'Ne, sensei.' Natsume spoke up suddenly.' Will you tell me about it. Your life.'
'What, right now?' Madara asked surprised at the sudden request. They had hardly mentioned his the topic of his life since he had told Natsume that he had once been human.
'We are just walking after all. It will help pass the time.'
'Okay. Where do you want me to start?'
Natsume shrugged. What's the first thing you remember?'
'Well, my memories of my human life are the most unclear.'
'You don't remember?'
'No. It was a long time ago. It's not like I have forgotten... I have stoped the memories from disappearing away by telling stories of that time to myself over the years. So that's why I don't know anymore what is true or not. I don't remember if these memories are real, if they really ever happened, or if I have just made them up. I think some of it must be, because when I try to remember for days on end, I sometimes see a face, or a voice that is familiar but I don't recognise. Sometimes I even wonder if I lied to myself, because of course I can't even remember if I ever did such a thing. But I do remember the overwhelming pain and sorrow that came afterward, so I reason that there may be some truth in what I think my past was. But I guess in the end, it doesn't matter: if I was made of fake memories, so be it. The world has given me so much - who am I to regret?'
I had said to Natsume before that I was born into a small hunter gatherer-tribe. I say this, for what else could it be? It was much later, when I was no longer human, that the tribe leader took the decision to move away from our nomadic lifestyle, and many generations later that we had a proper village. But when I was a child, there was no such thing, no pattern of life that I can remember. I have no recollection of a mother or father either. I don't think that it was a big concept then: everyone was simply a child of the clan, and all the children were siblings. And it was a simple life, nothing like those of humans' nowadays: we woke and slept with the sun and during the day we travelled. The youth learned not only from the adults, but primarily from experience. This was the reason that the tribe evolved so quickly. There was nothing much more to life then, but living.
From that time, what I treasure more are the feelings. It's strange that I don't remember the things that happened, but I do remember how I felt. The feeling of being joyful and content, the feeling of fear and relief. Simple feelings, unlike the complicated emotions of pride and jealousy and belonging. The simple feelings at the root of my being.
Then there was a storm. An awful storm that no one was prepared for. I was washed away by the river. As the strong current pulled me underwater, I remember dying. My last though was how calm it was here, surrounded by the water which muffled all sound and absorbed all movement.
When I came to, I was in my beast form, washed up on the shore. My head was hazy and I could hardly remember who I was and what had happened. But when I did, I was grateful to the gods who had given me a second life.