Disclaimer: All my love for this saga won't change the fact that I do not own Naruto.

English not being my native language, please forgive me for the eventual errors I might do, I'll do my best to avoid doing them in the first place or remove them after the fact.

Summary: A story of Hashirama Senju, the one who revolutionized the Shinobi world. AU.


Season I

Prelude: Ambition


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Careful now.

He had been planning this for so long… everything hinged on his success here - the foundation of his Plan relied on it.

Now wasn't the time for a slip up.

He watched the man walk out of the little shrine, leaving him alone in the damp, cold room.

Finally.

He knew what he needed to do to see his goal comes to fruition… And he knew what needed to be done to acquire it.

This is how his Plan had been hatched; a quest to collect the necessary ingredients to pave the way for his success.

As a result, he had been observing from the shadows… observing for so long, it had become second nature to him.

Observation became his weapon, with him waiting for an opportunity to exploit.

THE opportunity.

Powerlessness was no joke, in this world… for power was everything.

That's the lesson his brothers had teached him, in their ignorance… And he had taken it to the heart, from deep within the shadows...

Such was the way of the weak.

Such was the way he had been cast upon.

He didn't need much. A simple opening…

If you wanted to take over a stronghold, poisoning the well was always going to be more efficient than mounting a frontal assault on the defenders…

He knew it for he saw how the humans operated that strategy… Efficient and cost-effective in resources…

So he observed, and observed some more.

Observation and patience became intertwined in his mind… Patience, his second weapon.

A weapon he direly needed.

To tame what he thought was his enemy, time, and turn it into his natural ally...

And, thankfully, this came to be too.

He observed his brothers after their ultimate betrayal, how they usurped the throne that was never meant for them.

Saw how the youngest spawned and left inheritors to fend for themselves in this cursed reality.

Saw how the eldest spawned and raised further usurpers to the rightful rule.

Those last spawns in particular were naives.

Moderately talented in one case, desperately useless in the other…

But both had inherited characteristics from his treacherous brother and used them in their own unique ways.

And both were following his teachings - disgusting, sectarist nonsense in his opinion.

But as much as it was nonsense to him, it wasn't so for them… And maybe, in there, laid the opportunity he had been craving for, the one way he could poison the well without them even noticing…

He decided to strike whilst the opportunity was still there, enticing, promising.

He approached one of the spawns and under false circumstances, managed to stir him in the most promising direction: conflict.

Then, he kept observing…

The effect was immediate.

The spawns furthering their differing ideologies…

Their disputes turning into confrontations…

And their confrontations into wars.

Everything worked beyond his wildest dream.

He had managed it.

Observation.

And Patience.

Thanks to those, he had created a cycle of self-perpetuating death and rebirth that went through the spawns and their progenies, and the progenies of their progenies…
Until the characteristics of his brother, the ones the spawns had inherited, took roots into the bodies of their descendance...

And today, it was the day he would harness the fruit of that labour.

They called themselves Uchihas.

The offshoots of that greedy spawn bastard he had first corrupted…
And in all of them, laid the seeds of what he sought out for his Plan.

Power.

A very special one.

The scattering of what this world held as true natural disasters; folk tales creatures made real... the Uchihas would be the means to put an end to that.
To wrestle back the creatures under control.

His control, if he played his cards right…

He chuckled.

Another human colloquialism.

That's what he got for spending so much time observing those insects…

Careful now.

All those possibilities would come to be only if he didn't slip up here.

But he wouldn't.

The Uchihas were like their ancestor.

Arrogant.

Full of themselves.

Certain of their own dominance.

They never imagined someone could slip into their midst, so reliant they were into their dojutsu…

But he did. He did! He alone, a powerless shadow cast out into this world…

All this time spent lurking around this village, learning the displacements of the guards, their routines, the times when the shrine was unguarded and the ones when it was not…

All his efforts had led him to this moment.

The old tablet was here, in front of him.

His brother's teachings in full display and revered by the unsuspecting Uchihas…

What a joke.

The Uchihas weren't like his brother. They weren't even like the spawn that served them of ancestor.

Their blood was weak.

Their dojutsu was weak.

As they were, they could only interpret small parts of the tablet. Glimpses. Droplets of his brother's truth.

They didn't have the full picture and wouldn't have it for a long time…

Because the seeds of the power he sought to bring forth needed to be cultivated first.
That was the beauty of it: only the completed power could have discerned the treachery he was about to commit.

The Uchihas would never know about his revisions; when the time come, they would take them for the real deal.

And just as he had done for their ancestor, so he did for them, setting them up to go on the path he had decided for them: a quest of their own for the ultimate power he sought for him.

A small opportunity.

That's all he had needed to change the fate of this world…

And as he emerged from the little temple, pelting toward the neighbouring forest, he made a vow.

To commit himself, once more, to the accomplishment of his goal.

More observation. More patience.

Whether in one lifetime or in one hundred, he would wait, for the right generation of individuals to emerge…

"Patience Mother, I'll deliver you from your shackles… It's a promise."

Above him, the full moon bathed him of its ethereal light.

And soon, lost sight of him among the other shadows cast by the forest.

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Season I

Chapter One: A fortunate meeting


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The rock slid with ease once, twice, then with a resounding - splash! - dropped in the middle of the river.

Madara managed to follow its trail for a couple of seconds, because of how clear the water was in this part of the creek.

It was a beautiful day, with a bright, blue sky showering this part of the forest with its light.

The river reflected it in simmering pockets of gold here and there, and Madara decided it was the day.

The day worthy of him finally – finally! – managing to get a rock across the peaceful river stream he was currently at.

It had taken him quite some time – and sneaking around – to find this place: remote enough, and with a current relatively cooperative for his attempts to, hopefully, fructify.

Weeks really.

A place where he could be at ease with himself, not smothered by the heavy stares of his father…

"Tch," scowled Madara while picking up what would be a tremendous stone to throw away: smooth, linear, battered by the weather itself yet very light.

Perfect.

He needed to focus here, not dwell on what might or might not be happening back at the village.

"This time, I'll reach your other side for sure, just you wait river!" he muttered under his breath, playing absentmindedly with the stone in his hand.

What angle would do the trick this time?

Should he be trying to narrow it even more, maybe give more slack to the wrist on the throw? Unnatural as it was for him to do it that way, surely with this stone…

Something flew past him very fast.

It slid with ease on the river' surface once, twice, thrice… on the fourth time, it rebounded with a surprising - knock! - before collapsing on the other side of the river.

A rock.

Madara turned around, hand gripped on his now perfectly useless stone.

A boy his age was standing a couple of metres away from him, one arm extended and an infuriating grin apparent on his face.

"Who the hell are you?" growled Madara, feeling the pinches of jealousy tinge on him already.

He was undeniably the shooter, and to think this had been such a perfect throw on his first attempt…

The other boy released his stance, turned toward Madara and smiled even more wildly as he inclined his head slightly.

"Well, the winner of this little contest of course," the other boy said with satisfaction. "I mean, your attempt was really clumsy, no offence dear rival."

The arrogant brat.

Who did he think he was? What with that ridiculous haircut of his… He looked like someone had dropped a bowl of charcoal on his head, even though those hairs didn't look thick at all… Izuna had deep black hair too, like the stranger... but his were at least arranged expertly.

These were just bad.

Madara detailed the other boy as he approached the riverbank.

He wore large blue pants that made him look thinner than he already was. His tanned face was breathing mirth and friendliness, but his scarf made it look like a tiny egg sitting on a giant nest…

The ensemble just didn't mash up at all, and that dreadful haircut wasn't helping. Was he a civilian? Only a civilian would dress so foolishly…

The river ran for kilometres throughout this forest.

As bad as the situation was with the warring clans, this was still the only place in the area who could provide water easily to neighbouring villages.

Civilians had to come to it daily for the sake of their various activities, Madara should have expected his nice spot to be known by others from different villages.

This guy probably was attached to a larger party and had been wandering off to this place out of habit.

Women cleaning their clothing certainly – men wouldn't have allowed a kid to slack off in participating in menial, tedious tasks...

Well, women wouldn't have either, but they couldn't do much to a boy bent on walking off, save for a few remonstrances.

Men however…

A good beating would have kept that kid in place, with the group – or the threat of a good beating if he didn't comply.

Yes… that was probably it… probably… if it weren't for the part where that guy had managed to sneak up on him without him realising…

That part made Madara very suspicious…

"Tch, I wasn't even trying you fool," dismissed Madara with a wave of his hand.

The knowing smirk on the other boy's face told Madara he didn't buy his lie though. Could it be that he had been observing him for a while before revealing himself?

How?

He had been there for a while, surely he would have picked up on someone hiding around to spy on him? Even grown-ups had a hard time sneaking up on him back at the village.

"Sure, you weren't," teased the other boy while picking another rock. "Because if you were, you'd know you should widen the angle of your shot, not narrow it… right? Watch."

And with a supple move from his hand, he threw the rock, which connected once, twice, thrice, four times with the water before reaching the other side of the river.

"See? It wasn't a fluke," said the boy, looking pointedly at Madara who felt the urgent need to wipe off this smile from the other boy's face.

"You talk too much, stranger," snarled Madara. "Besides, I don't need your tricks, I'll show you how it's done! Watch me you fool."

Heh, if he riled up so easily, this guy had to be a civilian, thought Hashirama while looking at his attempt.

The boy shifted stance, leaning back while his arm shot forward, like the string of a bow.

Hashirama's brown eyes widened for an instant: this would have been a skilled shuriken throw – if it had been a shuriken.

The rock this other kid used was too imbalanced to be thrown like a shuriken. Maybe the other kid had yet to realise it…

Still, this looked dangerously like shinobi skill.

That boy…

He didn't look like much with his spiky hair, pallid complexion, and outfit poorly appropriate to the exercises they were having.

At least, the clothes Hashirama was sporting allowed for easy and wide movements, whilst the other boy had to twist around in his haori and slim shorts to manage... a failing throw.

The stone had sunk within a couple of metres from the opposite shore, with an insulting "plump!" to show for it.

Hashirama watched the boy's sudden crestfallen face wrestle with confusion and, for the tiniest of moments, sympathy washed away the desire to gloat... just as the other child exploded.

"Bastard, YOU did this! You came next to me for the sole purpose to throw me off-balance, is that it? Huh? How can I perform in these conditions?
I can't even take a leak when people are around… That's how conscious I am of my surroundings! Jeez, you are unbelievable, you are!"

He was gesturing wildly, eyes bulging comically out of their socket, pestering, and cursing menaces under his breath…

But instead of talking back or showing the same previous air of smugness, Madara saw the other boy's face lose colours entirely and watched him, to his bewilderment, crouch on the ground, arms around the knees, head lowered with an air of apparent defeat to him.

The sight was so absurd it caused Madara to pause in his rant at once. What on earth…?

"I'm sorry," the other boy said with a little voice, much timider and delicate than Madara was expecting.

Was he pranking him somehow? Surely, he wasn't really hurt by what he had just said…right?

He was just venting really, fooling around…

Madara observed the crouched figure suspiciously.

As ridiculous as it sounded, this guy seemed down because of his little rant. That was not the show of mental fortitude a ninja should have. No way…

"Hey, it's alright… I was just riling you up you know… No need to feel so peachy all of a sudden… What's your name anyway?" Madara muttered, still undecided about how strange this boy was.

He looked up at him from under his bangs, his eyes – calculating?

"Well yeah, I know that already dear rival," the other boy piped with a gleeful tone in his voice." You are a bit of a sore loser, aren't you? 'I'll show you, river!'" he added with his lips twitching slightly upward, when looking at the confused stare Madara shot him.

Madara felt his cheeks grow red with embarrassment as he shouted loudly to the giggling figure at his feet.

"Stop screwing around stranger! What kind of reaction is this, are you mocking me? You smart ass! Who the hell are you anyway?!"

Hashirama burst out laughing, getting back up enthusiastically, and pointing fingers triumphantly at his new stone-skipping acquaintance.

"The reaction of the victor, dear rival! The name is Hashirama and it's MY stone who's on the other side of that river, mind you… or rather, the both of them!'

Riling up that boy was so funny thought Hashirama, his expressions were priceless… gave a nice change of pace from that stone-faced Tobirama and Itama was just too young to lead around, too much of an easy prey...

"You wait and see how being victorious works for you once I'll skip you across the river, Hashirama!" shouted Madara madly.

His words clearly stung the other boy who paled at once and was crouched again moments later, seemingly plunged into despair.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you…" the boy murmured with a contrite voice. "I – I'll accept whatever fate you'll have for me, even if it's skipping me across the river."

Madara looked at him with absolute confusion, wondering if the other boy wasn't affected by some sort of madness for having such drastic mood-swing.

"How can you even be left to your own devices? You seem mad to me half the time," Madara wondered aloud sceptically, hands on the hips. "You need to get a grip already!"

"But how can I?" said Hashirama with a sad look. "When I'll probably end-up at the bottom of the river, like all your other stones before me?"

The spiky-haired boy saw red at once.

"You brat!" he roared, pointing to the forest behind the other boy. "Just get lost! Go back wherever you come from!"

Hashirama stood up, sighing theatrically, and looking at Madara with a very disappointed expression.

Well, all good things had an end, not a big surprise all in all… That boy Madara had finally gotten enough, the same way Tobirama usually had, though with a much more spectacular outburst to witness.

This had been fun.

Hopefully they could meet up again in the future… It was depressing to consider things that way though… What with the conflicts and everything…

"Jeez, wait!"

Madara grabbed the other boy by the shoulder, feeling confused.

He had a hard time reconciling his reaction.

At first, he had been really annoyed by the other boy's provocative attitude and humour, but on the other hand he couldn't deny how entertaining this brat was.

He wanted him to stay, but hell if he was ever going to admit that to this smart ass, he didn't know him at all, but something told him that he would never hear the end of it if he admitted it…

"Couldn't you be clearer with your feelings or what?" rambled Hashirama, frowning at him sternly. "Do you want me to stay or go? I'll have you know that being indecisive is really not that great for – "

The boy stilled, his sentence trailing off into an inaudible whisper. His widened eyes were fixing a point behind Madara, and his lips parted slightly as if caught by surprise.

Madara turned around quickly.

A body.

A body was floating in the river, roaming aimlessly, at the mercy of the stream.

The man was armoured.

A shinobi.

Something dashed in front of Madara and it took him a moment to realise that it was Hashirama, stern-faced and running on the surface of the water as steadily as if he was on the ground.

Madara cursed himself for not realising earlier that this boy was indeed a shinobi – he had been careless.

Hashirama didn't notice how his posture shifted, nor how his hand loosened the rock in it a little bit, or how his chakra started silently building underneath his feet…

All there was to Hashirama was the body in the river, the body of someone unknown if the gods were feeling generous…

"So… you are a ninja," stated Madara with a very matter of fact tone, eyes piercing the other boy's back.

Hashirama didn't answer, concerned only with dragging the body of the shinobi upward to examine it further.

"He's dead," Hashirama said once the gushing on the man's neck became apparent. "And this symbol… He was a Hagoromo."

Which meant…

"This place is probably not safe right now, you should head home immediately."

Madara remained silent, watching as the other boy stood up, a grave look etched on his traits.

He knew perfectly well that the Hagoromo clan lived far up the stream of the Naka River, in underground caves.

Never one of their fallen would have been able to drift so far down without them retrieving it. This warrior must have been killed in the area, possibly close to where they were...

He was right, the place was much more dangerous now.

Suddenly, the other boy jumped from the middle of the river to the other shore, landing gracefully on it in one go. The corpse now released continued its final journey, drifting away with the river.

If he wasn't retrieved soon, it would be a fine meal for its inhabitants, maybe some wandering bear?

Who knows…

That boy had good chakra control and was quick on his feet, thought Madara as Hashirama looked at him over the shoulder.

Definitely a shinobi.

A fine one, if he were to hazard a guess after what he had just witnessed.

The other boy was looking at him curiously.

"What?" shouted Madara, feeling tense for some reason.

"You do know," Hashirama started cautiously, "that the term is kunoichi, right?"

"WHAT?" repeated Madara, feeling alarmed this time. Kunoichi? He had been beaten by a girl?

A smirk appeared on Hashirama's face. He – she! – looked impossibly smug right now, to Madara's growing annoyance.

"Figures," said Hashirama, the grin now widening. " It's all right, it happens to me all the time and anyway, your secret is safe with me… um…"

The boy's head on the other side was tilted to the side, eyes narrowed as if he was trying to determine whether or not she really was a girl.

Hashirama felt both amused and outraged at the suspicion – if Tobirama had been there, she could have understood him showing reasonable doubt as to who exactly was the girl here, what with her brother's girlish' traits…

"I'm Madara. And there's no secret to be had, I obviously was holding back on you. There's no glory in beating a girl."

"You prat!" cursed Hashirama menacingly as Madara was the one now sporting a boisterous grin.

"Says the one giving her first name to a stranger," retorted Madara provocatively.

"You asked me!" protested the girl, her foot stomping on the ground, hands clenched. " And it's not like I gave you my last name anyway!"

Silence fell between them after her words.

They both knew giving your last name to a stranger was a foolish thing to do by these times: it could sign one's death warrant.

There was currently too much strife and skirmishes going on between various neighbouring clans to give up that kind of information recklessly.

No proper shinobi would ever do that. The fact that nowadays it was drilled even to children at a very young age said it all, really… How bad things were…

"I know," said Madara calmly. "It is the way of a true shinobi."

Hashirama studied him for a few moments.

So, he too was a shinobi.

Her initial suspicion was proven correct.

He hadn't said anything about the dead Hagoromo, so at the very least he wasn't of that clan… Or maybe he was, but didn't care about dead shinobis?

There were people like that in her own clan after all… Or maybe he was waiting for an opportunity to retrieve the body once she was gone.

Unlikely, if battle was really coming in their direction…

She sighed.

She should have left already; she was being really reckless now.

"I need to go, Madara. See you around."

"Yeah… 'later, Hashirama, " said Madara as he watched her leaving, before starting to move himself outside of the clearing.

He didn't know why, but he had the feeling he would see Hashirama again and… part of him was glad for that.

Their temperament was like oil and water but, at the same time, there was a level of appreciation between them that felt natural; talking to her was easy somehow.

Ugh.

A girl.

Unbeknownst to him, Hashirama was arriving at the same conclusion.

With a little more hope though – after all, didn't the boy come to this clearing as well, to do the same thing as her?

Maybe there were others she could relate to.

Maybe.

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Author's note: Aaand cut!

Thank you for taking the time reading the first chapter of Hashirama's journey!

And yes, this gender swap is one of the reason this story will be an AU – I'll try to stick to cannon most of the time, but between this change and a few ideas I want to pump into this story, there's bound to be some divergences down the line… Hope it'll make sense to you when they occur!

I also intend to give space to other characters in this story as well, even though Hashirama will remain its main character and focus.

I'm having a lot of fun writing this story, and I hope you, as readers, had as much fun discovering it!

See you next time.