The Angel's Ambivalence [Naruto]

Akira, Hashirama, and Madara

A/N: Hey, guys! A quick warning: this chapter is super long. Seriously, it might take days, unless you're super dedicated and read like the wind, which I know quite a few of you do. This chapter also skips around a bit, so just know that the scenes written in full italics are flashbacks, while everything else is set in present day. Hope you guys enjoy it!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"No one can hate you with more intensity than someone who used to love you."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Nakano River was not a very wide body of water. What it lacked in width, however, it made up for in length. Bordered by rock-covered banks and tall trees, it stretched on for miles and miles, flowing through a large portion of the vast Fire Country. It was by this river that one could find a young boy named Madara Uchiha.

Having wandered away from his clan's camp, Madara regarded the river with a certain level of surprise. It was strange to see how bright and alive the landscape around him was. Growing up during the Era of Warring States had completely altered his outlook on nature; usually, landscapes like this one were battlegrounds, unrecognizable masses of land stained with blood and littered with bodies of fallen shinobi. The area surrounding the Nakano River, however, seemed almost completely untouched by the fighting.

It was comforting. If the Nakano River was still flowing, if the area was still beautiful, perhaps there was hope for the shinobi world after all, in the era of war and carnage that Madara had been born into.

In one of his rare moments of downtime, Madara decided to skip rocks across the river. At least, that was what he'd meant to do. However, even after ten minutes of tossing rocks, he was left with no success. He could throw them just fine, he knew; they just never made it to the other side. Such an occurrence would have discouraged any other child, but Madara was a shinobi of the Uchiha clan. He wouldn't become discouraged; if anything, his failures only made him all the more determined. They made him extremely angry as well, but he chose to ignore that.

He picked up another rock from the floor of the bank, narrowing his eyes at the river. "This time, I'll reach the other side for sure..." He took aim, but before he could release the rock, another one flew past him. It skipped across the river a few times before landing safely on the opposite bank.

Madara quickly turned around, crouching into a defensive stance. He relaxed a bit, however, when he found that the person behind him was another young boy, most likely about his own age. The boy had dark hair -lighter than Madara's, of course- and olive skin. When he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled.

"The trick is to aim it a little higher than you expect," the boy advised, a friendly smile on his face.

Madara scowled at the stranger. "I know that already. I don't need your help. Who are you, anyway?"

"I guess you can call me your stone-skipping rival, even though I've already reached the other side of the river," the boy answered.

"Who cares? Rock skipping is useless, anyway, and you haven't even answered my question," Madara snapped, gripping the rock in his hand. He was half-tempted to throw it right at the mystery boy's smug face. "Who are you?"

"My name's Hashirama," said mystery boy replied, sporting a lopsided grin.

Madara didn't lower his gaze. He could already guess that the boy was obviously a ninja, despite how aloof and strange he appeared. Not giving away one's clan name was shinobi law, which Madara knew all too well. In this era, professing one's clan name was the equivalent of signing one's own death certificate, should one profess it to an enemy.