Although it was not very stable, with the help of [Sage Mode], Hashirama performed another large-scale Wood Release Ninjutsu effortlessly.
"Wood Release: Wood Dragon Technique."
Though the wooden dragon was over a hundred meters long, its diameter was only about ten meters-yet its power should not be underestimated.
It coiled like some colossal rope and bound the Nine-Tailed Fox-who had been wrestling with the Wooden Arhat-as tightly as a dumpling in string.
ROAR!!!
Caught by the sudden assault, the Nine-Tails struggled furiously, but it was futile; Hashirama's Wood Release was not merely wood.
Entwining, restraining enemies, wide-reaching strikes, brutal power, chakra-absorption to reinforce sealing...
Hashirama's Wood Release was basically nature's answer to the Swiss Army Knife. It had nearly every advantage imaginable, save for its gluttonous chakra consumption-and that wasn't even much of a drawback for him.
Hashirama had been born into the Senju clan, known for superhuman chakra reserves and physical massiveness.
And so the Nine-Tails was trapped; soon only its head remained mobile.
Yet as the strongest of the Tailed Beasts, the Nine-Tails-even while under Madara's control-still carried pride etched into its bones. Beyond the Sage of Six Paths, it had bowed to no one. Even defenseless but for its head, it attempted to unleash the Tailed Beast Bomb on Hashirama.
Seeing the beast's stubbornness, Hashirama didn't indulge it. He controlled the Wooden Arhat beneath him to pummel the Nine-Tails' head repeatedly-not only crumbling the Half-Formed Bomb but stunning the fox into unconsciousness.
BANG!
Dozens of meters tall, the beast's collapse shook the earth and coughed up clouds of dust.
Now looking over his handiwork, Hashirama suddenly recalled that Madara had been standing atop the Nine-Tails' head moments earlier.
"Oops… how could I have forgotten about Madara? That's not right..."
Only then did he remember: hadn't the headquarters also been attacked?
"Don't tell me... the Madara I've been fighting isn't even the original body-but the one infiltrating the base is?"
Connecting the dots, Hashirama snapped his gaze toward the command post.
Just in time to see Madara manipulate [Susanoo] to snatch Thousand Stars-no intent to continue fighting visible at all.
"This…"
Turning once again toward the Uchiha front, Hashirama realized the dense woodland packed with troops just minutes ago was empty. A ghost town.
Even with his scatterbrained tendencies, Hashirama grasped Madara's true goal.
"So the target was Akira afterall… I really underestimated his value."
Scanning his allies, he saw them just now dispersing the thick fog, bewildered and frantically searching for enemies. They had no idea their "home" had been stolen right out from under them.
He had lost this time. Madara had played the long game well.
Yet Hashirama made no move to chase them-Madara had captured Akira alive, not slaughtered him. That alone gave Hashirama hope.
He didn't know what Madara's endgame was… but as long as Akira lived, there was always the chance of saving him.
"And…"
Looking toward his headquarters-now eerily intact-he whispered his next suspicion aloud.
"Mito might know what's really happening... I don't believe Akira left without some kind of failsafe."
---
"I'm not! I didn't! Don't talk nonsense!"
Akira awoke with that panicked shout, heart hammering. He'd had the weirdest dream. In it, the original Madara had kidnapped him and declared him his… wife? And then, on their wedding night, Mito had barged in demanding answers.
Caught somewhere between ridiculousness and terror, Akira bolted upright.
Only to find himself in strange but oddly familiar surroundings-this place was the stone plateau where Madara and Hashirama once clashed. Later, it would become the famous Hokage Rock.
"You're awake?" came Madara's regal, faintly androgynous tone-a little too smooth to be purely masculine, tinged with that silkiness only anime 'queens' could pull off.
Akira's stomach clenched. No dream. This was very much happening.
"It's you..."
"Yes," Madara replied calmly, smiling.
Watching Hashirama's entire alliance collapse under her calculated chaos had felt better than victory. It was vindication.
Akira's brows knit together in pure confusion.
"...Why?"
"Oh? There's still things you don't know?"
Madara chuckled and tilted her head coyly. "There's even a prize if you guess right."
Between the unexpected warmth in Madara's mood and the surreal developments, Akira felt... oddly flattered? He'd expected violence, not this strange courtship vibe.
Madara already knew about the scrolls-Akira's most closely guarded secrets were compromised. And if Madara's ambition outpaced emotional complexity, she might very well coerce marriage for intel... or worse: play out some twisted 'imprisonment fantasy.'
Akira flushed at the thought, then mentally slapped himself.
NO! Focus!
Trying to stay cool, he shrugged with theatrical nonchalance. "why you tied me up? I was gonna surrender anyway. You didn't just want to... talk, did you?"
Madara's grin widened.
"That's right. You guessed it."
Crossing the space between them, she dropped down next to him. Her shoulders, usually drawn with swagger and violence, now sagged beneath invisible weight.
"Madara?" Akira asked warily.
"I came to thank you," she interrupted flatly.
"I've been... under pressure," she confessed. "Family... war... disappointment in my dream-world slipping through my fingers…"
"There were days," she admitted, "I wanted to just die out there in the fight... but I kept surviving. Got stronger. And I've still not beaten Hashirama. Never. People say we're equals-but I know. He's always holding back."
"I couldn't stand it."
"After seeing you..." she trailed, shaking her head, "I realized I had control. I could make one choice that wasn't warfare."
Akira stared, stunned silent.
In that moment, Madara-Uchiha Madara!-seemed tragically human. And strangely beautiful.
"Will I ever win?" she asked flatly.
Akira said nothing, too afraid of giving the wrong answer. The silence spoke volumes, and Madara nodded sadly in reply.
"I'll win eventually," she vowed to herself aloud. "Again and again... until I stun you."
"But for now…" She stood up, brushing imaginary dust from her robes. "As clan head, I must always repay loyalty."
"Your prize requires you to close your eyes."
Akira hesitated… then obeyed.
"What kind of reward?"
Silence.
His thoughts ran wild. A technique? A tailed beast? The Sharingan?
Soft. Warm. A gentle pressure touched his brow.
Madara's lips lingered for just one second longer than necessary in that kiss on his skin, her fingers brushing his jaw.
She said nothing.
And Akira's next breath caught in his throat, confused by the flutter in his chest that refused to be ignored…
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