Naruto: Starting as the Third Hokage with Tears in His Eyes

In the early morning in Kirigakure, the sea breeze carries a refreshing scent, its salty taste mingled with the subtle sweetness of newly sprouted vegetation.

On the flagship's deck, Hiruzen Sarutobi was not wearing his heavy Hokage robes, but only a light black casual outfit.

He leaned on the railing and gazed into the distance, watching as a magnificent golden hue forcefully tore through the thick clouds where the sea met the horizon.

The light bursts through a slit, spreads across the surface, and then converges into a blazing, fiery circle poised to burst forth.

Behind him, Uchiha Shisui stood as still as a shadow, his gaze following the Hokage's eyes, lingering briefly on the rising sun before returning to Hiruzen Sarutobi's back. That back wasn't particularly imposing, yet it seemed capable of supporting an entire sky.

"Still water".

Hiruzen Sarutobi did not turn around; his voice remained calm.

"Yes, Lord Hokage."

"Look."

Hiruzen Sarutobi stretched out his finger and pointed to the sun that had already risen above the sea. Its light dyed the entire sea area into a brilliant gold, and even the slightly dilapidated Kirigakure village, which was docked at the port, was covered with a layer of sacred glory.

"Another great sun is about to rise."

The emotion in his tone was hard to discern—whether it was joy or something else entirely.

Shisui looked in the direction he pointed and thought the sunrise was indeed magnificent, but he didn't understand the deeper meaning behind the Hokage's words.

He simply felt that wherever the Hokage was, the rising sun seemed to hold extra hope.

……

At the same moment, in Konoha.

Unlike the sunrise over Kirigakure, which is full of new hope, a heavy, blood-red setting sun is slowly sinking into the western mountains.

The last rays of sunlight struggled to penetrate the window of the oldest mansion deep within the ancestral land of the Uchiha clan, casting a narrow, dim strip of light onto the rustic tatami mats.

Within the band of light, countless tiny dust particles danced silently, like the last unease and restlessness of this era.

The air was still and heavy, like solidified amber, enveloping everyone in the room, making even breathing a cautious affair.

On his sickbed, the man whose name alone could send shivers down the spine of the entire ninja world, Uchiha Madara, lay quietly. His once wild, lion-like black hair had turned white, spreading dryly across the pillow, and the deep lines etched on his face were the most merciless marks of time.

His eyes were closed, his breathing so faint it was almost imperceptible; only the slight rise and fall of his chest proved that the flame of life in this legend had not yet been completely extinguished.

Hashirama Senju knelt beside the sickbed, motionless.

His signature long, straight black hair was casually draped behind him. His face, which used to always have a touch of naivety and could make the entire Hidden Leaf Village bask in the sunlight, was now filled with a sense of vicissitude and weariness that did not match his age.

He simply watched his dearest friend quietly, his hands resting on his knees, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.

Not far away by the window, Tobirama Senju stood with his arms crossed and his face expressionless.

His gaze wasn't fixed on the sickbed, but rather through the window, scrutinizing the sunset that was about to be swallowed by darkness.

In his sharp red eyes, there was not a trace of emotion, only an extremely calm light flashing, as if he were calculating the precise time of sunset and its impact on the village's sunlight tomorrow.

Is the complete end of an era a blessing or a curse for Konoha?

His brain was working at high speed, assessing all the possibilities.

Further out, Uchiha Fugaku, Uchiha Tokumitsu, Uchiha Yogen, and other core members of the Uchiha clan stood like statues in the shadows of the room.

They didn't even dare to breathe loudly, but instead gazed at the supreme totem of their people lying on the couch with a complex mix of reverence, tension, and sorrow.

This is the end of a myth, and they are the final witnesses.

Fugaku Uchiha's Adam's apple bobbed, and he felt his throat tighten and dry.

As the captain of the garrison, he had seen countless grand scenes and faced the most ferocious enemies, but never before had he felt such a sense of oppression from the depths of his soul.

This sense of oppression does not come from power, but from time itself.

Suddenly, Madara Uchiha, lying on his sickbed, twitched his eyelids almost imperceptibly.

He seemed to be lost in a long dream.

In his dream, he and Hashirama were skipping stones on the Nanka River, full of youthful vigor, discussing their future village.

The scene shifts to the Valley of the End, where the fully-formed Susanoo clashes fiercely with the peak of the Wood Golem—the most exhilarating dance of his life.

Then, the scene became bizarre and surreal.

He saw that junior named Hiruzen Sarutobi, and saw him use an unbelievable method to unite those families that should have been enemies with each other.

He saw the Uchiha clan members using the Great Fireball Technique to burn chakra concrete for the construction team; he saw the Hyuga's Byakugan become the highest standard for engineering quality inspection; he even saw the Akimichi clan's secret technique being used to analyze the body condition of Konoha dolphins...

All of this was beyond his comprehension.

A world without hatred, only infighting, where people argue heatedly over whose barbecue tastes better or whose road construction is faster.

"Oh……"

A very faint, self-deprecating laugh escaped from deep within Ban's throat.

Throughout his life, he claimed to have seen through human nature and the essence of the world, which enabled him to devise such a grand plan.

In the end, I found myself like a fool stubbornly standing on an old map, trying to find a new continent.

It turns out that he had never truly understood this world.

"spot!"

Hashirama Senju noticed his best friend's movement immediately. He leaned down, his voice hoarse.

"You're awake?"

Madara Uchiha slowly opened his eyes, and those once domineering Rinnegan eyes now appeared somewhat cloudy.

He didn't look at Hashirama, but instead laboriously rolled his eyes, scanning the room with his gaze.

I saw Tobirama by the window with a "I knew it would be troublesome" expression on his face.

They saw the Uchiha juniors standing in the shadows, their eyes filled with awe and fear.

His gaze lingered on Uchiha Fugaku's face for a moment. He had some impression of this young man; he was outstanding and possessed a pride that rivaled anyone else's, yet he had integrated that pride well into the village.

Good.

He's much better than he was back then.

"Madara..."

Hashirama grasped Madara's withered, bony hand, the warmth of his palm bringing him a sense of peace. "Don't think so much. Your life has been eventful enough, with wars, building villages, defections, and returns. The village is doing very well now, extremely well, as you've seen with your own eyes."

Hashirama's words were as simple and straightforward as ever, even a little clumsy.

But it was this clumsy sincerity that made Ban's body, which had been tense all his life, seem to relax completely at this moment.

"yes……"

Ban's voice was as light as a breeze, "It's so brilliant...it's like a joke..."

Tobirama Senju, who had been silent all along, finally turned around and calmly said, "Your bodily functions are rapidly declining, and your cellular activity is almost zero. According to my calculations, you have at most three minutes left."

"Tobirama!"

Hashirama turned around and roared, his eyes already moist.

"Alright, brother, you can still see him if you want to."

Instead of wasting time on pointless sentimentality, consider what needs to be said.