"Where is this place?"
Black Zetsu couldn't quite place the location.
"When is this?"
He couldn't figure out the time either.
"Am I… really in the Shinobi World a thousand years later?"
A deep unease crept into Black Zetsu's thoughts.
Meeting an old acquaintance in a distant land is usually a cause for joy.
But meeting someone who absolutely should not exist, in a time they absolutely should not appear, tends to stir not delight—but a terrifying sense that something has gone deeply wrong.
Just like now.
Black Zetsu couldn't shake the feeling that his reality was unraveling.
What in the world is going on?
He had truly lived for over a millennium—stoking wars with calculated care, promoting the ideals of medical ninjutsu with tireless effort. He was certain of the time.
So...
Had he simply lost his mind?
How else could he explain seeing Emiya Shihara here?
That man belonged to an era more than a thousand years past. How could he be walking through the shinobi world of today?
Had he lived too long? Was his ancient mind fracturing at last?
Black Zetsu crouched in the shadows, his gaze fixed on Emiya Shihara, the whisper of doubt gnawing at his sanity.
No matter how he turned it over in his mind, there was no way Emiya Shihara could be standing before him.
And yet…
Here he was.
Alive and well—seemingly thriving in this modern age.
"Let's focus on shifting the patient's emotional burden for now."
Emiya Shihara spoke with calm gentleness, giving no indication that he had sensed Uchiha Madara lurking in the shadows—or that Black Zetsu might be close at hand, hidden beside him.
As a medical ninja, Emiya Shihara remained devoted to his duty even in this unfamiliar age, paying close attention to both the physical and emotional health of his patients.
"Killing his friend has left him in deep pain."
"As a family member, it's important that he finds a new emotional anchor, as soon as possible…"
While he spoke, Emiya Shihara watched Tobirama Senju out of the corner of his eye—testing to see if the man could detect Madara and Black Zetsu nearby.
But…
Tobirama showed no sign of alarm.
Though famed for his extraordinary sensory prowess, there was little need to invoke such techniques within the well-guarded heart of the Hidden Leaf Village.
Besides, Tobirama had yet to master the cursed seal gifted to him by Emiya Shihara. He was unable to use his chakra freely for the time being.
"Let me think…"
Tobirama frowned, searching for a way to divert his brother's attention: "Compared to that devil Madara, my brother definitely cares more about the people in the village…"
He understood his brother well. The answer came swiftly.
"Then we'll have him spend more time with the children of the village. Those children… they're the future he truly wants to protect."
"That's a good idea."
Emiya Shihara nodded in approval, his tone earnest. "During this time, I'll do everything I can to find a way to prolong his life."
"Thank you."
Tobirama exhaled, just a little.
He didn't understand what methods Shihara might try, but he still hoped—desperately—that something could be done to save his brother.
Still…
He had to prepare for the worst.
"I couldn't ask this in the hospital just now…"
Tobirama's tone grew serious, his sharp gaze cutting through the evening gloom. "Lord Shihara, there's something I need to know."
"If…"
"If you fail to find a cure…"
He crossed his arms, voice slow but unwavering.
"How much time does my brother have left?"
The night wind was hushed and still.
The street itself seemed to pause, holding its breath.
Whether it was Tobirama standing before Emiya Shihara, or Madara Uchiha hidden in the shadows, both men froze in that moment.
To Madara, Senju Hashirama must live.
Because only then could he—after seizing the power of creation itself—prove to his old friend that his vision for the world was the right one. He needed Hashirama to bear witness to the path he had chosen.
To Tobirama, his elder brother must live.
Because only with Hashirama's overwhelming strength had they been able to unify the great clans, seize fertile lands, and establish a new order between the ninja and the state.
If Hashirama were to die…
The entire shinobi world would plunge into chaos.
Tobirama was not a man who left the future to chance. Emotionally, he couldn't accept his brother's death—but rationally, he knew he had to be ready.
"Ten years."
Emiya Shihara spoke with quiet precision.
"If I can't find a solution… even if he never fights again, his body likely won't last more than a decade."
"Ten years…"
The weight of it settled heavily in Tobirama's chest.
Ten years.
It sounded long.
But for someone in the prime of life, like Hashirama, it was mercilessly short. And for a fledgling village like Konoha, still finding its footing, it was nowhere near enough.
Tobirama always prepared for the worst.
As the village's de facto leader, he could not allow their dream to collapse the moment his brother died.
He had to find a way…
A way for Konoha to endure, even after Hashirama's final breath.
Even though the clans of Konoha outwardly followed the Senju name, most of them only did so because of his brother's unmatched strength and stature.
When Hashirama was gone…
There was no telling how long their loyalty would last. Many clans still thought of themselves as separate—proud of their surnames. They had yet to truly see themselves as shinobi of Konoha.
Clearly…
A plan must be forged, and fast.
Tobirama's eyes narrowed with quiet resolve.
He rarely revealed his thoughts to anyone but his brother, merely nodding toward Shihara with a calmness that masked his inner turmoil—as if ten years were a trivial concern.
"I understand."
As he turned and began walking toward the Hokage Tower, his pace quickened. He spoke without looking back:
"If Lord Shihara will be staying as our guest in Konoha, there may be inconveniences. I'll have Sasuke and a few Anbu accompany you starting tomorrow. Should you need anything, don't hesitate to ask…"
"It's fine."
Shihara's reply was warm and carefree, as if this foreign time didn't trouble him at all. "If possible, I'd like to see more of this era…"
"I hope…"
A look of gentle solemnity came over his face.
"That I may find someone in this time worthy of inheriting the legacy of medical ninjutsu."
"You will."
Tobirama nodded firmly.
An ancient healer, seeking a disciple to carry his torch?
That was good news for Konoha.
While their medical ninja were competent, none came close to matching the legendary skills of Emiya Shihara.
Even from their brief interactions, Tobirama could tell—the man carried with him countless secret arts of healing, techniques long lost to the wars of the Warring States Period.
Their footsteps faded down the road.
Once they were gone, Madara Uchiha silently emerged from the shadows, gazing after them.
"Ten years, huh…"
His voice was a whisper as he turned once more toward the Konoha Hospital, melting back into the night.
But…
Black Zetsu did not follow.