A moment ago, in the space between life and death.
When Hashirama's soul left his body, it caught the attention of the Sage of Six Paths. He noticed the unique chakra clinging to it.
"Is it starting again?" the Sage's residual chakra murmured, recognizing the energy of his younger son. "Asura's chakra... returning to the Pure Land to follow his older brother and await the next reincarnation?"
This cycle of chakra reincarnation was a story the Sage had seen play out a thousand times. He was used to it. He could only hope that one day, his two sons' chakras would finally reconcile.
But this time was different. Hashirama's soul, carrying Asura's chakra seed, didn't return to the Pure Land. It remained in the crack between life and death, held back by a lingering attachment.
This was a problem.
A big one.
This had never happened before. Asura's chakra was supposed to constantly reincarnate to resolve the cycle of Indra's chakra.
Why would it choose to get stuck here?
The Sage frowned, able to think of only one reason: "Could it be because the vessel of Indra's chakra hasn't died yet?"
But that wouldn't solve anything. A soul trapped in the crack might never find liberation. It needed another soul to respond to its attachment. Even if Indra's reincarnation died, he might not be willing to respond. That arrogant elder son's chakra might just mercilessly return to the Pure Land, starting the next round of reincarnation and leaving Ashura's soul trapped for eternity.
"Although it's not a true crisis for the ninja world," the Sage's chakra sighed, "fortunately, this is not the living world. This residual chakra doesn't need a medium to descend." His figure quietly drifted towards the lonely soul.
Hashirama's soul sat by a spectral bonfire, looking around in confusion at the boundless, terrifying darkness. The loneliness was suffocating. Fortunately, he was no ordinary person. His will was firm. He was consumed by one question: when could he see Madara?
No, wait, that's not right. I'm here to see the Sage of Six Paths.
But the thought of Madara was a powerful anchor, an attachment so strong it almost overshadowed his original purpose. It was a bit rude, he realized, to be dead and so desperately hoping to see his dead friend soon. But the thought wouldn't go away.
In this timeless place, he might see Madara in the next moment. Or it might take a thousand years.
Just as he was feeling a bit ashamed of his own impatience, a strangely dressed old monk walked out of the darkness.
"Newcomer," the monk said with a kind face, "may I rest here for a while?"
"Of course, you can," Hashirama replied, kind even as a disembodied soul. He made some space by the fire. But as the old monk sat down, something felt wrong.
Wait a minute. Didn't Emiya Shirou say this place was pure loneliness?
What's a traveling monk doing here?
"Are you willing to chat with an old monk like me?" the old man asked, leaning on his staff. "Why are you staying here?"
"And who might you be?" a hint of vigilance crept into Hashirama's soul. He remembered Shirou's warning. "In this place, souls shouldn't be able to meet."
"Newcomer," the old monk's gaze lifted, revealing a pair of strange, ring-like eyes that seemed to pull Hashirama in. "Then can you first tell me who told you about the situation here? Even the dead should not know of this place."
"That's... the Rinnegan," Hashirama recognized the legendary eyes at once. The eyes of the Sage of Six Paths! "Are you... the Sage of Six Paths?"
His first reaction was regret. He'd forgotten to ask Shirou what the Sage looked like! But it had to be him.
Who else could wander this place? Their plan had succeeded!
"I really didn't expect there are still people in the living world who remember an old monk like me," the Sage sighed, his eyes closing slightly.
"It really is you!" Hashirama was overjoyed, then immediately blurted out his attachment. "Sorry, I'm just staying here because I want to see my old friend, Madara."
"Hmm?" The Sage raised a finger, looking helpless. "Your friend should still be alive."
"Uh, sorry, that's not what I meant," Hashirama tried to restrain his fixation, but couldn't. He ended up recounting his entire history with Madara—their first meeting, their forced separation, their battles as clan leaders. "I have never forgotten my friendship with him. Even after we grew up and had to become enemies, I still hoped to be friends."
The Sage nodded, listening patiently. This story was perfectly in line with the characteristics of Asura's reincarnates: kind-hearted, sincere, always hoping to unite those around them.
"Later, I finally did it," Hashirama said, a hint of nostalgia in his soul. "Madara and I founded Konoha. But in the end, we quarreled. He left and wanted to destroy the village we had built together. We started a war again."
His soul grew heavy. "To protect Konoha, I had to hunt him for ten years before I died. I still haven't solved the problem of Madara. He might still endanger the village."
"It's not your fault," the Sage said gently. He knew Madara was the vessel of Indra's chakra, and those who carried it often fell into the worship of extreme power. To be honest, this generation's Asura had done very well, pacifying the chaotic era. It was just a pity he hadn't ended the war with Indra's reincarnate. "So, your old friend became your lingering attachment?"
"That's right. I want to return to the living world," Hashirama pleaded earnestly. "Lord Emiya told me that only you could let me return after death, and that I should come here to seek an audience."
"Emiya..." the Sage muttered, searching his thousand-year memory. "Emiya... Shirou?"
"Yes!" A flash of surprise crossed Hashirama's face.
"Lord Emiya," the Sage looked astonished. He shot up, wanting to find Shirou's whereabouts. "I remember he died long ago."
Even in death, Shirou had been a good person. The Sage had often seen his soul appear in this realm, helping other lost souls find their way, which always made him feel a bit ashamed of his own inaction.
"Uh," Hashirama explained sheepishly how his brother had used the Impure World Reincarnation to bring Shirou back.
The corner of the Sage's eye twitched.
Wait, Ashura's descendants are also nothing but trouble.
How dare they disturb Emiya Shirou's peace?
If the other souls in the Pure Land knew, the caster would be beaten to a pulp the moment he arrived.
"You guys really are... reckless," a bitter smile appeared on the Sage's face. "How could you disturb his soul's peace? He was the medical saint revered by all humans in the ancient era, a saint worshipped by the dead in the Pure Land. Even I am far from his equal. To use a forbidden jutsu to summon his soul is a bit too disrespectful."
Hashirama just scratched his head in embarrassment.
"Fortunately, Lord Emiya Shirou is magnanimous and did not choose to argue with you," the Sage sighed again, a look of shame on his face. "I really didn't expect that he would place his hopes in me to help you."
"Although it is a great honor, I may have to say sorry to him. I can't be like him, saving the suffering world. Right now, I only have residual chakra left. This chakra needs to be used to guard against a true crisis in the ninja world, a crisis that could destroy it."