Madara didn’t expect to see her again. Not after that summit. Not after she said she never stopped loving him.

But then came the whispers. The truth he wished was a lie.

She was pregnant.

With Hashirama’s child.

His best friend. His rival. His brother in all but blood.

When Madara saw her again, her figure had changed—softened by the life growing inside. But her eyes still held the storm.

“Why him?” Madara asked, voice cracked and quiet. “Out of everyone... why him?”

She stared at him, pain spilling behind her calm. “Because he reminded me of you. Of the warmth you buried.”

“That’s not fair,” he growled, fists clenched.

“Neither was you letting me go,” she replied, stepping closer. “Do you think I wanted this? That every kick I feel doesn’t make me wonder what our child would’ve looked like?”

Madara couldn’t breathe. The world spun.

He reached out—then hesitated. “Do you love him?”

“I’m trying to,” she said. “But it’s hard… when I still love you.”

And just like that—he was burning again.

In love. In pain.

In the ashes… of what they could’ve been.