In the realm of the shinobi world, ideals are planted like fragile seeds. Yet, more often than not, those seeds bloom only briefly—beautiful for a moment, but doomed to wither before bearing fruit. Reality is harsher. Reality demands results, and the clans that have survived generations of warfare understand this truth more deeply than anyone else.
Konoha's ninja clans had never feared power. They feared weakness.
Senju Hashirama possessed unparalleled strength, a force that could command valleys, forests, and nations. But strength alone could not rule a village. Hashirama's compassion—his insistence on harmony, tolerance, and empathy—while noble, often caused unease among the clans. For them, a Hokage must be rational, cunning, capable of securing material benefits, and unyielding when dealing with external threats.
Tobirama fit that mold far better.
Thus, when the clans gathered and cast their votes, the result was overwhelming—completely opposite of what Hashirama had expected.
He had imagined unity: the clans rallying behind his ideals, acknowledging his leadership, and urging Tobirama to reflect on his missteps. He had imagined standing side by side with his brother, guiding him, correcting him, teaching him.
But when the votes were revealed—every clan siding decisively with Tobirama—Hashirama felt the ground beneath him shift.
This—this was not the world he believed he had created.
A mixture of disbelief and helplessness gripped his heart. He could not understand how everything had spiraled so far from his expectations.
Across the room, Tobirama stepped forward.
There was no triumph on his face, no arrogance, no hint of mockery toward his elder brother. Instead, Tobirama bowed his head slightly.
"Big Brother," he said quietly, his voice steady and composed, "you've seen the results. After reflecting on everything, I admit that I went too far this time. I should not have sent ANBU to beat the villagers, nor should I have detained them all."
He raised his gaze, solemn and restrained.
"I was wrong. Let's go to the ANBU together and reassure the villagers. We will express our apologies to them side by side."
His tone was humble, even remorseful—yet behind that humility was a precise, controlled performance. Tobirama had judged the situation perfectly. The clans had publicly supported him, legitimizing his actions. His "apology" now was no longer submission—it was strategy.
A political highlight rather than a stain.
By stepping down from his hardline stance voluntarily, Tobirama not only preserved Hashirama's dignity but also reinforced the image of strong, unified leadership between the Senju brothers. It showed a younger brother, fierce but loyal, tempering himself for the sake of the village.
To the clans looking on, it was a masterstroke.
Their applause filled the hall, an acknowledgment of Tobirama's political brilliance and the seeming unity between the brothers.
Hashirama stood frozen.
"Tobi…rama… I…" He struggled to speak.
He had expected Tobirama to defend himself or even confront him—but instead his brother had apologized sincerely, in front of everyone, even after receiving unanimous support from the clans. The sincerity in Tobirama's voice struck him deeply.
It was not what he imagined—but perhaps, Hashirama thought with trembling relief, it was even better.
"Tobirama," Hashirama murmured, voice heavy with emotion. "You… you truly understand me. I'm grateful."
Tobirama stepped closer, placing a hand firmly on his elder brother's arm.
"Big Brother, I have always supported your ideals. You created Konoha with the dream of ending chaos and uniting the clans under peace. I stand with you in that vision. We must work together to strengthen this village."
His eyes remained calm, unwavering. His tone carried neither flattery nor falsehood—only conviction. Even Hashirama, with his emotional nature, could feel the sincerity behind it.
The rift between the brothers healed in an instant—not because the conflict was resolved, but because Tobirama knew exactly how to close the wound.
Yet behind Tobirama's respectful gaze was a colder, sharper understanding.
Big Brother… you are too kind. Too trusting. Too easily swayed by emotion.
You wanted me to bear the humiliation alone. You wanted me to fall for the sake of your ideals.
But I cannot let your softness endanger the village.
He exhaled silently.
Still, you are my brother. And as long as I live, no one will strip you of the title of Hokage—not even yourself.
The meeting gradually dissolved as clans dispersed, satisfied with the outcome. None felt ashamed of their earlier stance; after all, they had chosen correctly. Reputation could be mended. Benefits, once lost, could not.
Only two people remained troubled.
Uchiha Setsuna, who had hoped to witness a dramatic breakdown between the Senju brothers, left with deep disappointment. He had wanted fireworks, chaos, blood—anything to weaken the Senju's unity. Instead, he had witnessed a political victory.
And then there was—
Uchiha Madara.
He stood in silence as the hall emptied, the weight of the meeting pressing heavily against him. He had watched Tobirama maneuver with calculated poise, watched the clans accept him, watched Hashirama yield emotionally yet again.
The brothers' bond was lauded as admirable, but to Madara, it revealed a deeper, darker truth.
Hashirama's idealism was cracking.
Tobirama's shadow was lengthening.
And the Uchiha… were still outsiders in the village they helped build.
As he turned to leave, a cold helplessness settled in his heart.
Hashirama… we dreamed of a world where no child would suffer the pain we did.
But is this village still the embodiment of that dream? Or have we created something we can no longer control?
The moon hung high above him as he walked down the dim streets toward the Uchiha district. His footsteps were slow, heavy, burdened.
His thoughts turned—inevitably—to Tobirama.
Tobirama, who smiled with perfect civility yet made decisions with blades hidden behind his back. Tobirama, who had used the clans' support to strengthen his influence. Tobirama, who sought order and control more than understanding.
A dangerous man.
More dangerous than Hashirama could ever comprehend.
If the Uchiha remained in Konoha, under such a man's governance…
Madara paused beneath the moonlight, his breath fogging in the cold air.
Would the Uchiha… eventually be crushed?
A silent shadow flickered across a nearby rooftop—ANBU surveillance, watching everything.
Madara walked on.
And the night swallowed him.
---
The Next Day — ANBU Release
At dawn, the villagers detained by ANBU were released. Though battered and confused, they were brought before Hashirama and Tobirama for a formal reception.
Tobirama bowed deeply.
"I apologize for the excessive measures," he said. "The fault was mine."
His apology was respectful, straightforward, without arrogance. It was the apology of a leader—not a subordinate—and the villagers recognized it.
Hashirama's presence soothed the rest.
They accepted the apology quickly.
Yet beneath their acceptance lay fear—not of Tobirama, not of Hashirama, but of the machine called Konoha that had shown a fraction of its might.
The sign restricting village discussions remained in place.
Order had been restored.
But so had a quiet tension.
---
Tobirama's Next Step
After the reception ended, Tobirama returned to his office. He opened a fresh scroll and began drafting a proposal.
A dedicated department must be formed.
A force capable of managing the village daily, enforcing law, and preventing conflict before it rises.
Previously, individual clans had sent people to patrol Konoha. But that was too fragmented, too unpredictable, too vulnerable to panic.
A unified force would fix that.
Tobirama dipped his brush again.
The Konoha Military Police Force.
The name settled on the page like iron.
He paused, considering.
This department would inevitably be unpopular. It would need to handle disputes, enforce regulations, carry out arrests, and deal with the darkest side of the village. Whoever led it would bear responsibility for every mistake—and resentment from every civilian.
Most clans would not accept such a burden.
But one clan stood out.
A clan that always patrolled.
A clan proud, disciplined, and accustomed to authority.
A clan who sought recognition.
The Uchiha.
Tobirama closed the scroll quietly.
It was decided.
---
Deployment to the Land of Lightning
The peace in Konoha did not last long.
With foreign tensions rising and reports from the front growing urgent, Tobirama could delay no more. The Land of Lightning battlefield awaited reinforcements.
For days he had stalled—balancing village stability with external pressure. But the political situation had solidified now, and hesitation could be taken as weakness.
He issued the command.
Konoha would deploy troops.
The gears of war began to turn, shadows stretching across the horizon.
---
A Quiet Storm
Hashirama thought the conflict with Tobirama had ended peacefully.
Tobirama thought the village had taken one more step toward proper governance.
The clans thought they had chosen the correct side.
Madara thought he was watching the beginning of a tragedy.
And in the darkness of Konoha, unseen eyes continued to watch, record, and wait.
The storm had passed.
Yet a greater one was quietly forming—one that would test the bonds of brothers, the unity of clans, and the future of Konoha itself.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)