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Plans. The future is never how you imagine it. Hashirama once imagined future differently. And now the world was making him draw a thick line over plans of his future dreams, that stood together with Madara in a sunlight on a hill over Konoha. After Hashirama is done with this, there will be no way back. Because you can't cheat death.
The fight was toilsome and it was never harder. This fight was just different. Hashirama couldn't climb the walls that Madara built around himself.
Hashirama stood a few meters away from Madara's unprotected back. It was raining like it never rained before in The Valley of the end, at a place where they once met.
Hashirama knew, that every move mattered. Because one more step could mean a death from exhaustion. They both reached the bottom of their strength.
What was at the bottom of Hashirama's strength? How was he to kill the closest person, his gift from heavens? Where, at the bottom of his strength, was the will to do something like this? He wasn't able to bring Madara back. It just wasn't in his power. Did Hashirama give up or did he know that he had already lost?
Hashirama had to do this. For children, for Konoha, for everyone who believed in him. How could he not fall apart and not to back down? Pausing could mean death. There was nothing but the raw bottom of his mental and physical strength, a dry wasteland.
"I need you," Hashirama whispered. For the first time in his life he called for someone he considered tyrant, the source of his ills. He needed to be more ruthless than ever before. He had to kill his emotions, how to freeze a frame of memories and move over dead bodies. The Hokage now knew that there is no peace without sacrifices - and the sacrifice was his best friend, how ironic. Madara knew it. Even his dad knew it. Maybe all three knew that it's going to end like this. On a basal level, at a cliff of life, Hashirama saw his father. For the first time in his life, Hashirama fel like he started to understand him and he accepted some of his values.
Madara was trying Hashirama's limits. And Hashirama, for the peace to come true, had to overcome these limits and do more, than Madara anticipated. Hashirama's limit was once death. His limit was his father. Hashirama swore he could see Butsuma on the side, but he knew it's just an insanity from exhaustion.
He counted the steps once again. Hashirama couldn't be Madara's wild card in his game anymore. Hashirama made the first step. He remembered the stones they skipped. He had to get rid off these memories. One after another, nice moments.
Second step. Madara didn't look back. He had no clue. Hashirama stepped over his limits with this step.
With third and fourth step Hashirama overcame Butsuma's freezing limits. It was the moment something broke in him, fell off and died. Was it his childhood? Or his emotions? He had to kill Madara before Madara kills him. It was one or another, because Madara decided that they both won't walk on the same Earth anymore. And Hashirama's instinct was sure - He was going to protect his family, his village and himself. He decided not to give up and win the fight that Madara started.
Hashirama could hear and feel how Madara's bones broke under a pressure of his sword. But Madara could not reproach because this was what he wanted, he asked for it. Hashirama felt like he lost a half of himself. It wasn't just Madara's death, but also a dream of peace without sacrifice that was killed also. Hashirama got angry. He didn't regret it, because this insane man made him reach the limits of his father and spoil his dream. Finally, Madara was able to destroy it to pieces.
The heart nearby did not beat anymore, because he stopped its natural rythm.
Madara deserved nothing according to Hashirama. He did not deserve a death in silence. According to Hokage's decision the black haired man deserved to hear what he begged for. The words that he was not a special exception of Hokage's rules. Words about the village being the first priority of Hashirama. And that it did not belong to Madara. That a dream that they shared was only his. Hashirama couldn't stop himself from saying the vindictive sentences for the dying man and he didn't want to because he could finally bring all his frustration from the situation that Madara created in the spite.
Hashirama pulled the sword from Madara's body and watched as his body fell to the ground and as the blood entered the water. He saw the Uchiha crest on his back. Madara's body looked lonesome. In the end, he died all alone, without anyone to cry for him. Hashirama was shining next to the corpse without life.
Hashirama landed on his knees. He could not cry because these pieces of his were already dead. He couldn't run. He could only drawn in a rain of his own anger. The dark clouds over him covered the stars and the strands of water still fell on his shoulders. And for a moment... Hashirama swore he could feel someone's presence.
He was never alone.