A Forest Hidden

Chapter 1 - Senju of the Forest

Long ago, before the existence of the Five Shinobi Countries, the lands were locked into a state of bloodshed and ceaseless conflict. Daimyō enlisted their strongest clans to do battle on their behalf, claiming and reclaiming the borders from their bitter adversaries in a cycle of never-ending hatred. North and south, east and west, land and sea - clans all over the known continent used chakra as their weapons, with some possessing great power deep within their waning bloodlines. This era in history later became known as the Warring States Period - each of the proud shinobi clans flying their family crests upon their sigils, their armor, their mouths, and upon their blood that marked each battlefield.

Generations before the existence of Konohagakure no Sato, there were two powerful clans that dominated the lands to the far east, the rich forested region that sang the winds of spring - the Senju and the Uchiha. Bitter rivals and adversaries since the existence of shinobi, their blood ran cold with the memories of past conflict etched into their blades. Foils to their own prowess, it seemed as if dictated by fate that they threatened the existence and peace of the other. The breaths upon the common-folk who lived along the fields and markets spoke of figures mired in legends - the Sage of Six Paths, his disciples, his children, Senju, Uchiha. Without fail, the two rival clans were always connected by the tales of gods.

For hundreds of years, the two clans fought upon the lands of their predecessors, wreaking havoc on the lands which they lived, stirring warfare and terror against each other in an endless cycle. Over time, the bloodshed amounted during each great conflict, with clans being hired by the numerous daimyō and lesser lords to conquer lands on their behalf. One by one, the clans that marked their territories across the war-torn continent vanished with each generation, forgotten within the ceaseless bloodshed. Men, women, children, and all in-between fell victim to the scourge of the crossfires. Villages burned to the ground, farms were sacked, and some were sold to slavers across the silver water.

In this age, monsters walked among the earth. The feared tailed-beasts of legend occupied the far reaches of the land. Living in the great deserts of the west, the plateaus to the east, the waters of the south - the volcanoes, the mountains, the forests. Striking fear into the hearts of men, their shadows towered over all who attempted to seek them out. As men tried to claim their powers for their own, the beasts ran amok, destroying mountains and causing tsunamis in their wake. Not even the bravest of warriors have dared to quell the rage from the demons who strode before them.

Where this tale begins, after many centuries the great clans of old finally grew fatigued and stripped of their wills, forced to do battle on behalf of the lords who commanded them. To disobey was to accept death - and so many succumbed to the judgement of the sword. Out of the rising conflicts, an individual arose to quell the fighting and unite the clans of the east into a village of peace and prosperity...

Where it all began was deep in the hidden forest, within the land where shinobi used the flames of fires to quell their foes...

* * *

On that fateful night, the clan of the forest lay awake with grief. Within the confines of the Senju clan's head-household, the air fell silent in bitter mourning. Deep within the encompassing forest, their ancient settlement lay untouched, unmarked by those who sought to destroy their legacy. As guards lined the outer gates to the home, the faint orange dimming of the candle emanated an aura of unfulfilled existence. His life passed him by, predeceased by his sons, his wife, his parents, and his pride. On his deathbed beside a lit lantern and burning incense, the elder chieftain Butsuma lay injured as his eldest son sat at his side.

Long dark hair as black as brittle chestnut, onyx eyes, strong jawline, copper skin - his son was the purest of Senju blood in ages. Given the name Hashirama, the young man possessed his father's defined facial features, but lacked his stern and bitter approach to living. For the first time in what seemed centuries, a Senju awakened Wood Release, a long-forgotten kekkei genkai that was said to be the marking of a god - and Hashirama was called no such thing. In his father's eyes, only his great prowess and chakra made up for what he lacked in brute leadership. His expression of deep concern and sadness encapsulated that fact.