Senju Hashirama led his squad away from the Uchiha base camp, but instead of heading straight for Konoha's territory, he turned back toward the Senju homeland. The weight on his shoulders looked heavier than his armor.
"Patriarch… do you think the elders will accept this?" one of the Senju shinobi muttered beside him. "Joining Konoha… will they even take us in?"
"They will," Hashirama replied without hesitation. His voice was steady, but even he didn't know if the elders would approve. What he did know was this: the ordinary clansmen were exhausted. They wouldn't fight this choice.
And Konoha? They'd welcome any clan willing to stop the bloodshed.
That reassurance eased a few faces, though Hashirama had no idea that back home, chaos had already erupted.
The moment the elders heard he intended to sever ties with the Uchiha alliance and join Konoha, several of the proudest among them demanded Hashirama be stripped of leadership entirely.
Senju Tobirama answered by dragging them straight into the dungeon.
The other elders bristled at his methods, but the clan's reaction surprised them even more. Shock, yes — but no outrage, no uproar. Just a quiet, tired acceptance.
It was then the elders realized something unsettling:
the Senju people weren't resisting this change.
They wanted it.
Two days later, Hashirama's group finally returned. Tobirama stood waiting at the clan gates, arms crossed, silver hair catching the light like blades.
"They're here," he muttered, spotting the returning group streaming over the ridgeline.
"Little Brother!" Hashirama called, quickening his pace.
Tobirama didn't waste time. "What were you thinking? We finally get stability with the Uchiha, and you abandon it for Konoha?"
"Answer me properly," Hashirama said sharply.
Tobirama exhaled, tension dropping from his shoulders. "Some elders fought back, but I… handled it. The rest of the clan is waiting on your word."
"Thank you," Hashirama murmured. They were brothers — they didn't need long explanations.
He gathered the entire clan that same day.
Tens of thousands of Senju filled the great clearing, a sea of armor, faces hardened by endless loss. Even the imprisoned elders were brought out, though their pride had dimmed.
Hashirama stepped forward, wind tugging at the red armor he'd worn for most of his life.
"Everyone," he began, "a few days ago, I withdrew from our alliance with the Uchiha. I chose to stand with Konoha."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"I know many of you are confused. That's why all of us are here today. Hear me clearly: Konoha's rise in the Land of Fire cannot be stopped. And we, the Senju… we've fought for a century. We've carried the weight of war longer than any family should."
His voice didn't rise, but it carried like steel sliding from a sheath.
"We all want this to end. Our children deserve more than graves. Our people deserve more than ash. Peace is close enough to touch — but only if we take it ourselves."
Hashirama lifted a ballot — simple, crimson, heavy with meaning.
"If you choose peace, then follow me into Konoha.
If you choose to continue this war…
then I will fight beside you until the end."
Silence fell across the clearing as thousands stared at the ballots in their hands.
No cheers.
No speeches.
Just the quiet decision of a people finally too tired to bleed.
One by one, the Senju walked toward the peace box. Red slips fell like autumn leaves.
The elders who opposed him watched in horror.
"Are we truly giving up our glory? Bowing to Konoha?" one whispered, trembling.
Hashirama glanced at him, eyes tired but resolute.
"This isn't surrender. It's the will of our people. They've buried too many friends. Too many children. They don't want a future of funerals."
When the final ballot dropped, Hashirama raised his hands.
"From this moment, the Senju Clan will join Konoha.
Today… we end our century of war."
A roar erupted across the clan grounds — not of battle, but relief.
Tears, laughter, shaking hands raised to the sky.
For the first time in generations, the Senju celebrated life instead of death.