"Patriarch! Amamiya Raizen has already pushed twenty thousand troops across the canyon and into the border zone. If we don't act now, the entire Land of Fire will slip from Uchiha hands!"
A young Uchiha clansman knelt before Uchiha Madara, voice tight with panic.
Three days earlier, Konoha's forces had marched into the southern Fire Country. The shockwaves alone were enough to make every shinobi in the region feel the ground crack under their feet.
Everyone expected either Uchiha or Senju to rise and stabilize the chaos.
Instead, both clans had remained silent.
To the lesser clans, that silence felt like the hour before a natural disaster.
"Our enemy isn't Konoha," Madara said, face carved from stone. "Our enemy is Senju."
The room tightened.
Ever since Izuna's death, something essential inside Uchiha Madara had vanished.
The man who once carried the entire clan on his shoulders now walked like someone who had already lost his home. The world had gone gray on him. His hatred burned white.
If this were the Madara from a year ago, he might have even allied with Senju to stop Konoha's aggression.
But that Madara died with Izuna.
The one standing here wanted only a single thing:
Senju blood to balance a brother's grave.
"But, sir," another Uchiha said carefully, "if we keep fighting Senju… Konoha wins. They want the whole Land of Fire. Both our clans are their targets. If we don't stand together, they'll crush us one by one."
Murmurs of agreement followed. The idea of fighting Senju while Konoha loomed behind them felt like walking into a spear.
For a moment, Madara faltered.
He didn't care about the clan the way he once had. But he was still their patriarch.
And if he kept chasing revenge blindly, Konoha would sweep in, devour both Uchiha and Senju, and unify Fire Country under their banner.
Cold logic wrestled with long-boiled grief.
Duty against hatred.
Clan against brother.
Past against present.
Madara closed his eyes. The struggle inside him was a silent battlefield.
At the same time, deep in the Senju camp…
The Senju elders gathered in a tense circle, Konoha's advance weighing down the air.
"Patriarch," an elder said, rising stiffly, "Konoha is moving like they truly mean to unify Fire Country. If we wish to avoid destruction, we must join forces with Uchiha. Only together can we match Konoha's strength."
The elder hated saying it. Hated Uchiha more with every breath. But survival was survival.
Another elder scoffed and slammed his hand on the table.
"The deputy patriarch killed Uchiha Izuna with his own blade. And you expect Uchiha Madara to join us now? That man would sooner slit his own throat.
Besides—" his eyes sharpened "—why should Senju bow its head to Uchiha filth?"
Voices rose. Old wounds reopened like fresh cuts.
Hundreds of years of war left scars that didn't fade with one strategic meeting.
Senju and Uchiha hatred ran marrow-deep.
Hashirama listened quietly, eyes distant.
He didn't want to fight Uchiha.
He didn't want to fight Raizen either, a man whose village had once given him hope.
And after seeing Konoha with his own eyes during his previous visit, Hashirama had fallen for it completely.
A village where all shinobi were one family.
A place that might actually end the endless killing.
Konoha had already taken most of Fire Country. Only two giants remained: Uchiha and Senju. The rest of the clans had either surrendered or fallen.
For a man who dreamed of peace since childhood, the path seemed painfully clear.
"Everyone," Hashirama said softly, "if we cannot unite with Uchiha… then should we, Senju, join Konoha instead?"
The room froze.
Then it exploded.
"The Senju clan will never kneel!"
"We have ruled the Warring States for centuries—how can we submit?"
"Konoha is still a foreign force, no matter how pretty their ideals sound!"
Hashirama exhaled, long and defeated. His idealism had no place here.
"Big Brother…"
Tobirama finally spoke, eyes sharp beneath the white brows. He understood his brother's heart, maybe too well. Hashirama wanted peace, unity, a future. But the Senju elders saw only humiliation in the idea of joining Konoha.
And Tobirama knew this:
Senju would never accept living under another banner.
"If joining Konoha is unacceptable," Tobirama said, stepping forward, "then there is only one remaining path."
His voice was steel.
"We join Uchiha.
Not as friends.
Not as equals.
But as the only way to survive Konoha's march."
The room fell silent again.
Not in outrage this time.
In grim, reluctant understanding.
For the first time in a century, Senju had to consider standing beside their greatest enemy.
The Warring States trembled.
...
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