Hashirama sometimes dreamed of war. Not the war that played on the news on television all the time, men and women firing automatic weapons at each other in far off places. No, Hashirama dreamed of chaotic warring states in a world where men and women molded the elements with only their hands. He dreamed of child soldiers and kunai and a family that looked like his but different, angrier, deadlier. Most often, however, he dreamed of a person. Sometimes he was a boy with messy black hair, a wild smile, and dreams of peace to protect their loved ones. Other times he was a man broken by hatred and betrayal, bathed in blood and screaming while they clashed their swords against each other.

Hashirama had never mentioned the dreams to anyone before. He knew what they were, of course. Hashirama dreamed of his soulmate and the life they had lived in a previous incarnation. Sometimes in the privacy of his room he tried to call on his chakra the way he had been able to in that life. It never worked quite the same but he could feel the energy simmering just below his skin and that was enough for him to believe that it had all been real.

One month before his sixteenth birthday, the first day of a new school year, Hashirama stepped in to his new homeroom class with a smile on his face. He wasn 't particularly good in school but his naturally cheerful disposition ensured that he always had friends to lean on everywhere he went. As he headed towards the back to sit next to someone he knew, a shoulder bumped in to his.

'Watch it, ' someone growled at him.

'Sorry, sorry! ' he replied, turning to see who was there. The moment he laid eyes on the boy it was as if all the air had been sucked from his lungs.

Wild black hair framed a face that he had known since his earliest memories. Dark eyes looked back at him with the same surprise he currently felt. Thin brows, a straight nose, and a rounded chin formed the handsomest face he had ever seen. Hashirama felt a wide smile blooming across his own.

'Hi, I 'm Hashirama, ' he said quietly. The boy blinked and nodded slowly.

'Madara, ' he answered shortly. He jumped when Hashirama put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze.

'Let 's have a happier ending than the last time, ok? '

Madara 's smirk is just as he remembers it from his dreams. The past had been hard and full of hurt. Somehow he just knows that this future will be better.