Chapter 8: Black Zetsu: It Feels Like Seeing a Friend Who Died a Thousand Years Ago

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The coffin in the secret chamber slowly opened from within. A robust man crawled out. With disheveled long hair, he opened his mouth and spat a piece of flesh into the palm of his right hand, finally feeling the sensation of being alive once more.

It was Uchiha Madara.

No one would have guessed that Madara was still alive. Perhaps the entire ninja world believed he had been killed by Senju Hashirama’s own hand; they would never imagine that this man could return from the dead.

"The timing is perfect."

"It seems my hypothesis was correct..."

Madara looked up, surveying the secret chamber hidden deep within the mountains. He offered a disdainful sneer at the person he loathed most: "Even though I died in battle against Hashirama, that treacherous and despicable villain, Senju Tobirama, would not dispose of my corpse immediately..."

Madara extended his left hand, subconsciously touching his eyes. One of them was a dull, sightless grey. Clearly, this blindness was the price he paid for his resurrection.

"I set the Izanagi technique and its activation time in advance, delayed by the Transcribing Sealing Jutsu embedded within my Sharingan. This method has indeed succeeded..."

This was a secret technique of the Uchiha clan. Izanagi was their ultimate forbidden art, capable of transforming any adverse effect—even death itself—into a mere dream for a brief period. The Transcribing Sealing Jutsu allowed a technique to be stored within the Sharingan, set to trigger under specific conditions or at a specific time, remaining effective even after the caster’s death.

Before his great battle with Hashirama, Madara had already prepared for defeat, using Izanagi and the seal to escape the clutches of death.

He felt a pang of regret for his blinded eye and reached up to stroke his eye socket. "It is only a pity about the eyes Izuna left for me..."

These were the eyes his younger brother, Uchiha Izuna, had bequeathed to him. Yet, as Madara recalled the purpose behind his decision to provoke Hashirama into battle, his spirits lifted once again.

"Hashirama’s flesh..."

Madara gazed intensely at the piece of flesh in his hand. He had bitten it off Hashirama during their fight—his trophy. This was the most important thing, more vital even than the outcome of the battle itself. It was the only reason he had instigated the conflict, a result that could only be harvested through a fight to the death.

"Hashirama..."

"This time, my plan has succeeded."

"As long as I transplant this flesh onto my wound, I will obtain Hashirama’s cells, and I should be able to acquire his chakra as well..."

Madara clenched the flesh of Senju Hashirama, feeling its vibrant vitality. He imagined the results of the transplant.

"The interaction between the forces of Yin and Yang yields all things in creation..."

"The implication must be that by fusing the chakra of the warring Senju and Uchiha clans, one can obtain the power to save the world..."

"I hope... it does not disappoint me."

Before leaving the secret chamber, Madara seemed to remember something and suddenly raised his fingers. "Ninja Art: Shadow Clone Technique!"

Poof!

A shadow clone appeared beside him. Madara watched as the clone lay down in the coffin to pose as a corpse, a cold, cruel smile gracing his lips.

"Humph..."

"Better to leave a shadow clone behind..."

"If anything happens to this clone, it will relay all information back to me when it dissipates."

"That way, I will know the moment that treacherous, despicable cur Senju Tobirama realizes I am still alive after his investigation of my corpse proves fruitless... At that point, I can be prepared."

As a ninja who had survived the brutal slaughters and bloody conspiracies of the Warring States period, Madara did not believe that faking his death would grant him total freedom. He only wanted to buy enough time to obtain the power of the Ten Thousand Things. For a powerhouse like him, the Shadow Clone Technique was incredibly practical. It served as a safety valve, as the clone would transmit its final moments upon death.

Confident that he had prepared for everything, Madara quietly slipped out of the secret chamber. He needed to find a quiet place to transplant Hashirama’s flesh.

However... before that...

Madara wanted to take one last look at Hashirama. This battle had been the most intense of their lives. While Madara knew he had lost to Hashirama, he also knew he had inflicted unprecedented, grave wounds upon his old friend.

Perhaps... that fool was on the verge of death? Although that idiot’s self-healing ability was formidable, the wounds he had inflicted were severe enough that Hashirama shouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

A final visit... to bid farewell to his past self.

Madara had already made his decision. In the future, once he possessed the power of the Ten Thousand Things and clashed with Hashirama again, he would do so with the absolute resolve to kill him.

"Hashirama."

"I have learned from you as well."

Madara recalled their final exchange, remembering the agony of having Hashirama’s blade thrust through his back.

"Hashirama..."

Madara squeezed his fist, his teeth gritted in testament to his hardened will.

"I will become just like you."

"Whether it is one's own brothers... one's friends, one's children... all are expendable for the sake of one's convictions..."

"Hashirama. You taught me this."

"This dark will... I accept it."

Madara’s mood slowly eased. Once the choice was made, nothing seemed quite so difficult anymore. His expression returned to normal as he stepped into the shadows of Konoha Village. Though the village was heavily guarded, it was useless against him; to Madara, these sentries were like children playing games.

In all of Konoha, only Senju Hashirama gave him pause.

However...

Madara never imagined that just as he left, Black Zetsu, who had been lingering in the chamber, had been trailing beneath him, observing his every move. And throughout it all, he had not aroused the slightest suspicion.

"Heh heh heh heh..."

"Madara is truly clever..."

Black Zetsu was somewhat surprised by Madara’s hidden stratagem; it had almost been fooled itself. A sinister, triumphant smile finally crept across its face.

"I never expected to see the hope of the plan’s success in Madara..."

What a... dramatic turn of events! Black Zetsu could not have been more pleased. It noted Madara’s use of the shadow clone and understood perfectly well that he intended to hide his fake death.

"Let me help you with that."

As it trailed Madara from beneath the earth, Zetsu secretly pondered how to assist in maintaining the ruse.

"Since that fellow Senju Tobirama has collected the body to study its secrets, I shall find a way to cause him trouble so he has no time to focus on the corpse..."

"As long as no one notices the deception..."

Black Zetsu found its own logic flawless, the smile on its face widening. "This way, once Madara finishes the transplant, he can wait in peace for the Rinnegan—the power of the Six Paths Sage—to awaken..."

As Zetsu envisioned the smooth implementation of its plan, its expression grew even more sinister and terrifying. "Once Madara awakens that power belonging to the Sage of the Six Paths, it will be time for me to make my true entrance!"

"Hmm?"

Just as Black Zetsu was happily tracking Madara and contemplating how to ensure a quiet environment for the awakening of the Rinnegan, it noticed Madara suddenly stop and hide himself for no apparent reason.

"Hmm?"

Black Zetsu grew suspicious, not understanding why.

"Have I been exposed?"

It didn't believe its stealth had failed, finding evidence to the contrary: "I observed Indra for ages; this concealment ability comes from Mother herself! Even that fellow, the Sage of the Six Paths, could not detect me!"

Soon, Black Zetsu realized why Madara had stopped.

It saw two figures walking on the streets of Konoha, discussing Hashirama’s condition. One of them was none other than Senju Tobirama—the very person Zetsu had intended to distract.

As for the other person...

Zetsu had initially assumed he was just an ordinary ninja of Konoha. To Zetsu, everyone but Hashirama was an ordinary ninja.

Then...

Black Zetsu cast a casual glance at the man.

That single glance caused its mind to go blank for a split second, leading it to question the very fabric of reality.

"This..."

"Is this a thousand years later?"

"Why does it seem... as if I am seeing Emiya Shirou?"