To survive, we'll have to grow stronger—then, maybe, we can protect it once it exists."
"That's the plan," Raizen said, feeling a surge of satisfaction. "Because once the village exists, it'll stir envy, greed… war. We'll need strength to survive. Nothing good comes free."
Madara's eyes darkened, imagining the battles ahead, but he nodded. "As long as you cling to your convictions, success is possible."
Hashirama, ever the optimist, simply smiled. "Don't worry. We can solve anything together."
Madara let out a bitter snort. "Naive as ever."
Hashirama smirked at him. "Remember the games we played? You always finished last, Madara. Trust me and Raizen here, and we'll keep moving forward faster. We've always led before."
Madara's face flushed crimson. "You think a game compares to this?!"
Raizen rolled his eyes internally. Classic Uchiha ego—always dramatic, never subtle.
Finally, Raizen held up a hand, silencing the squabble. "Enough. If we're building this village, we need a name. Any ideas?"
Hashirama tilted his head, thinking. "Ninja Village… seems straightforward enough."
Madara opened his mouth to argue, but the contempt in Raizen and Hashirama's eyes froze him mid-word. One look at them said everything: uncultured, reckless, but unstoppable.
And somehow… that made him want to be part of it anyway.