Work Text:
Madara sat cliffside watching the sun set over the village. The entire scope of the land glowed in a golden haze. The nights were still warm and he felt he could see the remaining rays of light hit his cheeks. But there was a certain source of heat present that made the summer air around his space feel like it was simmering over embers.
Besides his ear, Hashirama laughed. But Madara had long stopped hearing what his friend had been going on about. He only listened to the way it sounded. Cheerful chatter and punctuations of excitement clued Madara into what sort of message Hashirama was trying to explain. Madara laughed in response to Hashirama’s laugh rather than his actual words. Hashirama turned his face towards Madara, recognizing a very distinct air about that laugh that clued him in on Madara not paying attention.
Madara noticed that the other had stopped talking and the quiet made him turn to see Hashirama looking at him. They met eyes for a moment then Hashirama looked back out over the village.
“Did you ever think we’d reach this point?” he asked.
Madara remained silent as he stared at Hashirama overlooking The Leaf. Hashirama was smiling, and Madara could feel the pride and joy radiating off of him. Madara turned his gaze back to the view and basked in it for a while.
“No,” Madara admitted. “Did you?”
Hashirama grinned as he announced, “I never had a doubt.”
Madara couldn’t help but smile at the man’s self assuredness. The confidence felt so infectious that Madara almost felt foolish for having ever doubted. Of course Hashirama would hold onto the faith of their promise. But Madara questioned whether things had just so happened to align for his wishes, or if Hashirama had somehow managed to bend everything else around it and create this.
A flickering fire seemed to sit in his core at all times. His chakra nature was fire, and he burned with one his entire life in every regard. He related the different forms of it to every sensation. Blazing and wild with thrill, oppressively hot and anxious, or moltent and with affection. But it was the way fire danced that felt like utter joy.
Hashirama’s mokuton intrigued Madara. It’s nature ever growing and taking root in the surrounding area. It sprouted not only in his ninjutsu but his very being as a person; it was the earth and trees that released the air they breathed and the very life that fire consumed. But it didn't sit right with him. No, Hashirama was not the dirt or sprouts or pollen, but a different source of life with much more intensity and spirit than fire. The source of life itself, the sun.
Madara stared at the village, remembering the day he first dared to envision it. A humble hope sparked by the bright encouragement of his friend. He breathed in deep, feeling the flicker in his chest as his flame whipped around.
Fire seemed to have a life of its own as well. It moved in celebration and excitement that seemed reminiscent of what life could be. He felt the limbs of fire extend up and wave as though reaching. But it did not reach for branches and other things easily within its grasp. It reached up towards the sun itself. Perhaps searching to go back to the source, or perhaps dancing in worship of its source of life.