Shinobi Isekai: Round Two

Give an Inch

Hashirama walked alongside the long line of carriages he and his brothers were protecting. He, his brothers, and Madara.

How long had it been since the two of them had a chance to talk? Sure, they managed to squeeze in a few words whenever they met on the battlefield, but those exchanges were shallow and left him wanting. What he craved were the long, unhurried conversations of their childhood. There was no one in his clan who understood him the way Madara did; no one who took the time to actually listen to what he had to say instead of brushing him off as an addlebrained idealist. Now, thanks to a merchant's mistake, he finally had the chance to relive the most carefree days of his life.

Or, he would, as soon as he managed to pin Madara down. If he didn't know better, he'd think his old friend was avoiding him...

The snow barely gave way under his weight as he shunshined to another part of the caravan. The youngest of the Uchiha brothers was seated on top of a carriage, legs crossed and back slouched. To the untrained eye, he looked rather bored. Hashirama knew better though. There was a tension in his limbs that meant he was ready to leap into action at any moment. His brown eyes were unfocused, but that likely meant he was using some other sense to monitor the surrounding forest. Even his placement on the roof of the carriage gave him a vital advantage against any landbound enemies they might encounter. The boy's apparent nonchalance was in fact a logical ruse.

Not unlike like Hashirama's.

As if sensing eyes on him, Madara's youngest sibling turned his gaze lazily to Hashirama. He raised an eyebrow at him before tilting his head, gesturing with his chin. Hashirama looked where he pointed and quickly threw a smile up at his helper in thanks.

"Madara," he exclaimed as he rushed to place a hand on the shorter man's shoulder, trapping him. "So this is where you were."

The Uchiha grimaced, but didn't pull away from Hashirama's touch. That was a good sign.

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

Hashirama kept his smile plastered on his face even in the face of Madara's hostility. Tobirama often reacted the same way, but that didn't negate the affection between them. "Madara, I was looking for you. This is a great chance to work together, for once. Aren't you excited?"

The sneer on his friend's face was completely unexpected.

"Can you be serious for once in your life? We aren't children anymore, Hashirama."

He let his smile drop. Alright, so maybe falling back on their childhood dynamic was a mistake. They hadn't had a proper conversation since that last time at the river, after all. As much as he wanted to go back to those days, time travel was impossible. They were different people now. Men, not boys.

"I know that."

"Do you?" Madara's dark eyes held no warmth as he glared at Hashirama. "You certainly don't act like it. What do you expect to come of a friendship between us? What end could there possibly be?"

Hashirama had an answer, but he waited a moment before sharing it. Madara's questions weren't baseless and the fervor with which he asked them only proved how important their relationship really was to him. If Hashirama answered immediately, then his words, no matter how heartfelt, would be dismissed. It happened often enough with Tobirama—the irony of that comparison was not lost on him—and he put on a show of considering his answer before speaking.

"Peace." It was the same answer he'd always had. "I'm tired of fighting you, Madara. I want to be able to have a conversation with my friend without have to look over my shoulder. I don't want to have my life revolve around violence, to always be looking over my shoulder. If our families can set aside their animosity, others will see that it really is possible. We can be the ones to usher in a new era for shinobi, together." He reached out with an open hand, expression hopeful. "Don't you want that, too?"