CN War, violence, death, graphic description of fatal injuries, mention of dead relatives

A dream, part 1

10 years ago

"Do that again, please, Tobirama."

"Do you really think this will help us?", Tobirama asked his brother worriedly, but formed the finger sign anyway and created another Shadow Clone.

Hashirama nodded and watched closely what Tobirama was doing. Unfortunately, he was not a sensor like his brother, but he hoped to take something from it anyway. He looked at the doppelganger from all sides and poked a finger into its ribs. Tobirama's technique might have been just the solution they needed to save them. Unlike Tobirama, Hashirama wasn't good at knotting his brain around all the theoretical background of jutsus, but his Mokuton didn't need theory either. It was based on instinct, and that instinct told him that he would be able to create something very similar with it. Tobirama, as always quite the theorist, was not convinced.

Hashirama didn't like experimenting with his Mokuton in front of other people and even Tobirama was only a limited exception to that. For years they had tried to relate this technique to other known techniques, so far without success. What had worked quite well so far, however, was for Hashirama to go into the forest, absorb the natural energy around him and then just do what felt natural. Sometimes something actually came of it and he returned with a new jutsu.

It pained him that no one understood what he was doing. Not even Tobirama and he was the smartest person he knew. His Mokuton set him apart from others and made him unique. He didn't want to be unique. He didn't want others to look at him like some strange anomaly.

Hashirama concentrated and slapped his hands together. Maybe if he shaped his chakra like this this time …

"Now that Butsuma is dead and you are our leader, maybe you should just take care of Tajima while I stall Madara and Izuna for so long," Tobirama suggested. "With the Shadow Clones, that should be fine."

"No," Hashirama countered. "Madara is too strong for you and so is Tajima. I have to do this."

"You can't fight both at the same time," Tobirama protested. "You may be stronger than Madara, but not by much. That's not enough to fight both at ..." He interrupted himself when he saw what his brother was doing. His eyes widened in amazement.

A wooden figure detached itself from Hashirama. The Clone's form was clearly human, though his features were only remotely reminiscent of Hashirama and his movements seemed choppy and, well, wooden. Triumphantly, Hashirama raised a fist in the air. "Ha! I knew it!"

Tobirama's shadow double walked around the wooden double and this time it was up to him to pick at the other. "The Chakra flow wasn't transferred properly," he noted. "It doesn't feel natural yet, it needs to flow more."

Hashirama rolled his eyes. "Otōto, your doubles are grumbling even more than you. And that's saying something! Hey, look, a new jutus. Isn't it great!"

Tobirama dissolved his Clone. "In this state, Madara will turn him into sawdust in seconds if you send this into battle."

Both Hashirama and his Clone hung their heads simultaneously. "Always so serious," Hashirama complained. "Yet it's totally exciting to think up new jutsus."

Tobirama snorted. "I think you mean more like wildly flailing around and throwing your chakra around without rhyme or reason."

"Hey, this time I tried to be at least a little more systematic about the whole thing! Just like you! And see, it worked. Now I just have to refine it. Hmm, what should I call the jutsu?"

"Don't even think about coming up with something ridiculous again. Keep it simple, Moku Bunshin no Jutsu will do."

Hashirama conceded defeat. "Very well, then. But now let's work on making this technique better so it'll actually do some good."

For the rest of the day, they set about improving the wooden doubles. Hashirama might not be that good at theory, but he possessed exactly two strengths: The first was his incredibly large Chakra reserve, which Madara alone could match, and the second was his extremely precise mastery of that same enormous amount of Chakra. Combined with Tobirama's sensor skills, it was easy for them to improve the Wooden Clones so that they were actually operational.

Then it was time to test their possibilities. They used the Shadow Clones as a model again and pitted the two techniques against each other. In the process, they made an interesting discovery.

"Wait, wasn't that a clear hit?", Tobirama interrupted the test fight.

"Definitely," his Clone confirmed.

"Ow, you headbutted me!" complained Hashirama's Clone, rubbing his forehead.

Tobirama joined them and headbutted first the Wood Clone and then the Shadow Clone. As expected, the Shadow Clone dissolved with a thump, but the Wood Clone remained and sulked.

"How interesting," Tobirama remarked.

Hashirama rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "This is different from all other Clone Techniques." He released the jutsu, which again worked as usual.

"Go on, create another one," Tobirama prompted him. "I want to see what they can withstand."

Hashirama complied and they continued the experiments. As it turned out, Hashirama's Wood Clones were exceptionally resilient. Not only did they possess the same abilities as him, but they also possessed his strength, and unlike Tobirama's Shadow Clones, they did not disintegrate at the first serious hit. This advantage was enormous.

As with other Clone Techniques, Hashirama's Chakra distributed evenly among all his doubles. Even halved, that was still far more than most possessed in total, but considering they were going to use this technique to stall Madara, it would only be a delaying tactic. They were aware that Madara would be able to defeat a Clone sooner or later. They hoped for later.

Butsuma was dead and Tajima was not and that dealt the senju a severe setback. Fights between the two clans had always followed the same pattern so far: While the two clan heads dueled, their sons went for each other's throats and the rest watched to stay out of their way. Tōka, meanwhile, was very good at keeping their shinobi out of the duels. The forces were even and so far no one had been able to gain the upper hand. Now that Butsuma was dead, Hashirama was the only one who could take on Madara or his father. But both together, that would be an almost impossible task even for him. Their plan was therefore to stall Madara until Hashirama managed to at least incapacitate his father, better yet kill him. That would balance their forces again and nullify the Uchiha's momentary advantage. With the capabilities of the Wood Clones, that might even be achievable.

If not, well …

Hashirama forbade himself any further thought that here he was planning to murder his friend's father. And yes, he still considered Madara his friend. Deep down, he didn't want to have to do that, because he still cherished the dream of peace. It seemed he was further away from it than ever. But hadn't Madara and he reasoned together that the way to peace was to become stronger, so strong that eventually they would have to be acknowledged by everyone? He did not want to walk the path to strength over the dead bodies of his friend's family. But he had to.

His father would be proud of him, and that was the worst part of it all. Mother had warned him not to become like Butsuma, and always he had carried her last words in his heart. He did not want to become the murderer Butsuma had wanted him to be.

"Otōto, maybe there is another way," Hashirama mused. He just didn't want to give up hope. "One that doesn't involve killing Tajima. Surely there are poisons that will only cripple him so he can't fight. Then we wouldn't have to …"

"Too risky," Tobirama interrupted him. "Everything can be reversed somehow, except death. He has to die, otherwise that's it for us."

"I see," Hashirama muttered dejectedly.

Madara was his friend. But he also bore responsibility for his clan. The path of the shinobi had never been an easy one. Hashirama had no choice but to gird on his father's sword and prepare for the next battle.

Sooner or later it would come to that, whether some daimyō hired them or not. Senju and Uchiha were long past this point of needing a contract as a reason to go after each other. The chasm that separated the two clans cut too deep.

Hashirama knew he was a hopeless optimist, but unlike Tobirama, he didn't see that as a negative thing. Madara and he were like night and day, but once they had shared a common dream. That dream had bonded them and bridged the gap between them.

Madara had called it wishful thinking, as if their ideas had been nothing more than illusions that could never become reality. But Hashirama refused to acknowledge that.

These days he often sat far into the night on the engawa of the house that had once housed his whole family and was now so empty since only Tobirama and he were there. He would look up at the moon and listen into the stillness of the night, trying to leave the silence of the house behind. In those moments, he wondered if Madara also looked up at the sky and saw the same thing he did.

They had once shared a dream, and he would not allow this world they lived in to destroy what they had once shared. The bridge may have been shattered, but he would rebuild it. Somehow.

Somehow he would make peace and in doing so he would not only be able to protect his clan but also win Madara back as his friend. Somehow.

Even if he didn't know how to accomplish that now.

Tajima knew he had to strike quickly now that his nemesis was dead. It had weakened the Senju to lose their clan head, and Hashirama, at just sixteen, was still comparatively young and inexperienced to take up his legacy. He had spent more than half his life at war, fighting alongside his father. But actually leading a clan was different from being second to his father.

Accordingly, it wasn't long before the Uchiha provoked another open conflict. It was approaching winter and most clans were preparing for the harsh season. They gathered supplies and retreated to their core areas. Battles were rarely fought in winter, the weather conditions were too risky for both sides.

Nevertheless, Tajima knew how to use this to his advantage. He attacked the Senju's supply lines until Hashirama was forced to actively do something about it. And so it happened that the two clans faced each other again barely a month after Butsuma's death. A short time in which both sides had barely had the opportunity to lick their wounds. The Uchiha were weakened, but so were the Senju.

It had not been possible for them to choose a battlefield to their advantage. Tajima knew that the Senju were more at home in the forest than any other clan, and so had lured them out into the open field to rob them of that advantage as well.

With his hand on the hilt of Butsuma's katana - his katana, Hashirama corrected himself - he watched from his elevated position on the hill as the Uchiha approached them. As always, Tajima led the way, his two remaining sons at his side. Out of old habit, Hashirama searched Madara's eyes for the tiniest spark of what they had once shared, but found nothing but ice-cold hostility. It stung him.

Never look an Uchiha in the eye. Never. You die faster than you can blink, Butsuma whispered into his ear from beyond the grave.

Hashirama had looked Madara in the eye countless times.

"He limps a little," Tobirama whispered beside him. "Perhaps Butsuma had managed to injure him before he was killed."

"I'm not sure, I hadn't been able to follow the fight closely," Hashirama whispered in reply. "But yes, now that you mention it. Tajima seems to prefer his left leg."

"He is right-handed," Tobirama reminded him. "That means his stance will be unsteady. Use that."

Hashirama nodded as a sign that he understood. This was not going to be a walk in the park. Too much could go wrong, too many contingencies arise. He would have to use every advantage he had, no matter how small.

Tajima stepped forward. "Give up, child!" he called over to them. "Why delay the inevitable any longer and spill blood needlessly? Your father is dead, croaked on my blade, and without him you stand no chance against us."

"I disagree," Hashirama replied. "The death of one man does not make as great a difference as you would like, Uchiha-sama."

"Seems your father didn't drill any sensible war tactics into you," Tajima said. "Very well, then, learn it the hard way."

Hashirama looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were gathering in the distance, making an already gloomy day seem even darker. Already the first snowflakes were falling and dancing softly to earth, carried by a frosty breeze. Winter came early this year.

When he looked behind him, he saw the expectant gazes of his clansmen all resting on him. They were relying on him, for he was now the only one left standing between them and the two strongest Uchiha. If he failed, then ... no. No, he would not let that happen. Not at any price. He could not abandon them and least of all he could leave Tobirama alone.

He had a dream. But he had also sworn an oath to himself.

"I will protect those who cannot protect themselves." An oath he intended to keep at all costs this time. Then he glanced at Tōka. "You know the plan."

She nodded. "You got it."

Very well. Now it was on. Hashirama slapped his hands together.

"Mokuton Hijutsu: Jukai Kōtan!"

The ground came to life. On the Uchiha's side, trees burst forth and twisted up everywhere. As if they were living creatures that could move freely, the trees clawed their sturdy roots into the soil as their branches snaked around, grabbing any enemy that couldn't escape them fast enough. In just a few moments, the Uchiha's fighting formation was in total chaos. Stunned, Tajima and his sons turned and saw with horror what Hashirama had done to the Uchiha with just one attack behind them.

The forest was the Senju's element and Hashirama was not going to let Tajima take that away from them so easily.

While Tajima was still far too caught off guard by the unfamiliar jutsu that had taken away his advantage with one blow, Tobirama charged forward to pounce on Izuna. Hashirama formed his wooden double, who immediately followed his brother, hopefully keeping Madara busy long enough until the matter with Tajima was settled. Then he drew his own sword and began the fight.

Tōka shouted an order and the Senju went on the attack, taking advantage of the momentary confusion of their enemies while it lasted. Already the first fireballs were flaring up in the forest, turning the wood to ash in seconds. The Senju were masters of fighting in the forest and made abundant use of their skills as they rushed between the trees.

Hashirama put all the strength he had into his strike as he brought the katana down on Tajima. Clashing, the blades met.

"Not bad," Tajima said appreciatively as he countered Hashirama's force. "You surprised us, I didn't expect that."

"Such bad luck, though, that your Sharingan is unable to copy my Mokuton," Hashirama retorted.

He had never faced Tajima directly before, his opponent had always been Madara. Butsuma, however, had analysed his fights with Tajima often enough and shared his insights with his sons, so he still had an idea of his opponent. Tajima apparently did not have that advantage. No one but Hashirama understood the Mokuton in its entirety, and at least this once it should hopefully have been to his advantage. Madara was the only one who had experience in competing against the Mokuton, and surely he too would have shared his knowledge with his family. But the fact that Hashirama had nevertheless been able to surprise Tajima with his forest showed him that perhaps he had been able to take a tiny advantage of the element of surprise after all.

While they were still crossing blades, Hashirama had a spear-like root shoot out of the ground behind his opponent. It would have pierced Tajima, but at the last moment he was able to dodge it. The root grazed his shoulder, but his armour protected him. He leapt away, putting distance between himself and Hashirama.

"Without a hand sign." Astonishment sounded from Tajima's voice. But then he regained his composure. "But it's no use to you, child. You cannot stand against Madara and me at the same time."

"True," Hashirama confirmed. "But I don't have to."

Tajima raised his eyes and scanned the surroundings for his son. Realising what Hashirama's plan was, he gritted his teeth and gripped his sword tighter. "A double, and I can't even tell who the real one is."

"Maybe him, maybe me. One does not know."

Tajima's face twisted into a grim smile. "You're full of surprises. This is going to be an entertaining fight."

Hashirama had no intention of entertaining him for long. When he saw Tajima summon his Sharingan, he knew his opponent was finally taking him for granted. He went on the attack.

As to be expected, Tajima was incredibly fast and as agile as only a Sharingan bearer could move. It was to Hashirama's advantage that he was used to fighting Madara, for the latter was close to his father's skill, perhaps even surpassing it.

He covered Tajima with a series of quick and powerful punches. Tajima kept up with him, but as Hashirama concentrated his attacks on his right side, he was gradually put on the defensive. Several times Tajima tried to cast a genjutsu on him, but each time Hashirama was able to dodge. Tajima was not Madara, he would certainly not look him in the eye.

With a deft, Sharingan-enhanced counterattack, Tajima broke away from Hashirama and once again backed away a little. Hashirama immediately followed him up with several root spears to prevent him from resting, but Tajima turned them all into shavings. He was indeed a master of the sword, you had to hand it to him.

"Stop playing games!" threatened Tajima. "Your wood burns just like any other." He formed a rapid succession of hand signs. Then he took a deep breath.

Hashirama didn't even wait to see what would follow. He slapped his hands together and summoned the roots of the forest kingdom to protect him.

"Katon: Karyū Endan!"

At the same moment that Tajima formed the fire dragons, Hashirama's wooden wall closed into a hemisphere. As he had expected, Tajima had wanted to steer one of his dragons around him while the others attacked him from the front and the side. As it was, however, they all four collided with Hashirama's defences. He let more of his chakra flow into his wood to strengthen it, yet he soon noticed an acrid smell of smoke. Tajima's fire was indeed strong.

He did not give the Uchiha time to think of a new strategy to break through Hashirama's defence. He pressed his hands to the ground and blindly let wooden spears shoot out again. Hashirama did not expect to hit Tajima with them, but he did not intend to. Much more he wanted to keep him busy and direct him exactly where he wanted him.

Into the forest.

Hashirama unravelled the wooden wall. A trail of wooden spears led to the edge of the forest and when he lifted his gaze, he saw Tajima standing on one of the branches. Now it was his turn to smile grimly as he looked up at his opponent.

"You're strong, I'll give you that," Tajima said appreciatively. "It's almost a shame you're a Senju."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Hashirama said dryly. Without wasting any more time, he attacked Tajima again with his spears.

"You need to come up with something new for once, though," Tajima called out to him as he dodged the frontal attack backwards while deflecting the wood with his sword.

Perfect. Tajima had made a mistake and hopefully it was his last. For now he was in the woods.

With a huge burst of chakra, strong enough to shatter the ground around him, Hashirama made the forest come to life once more. With their branches, the trees began to lash out at Tajima, vines twisting around and trying to grab him. The attacks came from all sides at once. Tajima realised his mistake and formed one Katon after another while at the same time lashing out with his flaming sword. His fire was indeed powerful, but the forest was stronger.

Hashirama coordinated the attacks so that Tajima could not escape from the forest, and at the same time concentrated them on his weak right side. To make the whole forest dance to his will over a longer period of time cost even him an enormous amount of chakra, and he knew he didn't have much time left. So he put all his power into this final attack.

And it worked.

Tajima danced like Hashirama had never seen anyone dance before. His movements were fluid like water and so fast that the human eye could hardly follow. But Hashirama's attacks crashed into him incessantly. At some point, what Hashirama had hoped for had to happen. Tajima's injured leg gave way under him.

He stumbled and immediately tried to regain his balance. But Hashirama immediately followed him. Vines shot up and bound Tajima until he was completely motionless. He fought back with all his might, but it was a hopeless struggle.

Hashirama approached him through the fires Tajima had caused. The heat scorched his skin, but his regeneration quickly made up for it. More critical was his low Chakra level. This had cost him more Chakra than he would have liked.

"Finish it!" shouted Tajima to him. "Go on, finish it!"

"It seems to me that I am not the one learning a lesson today," Hashirama stated. "Yet you Uchiha know that we Senju are a clan of the forest."

Tajima twisted his lips into a smile. "You are a demon of the woods, indeed. Seems Butsumas and my sons surpass us after all."

Hashirama granted him the honour of a swift death. A final wooden spear pierced Tajima's chest, shredding lung and heart, and emerged from his back like a scarlet flower blossoming. And even then, out of sheer spite, Tajima clung desperately to life for a few last seconds, until finally the light in his eyes did go out.

Hashirama felt nothing but regret when his father's darkness finally prevailed.

"No!"

Hashirama spun around when he heard the cry. Among the fires and smoke he could make out a figure. Madara had come, and that could only mean that he had been able to defeat the Wood Clone. How incongruous. Hashirama raised his sword and hoped against hope that his Chakra would be enough for this fight.

But it was not to come to that. Madara saw his father's body, impaled on the Mokuton, and he certainly saw Hashirama's weakened state. And yet he did not move.

"Madara." It sounded more pleading than Hashirama had intended.

Madara's face showed no emotion. Wordlessly, he turned away and ran off, ordering a retreat. Hashirama lowered his sword, exhausted. They may have won this battle against all odds, but at what cost? His dream seemed to have receded into the unattainable distance.

Somehow. But how?