Konoha's Weasel Prince

Summary: Itachi never got to use his Susanoo in his fight with Sasuke. As soon as the Kirin hit, he was sent back through time to the founder's era and it was up to him to ensure a safer and surer future for Konoha and the world at large. KisaIta TobiMada HashiMito others mentioned

Itachi's prediction was, of course, true, and by the end of that week, Hashirama and Butsuma had to leave to lead a platoon towards a new battlefield where an Uchiha platoon had been spotted by some of their scouts. And for the first time since that day at the river, when he was forced to watch his best friend turn his back to him, Senju Hashirama was reluctant to leave the Senju encampment.

Usually, he'd be almost hyper to go out on the battlefield, where he knew his friend would be and where he could see him and try to talk some sense into him again. They had shared a dream, a beautiful fantasy Hashirama still believed they could make into a reality if they joined forces, so he never hesitated to go out and face the terror for the rest of his clansmen, to clash swords and mutter words so only his friend would hear, their hushed conversations - one-sided as they might most often be - hidden under the clash of other swords and weapons, explosions and jutsus and shouts that rang across the battlefield. Whatever injury he might sustain in the fight, he always considered it worth it in the end if he managed to utter even one word to his friend, something Tobirama called him an idiot for. He was often even the first one to rush out of their encampment when he heard there was a potential skirmish with the Uchiha Clan about to happen.

But not this time.

This time, he hesitated.

This time, he had something that held him back.

This time, Itachi was here and Hashirama did not wish to leave the younger man behind.

Itachi was all Hashirama could have prayed for, had prayed for for years on end, especially since that day at the river. The young man was strong willed, determined, had a strong moral compass, was soft-spoken, had not a trace of arrogance to him, was wise beyond his years despite trying to hide it under his humble demeanor and, most of all, he wanted peace. The boy - for even Hashirama could not refrain from thinking of him as such, despite knowing he was a shinobi and had as such probably left boyhood a long time ago - had with his mere presence brought about the closest to peace any of the Senju had ever felt and Hashirama knew that if Itachi ever spoke of peace to his clansmen, they would seriously consider it. Despite what one Senju Butsuma liked to believe, their kin were tired of war and their lives and the lives of their loved ones were more important to them than the deaths of the loved ones they have already lost. They wanted to live for more than just revenge. They just didn't dare speak against Butsuma and the Council of Elders that completely supported his campaign against the Uchiha.

But Itachi might change that. The boy had a sort of charm to him that drew people in and he easily earned their loyalty. He was neutral, belonging to neither the Uchiha nor to the Senju. He was new to this pointless war of theirs and his eyes might see a solution none of them could find yet. Maybe, if they are lucky, Itachi will be just what they need to stop this cycle of bloodshed. Hashirama wanted to hold on to this kindred soul, to never let Itachi go, never move too far away from his side, where he would be unprotected and vulnerable. Butsuma still very much vied for Itachi's execution and most of the Elders agreed with him, but they knew never to cross Hashirama again on the matter of his patients. They wouldn't dare attack Itachi and Hashirama had no doubt that Itachi was a decently strong ninja to have made it to the age of twenty one with no scar on his body, as he had discovered when the boy was brought in by Tobirama and Toka into the hospital. Mito was right. He was strong.

But Hashirama still worried. Itachi had been extremely sick not that long ago and for a very long time from the looks of it. He could have a relapse and all the Elders would have to do was order everyone else to stay away from him until Hashirama, his official healer, came back, which could be too late for Itachi. And Hashirama knew he couldn't take Itachi out on the battlefield with them, either. Butsuma or one of his men that had taken a disliking towards Itachi would just kill him and claim that it had been in the heat of battle because he resembled an Uchiha a bit too much, something not even Hashirama could deny. And with his chakra sealed almost completely, Itachi would be a sitting duck, vulnerable and an easy target half of their party would not bother to protect. A liability, they would say.

Hashirama couldn't allow himself to lose Itahci, possibly the only alley that might help him get his friend back to believing in peace and in their dream.

And what a dream it was. They had thought it up together while they rested after one sparring or training session or another, a secret, hidden village deep in the forest, isolated from any outside forces that might wish them ill, shrouded in peace and harmony and happiness with no war in sight. It would have been like a piece of heave on Earth, where kids didn't have to go out and die meaninglessly on a battlefield for stupid reasons and the adults' insufferable pride and would instead grow up learning shinobi skill in peace, finally actually growing to the age to taste sake and other pleasures of adulthood. They even thought to bring in civilians into their little shinobi village who they would protect in exchange for their products and everyone would be happy and Hashirama would be at peace with his last remaining younger brother and his best friend at his side.

But Butsuma had burst that dream bubble by revealing the identity of his friend and ordering Hashirama to betray him, only for his friend's father to think up the same plan on the same day.

For Hashirama's treasured friend was an Uchiha.

And he was not just any Uchiha.

Hashirama felt his breath hitch as he left the encampment with a bid for Mito to look after Itachi and to take care of herself before taking off with his brother, father, cousin and a few other relatives he was not even sure how he was related to, heading for he battlefield at incredible speeds, not pausing for a second as he thought of his friend. His friend, the terror for the Senju, the monster their women told their children about with his devil's eyes and wild mane of shadows for hair, skin pale as death and chakra hotter than hell's fires, larger than a mountain and stronger than any natural force. His friend, whose speed left even his own clansmen with their Sharingan baffled most of the time, whose swordsmanship had cut down so much of his kin, whose fire left unspeakable carnage in his wake, whose strength shook the earth. His friend, whom only Hashirama could fight and survive and only just barely at that.

His friend, who is called the Devil-spawn of the Uchiha Clan, their heir and future Clan Head, the strongest Uchiha to be born yet.

His friend, the widely feared and known Uchiha Madara.

Hashirama remembered Madara as a kid as he reached the battlefield, hearing the other's cry of battle on the other side of the war zone. He remembered all the jokes and the good times as they rushed at each other, their long hair trailing after them like capes. He remembered their sparring sessions, remembered the stone-skipping days, the good natured teasing, the familiarity as their blades clashed in an already familiar dance. He remembered their vows to protect their baby brothers, the last of a larger 'litter' for the lack of a better word. Madara had lost a many as Hahsirama had once had, both now only having one, Uchiha Izuna and Senju Tobirama, the two bitter rivals. They would both do anything for their brothers, even going as far as to continue this stupid war despite wanting the exact opposite thing. And yet, even as they pushed against each other, all Hashirama could remember was Madara's pain as he ended their friendship, activating his Sharingan as he said goodbye to Hashirama as a friend for the last time.

It was for this reason that Hashirama could not let Itachi slip through his fingers. Itachi, despite wanting a thing as impossible as Hashirama, was not a dreamer. He was not stuck in a fantasy like Hashirama knew he honestly was, most of the time. Itachi could see the reality of the world and still cling on to a wish, a dream as impossible as peace and that is perhaps what Hashirama needs to bridge himself across to Madara, the practical one of the two friends, again. Itachi would find a way for them to talk again, Hashirama was sure. He just needed to make a chance for Itachi to meet Madara and let the boy work his magic, let Madara come to know the peace that the Senju had learned with just two weeks of Itachi's presence in their compound.

One chance, that was all Hashirama wanted, all Itachi needed, to change all of this.

But Hashirama needed to make that one chance and that wasn't going to be easy, not with the way Madara still fought against their dream, negating ever being so foolish, denying being so childish. And that hurt. Hurt more than words could describe. Or at least Hashirama lacked the words to describe it. He, despite how much he talked and always somehow finding the words to encourage his clansmen, was not a wordy man. Yes, he could think up a speech on the spot and inspire people to follow him, but he was actually not big on words. He needed more words and a lot of gestures to get his point across while Madara had always been the one who could speak just a simple, short sentence and say exactly what he wanted and needed to say. Hashirama knew that the Uchiha still fought as fiercely as they did only because Madara's words spurred them on. Hashirama had no doubt that if Madara stopped fighting, the Uchiha will, too, no matter what Uchiha Tajima yelled at them. Madara can inspire the same amount of loyalty with just a few curt words that Hashirama needs a whole speech for.

They complimented each other very well and Hashirama knew he and Madara would make wonderful leaders for the village they would like to build. But before they could build the village, they needed to settle the old grievances between their clans and, for that, Hashirama knew they would need Itachi. The older Senju would even go as far as to wish that Itachi were actually an Uchiha so that his staying with the Sejuu could be seen as a form of trust that the Senju would extend to the Uchiha, letting the 'enemy' stay with them and play with their children. It would have been helpful but Hashirama, and every other Senju for that matter, doubted Itachi had any connection with the Uchiha more and more each and every day. Never once in the two weeks that Itachi had stayed with them had he displayed any Uchiha-like mannerisms.

Itachi was actually a mystery the entirety of the Senju Clan was throughly fascinated by, one they would all very much like to solve. Itachi's life story quickly spread among his kinsmen, either from hearing it from Itachi himself when he had been telling it to Hashirama the first day he had been released from the hospital or from the rumors those who had overheard have spread. Mito and Toka, when he told them later, could not find a fault in the story, nothing seeming wrong or faked. Tobirama had looked intrigued but Hashirama doubted that had been the first time he had heard the story and not just because a clan member might have told him. Hashirama had known Tobirama would follow silently after them that day but he had not called him out on it, silently wondering if Itachi knew they were being watched at all. The younger man had been calm and cool throughout the tour but that wasn't really much to judge on. They were shinobi. All of them could mask their emotions when needed. Only some better than others.

But another of the mysteries surrounding Itachi centered around the man's eyes. If they had not already discarded the suspicion that he might be an Uchiha, Hashirama would have thought that Itachi was watching them all with a pair of Sharingan eyes, because the boy noticed even the smallest of changes in a person's expression or behavior. Hashirama and Tobirama had had front row seats to this particular mystery taking place, when a merchant they were usually dealing with tried to sell them lesser products for more money. They wouldn't have even noticed something was wrong had Itachi not walked over to the cart, rummaged through the merchandise a little and came up with a bunch of rotten tomatoes, worm infested apples, moldy carrots and bacteria filled meet. When later asked, Itachi had said that the man looked nervous and anxious to sell, going as far as praising his merchandise more than a normal, well-dealing merchant would. Saying that all the best had especially been selected for his best customers and that he would even give it to them at a lesser price than it was supposedly on the market (also a lie) had alerted Itachi to how much bogus the man was saying and he had studied him a bit better, said he was sweating and that he kept shooting nervous glances at the cart, probably hoping he'll get his money and disappear before the worms climb to the surface for all to see. Itachi had saved them from a lot of food poisoning that day. Itachi seemed to see through everything, nothing could be hidden from him, almost like the Hyuuga and their rumored Byakugan being able to see through all surfeces.

Only Itachi saw way beyond the surface, especially when it came to people. Toka had questioned him on this ability and he had answered that it was something all ninja should learn to do as soon as possible, to 'see underneath the underneath'. Hashirama liked how that sounded and he had to admit it would be a useful skill, especially in their line of work. To see someone's motives and understand why they are doing or not doing something would make their jobs a lot easier.

It would also help him convince Madara to fight for peace once again. If he knew what worries Madara harbored, then he could address them and make it so that nothing was holding his childhood friend back from following their dream instead of continuing this war.

With this new determination to finish the war as soon as possible by peaceful means, Hashirama twisted hos katana a little so that their blades would slide lower, making them come closer in order to properly push against each other. Their guards were almost griding against each other and their noses were all but touching in an Eskimo kiss. Madara glared at him, adjusting his grip, eyes flashing in annoyance but Madara never once activated his Sharingan. Half of the Senju Clan would have felt relieved and the other half would have been insulted if an Uchiha didn't fight them with their Sharingan as they would have deciphered it as the Uchiha not taking them seriously and insulting them. For the others, it might be true but for Hashirama snd Madara ... For them it was different. If anything, it was a show of trust and respect. Besides, Hashirama knew Madara liked taijutsu and sword fights the best. He only used his Sharingan if he was fighting more than a dozen opponents and that was only if they were higher ranking shinobi. Madara rarely used his Sharingan against Hashirama, probably because of their long history and their year-long friendship. Madara trusted Hashirsma, even if he denied it.

"Madara," the brunet of the friend/rivals said like he had many other times in duch fights. "We should stop this nonsense! Don't you remember our dream? The peace and the settlement where we can make sure no more children die in stupid wars? You can't have forgotten it!" He saw his friend's jaw tighten and his eyes narrow in something other than extended effort as they pushed against each other. Madara was displeased. It would seem another effort of his has taken a dangerous nosedive towards failure but Hashirama was not yet ready to abandon ship. "We are not the only ones who think like this! We are not the only ones who wants the war to stop! There are others who wish for the fighting to end! If we can already gather some sure support, Madara, then we can end this!"

For a long moment, the other said nothing, half of his face obscured by his long bangs in the style he liked the most. Madara, unlike all the other Uchihas, never cut his hair and it was as wild as his temper, longer and thicker than even Hashirama's was. He never kept his hair out of his face, despite it obscuring one eye most of the time. It didn't matter to him. Madara was the strongest Uchiha in every sense so he very rarely used his Sharingan for something as simple and as silly as genjutsu or copying techniques - he was a genius anyway, so he didn't need much time to learn new things either way. And when he did use the Sharingan for his strongest move, it did not matter if both of his eyes were visible. Overall, his wild appearance made him intimidating as well as very handsome. Not even the Senju could deny that their worst nightmare was packed up in a very beautiful package. Hashirama had even heard a few women commenting on what a shame it was that Madara was a 'vile Uchiha' more than once.

His friend's silence was usually the only answer he ever got to his speeches, so Hashirama wasn't expecting much this time, either. He usually just brushed it off and continued talking until he annoyed or angered Madara enough for the other to jump away and send a deceptively weak katon jutsu his way. The lack of the usual strength behind the jutsu always gave Hashirama a new hope that his friend might reconsider but the battles usually ended with Madara outright ignoring everything he had said.

To receive an answer this time was quite the surprise.

"I will not fight against my clan, Hashirama." Madara finally replied, a flat look in his eyes, hiding all emotion. Hashirama, hearing Itachi's wise words in his ears even as he stared at his friend and as doubts started clouding his judgment, did what Itachi had recommended and tried looking underneath that flimsy layer of emotionlessness in search of a more truthful - and more hopeful, on his own behalf - answer. He cursed himself for not being the best in reading emotions although part of why he couldn't read Madara's was because of the man himself. Madara knew how to keep a stoic face. "No matter what I believe, I will not betray my clan."

The Senju answered without much thought. "You don't need to betray your clan! We can come to an understanding! The Senju are tired of war and I know the Uchiha must be, too! We're all just too stubborn or too prideful to stop! It's the older generations that are holding the younger back!"

"Then what do you suggest?!" The Uchiha shouted back, his anger - at Hashirama for stating the obvious, at his clan members for it being the truth, at the Senju for being the same, at himself for finally admitting he would still love to fight for their dream, Hashirama could not tell but Madara was most definitely angry - giving him a boost of adrenaline that allowed him to push harder, making Hashirama slide a couple of paces back despite his best efforts to hold his ground. "What do you want me to do!? Kill my own Elders?! I would never do such a thing!"

"I'm not asking you to!" The brunet yelled back, becoming aware of their respective younger brothers suddenly fighting nearby, their struggle against each other almost as legendary as his and Madara's. They must have heard them yelling and Tobirama and Izuna had both run to help their own big brother, only to realize they had made the same plan and to instead attack each other so the other couldn't interfere. "We would achieve nothing but more war for such a deed!" Hashirama returned his focus on their fight, only to see Madara's eyes had turned the bloody red color of the Sharingan, an automatic response to seeing his little brother fighting. Izuna was currently Madara's whole world and Madara would be ready to jump in front of a sword for the younger man. Hashirama would for Tobirama, too, except he didn't have Madara's speed or the ability to read movements like Madara could due to his Sharingan so he never knew if he'd make it in time or not.

"Then what do you bloody want, Senju!?" Madara roared, pushing harder again but Hashirama was ready this time and wouldn't slide back. "What do you suggest!?"

"The Senju have been just as stubborn, convinced they want war and to avenge their fallen comrades." The brunet replied, never breaking their sword standstill. "But they changed their minds, the majority of them, in just two weeks! If asked now, they would be for a ceasefire, for peace!"

Madara blinked at him unbelievingly. "H-how? What changed?"

"We got a glimpse of what real peace might be like, Madara." Hashirama told his friend earnestly. He needed for Madara to hear him out now that he had finally stopped to listen. This was the longest conversation they have had since that day at the river. Hashirama was not going to mess this up. "All we need to do now is show that same serenity to the Uchiha and let the majority decide. Not even the Elders can go against the entire clan!"

"What changed?" It was a demand this time, not a question. Hashirama got the first glimpse of emotion flash through those deadly eyes and what he saw made him want to cry in joy. There was envy but also a sort of ... desperation there, in those dangerous Sharingan eyes. Madara still wanted peace. The hope that was buried underneath ... Hashirama will have to hug the life out of Itachi for saying those words to him only a handful of days ago. Looking underneath the underneath ... It may just change the course of this war.

"We found a stranger on our lands and took him in." Hashirama told his friend eagerly. If he could just convince Madara to meet with him at their old spot and introduce him to Itachi ... "He brought with him a sense of peace. Our children are happy, our adults are content and no one has spoken a single curse since they started talking with him. The call to rise to arms today has come as a surprise, despite our last battle being less than a month ago. Please, Madara. You must meet this boy! You must meet Itachi!"

Before Madara could answer or even ponder on it, a sharp cry of pain came from their left and Hashirama felt his blood drain from his face and his heart stop. He knew that cry! He knew that voice! No, Kami-sama, it can't be! He almost didn't dare look. Because that could only be-

"TOBIRAMA!"