Uzumaki Mito watched Renya's departing figure and felt that what the boy had just said wasn't wrong at all.
Compared to young Renya, Tobirama's marriage at forty years old was clearly a much more urgent matter!
At this age, it was almost impossible to find a woman of the same generation who wasn't already married—and even if there was, most of them would already have grandchildren.
She could try looking among the unmarried women in their thirties, but there were very few left at that age, and even if she found one, there was no guarantee Tobirama would like her.
If that didn't work, she could only introduce him to women in their twenties. They were young, beautiful, and energetic—surely Tobirama would like that.
Though it might seem a bit strange, for Tobirama's future happiness, she'd have to trouble the young girls a little.
Besides, Tobirama wasn't just powerful; he was also the Hokage of the village. Who was really troubling who was debatable.
As long as she spread the word, she was sure there would be plenty of willing candidates.
Mito made up her mind on the spot—she'd skip over women in their thirties and forties entirely and find a girl in her twenties for Tobirama!
But before that, she still needed to discuss it with him…
That stubborn man… she and Hashirama had tried persuading him for years, and it had never worked. He'd remained single all this time.
"Renya, call Tobirama back for lunch," Uzumaki Mito said as she stepped into the kitchen, speaking to the boy slicing vegetables.
If she could get Tobirama to come home for lunch, she'd finally have a chance to discuss his marriage.
With Hashirama gone, Tobirama's marriage was something only she could worry about.
"No problem, Mito-san," Renya immediately promised.
As long as she wasn't trying to pressure him into marriage, he didn't mind helping.
As for Senju Tobirama? That was none of his business.
For someone his age to still be single, it was no wonder Mito-san was getting anxious.
Mito glanced around. Other than Tsunade, she didn't sense anyone else nearby.
Lowering her voice, she asked quietly:
"Renya, has Hashirama contacted you recently?"
It had already been two years since Hashirama faked his death and left the village, and he still hadn't returned. She couldn't help feeling worried.
Her husband's health had never been good. What if something happened to him out there?
If he died, there might not even be anyone around to know…
Mito thought that if Renya was still in touch with Hashirama, she'd ask him to pass along a message—tell him to come back soon.
She missed him terribly after not seeing him for so long.
Renya's hand froze mid-cut, and he slowly set the kitchen knife down on the chopping board before replying.
"Mito-san, I haven't heard anything from Hashirama-san."
Ever since that night, Renya hadn't seen Senju Hashirama again. He didn't even know if the man was still alive.
But he guessed Hashirama wouldn't die easily—not before finding Madara. Never underestimate the power of bonds.
Maybe… maybe he had already found Madara by now.
"Hashirama is just unbelievable… he didn't even leave you any way to contact him," Mito muttered unhappily.
If it were her, she would've at least used summoning techniques to stay connected.
That way, they wouldn't be left in the dark like this.
Renya's lips twitched slightly. That night, they had been too busy covering up the fake death. Where would there have been time to exchange contact information?
By the time he thought of it, Hashirama had already disappeared.
"I won't bother you while you're cooking then. I need to go find some suitable candidates for Tobirama," Uzumaki Mito said, leaving the kitchen without pressing the matter further.
As long as Hashirama was alive, he would come back eventually.
And if he didn't… it would mean he was gone for good.
"Hashirama-san… what are you doing right now?" Renya murmured softly.
"You could at least send me a message…"
...
Deep within a forest somewhere in the Shinobi World.
Senju Hashirama walked alone beneath the thick canopy, a straw hat pulled low over his face.
The wind whispered through the leaves, and sunlight scattered in shifting patches across the forest floor.
He wasn't wandering aimlessly. No—he was being drawn forward, pulled by a familiar presence…It was as though an invisible thread of fate was guiding him here.
Over the past two years, Hashirama had occasionally felt this strange sensation, but lately, it had grown stronger—far stronger than ever before!
Following that feeling had brought him here, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
Finally, he arrived at a small, clear stream. The water sparkled brightly beneath the sunlight.
He instinctively softened his footsteps, hiding himself in the shadows of the trees.
Not far ahead, a man stood quietly at the water's edge, also wearing a straw hat and dressed in a long black cloak.
His posture was tall and solitary, radiating an aura of absolute isolation, as though he didn't belong to this world at all.
Hashirama's breath caught.
The man slowly raised his hand and removed his hat.
In an instant, a cascade of long, ink-black hair spilled down like a waterfall, swaying gently in the breeze.
Even just standing there, his mere presence carried an unspoken, overwhelming arrogance.
Hashirama's pupils shrank sharply.
That back… there was no mistaking it.
—Uchiha Madara!
Who else could it be but his once dearest friend?
His heartbeat quickened, but years of battlefield instinct kept him from acting rashly. He decided to watch a little longer; the last thing he wanted was to make a mistake.
The man in the black cloak seemed unaware of his presence. With long, elegant fingers, he untied the sash at his waist and slipped the cloak from his shoulders.
As the fabric fell away, hard, sculpted muscles caught the sunlight, each line brimming with explosive strength.
But that wasn't what drew Hashirama's gaze. What truly seized his attention was the deep, jagged scar across the man's back—
A sword wound… one that pierced straight through the body.
Hashirama's chest tightened violently. That scar… he knew it. It was his doing.
At the Valley of the End, he had used a wood clone to distract Madara and then drove his blade through his back, killing his closest friend with his own hands.
The guilt had nearly consumed him. He'd spent days drowning in regret, teetering on the edge of despair.
But now… this man… this man was standing alive before him.
Renya hadn't lied.
Madara… Madara was truly alive.
Seeing it with his own eyes was far more shocking than hearing it from anyone else.
These past two years, without any trace of Madara, Hashirama had even begun doubting Renya's words.
But clinging to that single thread of hope, he'd scoured the Shinobi World, following that faint, fated pull wherever it led him. Yet, until now, Madara had always eluded him.
This time, though, the sensation was overwhelming.
Even he hadn't expected that he would find Madara here—his lost friend, the man he had been searching for these past two years.
Overcome with emotion, Hashirama's eyes welled with tears.
His efforts… hadn't been in vain. He'd finally found him.
Just as Hashirama suspected, the long-haired man was indeed Uchiha Madara.
Madara had been searching tirelessly for a hidden base, a place secluded enough to remain undiscovered.
Such a sanctuary was critical for his future plans.
He had traversed the lands of the shinobi in search of one, and his long journey had left his body covered in dust.
Passing by the stream, he had stopped to wash.
In that moment, Hashirama could no longer contain himself.
His voice trembled as he stepped forward and called out:
"Madara… is that you?"
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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