As Second Tsuchikage 40

Chapter 40: Awakening

Boom!

Those words slammed into Tobirama Senju’s mind like a tailed beast bomb detonating at point-blank range. A sharp ringing filled his ears, drowning out all other sound, like thunder exploding from a clear blue sky.

“What did you say?” Tobirama’s pupils trembled as he stared at the jōnin, his voice unsteady, trembling between denial and panic.

“The clan leader... the clan leader has fallen in battle!!” the Senju jōnin cried, his voice cracking as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Tobirama stumbled back, grabbing the edge of the Hokage’s desk for balance. The room seemed to tilt around him, as if reality itself had been knocked off its axis. His knuckles whitened as he clutched the wood, breath caught in his throat.

The other clan heads had heard every word. Seasoned veterans, none of them missed a syllable. And once the meaning sank in, every face turned ghostly pale.

“No! Impossible! Absolutely impossible!”

“My big brother is invincible! There’s no way he could’ve been killed by those people!”

“Even if he couldn’t win, he should’ve been able to retreat safely...”

“He must’ve faked his death to escape. He has to have! He must have!”

Tobirama muttered to himself in growing desperation, knuckles grinding into the desk, fingers digging so hard into the surface that the wood began to warp under the pressure. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, drowning out the room's stunned silence.

…

Meanwhile, deep in a hidden underground cave,

Two bodies lay side by side, still and breathless. One belonged to Madara Uchiha. The other, Hashirama Senju.

“Incredible... I never imagined... the reincarnations of Asura and Indra would both be slain by a mere mortal...”

Black Zetsu lingered in the shadows, his gaze locked on the corpses before him. He hadn’t moved for some time, frozen in disbelief. No matter how many centuries he had schemed and adjusted his plans, he had never once foreseen this.

The legendary avatars of Asura and Indra, demi-gods reborn throughout the ages, were dead. Killed not by each other, nor by some divine intervention, but by a single man. It would have been remarkable enough if just one had fallen… but both?

His grand plan had just been shattered.

The resurrection of his mother would now have to be postponed. Who knew how long it would take before Asura and Indra were reborn again?

He exhaled a long, frustrated sigh.

“That damn bandaged freak... Jumping out at the worst time with his little scheme to assassinate Madara... You could’ve just lived your life quietly, let Madara steamroll you. Would that have killed you?”

Black Zetsu cursed Mū in his heart, seething. If that meddlesome man hadn’t interfered, everything would’ve gone according to plan. A mere mortal had flipped the entire game board.

“Why couldn’t you just stay in the background like the rest of your kind? Why would you ever try to go against the fated man of an era? Is it so hard to just be part of the scenery?”

Even as he fumed in silence, something else stirred the cave. A faint sound, almost imperceptible at first, rose softly into the air.

Breathing.

Black Zetsu’s eyes snapped open, alert. Someone was alive?

He immediately melted into the earth, disappearing without a trace.

Seconds passed. The breathing grew louder, steadier.

Then, Madara Uchiha’s eyes opened.

One eye remained intact, gleaming faintly. The other had turned a dull, lifeless gray.

“Haa... haa...” He gasped for air, chest rising and falling. Then, with sudden force, he sat up.

“Those fools didn’t deal with my body... Ha! Don’t they say the fate never seals off all paths?”

Looking down at his own hands, Madara let out a quiet, satisfied laugh.

The technique he had relied on, a forbidden jutsu passed down through the Uchiha clan, was Izanagi.

And the moment he had activated it?

It was the instant he and Tobirama had been caught in that massive, chaotic chain explosion. Amid the chaos of fire and sealing tags, he had slipped the jutsu into place.

Now, he had cheated death once again.

He hated to admit it, but back then, he had truly been cornered. Every trump card had been spent, every tactic exhausted. That final move had been a gamble, a desperate bet that Tobirama would at least preserve his body and have it buried in Konoha. It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was the only sliver of hope left.

But then Hashirama had appeared on the battlefield.

The moment Madara sensed him, he had relaxed completely. With Hashirama present, there was no question. His body would be treated with reverence, preserved without fail. Even if the entire village had wanted him destroyed, Hashirama would have stopped it.

“Hm...? This is... Hashirama?!”

Madara’s eyes widened as they fell upon the breathless form lying beside him. It wasn’t a trick of the light, nor some illusion. It was truly Hashirama Senju, lifeless, cold, and still.

His expression darkened.

“Don’t tell me Hashirama was killed by those people too...”

A storm of thoughts brewed behind his eyes. The idea that Tobirama, that cold, calculating man, could have betrayed even his own brother... it was sickening. But no, something felt off. That wasn’t Tobirama’s way. Ruthless as he was, Tobirama wouldn’t do that.

Then only one other possibility remained.

A figure surfaced in Madara’s mind. A man wrapped in bandages.

“Unbelievable... to think both of us fell into the hands of the same person...”

Madara clenched his teeth, a cold glint flashing in his lone remaining eye. He thought of Mū. Back then, he’d felt it, the urge to kill that man was strong. If it hadn’t been for Hashirama’s interference, Mū would’ve died by his hand.

Now, both he and Hashirama had fallen to that very man.

Madara’s heart burned with regret. He should have ignored Hashirama’s hesitation, should have followed his instincts and erased that threat when he had the chance.

“But still...”

He looked around. The rough stone walls, the stale, cold air... this was an underground cave.

Something didn’t add up.

Even if someone had prepared a burial site for him, why would he and Hashirama be laid to rest side by side? The thought gnawed at him. What had happened during the time he was unconscious?

“Seems a lot happened while I was out...”

Madara’s eyes narrowed slightly, sharp and calculating. Nothing about this situation felt ordinary. Whatever had occurred, it was beyond what he could piece together just yet.

The outside world, the movements of Konoha, the balance of power... he needed time to understand it all.

As for revenge? That would have to wait.

With only one eye and his body still recovering, charging back into battle would be suicide. If he rushed now, he’d simply die again, and there wouldn’t be another chance.

He had to disappear. Regain his strength. Wait and rebuild.

Turning to Hashirama, he slowly knelt down beside the body.

“Hashirama... I will avenge you. One day, I’ll create the perfect world.”

His voice was low, firm with resolve.

Then, without hesitation, he cut off a piece of Hashirama’s flesh and pressed it into his own wound. Splurt. Blood mingled with blood.

This was something he had long been curious about.

The Uchiha stone tablet had spoken of it: Combine the two and attain the power of all creation. Yin and Yang. Uchiha and Senju.

So what would truly happen... if he and Hashirama became one?

Chakra flared around him as he gathered his strength. Then, cradling Hashirama’s body in his arms, he turned and disappeared into the darkness of the cave.

The echo of his departure faded.

And then, from the shadows, Black Zetsu emerged.

“Heh... hahaha... It seems this generation’s Indra reincarnation isn’t stupid after all. He actually left a backup plan.”

Black Zetsu let out a low, wicked chuckle.

During the chaos, he had snatched up both corpses, using his ability to slip through earth and shadow unnoticed. At the time, it was nothing more than a precaution, an insurance policy. Who would’ve thought it would end up saving Madara Uchiha’s life?

He had expected to wait decades for another reincarnation cycle. But now... things had changed. There was still a chance.

Still, he couldn’t reveal himself yet. Not now.

Madara might be many things, but he wasn’t stupid. If Black Zetsu showed up suddenly, with no explanation, it would only arouse suspicion and make things worse. He needed a reason, a believable one. Something that would justify his presence in Madara’s future without tipping his hand too early.

So, for now, he melted silently into the earth once more, trailing after Madara from a distance.

...

Meanwhile, inside the Allied Shinobi Forces’ medical tent,

Mū slowly opened his eyes.

The faint scent of antiseptic filled his nose. His body felt sluggish, his arm heavy. Looking down, he noticed fresh bandages wrapped around him. Resting against that same arm, fast asleep, was Onoki.

Mū blinked, then gave a small nudge.

“Mm...”

Onoki stirred. His eyelids fluttered, and he lifted his head groggily. When his eyes landed on Mū, awake and alive, his expression brightened in an instant. Joy lit up his face, and tears welled up uncontrollably.

“Huh? Sensei, you’re awake!”

Mū groaned faintly, rubbing his forehead. He gave a small nod before asking in a hoarse voice, “What’s the current situation? How long was I out? And—”

Before he could finish the sentence, Onoki lunged at him with a wail.

“Waaaah! Sensei! You’re finally awake! I thought you were going to die!”

Onoki clung tightly to Mū’s arm, sobbing loudly, the kind of crying that came from days of repressed fear and relief flooding all at once.

Mū let out a sigh. He was exhausted... and now he had a crying child stuck to him.