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Chapter 53 - Hashirama—Does Madara Still Refuse to Forgive Me?

Uchiha Nan's hands flew through a rapid sequence of seals.

A pale white glow enveloped the condemned prisoner before him. Amid agonized screams, the body crumbled into ash and dust—and from within the swirling Edo Tensei remains, a familiar face slowly took shape.

Senju Hashirama had arrived.

Nan's lips curled into a smile. The technique had succeeded.

To avoid any accidents, he had deliberately used Tobirama's original version of Edo Tensei—the imperfect one. The sacrifice was nothing more than an ordinary death-row criminal, not even a ninja.

As a result, the resurrected Hashirama was extremely weakened, and control over the reanimated body was firmly in Nan's hands.

Clad in dark red armor from the Warring States era, Senju Hashirama slowly opened his eyes.

"…Is this the Pure Land?"

He looked around. The cramped underground chamber was pitch-black, illuminated only by a few flickering braziers.

"So even the afterlife isn't much better, huh."

Then his gaze landed on Nan—specifically, on the Hokage ceremonial robe.

"That is—!"

Hashirama's expression lit up with surprise and joy.

"A Hokage? Even in the Pure Land, I get to see Konoha's Hokage?"

Like a fellow villager meeting another far from home, his eyes nearly watered.

"Which generation are you?"

"Where's Tobirama?"

"Dying so young… what a shame."

"How's Konoha doing now?"

He strode up to Nan, questions tumbling out one after another, barely stopping to breathe.

As Konoha's First Hokage—the village's founder—Konoha meant everything to Hashirama. More than his own children.

After all, he was the man who had once said: Even if it's my friend, my brother, or my own child—anyone who threatens the village will be shown no mercy.

In a sense, Hashirama was just as extreme as Madara—if not more so.

"First Hokage-sama, please—calm down," Nan said, slightly overwhelmed.

Hashirama was practically interrogating him at point-blank range.

"I am Konoha's Third Hokage," Nan continued, turning his back slightly and pointing to the inscription on his robe.

"My name is Uchiha Nan."

"…Uchiha?"

Hashirama froze, eyes widening.

He had passed the Hokage position to his brother, Senju Tobirama. And Hashirama knew better than anyone how Tobirama felt about the Uchiha—calling it bad would be generous. Hostile was more accurate.

And yet… Tobirama had handed the position to an Uchiha?

That alone shocked him.

What a pity, though—this Uchiha Third Hokage had died so young.

Without realizing it, Hashirama had already begun constructing an entire backstory in his head:

The Uchiha must have finally let go of their grudges and fully integrated into Konoha. Otherwise, Tobirama would never have allowed an Uchiha to become Hokage.

If Madara knew this… he would probably feel relieved.

Wait.

Madara died before me, didn't he?

That meant—

I can see Madara again.

The thought struck him like lightning.

Uchiha Nan was an Uchiha. Could it be that Madara had sent him to bring Hashirama over?

Joy, excitement, guilt—countless emotions surged through Hashirama's heart at once.

In the end, it had been his own hand that killed Madara—worse still, a betrayal from behind.

Hashirama desperately wanted to apologize.

The blade pierced your body, but the pain pierced my heart…

Even if given another chance, Hashirama knew he would still choose to kill Madara—for the sake of the village.

But if time could rewind, he would do anything to win Madara back, to keep him in Konoha.

If necessary, he would let Madara stab him instead. Once, twice—however many times it took.

He felt no regret—only remorse.

He just wanted to say it out loud, face to face.

Images from childhood flooded his mind: a summer dusk by the river, skipping stones, competing over who could pee farther—

The memories overwhelmed him.

Hashirama could hardly wait.

"Madara sent you to bring me to him, didn't he?"

"…Huh?"

Nan was completely dumbfounded.

When had he ever mentioned Madara?

He had noticed Hashirama zoning out earlier, probably shocked by the idea of an Uchiha Hokage—but how in the world had that led to Madara?

"Is… is Madara still unwilling to see me?"

Hashirama's face filled with panic.

He thought Madara still refused to forgive him.

All he ever wanted was to be brothers again—but fate had twisted everything beyond repair. Enemies, war, killing each other.

Still, he couldn't take all the blame.

Madara, you were the one who brought that gigantic 'pet' into the village. You were going to tear Konoha apart!

"Please, Third Hokage," Hashirama pleaded earnestly.

"For my sake—just let me see Madara once."

"I need to apologize to him. Just once is enough."

Nan stared blankly.

Hashirama's eyes were already glistening with tears.

This is… kind of touching, Nan thought.

But it's brotherly love. Very… brotherly.

You care this much about Madara—did Uzumaki Mito seriously have no opinion about this?

Nan didn't understand it. Nor did he want to.

He was doing just fine with Feng and Ling.

"Third Hokage," Hashirama urged anxiously,

"Can you take me to him?"

"If you won't—then I'll kneel!"

"Kneel?!"

Nan nearly jumped out of his skin and hurriedly grabbed Hashirama.

Everything he'd prepared flew straight out of his mind.

He had assumed that by suppressing Hashirama's power, the night would stay fully under his control.

Technically, it still was—but things had gone in a very strange direction.

Who knew what kind of soap opera the First Hokage had just written in his own head?

"First Hokage-sama," Nan said quickly while holding him up,

"What are you even talking about?"

"I don't know Uchiha Madara at all!"

"…What?"

Hashirama blinked.

"So… Madara didn't send you?"

The realization hit him—and with it, a wave of awkward silence.

"…Hahahahaha!"

He scratched his head and laughed sheepishly.

"Well, this is embarrassing. Sorry about that, Third Hokage."

Clearly, Hashirama had plenty of experience smoothing over cold moments.

Then, to change the subject, he asked casually:

"So… Third Hokage, how did you die?"

"..."

Now it was Nan's turn to darken.

"First Hokage-sama," Nan said flatly,

"I'm very much alive."

"I eat well, sleep well, feel great—

and I even have two beautiful women at home."

"..."

"Ah—ahahahaha!"

Hashirama burst into another round of awkward laughter, rubbing the back of his head.

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