We are getting old after all.
Madara glanced at the newspaper, then expressionlessly closed it and shut his eyes.
Once upon a time...
He believed Hashirama's ideals were wrong. As long as shinobi existed in the world, true peace could never be achieved. Unless the two of them, with their overwhelming power, unified the entire shinobi world and stripped shinobi of their authority, only then could peace truly come to the world.
Only then could Hashirama's dream from back then—where children wouldn't have to sacrifice themselves, and everyone could sit together eating barbecue—be realized.
But...
That fool Hashirama stubbornly believed that as long as everyone showed a little love, mutual understanding and communication would bring peace.
What a laughable idea...
Sure enough, the year Hashirama died, war broke out again.
Even more people died than in the previous clan-based battles.
And in his own clan's territory, he used the Mangekyō Sharingan to see the hidden part of the Uchiha Stone Tablet.
A thousand years ago...
A peaceful, ideal world without chakra, without shinobi.
So he firmly believed that shinobi were the root cause of war. Uchiha Madara would prove that his beliefs were right. He...
Would destroy it all.
But now...
It was all an illusion.
Having dominated the shinobi world for so many years, how could he not recognize genjutsu?
Back then, he had been lost because he wanted to show Hashirama that his methods were wrong but couldn't find a target.
"Who exactly is scheming against me?" Madara's eyes remained closed, but the aura of a shinobi legend erupted from him. "Is it Zetsu..."
Or someone else?
Over these past few years of calm, he had gradually realized that Zetsu seemed desperate to push him into instigating war in the shinobi world, constantly urging him to capture the tailed beasts. It was as if...
His very thoughts were being controlled.
Fortunately, in Uzushiogakure, he came to understand that the Infinite Tsukuyomi was ultimately just a dream, an illusion.
Like now—he enjoyed smacking the little Uchiha brat's butt, yelling at the Senju clan for being idiots, and this feeling of growing old, slowly losing mobility, needing a distant clan girl to push his wheelchair.
Perhaps this was the feeling of reality.
No wonder Hashirama loved wandering around the village back in Konoha, watching the children smile and hearing them greet him.
This feeling could bring peace to the heart, making one slowly understand the meaning of living.
But...
"Hashirama..." Madara's lips curled slightly as he murmured with closed eyes, "You're still an idiot."
So in the end, your methods were still flawed. Only the red-haired brat's ideas showed me the world I truly desired in my heart.
But...
In the end, we will become relics of the past.
Unconsciously...
A single tear formed at the corner of Madara's eye, slowly...
Rolling down.
"..."
Uchiha Mikoto stared in shock at Grandpa Madara, who had closed his eyes. He... he... Grandpa Madara actually cried?
Was there something or someone in the newspaper that affected Grandpa Madara?
And...
Hashirama??
Did she mishear?
Wasn't that the name of the First Hokage?
And the newspaper...
Mikoto suddenly remembered something, her eyes widening in disbelief as she looked at Grandpa Madara. Could it be...
Back then, Grandpa Madara competed with the First Hokage for Lady Mito's affection, lost, got beaten up by the First, and left Konoha alone.
Now, seeing the news of Lady Mito's passing, he was reminiscing about the past and...
Feeling heartbroken?
Mikoto felt like she had stumbled upon something incredible. No wonder Grandpa Madara treated Mokushukuma and the others that way. It seemed the First Hokage had left behind a mess, so love and hate were intertwined!
But the Uchiha clan...
Did this matter also involve the Uchiha?
A love square??
Mikoto's face showed a trace of pity. She wondered if she should ask Lord Jun whether Grandpa Madara could go pay his respects to Lady Mito. No matter what...
So many years had passed.
Grandpa Madara probably didn't have many years left to live. If he could go see Lady Mito one last time, he might feel at peace.
However...
"The rest is up to you." Madara opened his eyes, his expression unreadable as he looked at Mikoto, showing no sign that he had just cried. He spoke flatly, "This old man needs to rest."
Then he wheeled himself away.
Seeing Grandpa Madara like this, Mikoto sighed softly and murmured, "Grandpa Madara must be really sad..."
He didn't even let her push his wheelchair anymore.
But...
With his back turned to Mikoto, Madara's eyes suddenly turned icy. The Rinnegan activated involuntarily as he muttered, "Zetsu..."
It seemed he needed to personally ask what was really going on.
No matter what...
He was now a teacher. Just like what Hashirama had done back then, he...
Had to put a stop to it.
...
"Achoo! Achoo!" Zetsu rubbed his nose and muttered, "Does that brat need something from me again?"
Otherwise, why did he have this uneasy feeling?
Turning to White Zetsu, he asked, "Were all the seeds distributed?"
"They've all been handed out," White Zetsu replied with a nod. "As you instructed, we didn't mention Uzushiogakure at all. We told them these sacred seeds were a gift from the Rabbit Goddess, bestowed upon the suffering people by her third son, the Yin-Yang Sage, out of selfless generosity."
"Good." Black Zetsu nodded in satisfaction. "Well done."
Did they expect him to spread Uzushiogakure's reputation for them??
Keep dreaming!!
He paid for the seeds himself—why should he promote Uzushiogakure's name?
Since no one knew anyway, why not let him make these ants and mongrels feel the greatness of Mother in their hearts?
They would surely be grateful!
"Surround the cities from the countryside."
Zetsu sneered. "What a brilliant strategy!"
If they hadn't adopted this approach from the start, the Rabbit Goddess's name would have been wiped out long ago.
But now...
The Rabbit Goddess faith had already taken root. Even if the Five Great Shinobi Villages wanted to destroy them, it wouldn't be easy.
However...
"There still aren't enough strong followers." Zetsu sighed. "I wonder how Lord Madara is doing these days?"
He could already sense the war was nearing its end. It was about time to bring Grandpa Madara back to the cave. If he stayed with that red-haired brat any longer, Zetsu couldn't shake this uneasy feeling.
That damn brat...
Definitely knew something.
...
"Ha!" Uzumaki Jun yawned and stretched, watching the spring rain outside. He murmured, "The war..."
"Is coming to an end."
...
Year 36 of Konoha.
The captain of Konoha's assassination squad led over a dozen members deep into Sunagakure, slaughtering countless Suna high-ranking officials and spreading panic throughout the village. At the same time, the name of Konoha's White Fang—Hatake Sakumo—spread across the shinobi world.
Though every Suna shinobi hated Hatake Sakumo to the bone, they had no way to counter his elusive assassination techniques.
"Damn it!" The Third Kazekage's face darkened. "We still haven't caught that Hatake Sakumo?"
Originally, Sunagakure had been in an excellent position, but after Konoha also acquired scientific ninja tools, the two villages reached a stalemate.
But ever since that white-haired bastard appeared, Sunagakure had slowly...
Started losing ground.
"We still can't find him," a Suna shinobi replied. "Konoha's White Fang's assassination skills are too advanced."
They couldn't detect him at all.
"Chiyo's son is still at the front, right?" The Third Kazekage rested his chin on his hands and said gravely, "Send him."
Advisor Chiyo...
Hmph.
"I'm sure he has the skills to capture him."
"Yes!" The Suna shinobi bowed respectfully.