Madara raised his head. "Father, please speak."
"Uchiha and Senju are destined to fight."
"This is the rule of this world. Don't think about changing it. You can't change it anyway."
Tajima said flatly.
Izuna blinked, seeming to understand but not quite.
Madara, however, looked seriously at his father and nodded.
Tajima reached out and rubbed each of his two sons on the head, his movements unusually gentle.
"Become strong properly. Stay alive."
After saying that, he turned and left, never mentioning anything about "peace" or the "future" again.
From this day onward, Uchiha Tajima completely returned to "the way he was supposed to be."
He began to face the Senju, the borders, and all possible enemies like the clan leader in history, with a tough, cold, and absolutely unyielding attitude.
The spark of reform was extinguished by his own hand.
The transmigrator's ambition was also buried by his own hand.
———
Time flies.
Five full years had passed since the day Uchiha Tajima completely gave up on reform and announced his "return to the old system."
Throughout those five years, the Uchiha and Senju had been constantly at war.
The border between the Uchiha and Senju had hardly ever been truly quiet for more than half a month.
Watchtowers were destroyed and rebuilt, then destroyed and rebuilt again.
Corpses were collected and buried, then dug up again to serve as fuel for hatred.
The clansmen had already grown used to hearing the casualty list first thing in the morning, followed by which direction they were supposed to send reinforcements that day.
Uchiha Tajima had become "the Tajima from the original story" again.
He no longer mentioned any new chakra training methods, no longer sent people to contact neutral minor clans, and no longer tried to use his head to plan for the long term.
Every time there was a border clash, the order he gave consisted of only four words, an eye for an eye.
After that, retaliation against the Senju became the norm.
Fire Release, swordsmanship, ambushes, night raids... He used every fighting method from his memories of his previous life that "fit this era," yet he no longer dared to cross the line even once.
He knew someone was watching.
That mysterious traveler who could use senjutsu and easily beat him until he vomited blood, along with that warning, "If you go too far again next time, I won't be the one dealing with you."
Tajima didn't dare bet on it, nor did he want to.
The transmigrator's ambition was crushed into dust by reality bit by bit. In the end, only the simplest thought remained, stay alive, raise his two sons, and then... follow the script and finish the path that was meant to be walked.
Uchiha Madara was now ten years old.
Over these five years, his growth had been almost visible to the naked eye.
He had shot up in height, his shoulders had gradually broadened, and although his Sharingan had yet to awaken, the quality and amount of his chakra were already far beyond those of children his age.
Under his father's and the clan experts' supervision, his swordsmanship was extremely solid, while his Fire Release was practiced hard and accurately.
More importantly, something that children his age should not have was gradually appearing in those eyes of his, heaviness.
He had seen too many corpses.
Some were clan members, and some were enemies.
Once, he followed a patrol team to collect corpses and saw a Senju boy even younger than himself, a sword having pierced through his chest. He looked as if he had been tortured to death by Uchiha clansmen.
He heard that he was even the son of the Senju clan leader....
Uchiha Izuna was one year younger than him, nine years old.
His personality was gentler than his older brother's, though he was also more childish than Madara.
He was better at sensing and support. His swordsmanship was not as fierce as Madara's, but it was more flexible.
The two brothers had an excellent relationship. They trained together during the day. At night, they would sometimes secretly climb onto the roof and look at the faint fires along the distant border, neither of them speaking first.
Uchiha Tajima watched them, and an indescribable bitterness often welled up inside him.
He knew what these two brothers would go through in the original story.
He knew Izuna would eventually die at Tobirama's hands, knew Madara would completely fall into darkness because of it, and knew Konoha would be established and how it would treat the Uchiha afterward... But there was nothing he could do.
Every time he wanted to change something, those Mangekyo and that calm but deadly warning would appear in his mind.
So he could only suppress everything.
"Follow the original story."
"Stop messing around. The more you mess around, the faster you'll die."
Uchiha Tajima told himself this countless times at night.
And above all of this, Arisu continued to watch quietly.
He did not act again.
Tajima had already become "obedient," and the great river of history had returned to its predetermined course.
"So... the reincarnations of Indra and Asura will continue to cycle through blood and fire, and the gears of Madara and Hashirama's fates are about to begin as well."
Arisu stroked his chin and nodded.
———
[The River]
It was a shallow river located in a neutral area along the border between the two clans.
The current was not particularly fast. The riverbed was covered with smooth pebbles, while low shrubs and several crooked trees grew on both banks.
Because the terrain was open and easy to defend but difficult to attack, patrol teams from both clans rarely ventured deep into the area. Over time, it became a rare "blank space."
Uchiha Madara discovered it while going out alone to "clear his mind."
He did not immediately return to camp. Instead, he wandered along a small path made by wild animals and eventually reached the river.
The setting sun dyed the surface of the river blood-red. Standing on the bank, Uchiha Madara suddenly felt that the stuffiness he had been keeping pressed down in his chest seemed to have been washed away a little by the flowing water.
After that, he started coming here from time to time.
Sometimes it was after training, and sometimes he would sneak out at night.
He would sit on a rock by the bank and put his feet into the cold water, or pick up pebbles and throw them toward the opposite bank again and again.
The sound of the stones hitting the water was very light, yet it could temporarily make him forget those words about "the clan," "hatred," and "having to become strong."
Then he met Senju Hashirama.
Their first meeting was an accident.
Madara had just thrown a stone very far when the same crisp sound of it hitting the water suddenly came from the opposite bank.
He abruptly raised his head and saw a simply dressed boy with slightly messy hair standing on the other side. He was also holding a stone in his hand, his expression somewhat awkward.
The two stared at each other for several seconds.
"My name is Hashirama. What about you?"
Madara hesitated for a moment.
The clan strictly forbade revealing their surname, especially in a place like this where they might encounter enemies.
Uchiha Madara only gave his given name. "Madara."
And just like that, the two became acquainted.
At first, they were merely opponents at skipping stones.
Later, they gradually began talking. Hashirama said that he also hated war, hated watching his younger brothers die one after another. Madara listened in silence, occasionally nodding.
They discovered that their thoughts were surprisingly similar. They both wanted children to stop going to the battlefield. They both wanted a place where people could grow up without worry.
And so, their secret meetings began.
Every few days, the two would meet by the same river.
They skipped stones, competed in taijutsu, and discussed how to get the adults to accept the idea of a "ceasefire."
Hashirama proposed establishing a village where children could study at school, complete missions, and grow according to ranks, instead of being thrown onto the battlefield from a young age.
As Madara listened, his eyes gradually brightened.
He thought of Izuna, and he thought of those brothers who had already died.
"If there really were such a place... Izuna could grow up safely.", Madara said in a low voice.
They began sparring.
Taijutsu, chakra control, and even simple ninjutsu clashes.
Hashirama's taijutsu was solid, and his endurance was astonishing. Madara's speed and reactions were a little better.
The two often fought to a standstill, then sat by the river, panting heavily and smiling at each other.
The days passed one after another.
Madara's chakra steadily increased through sparring with Hashirama, and his swordsmanship also grew increasingly refined.
Once, Izuna asked curiously why his older brother had been going out so often lately. Madara merely rubbed his younger brother's head.
"To become stronger. To protect you."