Time has flowed steadily since the era of the Sage of the Six Paths, the ancestor of all shinobi. His divine blood was split, inherited by two Great Clans: the Senju and the Uchiha. The long-standing conflict between these two lineages—a feud dating back to the Sage's sons, Indra and Asura—finally reached a turning point during the generation of Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha.
Years passed.
A chill had begun to settle over the Hidden Leaf Village. It was the season when animals retreated into slumber and trees shed their leaves, providing the foundation for new buds to bloom.
In the heart of this village, a collective organization of ninja, sat the man who founded it. Hashirama Senju, the First Hokage, sat at his desk. He wasn't quite depressed, but his expression was decidedly listless as he slogged through a mountain of paperwork. Slumped over with his back to the window overlooking the village, he lacked any of the prestige one would expect from the "Strongest Man in the Shinobi World." He stole a glance at his favorite bonsai tree, trying to find a momentary escape.
Suddenly, a familiar set of footsteps reached his ears. From the stride and the sound, it was clearly a small child. A ray of hope lit up Hashirama's face, and he began to fidget restlessly.
A moment later, a young boy burst into the room, lugging a mahjong table. At the sight of him, Hashirama stood up so fast he nearly jumped, his joy plain to see. Ignoring the fact that he was in the middle of a workday, the boy ran to Hashirama's side and thrust the table toward him, urging him to hurry.
This boy was Tatamima, Hashirama's first grandson. Hashirama had been overjoyed at the birth of a long-awaited grandchild and had spoiled Tatamima rotten ever since. Even now, despite being the supreme leader of the village, Hashirama's common sense often lost out to his grandson. While he had the discipline to finish his essential duties, his "softness" for Tatamima was absolute.
"Grandpa! The coast is clear!"
Hashirama didn't even stop to consider that shouting such a thing would blow their cover. He was simply moved by the boy's effort to sneak past the guards just to see him. Hashirama patted Tatamima's head and hoisted the boy's small frame onto his shoulder. Feeling the slight increase in Tatamima's weight brought a swell of grandfatherly pride to his chest.
The red markings of Sage Mode flickered around Hashirama's eyes. He was using the enhanced sensory perception of a Sage to scout the surroundings, determined to make their "escape" a success. Just as he felt certain the coast was clear and prepared to bolt, a very familiar presence manifested behind him.
"Brother. There is nothing wrong with doting on Tatamima, but I assume your work is finished?"
"Tobirama... that speed. Was that the Flying Raijin?"
"Danzo informed me he saw Tatamima entering the Hokage Estate. Your 'disappearance rate' whenever the boy visits has become quite problematic."
"But Tobirama, staring at documents from dawn to dusk wears on my soul! Surely a little outing with my adorable grandson is—"
"Silence!"
Hashirama's legendary generosity often morphed into being a complete pushover. He was the type of man who, during the first summit with the other villages, had tried to give away the Tailed Beasts—massive engines of destruction—for free. It was during these moments that his younger brother, the level-headed Tobirama, had to step in with harsh words and reprimands.
Tatamima, however, didn't care about Tobirama's stress. Seeing his grandfather slump in defeat, the boy felt a surge of childish indignation. He was a "Grandpa's boy" through and through.
Using Hashirama's shoulder as a springboard, Tatamima lunged at the "villain" who was bullying his grandfather. He leaped with the ferocity of a kitten. But to Tobirama Senju, a veteran of countless battlefields known as the fastest man in the world, the boy's movement was like a turtle's crawl. Tobirama effortlessly shifted his weight, dodged the strike, and caught Tatamima by the back of his shirt as he flew past.
Dangling in mid-air, Tatamima growled and tried to look intimidating, but he was secretly terrified by the sharp, stern glint in Tobirama's eyes. He tried to protest for his grandfather's sake, but Tobirama only offered a weary sigh.
"It's not just my brother. You too, Tatamima. The Hokage is a busy man; stop being so selfish. Furthermore, you lack proper respect for your elders. Therefore, I believe I shall spend the rest of the day personally looking after you."
"Wait—Tobirama, you wouldn't!" Hashirama cried.
When Tobirama said "looking after you," he meant ninjutsu training. Despite his love for gambling and bonsai, Tatamima loved learning ninjutsu even more. It was hard not to be drawn to a teacher who knew everything and explained it clearly. Tatamima feared his great-uncle, but he didn't hate him—in fact, he deeply respected the man.
The boy's mood flipped instantly. Forgetting all about his promise to his grandfather, Tatamima began shouting the names of Tobirama's techniques, eager to start.
Hashirama was left standing there, devastated. His break time and his precious bonding session had been snatched away. Tobirama felt a flicker of pity for his brother, but he knew Hashirama's habits too well. Cutting off the Hokage's pleas with a sharp "Quiet," Tobirama vanished as quickly as he had appeared—this time taking Tatamima with him.
Left alone in the office, still clutching the mahjong table, Hashirama stood in pathetic dejection. He remained frozen with a dazed expression until Saru—young Hiruzen Sarutobi—arrived with more paperwork and found himself having to console the God of Shinobi.
***
Peaceful times flow by like water over a fall. The toddler who once ran wild through the Hokage Estate had grown rapidly, retaining every bit of his lively spirit.
Now, Tatamima stood in a clearing deep within the forest on the outskirts of the village. It was the middle of the night. He was covered in mud, wood chips, and leaves. His shoulders heaved as he panted for breath, his eyes bloodshot as he glared at Tobirama. He gripped a kunai at his hip, his gaze so intense it bordered on insanity, watching for even the slightest opening in his uncle's stance.
"Aggghhh! Dammit, I'm gonna kill you!"
Tatamima's scream was thick with resentment and rage. To an outsider, his killing intent would have been bone-chilling. But to Tobirama, this "top speed" charge was nothing more than a child's play. With a calm expression, Tobirama crouched just as Tatamima closed the distance, hooking the boy's foot. Tatamima flipped through the air, and as he descended, Tobirama delivered a swift, precise kick to the boy's rear.
"GYAH—!"
The shock sent Tatamima screaming, his voice echoing through the silent forest. He slid face-first into the dirt, his face a mess of soil and tears. He bit his lip to stifle the pain as he clutched his backside, but Tobirama gave him no quarter. He instantly wove a sign.
"Hidden Leaf Taijutsu Secret Technique: One Thousand Years of Death!"
"AAAGGGHHH—!"
Fluid leaked from every orifice of his face as Tatamima writhed on the ground, enduring a hellish, burning sting. Squeezing out a silent scream, he crawled away like a caterpillar. He looked back to see Tobirama emotionlessly practicing "shadow" thrusts in the air. To Tatamima, the man was no longer a relative; he was a monster.
How did it come to this? he wondered, weeping.
***
The answer lay in the events of that morning.
Tatamima had woken up bleary-eyed and sat down for breakfast prepared by his grandmother, Mito. His parents were away on a mission, so it was just him, his younger sister Tsunade, and Mito. Hashirama, who would have loved to be there, had been dragged away by village elders for inspections.
Tatamima scratched his messy hair. It wasn't bedhead; it was his natural texture, inherited from Tobirama's side of the family. While his face was a mirror image of Hashirama's, his hair was a throwback to a previous generation.
The smell of breakfast stimulated his appetite. He shoveled fried eggs into his mouth, the runny yolk staining his cheek. Tsunade scolded him for his poor manners and wiped his face with a handkerchief, sighing at her "hopeless" older brother. Mito watched them with a satisfied smile before heading back to the kitchen.
"Is Tatamima here?"
"PFFFT!"
Tobirama appeared in the room without warning. Tatamima immediately checked his own body for a Flying Raijin marker, while Tsunade choked on her miso soup in surprise.
"I apologize. Were you eating?" Tobirama said flatly.
"Uncle Tobirama!" Tsunade barked, finally recovering and wiping the table. Mito stepped out of the kitchen, surprised to see him so early.
"Sister, I'm taking Tatamima with me," Tobirama announced.
Tatamima froze, his soup bowl halfway to his lips. Tsunade, sensing the grim fate awaiting her brother, grabbed her own rice bowl and retreated to a safe distance.
Mito was confused. She knew Tatamima had officially become Tobirama's apprentice, but she had heard Tobirama was supposed to depart soon as an envoy to the Hidden Mist Village. Surely he didn't have time for a training session?
Tobirama explained that since he would be away, he intended to make up for the lost time by training Tatamima non-stop starting today. Mito, trusting Tobirama's skill as a mentor, agreed immediately. Tatamima tried to protest, but before he could finish a sentence, Tobirama touched his shoulder and they vanished.
Tatamima realized he had essentially been kidnapped. He complained that he hadn't even finished breakfast and called his uncle "Old Man," which earned him a stern glare.
"Tatamima," Tobirama said, his eyes narrowing. "You've been neglecting everything but ninjutsu since you learned the Multi-Shadow Clone Jutsu, haven't you?"
Tatamima broke into a cold sweat. When he had first become Tobirama's apprentice, the first thing he was taught was the Shadow Clone Jutsu. It was a brilliant tool—any experience gained by the clone returned to the original, effectively doubling or tripling training efficiency. But Tatamima had pushed it too far.
He had ignored Tobirama's warnings and attempted the Multi-Shadow Clone Jutsu, a forbidden technique that divided chakra so thinly it could kill the user. Being a Senju, Tatamima had massive reserves, but he was still just a child. He had filled an entire training hall with hundreds of clones, nearly crushing himself to death under the sheer mass of his own copies. Tobirama had to use the Flying Raijin to pull the real Tatamima out of the pile before he suffocated.
Since then, Tatamima had used clones to study ninjutsu constantly, but he had completely ignored the fundamentals of physical combat.
"Today, I will personally drill you in Taijutsu," Tobirama declared.
The air in the forest grew heavy as Tobirama released his chakra. The pressure was suffocating. This was a man who had survived the Warring States period—a genius who invented the Shadow Clone, the Flying Raijin, and the Reanimation Jutsu. With Madara Uchiha gone, Tobirama was arguably the second strongest shinobi in existence.
"However... I am a busy man," Tobirama said, the pressure suddenly vanishing. He wove a sign, and a Shadow Clone appeared beside him. "You will fight my clone. You are not allowed to leave until you manage to dispel it. You must attack with the intent to kill."
Tatamima screamed in protest. "That's impossible!"
"Ninjutsu can be practiced with clones," Tobirama said sternly. "But Taijutsu only improves through grueling, physical effort. My clone will not use Ninjutsu, Flying Raijin, or Body Flicker. Only pure Taijutsu."
Tatamima felt a spark of hope until he remembered that the Senju clan's greatest weapon was their physical strength. Even without Ninjutsu, a clone of Tobirama was a nightmare.
"I'm leaving the rest to you," the real Tobirama said to his clone before teleporting away.
For the next several hours, the clone relentlessly pursued Tatamima, specifically targeting his rear with painful strikes every time he tried to run or hide.
Meanwhile, the real Tobirama watched from the shadows. He hadn't actually gone back to the village; he was monitoring Tatamima's progress from a distance.
He knew the burden Tatamima would one day carry as the grandson of the Hokage and the heir to the Senju. The current peace was fragile. Madara was gone, but the embers of hatred still glowed within the Uchiha. Other villages were forming, and betrayals were inevitable.
Hashirama was too soft to be a harsh teacher. If Tatamima was to survive the coming storms, he needed a master who wouldn't hesitate to push him to his limits.
Watching his clone relentlessly pummel the exhausted boy, Tobirama felt a rare pang of guilt. Perhaps I went a little too far... When Tatamima finally collapsed from exhaustion, Tobirama dispelled the clone, stepped out from the trees, and fed the boy a military rations pill. He hoisted his sleeping nephew onto his back and vanished into the night, heading toward home.