So That's Why the Boy Felt Familiar.He's His Son.
The Third Great Ninja War had essentially drawn to a close. Only a few border flare-ups remained, but all of them were already under the control of the major villages. Peace was settling in, unsteady but unmistakable.
Which meant Konoha had once again become the shinobi world's favorite prize.Not just for ninja—but for merchants, caravans, and anyone hoping to make money.Fire Country sat at the center of every major trade route, drawing talent and wealth like a magnet.
Uchiha Madara looked toward the distant village and paused.
So this is what Konoha has become…?
His aged, clouded eyes drifted back into memory.
That year—They were children standing in this same forest, trading impossible dreams.
That year—He and Hashirama stood on a cliff with a leaf punched through in the center, gazing at a tiny settlement taking shape below.
That year—They walked the village streets together, exchanging stupid hopes for a gentle future neither could fully describe.
Those ordinary days… were the most extraordinary memories he possessed.
"Lord Madara! Lord Madara!"
The voice snapped him out of it. For a heartbeat, the blurred outline in front of him looked like Hashirama again—grinning like an idiot.
But the face resolved into the spiral grin of White Zetsu.
Madara swallowed the name threatening to escape his throat.
"You fool. Don't suddenly appear in front of me."
White Zetsu giggled."We've tracked Uchiha Tobika's movements. Want to go straight there?"
"No rush."
Madara shook his head. His gaze returned to Konoha—a full-grown city-state, bursting with life.
"He isn't going anywhere."
"So what now?"
"We're visiting Hashirama's grave."
White Zetsu blinked."…Why?"
"Because," Madara muttered, walking downhill, "I need to tell him his idea didn't work. Three wars have proven that."
He needed to lecture the idiot.
"…Lord Madara, Uchiha Fried Chicken is having a special. One bucket—"
"Shut up."
"Buy one, get one free though—"
"Shut. Up. Eat one bucket yourself and shove the other into Hashirama's coffin."
––––––
Tobika lounged in his chair beneath the drifting clouds, yawning. No missions. No wartime alerts. It was dangerously relaxing.
Beside him, Shukaku wore sunglasses, a lollipop in his mouth, and a delinquent expression while shaking chili powder dramatically over freshly fried chicken.
This mini-beast had grown obsessed with seasoning.
He dipped his paw into a bowl of chili, lifted his fist to head height, and let the powder fall in a slow red cascade down his forearm.
Customers gasped.
"That's the Uchiha Fried Chicken signature move!""So cool!""He's adorable!""Shame Tobika-sama won't let us pet him…"
Shukaku smirked inwardly.
If flattery bought freedom, he would endure these fake humans for hours.
He'd realized something important:A tailed beast with no power?Humans could coexist with it easily.
A tailed beast with power?Humans would hunt it.
The memories of being sealed, beaten, traded, and fought over were burned deep into his consciousness. If not for the wandering monk Bunpuku softening him over the years, he'd already have spit sand into every bucket here.
But then he thought of the Nine-Tails.Twenty-four hours of imprisonment.No freedom at all.
A slow grin climbed his face, and he grabbed extra chili powder.
Just then, Uzumaki Kushina passed by.
Shukaku sprang upright.
"Oi, Redhead! You! Yeah, you—come here!"
Kushina's brow twitched.This damn raccoon again.
She pushed through the crowd, arms crossed.
"What?"
Shukaku shoved an entire family bucket into her hands with grand ceremony.
"For you!"
"…Why are you being generous?"
She eyed the chicken suspiciously.Had he spit in it?
Shukaku rolled the lollipop between his teeth and muttered so only he could hear:
"Stupid fox… the unhappier you are, the happier I am."
Then he shoved the bucket into her arms.
"I work twelve hours and get twelve hours of freedom. This joy must be shared."
"…All right then."
She took a bite—
And felt the Nine-Tails flare inside her.
Her chakra surged.Chains tightened harshly.
In the distance—
"Lord Madara, did you see that?"
"Mm."
Madara stared darkly at the lively fryer's assistant.That was definitely Shukaku's chakra.
Weak—barely at a chūnin's level—but unmistakably One-Tail.
Troubling.
He turned to leave when Tobika's voice drifted over from the crowd:
"Don't touch it! You can look, but no petting!"
Madara glanced at the boy with the Uchiha fan crest, and his expression didn't change.
The Uchiha…Once his pride.Then the source of his despair.
He had tried to save them.Tried to lead them.Tried to convince them to leave Konoha before Tobirama condemned them.
But no one followed.Not even his brother.
He had been abandoned by the clan he swore to protect.
––––––
"Yo."
Tobika noticed the old man staring quietly from across the way.Plain clothes, white hair, steady stance.
Probably a grandfather wanting fried chicken for his grandkids… but nervous about the crowd.
Tobika grabbed a sample wing, boxed it, and walked over.
"Old man. Free sample. Try it. If you like the taste, come back when the crowd thins, and I'll get you a whole bucket."
Madara stared at the offered wing.Then at Tobika's face.
Black hair.Grey clothes.A sword at his waist.Seventeen, maybe eighteen.
And his eyes—They were identical to a face that haunted Madara's memories.
"Big Brother Madara, Hashirama's getting married! Let's crash the feast, then fight them afterward!""Big Brother, I'm already married. When will you drop this idea that 'weak people are ugly'? There isn't a single woman alive stronger than you, anyway.""Big Brother, I have a son! Come on, flick him on the forehead—he'll love it!""Big Brother… I can't see clearly anymore. My eyes are failing. I never got to see your dream come true. Or my grandchild's face. What a pity…"
Madara's heart clenched.
He straightened his back.
"Tell me your name."
"…Uchiha Tobika," Tobika said, confused."What, people have to give their names before eating chicken now? You planning to scam me later?"
Madara stared at him.
Those eyes.Those brows.That voice.
The resemblance pierced straight through the decades.
"…I see."
He slowly put the wing in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
Tobika smiled.
"So? Want a bucket for your grandson?"
Grandson.
Madara looked at him—really looked.
Memories and reality overlapped.
The child he never met.The future he never reached.The family he failed to protect.
And in that moment, something softened.
"I saw it for you," Madara whispered.
He turned away, voice hoarse.
I saw the future you never lived to witness.