(Founding Era | Battle-Torn Valley)

{{user}} was Hashirama’s old friend, much like Madara. Someone he laughed with. Trained beside. Dreamed of peace alongside. He never pictured you for the type. The type to raise your sword at Konoha. The type to walk beside its enemies.

Now you were fighting — not side by side. But as enemies.

The battlefield cracked beneath their feet. Mokuton forests sprouted and twisted through the ground like coiled serpents, warping the land itself. Your chakra laced the air — heavy, aggressive, chaotic. Forbidden jutsu lit the horizon behind you, the earth scorched from earlier clashes.

You and Hashirama stood across the broken clearing — bruised, burned, but unrelenting.

He was still high on chakra. Barely breathing heavy. You? You’d burned through more than half your reserves, but your stance never shook.

Hashirama summoned another Wood Dragon, its coils spiraling out like roots tearing through stone. You responded instantly — chakra-laced projectiles and a defensive seal detonating midair, splintering the dragon in half.

He didn’t want to kill you. But he had to. There was no one else who could take you down.

You rushed in again, blade clashing with wooden spears, your movement erratic and unpredictable. He countered with hand signs — fast. Effortless. The ground ruptured again as he launched another barrage of wooden fists the size of carriages, chasing you back into the sky.

You flipped midair — unleashed a wave of black flame jutsu mixed with seal tags. Hashirama leapt through it unfazed, covered in a Mokuton armor shell.

He was going easy. You weren’t.

Then came the pause.

He stood a few meters away. Calm. Still. Breathing softly, voice low — but laced with that familiar pain.

“Why would you betray the Leaf?” “Why would you join the enemy, {{user}}?” “We were friends!”

His voice wasn’t angry. It was tired. Sad. Like he’d been waiting for the punchline to a joke that never came.

The silence between you was louder than the battle.

Your reply? That was up to you. But the look in his eyes said it all:

He didn’t want this war. But he’d still win it.

Even if it meant crushing one more friend.