Senju Hashirama stood atop the small mountain overlooking the new village. The cool winds caressed him, blowing strands of his long black hair into his face. His eyes glowed with pride as he viewed what he had created. Konohagakure may have been founded by the entirety of the Senju and Uchiha Clans, but in his mind the man considered the village his own. Was it not him that surrounded the boundaries with a forest the likes of which man had never seen, entirely on his own power? Was it not him that proposed the village in the first place? And was it not him that the villagers chose to lead them?
He knew it was vain of him to take most or all of the credit; it was unlike him to even think about such things. But Hashirama felt that the village truly was his. Every person inside the great walls they had built was his family, their joys and anger and pain his, because he was willing to do anything for any single one of them. He would put everything on the line to save the smallest child or oldest man or anyone in between because they were all his precious people, even those who hated him with an unrivaled passion simply for not being one of their own.
If he were the type of man to shed a tear, he would have done so. The beauty they had all created was unrivaled by anything. A village that would rely on the strength of everyone together, with the Will of Fire shining brightly within them all; such a village would rise to the top and remain there. Once the citizens learned to trust each other, they would become an unstoppable force, an unmovable object.
The night air was growing bitter, and Hashirama took shelter on a large branch of one of his trees, covered in green leaves even in the middle of autumn. Smiling, he ran his hand down the trunk, feeling every groove and rough edge, sculpted with his blood and sweat and made perfect with his love. These were trees meant to stand tall and strong forever, even in the worst of weather or during the fiercest of fights. They were the true protectors of his village hidden in the leaves.
He leaned against the trunk and closed his dark brown eyes, thinking of times already past and the wonders the future would hold. He thought of his beautiful, spirited wife, her belly swollen with their first child. His brother, his lieutenant, who had already rounded up students to pass on their teachings to. Madara Uchiha, his best friend and worst enemy, whom he desperately wanted to make up with after seeing the look on the man's face when he learned that he wouldn't become the Hokage. And everyone else, the village's lifeblood and strength and future.
By the time he opened his eyes, the moon had dipped below the horizon and the sun was slowly ascending to its place high in the reddening sky. Soon it would be time for him to don the formal robe and fancy hat and begin to oversee the village. His first day on the job would be an incredibly busy one, that was for sure. Setting up the village itself was the easy part; getting it to run was the more difficult part, requiring more finesse and leadership ability, which he had gained as head of his Clan.
The time for celebration was nowhere near over, either. The previous day had been the day of the village's birth, and this dawning day was his. He would grow and age right alongside his village, and it would continue for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years after he was gone.
He descended from the tree and landed without a sound on the compacted dirt road leading to the tall building that housed his office, the Hokage Tower. Soon the village would be alive and bustling with activity, but for now, the Shodai Hokage Senju Hashirama enjoyed his quiet peace.
The fellow countrymen of Konoha make up each part of my body… those of the village believe in me, and I believe in them. That's what it means to be Hokage!