Madara and Hashirama: Forgotten First Meeting

It was getting dark, and when it got dark, it could be dangerous.  Mostly because that’s when the Uchiha clan would ambush other shinobi.  But Hashirama didn’t care. He refused to go back to the compound, despite the fact that he was dangerously close to Uchiha clan territory, in the neutral territory between Senju and Uchiha lands, in fact.  Instead, Hashirama made a decision that would, in the end, shape the course of the world. He walked deeper still into the woods, until he eventually stepped into a clearing by a river.

Immediately, he knew something was wrong.  His chakra seemed agitated, but he couldn’t quite tell why.  Looking around for a few seconds, Hashirama quickly identified the cause.  There was a small body in the river. Smaller than Hashirama’s by a significant margin.  He didn’t waste any time in attempting to drag the unconscious person out of the water. However, it was rather difficult, with said person being out of Hashirama’s reach, and all of Hashirama’s attempts at using chakra to stand on the water’s surface ending in a failure the moment there was a major fluctuation in chakra needed to stay on the water(which was when Hashirama started to pull the other person out of the water).

Finally, when Hashirama’s frustration reached its peak, something happened.  Small saplings burst out of the ground near him, coiling around the other child and depositing them on the shore.  Blinking in shock, Hashirama looked at his hands, then at the saplings. They hadn’t disappeared. Then, shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the child, who seemed to be about his own age, though definitely on the small, scrawny side.  A runt, as Butsuma was prone to saying. They also had bluish-black spiky hair, somewhat pale skin, and fine features.

Poking the other child on the shoulder, Hashirama asked, rather overenthusiastically and unironically, “Hey!  Are you alive?!”

When he got no response, he scowled and wondered if the trees would listen to him.  Willing them to prod the other child, Hashirama almost jumped when they obeyed. “Woah!  Awesome!”

The trees prodded the other five year old hard enough that they coughed up water, woke up, pulled out a kunai, and stood up...only to promptly collapse again.  Hashirama didn’t even stop to think about the fact that the chances the five year old was an Uchiha were nearly one hundred percent. Instead, he practically yelled, “So you’re  a shinobi too?! Cool!”

When he only received an groan in response, Hashirama became concerned.  “Are you okay?”

The other child shifted slightly.  “If you’re going to kill me, you might as well get it over with.  I’m low on chakra right now anyway.”

Hashirama’s brain screeched to a halt.  “What? Why would I do that? I saved you from drowning in the river.  You were out cold.”

The other child snorted.  “You’re a shinobi, like me.  Why wouldn’t you?”

Hurt, Hashirama replied indignantly, “But I’m not like that.  I don’t kill people just because they’re shinobi from a different clan.”

“If you knew which clan, you probably would.”

Still, Hashirama, being five and too trusting, didn’t get it.  “Bet I wouldn’t. But we don’t have to know each other’s clan names.  I’m Hashirama Se~” Hashirama cut himself off before he could say he was a Senju.

“Oops,” he laughed, “guess I almost said mine.  Now what’s your name?”

“Madara.”

“That’s a cool name!” Hashirama exclaimed, beaming.

“Bet you don’t share half your name with anyone, do you?  Two of my brothers also have names that end in “rama”, and the other one has a name ending with “ama”.  They’re all so similar.”

At this, it seemed, even this strange “Madara”, had to hold back a laugh.  A noise that sounded a bit like a strangled giggle reached Hashirama’s ears despite Madara’s self-control.  “Ha! You laughed! That means I’m funny!”

Madara’s face was expressionless once more.  “Did not. You’re not that funny.”

Right on cue, Hashirama entered one of his fake depressive episodes.  The “fake” part of this was lost on Madara, however. Hashirama whispered, “I’m not?  Guess I’ll die.”

Jumping up, and almost collapsing again, Madara placed a hand on Hashirama’s shoulder.  “Wait, no. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. Don’t be sad.”

Hashirama turned around slowly, then replied mischievously, “And that’s your weakness, assuming that’s what’s going on.”

Before Madara could react, Hashirama had tackled him to the ground using chakra to enhance his strength.  Madara protested, “Hey, no fair! I‘m low on chakra right now!”

Laughing evilly, Hashirama teased, “Now just imagine how people who aren’t shinobi feel.  They can never use chakra.”

“But I’m an...nevermind.  I’m really behind the rest of the shinobi my age in my clan.” Madara sighed, pushing Hashirama off of himself and sitting up.

Sensing the darkening of the mood, Hashirama tried to reverse it.  “Don’t be like that! Maybe you’re a late bloomer, and will be better than all of them someday!”

“Maybe,” Madara said doubtfully, not really believing it, “anyway, where do you stand among your clan?”

“Me?  I can beat the older kids!  But everyone always tells me to stop going easy.  I don’t get it. I don’t want to hurt my own comrades.  But everyone else always says that if I hold back, we’ll all get killed by the-the other clans.  Haha, almost slipped up there again!”

“...”

“What?”

“Why are there plants growing around where you’re sitting?”

Hashirama gasped.  “There are?!”

Madara was completely deadpan.  “Yes, there are. That’s what I just said.”

“For real?”

“...Look, I know you’re not stupid, but you’re really asking that?  Why would I lie?”

Casting a glance around himself, Hashirama could see that there were indeed tiny saplings sprouting from the grass.  Realizing that this was the same power he’d awakened just in time to pull Madara out of the river and prod him awake, he exclaimed, “Oh!  So that’s what you meant! Yeah, that’s just my Mokuton.”

Hashirama had just called it that, obviously because it seemed to grow trees.  Madara wasn’t willing to let it drop, apparently. “You seemed quite surprised by it.  Are you sure you didn’t just name it on the spot because you got that ability today?”

“You got me.  It seems to be a combination between Suiton and Doton, which would make sense, considering it grows trees.  Which would make it a Kekkei Genkai. I just got it while I was trying and failing to pull you out of the river.  My chakra control isn’t yet good enough to pull someone out of the water while standing on it, apparently. Also you were too far away from the shore for me to pull you out from there.  So then, all of a sudden, a bunch of trees grew out of nowhere, curled around you, and put you on the ground over here. Amazing, isn’t it?! Then I used them to wake you up.”

Frowning, Hashirama continued, “Anyway, how did you end up in the river?  Unconscious at that.”

Looking down at the ground, nervously plucking a blade of grass, Madara muttered, “I don’t remember ending up in the river.  The last thing I remembered before waking up was passing out and hitting the ground.”

“Huh.  But why are you low on chakra, and why did you pass out?”

Lowering his head and avoiding Hashirama’s eyes, Madara whispered, “I lied.  I’m not just low on chakra. I’m almost completely out of it. I couldn’t even have a taijutsu match with a three year old right now.  So, I passed out from chakra exhaustion.”

“But you didn’t answer my first question.  Why are you low on chakra, or rather, almost out of it?  And why would you ever push yourself that far?”

“I...I’m not good enough.  And my parents would rather I don’t come back than come back with too little improvement.  So I went out to train, as usual, and I trained for a very long time, trying to do a Katon jutsu.  But I still can’t do one properly. My flames are pitiful. Though I tried until I was almost out of chakra, at some point I could barely form hand signs, then I got dizzy, lightheaded, the world began to spin, my body got weak, and I fell on the ground.  Then I passed out from chakra exhaustion. Oh! That’s right, I was training on a hill near the river. Maybe I rolled down it and fell into the river.”

“You should never do that!  It’s dangerous! What if I wasn’t here today?  You could have drowned!”

“Well, if I can’t be good enough, it’s not like anyone’s going to care.”

“Since you’re not a bad person, I would!  What kind of jerks care only about strength when judging a person, not as a fighter, but as a person?  Also can you show me your Katon?  I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is!”

This earned Hashirama a hard stare.  “I don’t have enough chakra. I couldn’t make so much as a spark right now.”

“Hmm...I can give you some!”

“...If you really want to see the worst Katon ever.”

Hashirama rolled his eyes, putting his hand on Madara shoulder to transfer chakra.  When he finished, he stood up and stepped back. “Do it! Do it! See how big of flame you can make!”

Madara sighed, standing up.  “Here goes nothing.”

He quickly formed the necessary hand signs, and Hashirama narrowed his eyes.  Madara didn’t seem to be forming enough seals for any Katon jutsu Hashirama knew.  Maybe that was the problem? What he didn’t know, however, was that Madara was using a shortcut the Uchiha Clan had developed.  Taking a deep breath in as preparation to breathe out a magnificent fire, Madara said the name of the jutsu, being sure to aim it into the empty air, “Katon: Goukakyuu no Jutsu!”

What came out was unlike anything either boy expected.  Madara had expected a pathetic little puff of flame better for nothing more than momentarily blinding a single opponent.  Hashirama had expected a medium to large fireball that was capable of taking out other shinobi. But when Madara exhaled, a positively gigantic fireball roared out, causing the river to sizzle, steam to form, grass to be burned away, and the air to heat up.  When the jutsu was finished, the grass was still on fire, steam drifted to cover the entire area, and both boys stood in shocked silence.  Hashirama poked Madara. “Hey, that wasn’t small or pathetic. What clan do you come from?  The Uchiha or something?”

Flinching, Madara responded as evenly as possible, “No family names, remember?  And that is not what usually happens.  Normally it’s so small it would have a hard time lighting a campfire.”

“Uhhh…how are we going to put it out?”

“You do Suiton, right?  It has to be one of your affinities if it’s part of your Kekkei Genkai.”

“Well...problem is...my Mokuton might take a while to get under control...and wood and fire...well, that wouldn’t end well.”

“If this burns down the entire forest, it’s your fault, Hashirama.”

Gasping, Hashirama shot back, “But you’re the one who did the jutsu!”

“Hn.  You told me to, and I think it’s your chakra that made it so big.  Plus, you can use Suiton from a distance.”

“But...but...look at my Mokuton!  It’s also long range! You put it out!”

“Katon are the first elemental jutsu my clan’s shinobi learn, and I only know the others in theory, though.”

“Come on!  You don’t want me to make it worse, do you?”

Madara sighed.  “Fine.”

Weaving the hand signs for a basic Suiton, Madara managed to put out the residual fires(which, luckily, weren’t as bad as they could have been).  He was still rather surprised by this sudden ability to do proper jutsu. He wondered if it had something to do with Hashirama’s chakra, which seemed to be much more similar to nature energy than any shinobi’s chakra that Madara had ever felt.  Little did he know, he was correct, partially because his chakra and Hashirama’s were two halves of a whole, always seeking one another throughout generations.

Hearing the sound of a stone hitting the water, Madara turned to face Hashirama.  “What was that?”

Hashirama laughed.  “I’m skipping stones, silly.  You just throw the stone at the water right, and it skips!”

“That’s not very specific.”

“Want me to teach you?”

Madara shrugged.  “I guess.”

After half an hour, Madara still wasn’t very good at stone skipping.  To be fair, Hashirama couldn’t make it all the way across yet either. A wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over Hashirama.  “I’m tired. I think I’ll just sleep here.”

Madara blinked.  “Aren’t you afraid you’ll get attacked?”

“Nah, not really.  We are quite young.  Besides, since my Mokuton seems to be unconscious, it’ll probably protect me.  Will you stay here?”

“I guess.  No one’s really expecting me back anyway.  Well, maybe my little brothers are, but they’ll forget about it when I go back tomorrow.”

—————

A trickle of sunlight made it past the trees by the riverbank, and it was all it took to wake Madara.  He was a light sleeper due to a clan habit. It was hardly morning, but Madara wouldn’t be the only member of the Uchiha clan up at that hour.  He knew that, back at his family’s home, his parents and Kazuma would awaken around the same time, though Izuna would be longer. He caught hell for it despite his young age.

For a moment, Madara was confused by his surroundings.  He didn’t know why he was on the grass by a river. Turning his head, he caught sight of another child of the same age, sleeping deeply.  What?!  Why is there a strange child next to me?!  Scrambling to his feet, Madara’s mind raced to comprehend what he was seeing.  He knew he was nearly impossible to sneak up on. Then he remembered what had happened the previous night.  It made a lot more sense in context. However, Madara’s momentary confusion was not without consequence. He’d woken a very tired Hashirama who, it turned out, needed a lot more sleep than Madara did.

Hashirama sat up, rubbing his eyes, “What happened?  Tobirama, settle down. …Wait. Where am I?”

Madara sat down in front of Hashirama, whose eyes widened.  “Oh! I remember now. How long has it been?”

Smiling, then quickly forcing his face into a neutral expression again, Madara answered, “It’s early.  It might as well still be night. I’m just an early riser.”

“Oh.  I’m tired.”

“Then maybe you should sleep more.  It’s not like you’re going to get attacked, since I’m not going back to sleep.”

Hashirama simply flopped back onto the ground and fell asleep once more almost immediately.  He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. Not a soul would ever guess he was a shinobi just by looking.  While he slept, Madara observed the peaceful natural world around them that, as a shinobi, he rarely got a chance to appreciate.  Though, he couldn’t totally relax, having to keep his senses attuned in case of any possible threats. It was not hard to pinpoint the moment when Hashirama woke up.  The aforementioned boy’s chakra spiked wildly. “Hey, hey, Madara!”

Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, Hashirama slammed his hand into Madara’s shoulder.  Spinning around, Madara protested, “Hey!”

Running off, Hashirama called, “Catch me if you can!”

Taking off after him, Madara yelled, “Oh, now you’re going to get it, Hashirama!”

The two of them continued playing their game of tag until eventually both of them fell into the river, when Hashirama fell off a tree branch and pulled Madara down with him.  The two had returned to the shore, soaking wet and panting from the exertion. It was Hashirama who spoke first. “We should probably return to our clans. My clan will come looking for me soon if I don’t go back.”

“We probably should.  See you here again sometime?”

“Yeah, I’ll come here as often as I can!”

“I’ll see you around, then.”

As both Madara and Hashirama left the river, Madara thought maybe he’d made a friend.  He wondered if what he felt around Hashirama was what friendship felt like. He also really did believe he would see Hashirama there in the near future.  Alas, it was not to happen. The two would not see each other even once for another seven years. And when they did see one another once more, Hashirama would have all but forgotten, remembering only that there was a dark-haired boy he’d met by the river once, the reason he always went there.  Madara would remember their first meeting, but he would never mention it to Hashirama. He would pretend he didn’t recognize the kind-hearted Senju boy from seven years before.