Meanwhile, Ashina was also lost in thought for a while at the time, but for a different reason.
His thoughts churned like a storm, heavy and suffocating even in spirit form, as soon as he was brought back mentally more and more, and those painful memories slowly resurfaced.
It had been years since he last awoke, and the pain came rushing back every time, burning through him like a curse etched into the soul.
Regret. Guilt. Fury.
He could not even escape it in death.
At the end of his life, he had finally understood the truth.
The Uzumaki had been swindled by Konoha.
Betrayed.
For a month, they had fought, seals stacked upon seals, barriers that bent but did not break.
They had endured, hoping desperately for aid.
Land of Whirlpools was just across the water from Fire Country.
Surely Konoha could not have failed to notice.
Surely their allies, their so-called brothers, would come.
But no help ever came.
One by one, his "children" fell, their red hair matted with blood, their chants of fūinjutsu drowned under fire and steel.
They fought bravely to the end.
And he, their patriarch, could only watch his lineage collapse in a sea of screams.
That was when Ashina realized how muddleheaded he had been in his older age.
Once, during the Warring States, he had been among the strongest men alive, his mind sharp, his spirit unbending.
But in the years that followed, he had softened, grown too peaceful.
He had believed too much in dreams of peace and friendship.
Hashirama's charisma. Tobirama's cunning. Their promises of unity. Their bond through Mito.
All of it had blinded him.
The Uzumaki had poured their trust into Konoha.
Shared their secrets, sold their seals cheap, even built temples on Konoha's soil filled with sacred Shiki Fūjin masks, ready to be used in their "ally's" defense.
Ashina had called it wisdom at the time.
Now he could only call it what it truly was: foolishness.
Weakness.
'Cuckoldry' dressed as diplomacy.
What had they received in return?
Empty words.
Symbols painted on flak jackets.
A marriage that meant nothing when the blood started flowing.
When the knives came out, Konoha shut its gates.
They knew the attack was coming.
Ashina was certain of it now.
They knew, and they let it happen, because right before then, they swindled them one last time for that young girl.
Meanwhile, no warning, no aid, not even a whisper to let the Uzumaki prepare an escape or backup of some sort, at least.
They sacrificed them willingly to avoid provoking the four other villages before the WW2.
Just took Kushina, the clan's most talented youth, under a benign guise of "alliance."
In reality, they wanted only a new jinchūriki for their beast for the upcoming decades, once Mito's time ended soon at that time.
They watched Uzushiogakure burn, but they secured their prize before the fire finished at least. Brutal.
Ashina's soul quaked.
'They took everything. And I, fool that I was, let it happen. I should have known better. I should have known Konoha's promises were lies.'
'If those brothers could even bury their own Senju identity in favor of their ideal 'village,' and its 'unity,' why would they not discard us first chance they had?'
He wanted to tear his own soul apart with rage.
No, worse than rage. Hatred.
Hatred for Konoha more than even the ones who swung the blades.
Hatred for himself most of all.
'I will never forgive them. Not Konoha, not their Hokage, not even that woman Mito, my younger cousin, who chose her husband over her people.'
'I curse them with every fiber of what I am. And I vow, no, I swear, to see the Uzumaki live again. I sealed myself here for that purpose. For that chance.'
The last words cracked with the weight of centuries of his clan.
'Even if I must crawl out of the dirt with my bare hands, I will see my clan rise again.'
...
Kimimaro eventually returned to the present and waited, but the voice didn't continue.
Instead, the air around the seal pulsed faintly, like a flame guttering low. He didn't need sensory precision to notice it; the soul inside was trembling, slipping somewhere deeper.
Kimimaro's lips curved faintly.
"Your seal flickered just now. Even in death, you get lost in memories. Must be suffocating, carrying them that long."
The reply came slowly, raw and jagged, as if dragged from a wound that never closed.
"…Memories? No. Regrets. I trusted too much. And for that, my people were butchered. A thousand years of my clan's legacy was lost in my own hands, during my own reign..."
The voice hardened, like iron scraping.
"I should have known better. I was patriarch. It was my duty to see through their lies, even if everyone else, every other elder, was also misguided by them. Instead, I let myself also be lulled… and the price was every man, woman, and child of Uzumaki blood."
Kimimaro didn't flinch. His tone was calm, almost amused.
"So you gambled your clan on words. Expected wolves to honor a pact or conventional 'morals'. And now you're surprised they 'ate' you?"
Ashina fell silent again.
Not from anger, but because the simple cynicism cut too close.
Kimimaro let the silence stretch, then added, voice dry.
"You had centuries of accumulated power and one of the greatest bloodlines in the world, seals that could bind gods, lifespans that could outlast dynasties. Yet in the end, you died like fools, simply due to the lack of understanding of the most basic human nature, honestly."
The old soul's sigh echoed like waves on stone.
"…Perhaps that is why your blood answers my seal, boy. Maybe it was fate. You seem to carry no illusions about the world, despite your age. You must have gone through a lot already. I can see it in your aura."
Kimimaro's smile sharpened.
"Exactly. You waited for someone who would revive your clan out of loyalty. Instead, you will have to work with someone who understands human nature better than your clan ever did."
His eyes then turned a bit cold, steady.
"Here's what I would have done. And you can decide if I'm worth your time, your investment, and your cooperation after hearing these simple truths."
"First, you should have treated Konoha like poison or a plague. Kept your island fortress. Sold your seals to everyone. Once the so-called hidden village system was born, mass-producing shinobi-like weapons on an assembly line, and spitting out wars larger than anything seen before, your demand would've been endless. The whole world would've competed for your favor. And because the villages would never be able to bury their grudges and unite against you, this time, as they lacked the 'uniting point', aka your relationship with Konoha, unlike what had happened before, you would've been untouchable, forcing them to court you, turning you into the one clan no one could afford to cross and the most influental one."
"You could have stayed neutral, like the samurai in Iron. Except instead of hawking chakra-conducting blades and materials, you'd be selling the most versatile weapons that exist. Seals. And with your population so small, every coin would've piled higher, every advantage sharper, until you were a fortress of wealth and influence. A true power unique in the world."
He let out a dry, humorless chuckle.
"But no. You bound yourselves to one village. You became their pocket weapon. And you painted a bullseye across your own backs for the other four. That isn't peace, old man. That's suicide."
For a long moment, Ashina's soul said nothing.
The silence stretched, heavy, but Kimimaro could feel the flare of heat inside the seal, like a man grinding his teeth through centuries of dust.
"…You think I don't know that?"
Ashina finally said, voice rough, steady but cracked at the edges.
"Every night of my afterlife, I could, I have replayed it."
"Fortress, neutrality, trade. I thought of it all also during my life. But, I foolishly discarded it..."
His tone sharpened, bitter with self-loathing.
"Everything turned after that brat Hashirama founded Konoha and put a ring on my talented younger cousin Mito. The world copied him, one country, one village, and our island stopped being an island and became a chessboard. Uzushiogakure had been the calm one, built on work, not plunder. We were small, but we could have grown into a true nation. We had land, sea, and time. I tried. I brought in talent from everywhere, built the Whirlpool Country around Uzumaki. Craftsmen, scholars, and stray clans, all given a home. It still wasn't enough."
The pause was long. When Ashina spoke again, regret burned hotter than before.
"That was my mistake. I grew old, too peaceful. Ordinary Uzumaki minds also weren't forged for endless scheming, for knives hidden in smiles. Senju were our cousins, our bloodlines similar and meshed since 'forever', for the betterment of both bloodlines. We intermarried, bound ourselves together as brothers. I knew Hashirama since he was a boy, for example. I thought we could hold one small pocket of quiet with just their support. That our lifespans, our seals, our discipline would let us stretch our years, untouched by the world's mud."
A harsh breath rippled across the seal.
"…We weren't entirely blind. During the First War, we gave Konoha privileged access and aid because it was mostly about influence over small nations, at that point, not a more direct clash between great powers yet. We thought it wouldn't provoke the others that much. By the Second… we had already understood the consequences and decided to step back. No more one-sided gifts. No more playing Konoha's loyal dogs. But the other four didn't wait to see. They struck before the war began. They feared what we could have done for Konoha."
Kimimaro tilted his head, emerald eyes calm, voice dry.
"So, you planned to finally act like adults, and they cut you down like children before you got the chance. Tragic. Predictable."
Ashina let out something between a sigh and a growl.
"You mock, but you aren't wrong. That mistake… I carry it even now."
He then let out something between a laugh and a groan.
"So tell me, boy. If you are so certain of human nature, if you carry no illusions, then answer me this simple question: why should I entrust you with what remains of Uzumaki? My clan is dust. My soul is bound here. Why should I tie that to you, a child of another bloodline?"