Chapter 4: The Birth of A Village

The battlefield where Gojo and Madara had fought was unrecognizable—flattened, scorched, reshaped by forces beyond human comprehension. But from that destruction, something new would rise.

Two men—once sworn enemies—stood before their clans, declaring the impossible.

The Uchiha and Senju had formed an alliance.

And with it, the first-ever Hidden Village would be born.

A New Dawn

Banners of both clans waved in the wind as warriors from both sides gathered in a vast clearing near the Naka River. For generations, they had fought—Uchiha flames burning Senju forests, Senju water drowning Uchiha wrath.

Now, they stood together.

Gojo leaned against a rock, watching the proceedings with a lazy grin. "Huh. Never thought I'd see a war end with a handshake."

Hashirama stood before the assembled warriors, his voice steady and strong. "This land will be our home. No more meaningless bloodshed. No more wars between our clans. From this day forward, we are one."

Murmurs spread through the crowd—some hesitant, others hopeful.

Madara stepped forward, his crimson Sharingan flashing as he surveyed his clan. "We will put our swords away… for now." His tone was controlled, but his eyes told a different story.

Gojo smirked. "Damn, Madara. That almost sounded like optimism."

Madara shot him a sideways glance. "I'd advise you not to test me, Gojo."

Gojo laughed. "Oh, don't worry. I wouldn't dream of it."

The Founding of Konoha

With the Uchiha and Senju at its core, the first Hidden Village took shape.

They called it Konohagakure—The Village Hidden in the Leaves.

Ninjas from smaller clans and wandering warriors flocked to it. A new system began to take root—one where shinobi fought for their village, not just their clan.

Hashirama was chosen as Hokage, the village's leader. His philosophy of unity and protection spread like wildfire.

But not everyone agreed with it.

The Rift Grows

As the village prospered, Madara watched from the shadows.

He had fought for peace. He had fought for the Uchiha. Yet, he felt it in his bones—this system was a trap.

He had seen the way the villagers looked at the Uchiha. How they whispered behind their backs. How the Senju held more influence despite their supposed alliance.

The Uchiha weren't leaders in this new world. They were pawns.

And he would not allow his clan to be used.

One evening, as the sun set over Konoha's unfinished rooftops, Madara stood on a cliffside, arms crossed, watching the village.

Gojo appeared beside him, hands in his pockets. "You planning on brooding up here all night, or are we actually gonna talk?"

Madara didn't look at him. "Do you believe in this system, Gojo?"

Gojo tilted his head. "It's… different. Better than endless war, at least."

Madara's hands tightened into fists. "It's an illusion. The moment we grow comfortable, the Senju will tighten their grip. The Uchiha will be cast aside."

Gojo sighed. "You don't trust Hashirama?"

Madara finally turned to him. "I trust Hashirama more than anyone. But I do not trust the world he wants to create."

Gojo studied him for a moment. "So what now?"

Madara exhaled. Then, for the first time in weeks, he smirked.

"I leave."

The Rogue Uchiha

The next morning, Madara Uchiha was gone.

He left Konoha without a word.

Whispers spread through the village. Some called him a traitor. Others said he was simply following his own path.

Hashirama was devastated. He had fought for this dream, for Madara to be part of it.

Gojo stood by, watching it all unfold.

He had seen this before—when people with too much power couldn't fit into the world around them.

Madara wasn't meant to be a soldier in someone else's vision. He was a force of nature, just like Gojo.

And somehow, Gojo knew—they would meet again.