Obito-Sensei Chapter 76

Can Agree On The Problem, But Not The Solution

For the duration of the discussion, Obito managed to hold his peace. Both his masters had come to speak to the dead, but having already interrogated Madara the first time around he had little interest in repeating the process. In the same vein, he didn't think it was his place to interrupt either of them, though he was challenged several times. And so, sitting on a chair on the nearby wall, he witnessed the whole thing as a neutral observer, and took what he heard and what he learned for himself and, eventually, his team.

###

"It's an abomination," Jiraiya said, and Madara scoffed. When introductions had finished, Minato had raised the question of the Infinite Tsukuyomi for his master's benefit, and Madara had been content to reiterate it, perhaps hoping for a receptive audience.

He hadn't gotten one.

"You're right," Madara rasped, the deep shadows of the room hiding his lost eyes. "Better to let them die on their own."

"It's a choice, at least," Minato said mildly, and the dead man laughed.

"Choice reigns supreme, it seems. Why parent, when you would deny a child their freedom?" he said, his hands shivering against his knees as he leaned forward. "Jiraiya, you resort to language like 'abomination' because there is no moral argument against it, so you must make a judgmental one. It was the Sage's intent; why else would he have left the instructions behind? The Bijuu that he created became forces of destruction, and so he also created a means of uniting their power in mankind's interest once more." A cold sneer on cracked lips. "Could you question his benevolence?"

"If it was the Sage's intent, he must have been going senile," Jiraiya said dismissively. "Ninshu was the art of communication and understanding. Isolating everyone into their own private fantasies goes directly against it."

"He realized his mistake," Madara said. "Ninshu was a failed experiment. The Infinite Tsukuyomi is the ultimate expression of its core desire; ending pain. Human beings cannot coexist without causing agony. They are not made for it; no amount of understanding or communication will fix that." He leaned back, the chair creaking. "I have already unwittingly passed on my Will, and warned my clan of the consequences. My part in this is done; if you wish to disagree with me, feel free, but it won't change reality." One bony finger pointed upwards. "Surely the strife above was proof of that."

"This war was caused by poor communication," Minato said, always stolid and solid. He was sitting cross-legged, and leaned forward, propping his chin in both hands as his golden eyes gleamed in the low light. "The Nation of Rain attacked out of fear of what Konoha might do in the future; a paranoia that could have been gutted if they had not assumed the worst. It seems to me the exact sort of situation Ninshu was created to prevent."

"Attacked because they were attacked in turn, and nearly destroyed," Madara wheezed, his perpetual sneer not fading. "Was that attack a misfortune of timing? A misunderstanding?"

Minato paused.

"No," he eventually decided. "It was the start of a land grab. Nothing more."

"People who desire more will always exist," Madara said, sounding satisfied. "And such people spread hatred with every breath; they yearn for what they don't have, and so they take it. However, they cannot be stamped out without also stamping out the freedom of choice you have shackled yourself too. When that desire takes hold, it blinds all other considerations." He laughed. "Who better to know than I?"

"That still doesn't justify it," Jiraiya groused, and Madara shrugged.

"I don't care," he said. "I'm long dead. You won't change my mind, nor I yours. If that bothers you, consider introspection. Or killing yourself, so that you too can be eternally set in your ways."

"You-" Jiraiya clenched a fist, and then released it and his anger in the same moment. "There's no panacea to the world's ills," he said after a deep breath, words that caused Minato to shift. "We didn't come here to find one." Another deep breath, and then he went on. "The Uzumaki whose eyes you ripped out, Nagato. I ended up training him."

"Was that his name?" Madara mused, and Jiraiya ground his teeth. Madara had known the name; the ignorance was a malicious act. "Appropriate. What does it matter?"

"You know he now leads the Nation of Rain," Jiraiya continued. "The Rinnegan is a mystery, one that only you have unlocked. I want to know what Nagato could do with it."

"To kill him?" Madara asked, and Jiraiya shook his head, and then spoke when he remembered the man was blind.

"To save him." Jiraiya tapped his fingers against his knee, an anxious beat. "He's been dragged into this war by his bastard friend. I have no doubt something like this was the farthest from his mind. If Nagato can be made to see reason, the war will end. But to make him see that, I need to know exactly what he's capable of."

"Anything and everything."

"How poetic."

"I have never tried my hand at poetry," Madara said. "Perhaps that would have evened out my life. Regardless, I do not exaggerate. The Rinnegan contains endless knowledge and potential; one looking through those eyes sees an entirely different world, and techniques and possibilities pour into them at every moment. Even though I was frail, worthless, when I manifested it, I immediately understood many of its powers: the manipulation of the soul, how to absorb and digest any manner of chakra, control over gravity and fundamental mass, even the resurrection of the dead. It was on that potential that I built my plans."

"Nagato can bring back the dead?" Minato asked, and Madara nodded.

"Through a deadly exchange," he confirmed. "The Rinne Tensei requires the body to be present, though not intact, and the soul willing to return. I wouldn't worry about your enemies being brought back, Hokage; it is a weighing of lives. A hole is torn open, and life pours though: one for as many as the Rinnegan's master can reach. I doubt that for the Nation of Rain, any number of their ninja would be worth that one man's."

"There's more," Jiraiya said, his voice low. "You're holding out on us."

"There is one more," Madara admitted. "The eyes themselves have a contract built into them."

"A summoning contract?"

"With the corpse of the Jūbi." A sick smile. "Withered and stored in some uncountably distant place, but intact, and hungry for chakra. It is the key to the Infinite Tsukuyomi; perhaps the only vessel in existence that could survive the convergence of the Tailed Beast's chakra."

"Fascinating," Jiraiya said. "But I doubt Nagato cares about that."

"You have no means of negotiating with such a man," Madara said. "I tasted the Rinnegan's power only briefly, and it overwhelmed even me. One bearing those eyes is closer to a god than any ninja could dream to be. If you intend to drag him out of this conflict, you will have to rely on human weakness."

"You really are a cold bastard, huh?" Jiraiya said. The corpse feebly shrugged.

"You came here in futility, wishing for answers I do not have," he said. "Or perhaps just for the novelty of it? It matters not. If the Rinnegan is your enemy, you face an impossibly deadly task. Even Hashirama would have been hard pressed to defeat me if I'd possessed its power at our confrontation."

"Why did you do it?" Minato asked, not speaking suddenly yet nonetheless surprising both men. Jiraiya turned to him, and Madara went still.

"Why?" he rasped, and Minato continued.

"You built the Hidden Leaf with the Shodai," he said, his tone respectful and earnestly curious. "And yet, you turned on it so quickly. Did it end up not being what you'd pictured?"

"Is that why you came here, Hokage?" Madara asked. "To pick at the past, assuage your curiosity?"

"Yeah," Minato said. "That, and some other stuff."

"Then what do the stories say?" Madara said, so sure that there were stories.

"That it was jealousy, or madness. Perhaps both."

"Both would be correct enough. Hashirama accepted and respected me; his brother and clan did not. They feared the Uchiha who had inflicted so many wounds on them, and rightfully so." Madara scratched feebly at his chin, some of his paper like skin coming away under his long nails. "Half the clan is dead, I was told."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Driven by my shadow."

"So it seems."

"What was Itachi's motive?"

"The Uchiha were planning a coup. He disagreed."

"To replace you?"

"So it seemed."

"Then it was as I predicted," Madara said. "The Uchiha were slowly expunged from the workings of the village, left to linger and rot while Konoha grew stronger."

"They were not." Minato shook his head. "They were given the responsibilities of the military police by Tobirama, the Second Hokage."

"Oh, yes," Madara scoffed. "Everyone adores the police. Especially shinobi."

"It's a fair point, but not one I agree with," Minato said. "The Uchiha are respected. I have forgiven their treason, though it never coming to pass helped. There are those who mistrust them, just as there are some who mistrust all the clans. But much of that mistrust would be due to you, Madara. Your abandoning of the village was bad enough; returning to attack it only added fuel to the fire."

At that, Madara did not have an immediate response, and so Minato continued. "So you left because you perceived the unity of the village as a sham."

"Yes, but that was not all. It was a failed experiment." That seemed to wake Madara up. "Just like Ninshu. Hashirama and I had brought so many ninja together in the hope of creating peace, but it wasn't to be. Even in cooperation, there was strife; politics, fearmongering, conspiracy. The clans, mine included, competed for power and influence, and though none doubted that Hashirama should be the first Hokage…" The sneer returned. "It was who would be the second that everyone had their eye on. How cruel, considering that Tobirama doubtlessly seized it without room for discussion when Hashirama passed."

"You consider that sort of thing strife?" Minato asked.

"It was more than that," Madara said. "We dreamed of a place where shinobi could come together, and the folly of our youth would not be repeated. But in executing that dream, we doomed it. The Hidden Leaf was too successful; it changed the world. More villages appeared in other countries; the governments of the land and the shinobi that wandered it realized that in the face of our strength, they would be dominated: they had no choice but to cooperate." The word came out like a slur. "Our dream of safety was ruined, corrupted. It became just another way to organize shinobi in their slaughter of one another, to spread their violence and cruelty across the world without end. And all the worse, now it was not just clans who suffered, but whole nations."

"So you thought that even if Konoha had ended one problem, it had caused a worse one?" Minato confirmed, and when Madara nodded he continued. "But the Uchiha and Senju made peace. You couldn't be content with that victory?"

"'These opposing two acting together obtain all things in creation,'" Madara quoted. "The Sage wrote that, speaking of light and the shadows it casts. He meant people too. All human interactions force change, and change is violence. To communicate with others is to influence them; whether it's love or hate, we all try to bend those important to us into more pleasant shapes, distorting them for our comfort."

As Minato considered Madara's strange answer, Jiraiya made a soft, understanding sound, and then chuckled.

"I get it now," he said. "You're a perfectionist."

"Excuse me?" From the corpse's mouth, the polite words were a curse.

"You could have been patient," Jiraiya said, standing up and pacing. "But that's not your style, is it? If you'd stayed with the village, you would have been a part of something that was working, but not working well enough or fast enough. You and Hashirama created Konoha to end conflict between ninja, so why was it still happening?"

"You are not as clever as you think," Madara said, but Jiraiya didn't miss a step.

"So you read your old rock, and there was your panacea," he continued, flinging out the word. "A grand and majestic illusion, a perfect world for everyone to faff around in for all eternity. No strife, no conflict; just a universe ending nap. That must have really appealed to you." He snapped his fingers. "Why didn't you just kill everyone instead? Wouldn't it be the same in the end? The Pure World exists. You're proof of that right now!"

"It would have been too slow," Madara spat, and Jiraiya laughed.

"You let a perfect that doesn't exist get in the way of an absolutely acceptable good," he said, unable to hold back his chuckling. "And to think, so many people have just chocked it up to insanity! It was much worse than that!"

"Your insults have no hold on me," Madara said with a sick grin. "I died alone and a failure; I'm all too aware of my imperfections. But you, Sage, you're the one who created a whole nation of deluded fanatics with your childish fantasies."

Jiraiya's chuckle died, and Madara leered at him. "Don't think that Orochimaru spent all of his time digging out my secrets. He confided in me, thinking me senile and helpless. I've heard both of your names many times; his hatred for you runs deeper than any malice I held in my long life. And you were comrades! What pathetic things must you have done to draw his ire so?"

"What did we do?" Jiraiya asked, quite genuinely. "I never… well, Orochimaru and I never agreed on everything, but I thought we were at least friends."

"You did nothing," Madara said, so self-satisfied. "He is just another greedy man unable to accept others being above him. A taker, a yearner, an expression of petty jealousies and rampant ego. What could you have done to satisfy him? Lie down and die; live a life without meaning, purpose, accomplishment, joy, sorrow. Exist in a void against which he could not compare a single part of himself to you and come up lacking, lest that fire boil up inside him and scour his heart with hatred."

"That's not what I was hoping to hear."

"Oh?" Madara said. "Were you looking for an easy solution?"

Struck silent by the ancient man's accurate venom, Jiraiya withdrew into himself. The Hokage took up his torch.

"We're not concerned with Orochimaru," Minato said. "But I do appreciate your candor."

"There's no need to be so polite, Hokage," Madara chuckled. "I would not be in your position."

"And that means you deserve cruelty?" Minato said, and Madara paused.

"How many did you kill yesterday?" he asked. Minato took a moment to think about it.

"Why do you ask?" he said after his contemplation.

"What is rudeness as a cruelty compared to taking lives?" Madara said. "We are both strong. We both know how easy it is. I can feel it."

"You can feel it?"

"You are unmoving when you don't speak." Madara shifted. "You are in Sage Mode, even now, prepared to defend your village. Only powerful ninja can control such a thing. Ninja like Hashirama."

"You're still sharp, despite your age," Minato said, leaning back. "That's really impressive. I hope I'm half as put together when my time comes."

"If you intend to be polite, don't ignore the question," Madara said, but a sneer didn't rip across his face.

"Killing is a cruelty without compare," Minato said. "You're right about that. Anything else can be recovered from, given time and care. But when you kill someone, you've wiped out everything they were and everything they could ever be. I don't do it lightly, and when I have to, I try to make it quick and painless."

"So?"

"So just because I am forced to be cruel sometimes, that means I should choose to be cruel all the time?" Minato asked rhetorically with a shake of his head. "Is that how you felt, Madara? It must have been painful to tear away your humanity like that. Or was it just in your nature to not consider other people around you? With the way you talk about relationships, I wouldn't be surprised."

Now it was Madara who had been struck silent, and Jiraiya who was perking up.

"You are a dangerous man," Madara eventually decided.

"I suppose I should thank you?" Minato said with a gentle grin, and Madara shook his head.

"You understand the gravity of what you do," he said, his voice even more hoarse than usual. "Most people are unthinking and unknowing, or intentionally close their eyes to the world when they are forced to act. But you move with eyes wide open, Hokage. You kill without blinking or turning away. You are like me."

"I wouldn't necessarily agree with that," Minato said. "I'm a preserver; you're a destroyer. Perhaps we are the same in that we're both skilled at what we do."

"You?" Madara laughed. "A preserver? Shinobi cannot preserve; they can destroy in the name of preventing change, but that is not the same thing."

"What would you call your Infinite Tsukuyomi then?"

"An armistice."

"Hmm." Minato scratched his chin. "I can accept that."

For a time it was quiet, and all wondered if the words that had needed to be spoken had already passed. But Madara had a question of his own, and he voiced it before any could shift and rise to leave.

"I heard a great roar," he said. "There was a Tailed Beast unleashed within the village. It did not sound like the Kyuubi. Rain possesses them?"

"A couple," Minato said carelessly, obviously not at all concerned about a man who could not even walk trying to hunt down the Bijuu. "They released the Sanbi into the village. It caused plenty of chaos, but it's contained now."

"In a shinobi? A new Jinchuriki?"

"No."

"What will you do with it, then?" Madara hacked out a laugh. "Gift it to one of your warriors, I'm sure."

"Probably not," Minato said, and Madara paused.

"Destroy it, then."

"We'll probably give it back to the Hidden Mist," the Hokage said, carefully watching the corpse. "To broker an alliance. They are already fighting the Hidden Cloud, and will need its power; giving them a gift like this will make them accept us as allies all the easier."

Madara gaped like a fish for some time, and then slowly slumped in his chair.

"I was wrong," he eventually muttered. "You are not like me."

"Oh?"

"You are a fool," Madara spat.

"Please," Jiraiya scoffed. "It's a perfectly acceptable move. A whole village is a hell of a lot better than a single big turtle, no matter how strong it is."

"You're just repeating Hashirama's mistakes," Madara said, ignoring Jiraiya, who looked incredibly offended. "Attempting to use such creatures as tools of peace is doomed to failure."

"I wouldn't call Hashirama's decision a mistake," Minato said mildly. "Handing the Bijuu out like he did kept the villages from directly attacking each other. It reduced civilian casualties massively by forcing ninjas to fight away from their homes, even if some of that burden fell onto the border states."

"Until now," Madara said, and after a moment Minato nodded. "It was a temporary state of affairs," the corpse rambled on. "Built by fear and uncertainty. By now, ninja understand the limits of Jinchuriki, and Cloud has surpassed them with their new weapon. Hand the Sanbi to Mist, and your children will regret it when they release it in Konoha for a second time a generation from now."

"Mist is in no position to challenge the Leaf, even after what's happened," Minato said, his voice growing colder. "There's little chance they will be in the future. Securing their aid against Cloud is almost certainly the better option, even if the long term danger exists."

"Why work by coalition?" Madara said, ancient fire burning in his words. "Why build alliances when you know they will disappoint you? You are strong, Hokage. You possess multiple Tailed Beasts. Set your terms. Build the world of your dreams, not one populated by weak vassals and simpering slaves."

"No one can rule alone," Minato said, his words like a knife. "Taking on the world is all well and good, but it leaves you as the sole target. The recipient of every grudge, every hatred. Konoha could not survive that."

"You don't know that," Madara rasped. "You say it with conviction, but no knowledge. Compared to the blood you've stained your soul with, it is pitifully hollow." His voice raised, his hands digging into his knees. "You've shackled your ambition to a phantom; you've enslaved yourself to false words. It was better when shinobi were free from empty duties."

"The words of a man who died alone, his ambitions unrealized," Minato said, slowly standing up. "I've made Konoha the strongest village in the world, Madara." Jiraiya was staring at him, seeing a whole new side to his student. "Even now, after this betrayal, we are at the top. I've done it my way; patiently, quietly. I killed when I had to, but did not use slaughter to cement our position. I chose not to place the village atop a mountain of bodies. When we win this war, the world will see exactly how strong my way is. At that point, they'll have no choice but to accept it; then, I won't let anything like this happen ever again."

Madara looked up at Minato with empty eyes, his face twisted in an expression dangerously close to pity.

"Minato Namikaze," he said, his voice low, carefully articulating every word. "All things come to ruin. I am proof of that."

Minato narrowed his eyes as Madara continued. "Time and toil reduces everything to dust. You refuse to embrace eternity: if such a thing is too dreadful for you, incarnate destruction. Become ruin, Yondaime."

Minato laughed. "Like you?" he said, obviously amused. "Would you like me to take up your torch, Madara? I thought you said your part in this story was done."

Madara paused. "I understand you now," he said. "It would have been better if we could have met in battle, but this talk has enlightened me. You could be the one, Minato. You have strength, and more importantly, clarity. However, there's one critical flaw."

"And what's that?" the Hokage asked, a little less amused now.

"You," Madara said bluntly. "You, despite your overwhelming position, have decided to fetter your violence. Now the only one keeping you from realizing your dreams is yourself."

Minato didn't have a clever comeback to that. He stood there staring at Madara for several seconds, and a silence deeper and darker than the shadows settled over the room.

"You are afraid of your power," Madara eventually said as the Hokage continued to stare at him. Jiraiya was watching his student, warring emotions racing across his face. "You are afraid of being the avalanche that sweeps the world away. If I am the man who threw away what could have worked in search of the perfect solution, you are the one who refuses to sacrifice what isn't working in search of something better." He slumped in his chair; even if the Edo Tensei was immortal, ageless, tireless, Madara was clearly losing vigor, his sharp mind fading from the strain of extended conversation.

"People like you make such sacrifices too easily," Minato whispered, the soft sound still harsh.

"Perhaps," Madara wheezed. "But I think you agree with me. I think I am not the first one to say this."

The silence stretched.

"Are you satisfied?" the corpse asked. "Or is there more wisdom you would pull from me?"

"We're done here," the Hokage said, turning to leave. "Thank you for your time, Madara."

The corpse laughed as Jiraiya and Obito rose as well, following the Hokage out. "Deny me if you'd like," he rasped after them. "We will see what this latest war teaches you, Yondaime. I'll be here, if you think you made a mistake."

His choking laughter followed them up the stairs as they returned to the land of the living.