Hinata: Byakurenden
Naruto vs Hashirama
"Naruto, you idiot! Get up!" Kurama's booming voice echoed through Naruto's mind, jolting him back into consciousness. It wasn't the gentle nudge of a concerned ally; it was a shout powerful enough to make his ears ring, the kind of scolding Kurama reserved for moments when there was no room for error.
Naruto blinked, his senses slowly returning. As he shook his head to clear the haze, the last thing he remembered surfaced in his mind: the zombified First Hokage grabbing his face with inhuman strength. Then… nothing. Just darkness.
"Wait, what the hell?" Naruto muttered as he glanced around, his words almost lost to the howling desert wind. He squinted against the harsh sunlight, realizing he was no longer in the village. Instead there was a jagged scar stretching from the village's gates to the sand dune where he now sat up.
The destruction was massive. The section of the wall he'd been hurled through was obliterated, its thick sandstone blocks scattered like toy bricks across the dunes. Buildings beyond the wall lay in varying states of ruin—some had collapsed entirely, their shattered remnants forming uneven piles of debris, while others stood partially intact, their jagged edges and broken facades looming like ghostly skeletons of what they once were. The path of destruction carved by Hashirama's attack was unmistakable, a trail of chaos that extended back toward the heart of the village. It was as if the entire area had been caught in a tornado, with everything in its path torn apart by sheer, overwhelming force.
"Get your shit together!" Kurama growled again, his voice tinged with a mixture of urgency and exasperation. Naruto's hand instinctively moved to pick his ear, but he resisted the urge, his attention snapping back to the situation at hand. He had been thrown with enough force to create a path of destruction that spanned hundreds of meters, leaving a trail of crushed stone and churned sand in his wake. The sheer power behind it was staggering. It was no wonder he had blacked out, though it couldn't have been for more than a few seconds.
Stumbling to his feet, Naruto felt the sand shifting under his weight, the fine grains slipping through his sandals and clinging to his clothes. His legs wobbled slightly, the lingering effects of the impact making him feel like he was standing on a boat rocking in stormy seas. The sensation passed quickly enough, and with a sharp shake of his head, he dislodged the sand clinging to his hair. Looking down at his hands, he clenched and unclenched them, testing his fingers and knuckles to ensure everything was in working order. Convinced that he was still in fighting shape, he nodded to himself with a determined grin.
"Alright, time to get back to it!" he declared, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. He reached out with his senses, feeling the dense, almost oppressive natural energy swirling in the air around him. It was unlike anything he had felt before, as if the land itself was responding to the immense power of Hashirama's presence.
"No need to go out of your way. 'It' is coming to you," Kurama muttered, his tone unusually dry. He was rarely this talkative, but there was something in his voice—an edge that Naruto couldn't quite place. Before Naruto could question it, the answer revealed itself.
A figure landed on the rubble of the ruined wall, his form shrouded by a cloud of dust and debris. As the wind carried the particles away, Senju Hashirama came into view, his imposing figure standing tall amidst the destruction. He radiated an aura of power that seemed almost tangible, the weight of his chakra pressing down on the air like a thunderstorm about to break. His sharp, regal features were framed by wild brown hair that seemed to defy gravity, whipping in the wind as if reflecting the untamed force he embodied.
Naruto instinctively tensed, his fists clenching as his eyes narrowed. "That's the guy, huh?" he muttered under his breath, studying the man who was both a legend and a looming threat.
Kurama stirred within the seal, his presence crackling like static electricity. Over the years, he and Naruto had grown close, though the fox would never admit it openly. This bond had given Naruto insight into the history Kurama usually kept buried deep within his memories.
"That's Senju Hashirama," Kurama growled, his tone low and simmering with bitterness. "The so-called God of Shinobi. The one who created the Jinchūriki system with his wife. The one who made me—and the rest of us—tools for the villages."
Naruto felt Kurama's anger rising, the fox's chakra flickering like embers threatening to ignite into flames. "You don't like him much, huh?" Naruto asked, though the answer was already obvious.
"Like him?" Kurama's voice was venomous. "The man was a reincarnation of Asura, but he was nothing like the Asura I knew. That fool turned us into weapons, claiming it was for peace. Asura might have been naïve, but at least he fought for something greater than his own ego. Hashirama… he chained us to villages like pets."
Naruto frowned, sensing the depth of Kurama's resentment. He had heard fragments of this history before—how Hashirama had distributed the tailed beasts among the villages, believing it would maintain balance and prevent war. But hearing it from Kurama's perspective painted a different picture. To the fox, it wasn't balance; it was subjugation.
He processed the information in silence, his gaze never leaving Hashirama. The weight of Kurama's words settled heavily on his shoulders. He wasn't just facing a legend or a reanimated shinobi; he was confronting his predecessor, someone who had once carried the same will that now burned within him. This wasn't just a fight against a powerful opponent—it was a clash of ideals, a battle against someone who had once held the same responsibility and failed to fully realize its promise.
"Not that any of that matters now," Naruto muttered, shaking off the weight of history. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his orange eyes sharp and unyielding. "Right now, he's just an obstacle in my path. Something to be moved."
Kurama huffed in amusement, his voice low but tinged with the bitterness of old wounds. "Simple, as always," he said. "But don't underestimate him. Hashirama's power isn't just a legend—it's real. He was called the God of Shinobi for a reason. And trust me, he's not the type to hold back."
Naruto squared his shoulders, standing tall despite the suffocating weight of Hashirama's chakra pressing down on the battlefield like an invisible storm. The air was heavy with power, each breath thick with the force of the First Hokage's presence. Even standing at a distance, Hashirama's sheer energy rippled through the air, warping the desert winds as though the world itself bent under his will.
Then, to Naruto's surprise, Hashirama threw back his head and laughed—a deep, booming sound that echoed across the desolate landscape. The sheer unexpectedness of it caught Naruto off guard, and he hesitated, his balance shifting awkwardly as he stared up at the First Hokage. It wasn't the laugh of a man preparing for battle, nor the sinister mockery of an enemy. It was genuine, loud, and strangely joyful, a sound that seemed almost alien amidst the devastation surrounding them.
"What's your name, young man?" Hashirama asked, his voice light and disarmingly cheerful. He gestured toward Naruto with an open hand, his other resting casually on his hip. "Can you tell me more about the village? How she's doing? I'd like to hear everything I can, while there's still time."
Naruto blinked, his mind struggling to reconcile the man's carefree demeanor with the overwhelming pressure of his chakra. "Is this guy serious?" he muttered under his breath, his voice low but audible enough to carry through the tension-filled air.
Kurama's low growl rumbled in the back of his mind. "As serious as he's capable of being," the fox replied, his tone laden with years of frustration and bitterness. "That's Asura's influence for you. Naïve, cheerful, and annoyingly optimistic—just like you."
Naruto's eye twitched in irritation. "I'm nothing like this guy," he snapped, though the comparison gnawed at him. He hated how much it made sense. Both of them carried Asura's will, and if this was how Asura had been in his time, then maybe there were more similarities than Naruto cared to admit. Still, he couldn't let that thought distract him now.
Hashirama tilted his head, his sharp, brown eyes studying Naruto with a mixture of curiosity and warmth. His expression, so open and unassuming, belied the raw power radiating from his every movement. The air around him seemed to hum with energy, a constant reminder of the destruction he had already wrought. Even standing still, he was like a force of nature, a storm waiting to be unleashed.
Despite the overwhelming presence Hashirama exuded—like a man who could level mountains without breaking a sweat—there was something strangely calming about him. His relaxed posture and easy smile carried no malice, no overt threat, just a sense of unshakable confidence. It wasn't arrogance, but the quiet assurance of someone who had faced countless battles and emerged victorious time and time again. And that made him even more terrifying. Yet, paradoxically, it also made him approachable, even disarming.
Naruto felt the tension in his shoulders ease ever so slightly. Despite himself, he couldn't help but be drawn to the natural charisma Hashirama radiated. There was a warmth to the man, something that almost made Naruto want to talk to him—not just as an enemy or a legend, but as someone who had once carried the same will and dreams. After all, how often did you get the chance to speak with a former Hokage and a fellow reincarnation of Asura?
"Well, I guess it doesn't hurt to talk a little," Naruto muttered under his breath. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, feeling the smallest flicker of respect bloom within him. Straightening his posture, he grinned, reclaiming control of the moment. "The name's Uzumaki Naruto!" he declared, his voice brimming with pride as he hiked a thumb toward his chest. "And I believe I said it already, but I'm the guy who's gonna be the Sixth Hokage, y'know!"
Hashirama's tentative, hopeful expression softened as he processed Naruto's words. A flicker of curiosity danced in his eyes, growing into something deeper—something warmer. Slowly, the corners of his mouth curved upward, replacing the initial hesitancy with a broad, genuine smile. "Oh, an Uzumaki?" His eyes lit up with unmistakable delight. "And wearing the markings of Konoha too! How wonderful!" He took a step forward, the casual ease of his movement belying the immense pressure of his chakra. "Tell me, how is your clan doing? Have many of them come to live in the village now?"
Naruto tilted his head, frowning slightly as he processed the question. "Clan?" he repeated, racking his brain. He didn't really know much about the Uzumaki beyond what little he had pieced together over the years. Honestly, he'd never given it much thought. Meeting Tayuya and learning about his parents had been enough for him. Anything beyond that felt… distant, like something from a storybook.
Kurama stirred within the seal, his deep voice rumbling. "He's talking about your ancestors, the Uzumaki Clan. They were allies to the Senju during Hashirama's time. His wife, Uzumaki Mito, was the first Jinchuriki to seal me. That's probably why he's asking about them."
Naruto frowned deeply in thought, his mind flickering back to one of the most precious moments of his life—the brief reunion he'd had with his parents' spirits. It had been during Hinata's training pilgrimage when Kurama and Asura had worked together to guide him in unlocking a deeper connection to the seal. By calling upon the lingering traces of their chakra within him, they had allowed Naruto to meet Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina—not just as legendary names but as people.
The memory was vivid, imprinted on his heart. He could still recall how his father had smiled at him, that warm, reassuring grin that made it clear how proud he was. And his mother—her fiery energy, her affectionate teasing, her determination to pour a lifetime of love into the short moments they had together. For the first time, Naruto had felt the unconditional embrace of parents who had sacrificed everything for him.
It had been a whirlwind of emotions: joy, sorrow, and overwhelming gratitude. The words they spoke to him had stayed with him ever since, a source of strength in his darkest moments. His father had told him to believe in himself and protect the village, while his mother had made him promise to eat well, keep warm, and find happiness. Their love, even in death, had shone brighter than anything he'd ever known.
But as much as he cherished that reunion, Naruto realized now that there were gaps in what he'd learned. His mother had mentioned the Uzumaki Clan in passing, describing them as a proud and powerful group known for their sealing techniques. However, her words had been tinged with sadness, and she hadn't gone into detail, except to say they were gone. At the time, Naruto hadn't pressed further. He'd been so caught up in finally connecting with them that the history of his clan had felt like a distant concern.
"Oh, right," Naruto said aloud, rubbing his chin as the memory clicked into place. "Didn't they, like, get wiped out in a war or something?"
The words left his mouth before he could think them through, and the moment they did, he winced internally. Hashirama froze, his expression shifting. The brightness in his eyes dimmed, and his smile faltered. Slowly, he dropped to his knees, his head slumping forward as if the weight of the world had suddenly pressed down on his shoulders. He began fiddling with the broken pebbles scattered across the sand, his demeanor changing entirely.
"Ah, I see…" Hashirama muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Is that so?"
Naruto shifted uncomfortably, guilt creeping in. He hadn't meant to drop that kind of bombshell so casually. But as he watched the once-cheerful Hokage crumble, he was struck by the profound grief that seemed to emanate from the man. For someone who had built so much, the loss of an allied clan—of people he clearly cared about—must have been a heavy blow.
"I—uh, I mean, it's not like I'm completely on my own or anything, y'know!" Naruto hastily stumbled over his words, trying to fix the awkwardness of the situation. "That's right, Tayuya is in the village too! And she's an Uzumaki just like me. Got red hair like my mom and everything. The two of us aren't exactly much of a clan, but she's like a sister to me, so that kinda counts, doesn't it?"
Hashirama's head lifted slightly at Naruto's words, his hands stilling as he processed what he'd just heard. Slowly, as if an invisible weight had been lifted, his broad shoulders relaxed. The earlier heaviness in his expression seemed to dissipate, replaced by a lightness that brightened his entire demeanor. Then, like the sadness had never existed, Hashirama beamed, his smile returning in full force.
"Really?! That's great!" he exclaimed, throwing his head back and letting out a deep, hearty laugh that echoed across the sands. The sheer enthusiasm was so overwhelming that Naruto couldn't help but flinch slightly, caught off guard by the abrupt change in mood.
"Ehhh… what the hell?" Naruto muttered under his breath, his shoulders sagging in exasperation. "This guy is, like, seriously a pain in the ass, y'know."
"That goes for the both of you!" Kurama retorted from within the seal, his tone dry but tinged with a hint of amusement.
Naruto's irritation flared, his mood shifting as quickly as Hashirama's had. "You got something to say, huh?" he snapped, turning his focus inward and shouting into the seal.
Before Kurama could reply, the tension between them broke as Hashirama's laughter finally subsided. He regarded Naruto with a softer, more thoughtful expression, his gaze drifting to the faint spiral seal on Naruto's abdomen. "I thought I sensed it," he murmured, his voice tinged with curiosity. "The Kyūbi no Yōko is with you, isn't it?"
Naruto's body tensed instinctively, his hand moving protectively over his stomach. His sharp eyes narrowed as he studied Hashirama for any hint of danger or judgment. "What if he is?" Naruto replied, his tone edged with defensiveness. "Just so you know, Kurama ain't gonna talk to you, even if you ask. He doesn't exactly like you, if you get what I'm saying."
Hashirama's smile faltered, turning bittersweet. He let out a soft sigh, his expression clouded with a deeper emotion. "No, I doubt he does like me very much," he said, his voice quieter now. "I see… so the fox's name was Kurama. I never knew that about him." He paused, his gaze dropping to the ground. "No wonder he hates me so much."
The weight in his tone shifted, no longer exaggerated or theatrical but genuinely solemn. There was no mistaking the regret that lingered behind his words, a regret that seemed to stem from something much larger than himself. Hashirama's hands rested lightly on his knees as he stared at the sand, his eyes distant, as if lost in memories from a lifetime long gone.
Naruto blinked, the defensiveness in his posture softening slightly as he studied the man before him. For all his larger-than-life power and charisma, Hashirama looked startlingly human in that moment—someone who carried the burden of choices made long ago. For the first time since their encounter began, Naruto saw more than just an obstacle in his path. He saw a man—one who had lived, loved, and lost just like anyone else.
"A-Anyway, you asked about the village, right?" Naruto finally spoke, his voice breaking the silence as he sought to steer the conversation away from the heavy atmosphere. "It's doing just fine, so you really don't gotta worry about anything. Just leave it to me and everyone else… you doing alright?"
About halfway through his sentence, Naruto noticed something shift in Hashirama's body language. The former Hokage had gone rigid, his features losing their earlier warmth. It was subtle at first, but by the time Naruto's words trailed off, the change was unmistakable. The gentle air that had surrounded Hashirama vanished, replaced by a palpable sense of tension. His gaze, once soft and contemplative, grew sharp and focused.
"Oi, Naruto," Kurama growled from within the seal, his voice low and urgent. "Get ready. That Kabuto bastard just reasserted control over the jutsu. The First Hokage is about to come at you with everything he's got."
Naruto barely had time to process the warning before Hashirama lifted his head, his eyes now devoid of their carefree light. Instead, they gleamed with a cold, unrelenting intensity. The air around him grew heavy with killing intent, and for the first time, Naruto truly felt the overwhelming power that had once made this man a legend.
For a brief moment, Naruto thought back to their conversation, strange as it had been. Despite everything, he'd actually enjoyed the brief exchange. Hashirama had been a pain in the ass, sure, but there was something about him that was… inspiring. He could see why so many people had followed him, why he had become the First Hokage. He was an example of what Naruto himself hoped to be one day.
All the more reason why he couldn't lose here.
The First Hokage raised his hands, the air around him warping as his chakra surged to unfathomable levels. The ground trembled beneath them, and Naruto's fists clenched as he prepared himself for the battle ahead.
"Let's do this," he muttered, his voice steady despite the storm brewing around him.
The ground trembled violently, resonating with a growing energy that felt as though it could tear the earth itself apart. Hashirama's hands came together in a decisive clap, his brown hair whipping wildly behind him as his chakra flared to staggering levels. The intensity of it pressed down on Naruto like an invisible weight, suffocating yet undeniably awe-inspiring.
"Mokuton: Deep Forest Emergence!" Hashirama's voice rang out, authoritative and unyielding, like a natural force declaring its dominion.
The sand beneath their feet churned as something massive began clawing its way to the surface. Then, with an earth-shattering rumble, roots—thicker than any tree Naruto had ever seen, even in the Forest of Death—exploded upwards. Their gnarled surfaces tore through the desert floor like living beasts, shattering a wide section of the already-ruined village wall as they surged forward. Sand sprayed into the air in massive plumes, cascading down in golden waves as the roots twisted and coiled like serpents.
Naruto's eyes narrowed but remained steady, his posture unwavering even as the chaos unfolded around him. He didn't so much as blink at the display of raw power. He'd heard the stories, the legends of the Shodai Hokage—the man who shaped entire battlefields with the force of his will. But even the tales paled in comparison to the reality before him.
The roots spread rapidly, snaking toward him in a relentless surge, their movements impossibly fast yet disturbingly calculated. They tore through the desert with such force that the very landscape seemed to bow to Hashirama's will. Sand dunes collapsed, their golden slopes buried under a wave of writhing wood.
Kurama stirred within the seal, his voice laced with tension. "Look at him. He's not even trying. This—this is the kind of power that makes nations bow without a fight." There was a rare trace of unease in the fox's tone, a grudging acknowledgment of Hashirama's overwhelming might. "You see now why I said not to underestimate him? This isn't a fight. It's a storm. And he is the storm."
Naruto didn't reply, his eyes fixed on the roots barreling toward him. The sheer absurdity of what Hashirama had just done wasn't lost on him. In a matter of moments, the man had transformed the barren desert into an alien forest—a living monstrosity that defied nature itself.
As the roots closed in, Naruto planted his feet, his wood prosthetic sparking to life as he molded his chakra. "Alright, old man," he muttered under his breath, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in a fierce grin. "Let's see how you like my power."
He combined the natures of earth and water, the familiar foundation of the Mokuton. But he didn't stop there. He added wind—his birthright—and with it created not just a Kekkei Genkai, but a Kekkei Tōta. The energy surged into his wooden arm, crackling with life as he prepared to strike.
"Shuton: Tanesandan!" Naruto wound up like a baseball pitcher, the motion fluid and precise. With a sharp, explosive thrust, he launched a shotgun blast of seeds infused with the elemental trinity. The projectiles scattered in a wide arc, each one humming with destructive potential as they streaked toward the advancing roots.
The instant the seeds collided with the encroaching wood, they detonated in a chain reaction of ear-splitting explosions. The force of the blasts reverberated through the air, a thunderous cacophony that shook the ground and sent a massive mushroom cloud towering into the sky. The sheer brightness of the explosions lit up the false sun-soaked battlefield, momentarily blinding even the desert itself.
As the smoke cleared, Naruto could see the results. His attack had stopped the roots in their tracks, the scorched remnants of Hashirama's Mokuton scattered across the battlefield. But it wasn't over. On the outskirts of his attack's range, the untouched roots continued their relentless march, snaking around and behind him with eerie precision.
Naruto's eyes widened as the roots met in the middle, coiling together and spiraling upward in twisting columns. They reached skyward, towering higher than any building, stabbing into the heavens as if to pierce the sun itself. At their peaks, grotesque blossoms began to bloom—petals of vibrant pink unfurling to release a dense cloud of toxic pollen. The sickly-sweet haze hovered above, spreading slowly but ominously, a harbinger of the forest's dominance.
The barren desert, once defined by endless sand, was gone. In less than a minute, Hashirama had created an entire ecosystem—a sprawling, alien forest that radiated unnatural vitality. The roots, the twisting pillars, the toxic flowers—all of it screamed of something both ancient and otherworldly. This wasn't just a forest; it was a statement.
Naruto whistled low, his eyes darting across the battlefield to take in the full scope of what had just occurred. "Huh, that's actually a pretty cool use of wood style," he admitted begrudgingly, his grin returning despite himself. "I can use Mokuton too, but I've never thought of doing anything like this. Definitely gotta take some notes."
"Focus, idiot!" Kurama snapped, the fox's voice sharp with urgency. "This isn't a sightseeing tour. He's just getting started."
Naruto's grin faltered as he turned his gaze back to Hashirama. The former Hokage's stance had shifted, his hands forming intricate seals with practiced ease. His chakra flared again, even stronger than before, and his once-calm demeanor had given way to a fierce determination.
The ground trembled anew, a subtle yet foreboding warning. Naruto felt his own heart quicken as the weight of the moment settled over him. "So this is what it's like," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "To stand in the shadow of a legend."
Kurama growled low, his unease palpable. "He's entered Sage Mode. This isn't just his chakra anymore—it's nature itself bending to his will. You need to stop admiring him and start fighting like your life depends on it. Because it does."
Naruto's jaw tightened, his grin fading completely. The tension in the air was almost unbearable, like the calm before a cataclysmic storm. He clenched his fists, his mind racing as he prepared for the next move. The battlefield trembled once more, and Naruto felt the air grow heavy with the weight of Hashirama's intent. Whatever came next, he knew it would test every ounce of his strength.
"Senpo Mokuton: True Several Thousand Hands!" The ground split apart violently, the desert quaking beneath the sheer force of Hashirama's chakra. The roots and trees he had summoned earlier twisted and writhed, converging behind him like living streams of wood and bark. The air itself seemed to thrum with anticipation as his chakra molded them into a towering figure. Slowly, impossibly, the wood began to take shape—the form of a titanic Buddha, its serene face carved with meticulous detail, its expression at once calm and unyielding.
This wasn't merely a jutsu—it was a manifestation of Hashirama's will, a display of power so overwhelming it defied comprehension. The Buddha's body stretched skyward, dwarfing the ruins of the village and even the tallest dunes in the distance. Its legs were rooted deep into the earth, stabilizing its colossal form, while its massive torso exuded an aura of invincibility.
And then came the arms.
Hundreds, thousands of them unfurled from the Buddha's back like the petals of an immense flower. Each arm was perfectly sculpted, reaching outward in an ever-expanding fan that seemed to envelop the entire battlefield. The sheer number of them was staggering, creating an intricate lattice of power that seemed capable of smothering the world itself.
Even Kurama, who had seen more than his share of overwhelming power, rumbled within the seal. "That damned statue… It's been ages, but I haven't forgotten it. If you're not careful, Naruto, that thing will grind you into dust."
Naruto stood frozen for a moment, his eyes wide as he took in the sheer scale of the jutsu before him. The Buddha's head alone was larger than the Hokage Monument back in Konoha, and the arms—so many arms—cast immense shadows across the landscape. Yet, even in the face of such overwhelming power, a grin tugged at the corners of his lips.
"Yeah," he muttered, his voice laced with both awe and determination. "I think I'm getting a pretty good idea what you're talking about, Kurama. You ready to do this?"
The fox growled, his voice resonating with excitement and vindication. "I've been waiting for my revenge match against this bastard since before you were born! Let's fucking go!"
Naruto closed his eyes, centering himself as Kurama's chakra surged through the seal. It was like opening a floodgate, an unrelenting wave of energy pouring into his body. The modifications his father had made to the seal allowed Naruto and Kurama to synchronize their chakra to an unparalleled degree, achieving a partnership that blurred the line between man and beast.
Focusing the massive influx of power into his wooden prosthetic arm, Naruto began his own transformation. The arm swelled and grew, expanding rapidly as the wood absorbed Kurama's energy. The transformation wasn't chaotic—it was deliberate, methodical, each piece fitting together like the movements of a master craftsman.
The wooden arm stretched and molded itself into a colossal sculpture, swallowing Naruto whole in the process. As it grew larger, its shape became more defined, taking on the form of a tailless Kurama. The craftsmanship was breathtaking—the wooden surface bore the intricate patterns of fur, the contours of the fox's muscles, and the sharp angles of its claws. Its eyes and mouth glowed a deep, fiery red, the energy within them pulsating like molten lava.
At the fox's rear, nine massive flowers began to bloom. Their petals were rich and vibrant, but within their pistils lay the true source of their power. From each one emerged a tail, constructed entirely of Kurama's chakra. These nine tails moved with a terrifying fluidity, each one a living extension of the fox's will, their red hue gleaming with barely-contained energy.
Naruto and Kurama's combined creation towered high, its size rivaling even Hashirama's titanic Buddha. The wooden Kurama wasn't just a replica—it was a living, breathing force of nature, powered by the synergy of man and beast. It radiated an overwhelming presence, a primal energy that rippled through the battlefield and challenged Hashirama's dominance.
"Kurama: Stage Nine—Mokuton Mode!" Naruto and Kurama roared in unison, their voices booming across the landscape like thunder.
From atop his Buddha, Hashirama's gaze remained steady, though there was a flicker of admiration in his eyes. "Amazing," he said softly, his voice carrying despite the distance. "You've mastered Mokuton in a way I never expected. Truly impressive, Uzumaki Naruto."
Naruto grinned, the confidence in his expression as fierce as the red glow of his construct's eyes. "Thanks for the compliment, old man. But don't think I'm stopping here!"
The wooden Kurama crouched slightly, its massive claws digging into the ground as its tails coiled and twisted like serpents. The air grew thick with tension, every movement promising devastation.
On the other side of the battlefield, Hashirama raised his hands, the arms of his Buddha stirring to life. The massive appendages began to move in unison, their sheer size and number creating an oppressive sight. The desert quaked as the Buddha shifted forward, its intent clear.
One colossal hand swung down with terrifying speed, but Naruto and Kurama's wooden avatar darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the impact. The hand slammed into the sand with an earth-shaking crash, sending plumes of sand and debris high into the air. Before they could regain their footing, another hand came from the left. This time, they leaped upward, the wooden construct twisting mid-air to dodge the attack.
Naruto grinned, adrenaline pumping as they narrowly evaded another strike. "Not bad, huh, Kurama? We've got this—"
"Don't celebrate yet!" Kurama barked, his sharp gaze catching movement from above. "They're not letting up!"
Naruto's grin vanished as a dozen hands descended simultaneously, each one massive enough to crush entire buildings. The air around them crackled with the force of the attacks, the sheer weight of the strikes pulling at the sand below. The avatar twisted and darted, narrowly evading some of the strikes, but the relentless barrage was too much.
One colossal hand grazed their flank, sending the construct staggering. Another followed immediately, slamming into their back with the force of a meteor and driving them into the sand. The impact left a massive crater, the ground splintering and radiating cracks outward like a shattered mirror.
"Damn it!" Naruto growled, struggling to stabilize their movements. His hands gripped the inner controls of the construct, his entire body trembling as shockwaves coursed through the wooden frame.
Kurama snarled, his chakra surging. "Focus! We're not done yet!"
The avatar managed to rise, its massive limbs straining against the weight of the sand already shifting around it. But the assault didn't stop. More arms swung down, their movements precise and unrelenting. One wrapped around their right foreleg, yanking them off-balance, while another clamped down on their left flank. A third seized one of their tails, pulling them backward as if tethering them in place.
"Kurama! Move us!" Naruto shouted, his voice raw with desperation.
"I'm trying!" Kurama snapped, his tails thrashing violently. But the Buddha's grip was unyielding, the hands tightening like a vice. For every tail or limb they freed, another hand would clamp down, pinning them further.
Before they could regroup, the Buddha's remaining arms descended in a coordinated strike. One massive hand slammed into their back, forcing them deeper into the sand. Another followed, then another, each blow more punishing than the last. The ground beneath them groaned under the pressure, sand shifting and cascading around the construct as if trying to swallow it whole.
Inside the avatar, Naruto felt every impact as though the blows were landing directly on his own body. The vibrations tore through the wooden frame, resonating deep into his bones. Each colossal strike sent shockwaves rippling through him, rattling his teeth and jarring his innards. His muscles tightened instinctively with each tremor, his breath forced from his lungs in sharp gasps as if the air itself was being crushed out of him.
The deafening sound of splintering wood and shifting earth filled his ears, the echo of each thunderous impact pounding in his skull like a drumbeat. Even though the blows weren't striking his physical form, the sheer force behind them was almost unbearable. It felt like the ground beneath him was betraying him, shifting and churning as if the desert itself had come alive, conspiring to bury him alive.
His vision blurred momentarily, the overwhelming pressure pressing down on him from all directions. The wooden frame groaned and cracked around him, the sound a painful reminder of their rapidly deteriorating situation. His body ached as though every nerve was being wrung out, the relentless onslaught leaving him feeling as if he'd been pummeled for hours rather than seconds.
The sinking sensation grew worse with every blow, the construct being driven further and further into the churning sand. The ground no longer felt solid—it was a pit, pulling them down into an abyss they couldn't escape. The realization clawed at the edges of his mind, a creeping sense of helplessness that he fought to shove aside.
"Why… can't… we move?!" Naruto shouted, his frustration boiling over as the avatar sank further into the desert.
Kurama's growl deepened, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the battlefield through their shared vision. "It's not just the force of the blows," he snarled. "Look closer, Naruto. He's controlling the wood itself!"
Naruto's eyes darted to the edges of the battlefield, where he saw it: the faint glow of Hashirama's chakra lines snaking through the ground, connecting to the wooden construct. The realization hit him like another blow. "You've gotta be kidding me!" he gasped. "He's turned our own Jutsu against us!"
"That bastard!" Kurama roared, his tails thrashing in frustration. The red chakra pulsing through their wooden form flared violently, trying to break free, but the Buddha's grip was unyielding. The more they struggled, the more the sand seemed to shift and swallow them, the combined force of the arms and the desert working against them.
The relentless assault continued, each blow driving them deeper. The construct's legs were almost entirely buried, its massive frame sinking inch by inch into the collapsing dunes. Naruto felt the weight of the battle pressing down on him, the air inside the avatar growing heavy as their options dwindled.
"We can't keep this up!" Naruto shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. "We're getting buried alive out here!"
Kurama's growl rumbled like distant thunder, his frustration palpable. "We need a new plan—and fast. He's not just beating us; he's suffocating us!"
Another massive hand descended, slamming into their back and driving them even further into the sand. The construct groaned under the pressure, its wooden frame cracking audibly. The deafening sound of shifting dunes and splintering wood filled the air as the Buddha loomed above them, its thousands of arms ready to deliver the final blow.
Naruto and Kurama exchanged a glance inside the seal, their shared resolve unshaken despite the overwhelming odds. Inside the construct, Naruto tightened his grip, his knuckles white with tension. "Kurama, this wood thing isn't working. He's got too much control over it."
Kurama's crimson eyes burned with intensity, his lips curling into a sharp grin. "Finally, using your head for once. What's the plan, genius?"
Naruto smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching upward despite the chaos. "We switch it up. If he's got wood, we go with something that doesn't bend to him—something colder."
Kurama's laugh was a low rumble, full of approval. "Now you're talking, kid. That's the way to flip the script on this bastard."
Inside the seal, the atmosphere was electric, charged with their shared determination. Naruto stood atop the rippling water of the chamber, fists clenched as he met Kurama's gaze. The fox's form loomed large behind the bars of his cage, his glowing eyes alight with renewed focus.
"Alright," Naruto said, his voice steady now. "We're doing this. Time to show him what we've got."
Kurama grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light of the seal. "You've got guts, brat. Let's hope you've got the skill to back it up." The two nodded in unison, their shared determination reigniting as they channeled their focus back to the battlefield. The world outside was chaos, the pounding arms of the Buddha unrelenting, driving their wooden form further into the sand. But this time, Naruto and Kurama weren't fighting to endure—they were preparing to transform.
Kurama's chakra shifted, its oppressive heat cooling rapidly. The elemental balance began to change, the earth chakra dissipating as wind surged in its place. The wooden construct trembled, steam hissing from every joint as the chakra flowing through it reached a boiling point.
"Brace yourself!" Kurama roared as the transformation began.
The first change was the texture. The wooden surface of the construct hardened and darkened, turning glassy and reflective. Frost crept across its body, spreading like veins until the entire structure gleamed under the battlefield's harsh light. Steam billowed from every joint as the last remnants of heat were purged, the construct solidifying into a massive, crystalline figure of ice.
The transformation wasn't just cosmetic. The new form was lighter, sharper, and far more resilient. The massive claws of the construct gleamed like blades, and the red chakra that coursed through its body was now a fiery contrast against the icy shell. Its tails, once sluggish with the weight of wood, now flicked with dangerous precision, leaving trails of frost in the air.
"Kurama: Stage Nine—Hyōton Mode!" Naruto and Kurama roared in unison, their combined voices echoing across the battlefield like a war cry.
The Buddha's arms descended again, aiming to crush the newly transformed construct. But this time, the ice avatar didn't flinch. The first arm struck, and instead of shattering the construct, it froze on contact. Frost spread rapidly up the length of the arm, encasing it completely in a thick layer of ice.
Kurama growled, his tails whipping around with newfound agility. With a powerful slash, the frozen arm shattered into countless shards, glittering in the air like broken glass. Hashirama's wooden Buddha, massive and imposing, wasted no time in responding. Its thousand arms descended in unison, a relentless tide of destruction aimed directly at the icy avatar.
Naruto gripped the controls inside the construct, his breath visible in the rapidly cooling air. "Alright, Kurama, let's show him we're not done yet!"
Kurama growled, his crimson eyes blazing even against the frigid backdrop. "Don't get cocky. He's still leagues above us—but we can make him sweat. Or, y'know, freeze."
The frozen Kurama lunged forward, its massive claws gliding effortlessly over the slick surface of the ice forming beneath it. The Buddha's arms descended like meteors, each strike sending shockwaves through the ground, but the icy avatar was faster now, its movements precise and fluid. It ducked under one arm, twisted to evade another, and lashed out with its razor-sharp tails. Each strike left deep gouges in the Buddha's surface, frost spreading rapidly across the wood.
The Buddha's arms moved faster, its strikes growing more coordinated. It was no longer a barrage of chaotic blows; each movement was calculated, aiming to trap the frozen Kurama in a web of attacks. The ground trembled as arms collided with ice, shattering some sections of the tundra while others rebuilt themselves under Kurama's chilling influence.
The frozen Kurama leapt back, narrowly avoiding a downward smash that sent cracks racing through the ice beneath it. Steam began to pour from its joints, the temperature around it dropping even further. The air turned sharp and bitter, frost forming on every surface, and even the relentless sun above seemed to dim in the face of the bone-chilling cold.
"Let's end this!" Naruto roared from within the construct.
Kurama channeled their combined chakra into a single, focused pulse. "Hyōton: Shinrei!"
A blinding wave of icy energy exploded outward, freezing everything in its path. The once-arid desert was transformed in an instant. Sand dunes crystallized into jagged ice sculptures, their surfaces glittering like shards of glass. The wooden Buddha, caught in the epicenter, froze mid-motion, its thousand arms encased in a thick layer of frost. The groan of freezing wood echoed like the howl of a winter storm as the ice spread across the entire battlefield.
The cold was absolute, far below sub-zero temperatures. The air itself seemed to crackle, and any sound was muffled by the oppressive chill. The desert had become an arctic wasteland, the heat of the battle extinguished in a single, devastating moment.
As the ice solidified, the Buddha's arms, once so menacing, began to fracture. Hairline cracks spiderwebbed across their surfaces, spreading rapidly. One by one, the arms shattered, massive chunks of frozen wood crashing to the ground with earth-shaking force. The frozen construct of Kurama stood unscathed, its crystalline form glinting in the pale light of the frozen wasteland.
Atop the frozen Buddha, Hashirama's figure was still visible, though his legs were frozen solid, trapping him in place. With a sharp crack, his legs shattered, sending his upper body sprawled on the icy remnants of his own Buddha construct.
Despite the dire circumstances, his expression betrayed nothing but calm. His sharp, seasoned eyes scanned the battlefield, taking in the aftermath of the titanic clash. The once scorching desert had been transformed into a frozen wasteland, crystalline shards of ice glittering under the dim sunlight like a shattered mirror.
The air was unnaturally still, the biting cold silencing even the wind. Steam curled from the frozen fox avatar, its massive form locked in place by the frost that spread across its body. Hashirama's gaze shifted, his keen mind noting a crack in the ice that ran along the fox's head. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but the longer he studied it, the more it stood out. His brow furrowed as realization began to dawn.
A faint whirring sound reached his ears—a deep, resonant hum that seemed to vibrate through the frozen air. Hashirama's eyes widened as he tilted his head back, searching for the source. His gaze snapped upward, and there he saw it: Uzumaki Naruto, hurtling down from above, his body wreathed in energy.
Hashirama's mind raced. So that's what he had been planning. He separated from the avatar before the freeze took hold… And now he was coming for him directly.
The swirling orb in Naruto's hand blazed with chakra, its vibrant energy tearing at the frozen air around it. This wasn't just chakra shape manipulation—Hashirama could see that much instantly. The orb pulsed with a strange, magnetic energy, its core glowing faintly with earthen hues while streaks of wind chakra spiraled outward in controlled chaos. The technique was raw yet refined, its power undeniable.
"Jiton: Rasengan!" Naruto roared, his voice echoing across the frozen battlefield.
Hashirama barely had time to process the name before the Rasengan connected. The force of the impact drove Hashirama further into the frozen wood beneath him, the spiraling chakra carving through his armor with ease. The magnetic energy tore into his Edo Tensei body, leaving a spiraling burn that pulsed with glowing markers. The seals spread rapidly, coiling like vines around his limbs and torso, locking his chakra in place. His regeneration faltered, the binding nature of the technique halting his body's ability to repair itself.
"Incredible," Hashirama murmured, his voice strained but filled with genuine admiration. His eyes flickered to Naruto, who stood over him with unyielding determination.
But Naruto wasn't done. "Shuton: Ice Clone Jutsu," he said, his voice steady but resolute, each word cutting through the freezing air. Hashirama's sharp eyes tracked Naruto as he brought his hands together in a quick, fluid sequence of seals. The bitter cold seemed to coalesce around him, the frost in the air thickening into visible wisps. The shimmering mist took form, hardening into three clones that gleamed under the pale, icy light of the battlefield. They stood like sentinels, their crystalline bodies etched with delicate fractals, each one a flawless reflection of Naruto's determined expression.
The clones moved in perfect unison, their motions precise and deliberate as they surrounded Hashirama. In their hands, swirling orbs began to form. "Jiton: Rasengan!" The orbs pulsed with the same strange, magnetic energy as before, the magnetic force emanating from the Rasengans crackled audibly, tugging at the surrounding frost and pulling loose shards of ice into their spiraling vortexes.
Hashirama's analytical mind marveled even as he remained pinned by the seals already on his body. Naruto had infused his technique with a unique combination of chakra natures—earth for stability, wind for precision, and something else… A magnetic field that disrupted even the Edo Tensei's chakra flow. The orbs' energy resonated in the air, their presence a palpable force that seemed to distort the very fabric of the battlefield.
The clones leapt into action, each one closing the distance with Hashirama in a blur of movement. Their frozen forms cut through the icy mist with an unnatural grace, their crystalline feet leaving trails in the frost-covered terrain. Hashirama could do nothing but watch as they converged on him, each clone raising its Rasengan high.
The first clone struck his left shoulder, the magnetic Rasengan sinking into his Edo Tensei body with devastating precision. The spiraling chakra drilled into his armor, shredding it to pieces and exposing the bare flesh beneath. The magnetic energy spread instantly, twisting into intricate, glowing seals that spiraled outward from the point of impact. The seals locked onto his chakra network, binding it with an oppressive force that resonated deep within his being.
The second clone landed its attack on his right arm. The force of the impact drove his arm into the frozen wood beneath him, and another wave of magnetic energy rippled through his body. The seals on his arm merged seamlessly with the ones on his shoulder, intertwining like veins of molten metal. The magnetic force constricted his movements further, rendering his arm completely immobile. He could feel the pull of the seals, their energy twisting and coiling through his chakra system like a net tightening around its prey.
The final clone delivered its Rasengan directly to his back. The spiraling chakra carved through his Edo Tensei armor with ease, the magnetic energy surging outward in a cascade of glowing markers. The seals expanded rapidly, enveloping his torso and binding him completely. The intricate network of overlapping seals pulsed rhythmically, their magnetic force disrupting the flow of chakra throughout his body. Hashirama felt the regenerative properties of the Edo Tensei falter further, the magnetic energy suppressing the jutsu's ability to repair his injuries.
The First Hokage's body was now fully bound, his movement restricted entirely. The magnetic force of the seals resonated through him like the tolling of a heavy bell, each pulse reinforcing the unyielding grip on his chakra. His legs, shattered earlier in the battle, remained frozen and fragmented, unable to regenerate. His torso, arms, and shoulders were immobilized by the overlapping seals, the magnetic energy pinning him in place like a butterfly caught in a web.
Hashirama's expression softened, his lips curving into a faint smile despite the constriction. His sharp eyes gleamed with a mixture of pride and respect as he looked up at Naruto, who stood amidst the frozen battlefield, his breath visible in the frigid air. "Magnificent," Hashirama murmured, his voice steady despite the weight pressing down on him. "You've not only bound me—you've halted the very essence of the Edo Tensei. Few could achieve such a feat."
Naruto remained silent for a moment, his stance unwavering as he gazed down at the immobilized Hokage. His clones dispersed into the frosty air, their purpose fulfilled. "I couldn't let you keep fighting," he finally said, his voice firm but not unkind. "You're the First Hokage, but right now, you're a threat to everyone I care about. I had to stop you."
Hashirama's smile widened, his pride evident even in defeat. "You carry the Will of Fire well, Uzumaki Naruto. The village… our legacy… is in good hands." His voice was calm, filled with genuine admiration. Even as the seals tightened further, locking him in place, his gaze never wavered from Naruto.
The original walked around to the side of Hashirama and dropped to his butt, sitting cross-legged as close to eye level as he could manage with the immobilized Hokage. Despite the overwhelming exhaustion in his body, Naruto forced a grin, the kind that masked both his fatigue and his unease. "Thanks for the compliment, old man," he said, his voice steady but carrying a note of sincerity. "Hearing that from someone like you… it means a lot, y'know?"
Hashirama's bound form managed the faintest of nods, the magnetic seals constricting his movements but not his expression. In fact, his smile, warm and genuine, seemed all the more real because of those bindings. The layered seals had disrupted Kabuto's control, allowing Hashirama's true self to surface so long as they remained in place. "You've earned it. You've shown me what the Will of Fire looks like in this new era."
Naruto scratched the back of his head awkwardly, his grin softening into something more subdued. "Yeah, well, it's not like I'm doing this for compliments. I just… gotta protect my friends. That's all there is to it."
His gaze flicked briefly to the frozen battlefield, the towering Buddha statue still partially encased in ice, its arms ominously poised above them like a predator ready to strike. The sight of the massive construct sent an uneasy chill down Naruto's spine. He'd stopped it—for now—but the sheer scale of the thing made it clear how precarious their situation remained. If even a fraction of Hashirama's control returned, it could all fall apart in an instant.
"By the way," Naruto began, shifting his focus back to Hashirama. "I don't suppose you know how to do something more permanent about this Edo Tensei thing, do ya? I can't exactly just go running off and leaving you with clones… cause you're, y'know, you."
He'd been thorough, layering multiple levels of magnetic seals on the First Hokage's body, but Naruto wasn't naïve enough to think it was foolproof. This was Senju Hashirama, after all. If anyone could figure out a way to escape, it'd be him. And if that happened while Naruto was gone, he didn't even want to imagine the consequences.
Hashirama's expression turned thoughtful, the weight of his predicament evident despite his calm demeanor. "I'm afraid not," he admitted after a pause. "The technique that binds me to this world is beyond my control. My brother, Tobirama, would know the mechanics of it far better than I do. He designed it, after all. Since he's been summoned as well, he might have a way to stop it."
Naruto exhaled, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Great! If old man Nidaime knows something, then Sasuke will definitely get it out of him in no time. He's stubborn like that." He allowed himself a small chuckle, though the tension in his body didn't fully dissipate. "Until then, guess there's nothing else for me to do but chill here and babysit you. Make sure you don't go running amok anymore."
His tone was light, but the undercurrent of vigilance was clear. Naruto glanced again at the frozen arms of the Buddha, still poised menacingly above them. "By the way, this thing ain't gonna start moving again once the ice melts, right?" he asked, his voice betraying just a hint of unease.
Hashirama's smile remained calm, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—understanding, perhaps, or even regret. "It shouldn't," he said carefully. "As long as my chakra is bound by your seals, I can't give it any commands. But you're right to be cautious. My Mokuton… it's not something to be underestimated. Even without my will behind it, the remnants of my chakra could act unpredictably."
Naruto's jaw tightened at that, his unease bubbling closer to the surface. He didn't like the idea of leaving his team in the middle of a fight, especially with Sasuke and the others still out there dealing with Tobirama and whatever else Kabuto had planned. But the thought of Hashirama breaking free—or worse, his Buddha statue resuming its rampage—was enough to root him in place. He couldn't risk it. Not when the stakes were this high.
Hashirama seemed to sense his inner conflict. "You care deeply for your comrades," he said, his voice gentle. "That's a strength, Naruto. But don't let it blind you. Sometimes, the greatest act of protection is trust—trusting that your friends can handle their battles while you handle yours."
Naruto frowned, his gaze dropping to the frosted ground beneath him. "Yeah, maybe," he muttered. "But it's not that simple. They're counting on me, and if I mess this up…" He didn't finish the thought, his words trailing off into the cold, still air.
The First Hokage's smile softened, a quiet understanding passing between them. "It's never simple," he said. "But that's what makes it worth fighting for."
Naruto remained quiet for a moment, his fists clenching at his sides. He knew Hashirama was right, but that didn't make it any easier. Finally, he forced himself to meet the First's gaze, his resolve hardening once more. "For now, you're my priority," he said firmly. "I'll trust Sasuke and the others to handle the rest. But if you even think about trying something, old man, I won't hesitate to seal you even tighter. Got it?"
Hashirama chuckled, the sound light and genuine despite his predicament. "Understood," he replied, his tone warm with approval. "I wouldn't expect anything less from the future Sixth Hokage."
Naruto snorted, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile. "Damn right."
Despite the tension lingering in the air, there was an odd sense of camaraderie between them—a fleeting connection between two generations of the Will of Fire, standing on opposite sides of an impossible battlefield.
Chapter End
AN: The only new attack that needs a translation this time is the Ice Style Shinrei（深冷）translated as a "deep cold" or "deep freeze."