"So you really came here to save me?"
Tobirama was taken aback by Senju Mori's response, but Mori didn't hesitate to answer again.
"No. I came to bring your body back. You are a respected elder of our clan — the Senju bloodline must not be defiled.
I will never allow your corpse to rot in the wilderness or be used as an experimental subject by Kumogakure."
"Nonsense."
Tobirama's words were as sharp as ever.
"You didn't come to retrieve my corpse — you came to seize the title of Third Hokage."
"Heh... cough, cough... Even with my orders, it won't change the fact that those brats failed to protect their Hokage — that they abandoned me and ran back to the village alone."
"As long as you bring my body home, you'll be celebrated as a hero — the brightest of them all."
"No wonder you dropped everything and rushed here the moment you heard the news. For you, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. How could a kid like you possibly let it slip away?"
"You've been planning this ever since I refused to take you as my student, haven't you?"
"Ha... Hane, Shin, Genma, Sōji, Makoto, Ensui, Gennosuke... even that brat Tao has made jōnin by now, hasn't he?"
At that, Tobirama actually showed a faint, unreadable smile.
"You really are a schemer, aren't you?"
His gaze then drifted to Uzumaki Chisawa.
"And this one — he's part of your plan too, isn't he?"
"No," Mori replied with a grin. "Chisawa is my real friend. Actually, it's thanks to you that we met."
Mori spread his lips into a big, bright smile — but to Tobirama, it looked unbearably smug.
"Do you remember? Back when Lord Hashirama was still alive, you invited the shinobi of the Land of Whirlpools to visit Konoha. Chisawa came along with Uncle Chihaya…"
Judging by Tobirama's expression, Mori could tell he had absolutely no recollection of such a small boy back then.
"You really know how to seize an opportunity…" Tobirama muttered helplessly.
When his older brother was still alive? When he invited the Uzumaki to Konoha?
That was so long ago.
Back then, how old had Mori even been?
Just how precocious was this brat?
Or was he simply a natural-born conspirator?
And besides — who could tell how much truth was in anything this kid said?
He expected Tobirama to believe they'd become "true friends" from just that single meeting? That the Uzumaki boy would risk his life to accompany him all the way here?
Clearly, Mori had found plenty of excuses to visit the Uzumaki over the years — no doubt strengthening their bond in secret.
At this point, Tobirama finally let the faint trace of a smile fade from his face, and his tone grew cold again.
"Must you fight for it?"
"Unless you return to Konoha yourself," Mori answered seriously,
"the position of the Third Hokage will be mine."
"Three Hokage in a row from the Senju clan — do you think any other clan would ever have a chance to lead the village again?"
"Would that kind of Konoha still be a village, or merely an expanded Senju compound?"
Tobirama's expression stiffened.
"In my eyes, that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing," Mori replied with a calm smile.
"My brother's and my efforts — all of it would be wasted by your selfishness."
"Your efforts and Lord Hashirama's?" Mori countered, his tone still respectful but firm.
"Do you mean your effort to dismantle the Senju clan?"
"On the contrary, I believe I am correcting your and Lord Hashirama's mistakes, salvaging your reputations, and pulling the Senju back from the brink of absolute ruin, allowing our clansmen to stand on firmer ground."
"Clansmen? Do you not care at all about the many Senju who sacrificed themselves for this village?" Tobirama's tone strangely calmed down, as if he had finally reached some understanding.
"No one's sacrifice will be in vain," Mori replied firmly.
"I'll do everything in my power to protect every clansman — to train them, temper them, push them to their limits.
I'll make the Senju the true First Clan of the shinobi world — not just a fading name of the past."
"The future of the Senju will grow into a true sky-piercing tree.
Its vast branches and leaves will not only overshadow Konoha but also shield it from wind and rain."
Sensing the unshakable resolve and conviction in Senju Mori's tone, Tobirama Senju lost all interest in continuing the conversation.
He closed his eyes and silently leaned back against the tree trunk—completely still.
Mori didn't rush him.
He simply sat down on the ground as well.
The two Senju waited together in a strange sort of understanding—
waiting for Tobirama Senju to finally stop breathing.
The eerie silence didn't bother either of them.
Mori even seemed to be in good spirits, humming a tune in his head and gently bobbing his head along to it, a sight that only made Uzumaki Chisawa even more uneasy.
Seeing his companion's anxiety, Mori casually sent him off to collect the Six Paths' Treasured Tools that had belonged to the Gold and Silver Brothers.
After Silver's death, Gold—likely for the sake of mobility—had only kept the Shichiseiken (Seven Star Sword) and the Bashōsen (Banana Fan), which could unleash attacks of all five chakra natures.
As for the remaining items—the Benihisago (Crimson Gourd), Kōkinjō (Golden Canopy Rope), and Kohaku no Jōhei (Amber Purifying Bottle)—
it was unclear whether he'd left them behind intentionally or lost them somewhere along the way.
Fortunately, for a member of the Uzumaki clan, masters of chakra sensory techniques, finding items brimming with such massive chakra reserves wasn't particularly difficult.
Who knew how much time passed—one minute, three, ten?
Even Uzumaki Chisawa had time to return, carrying a large scroll on his back.
Following the traces of battle and lingering chakra, he had easily located Silver's corpse and the Kōkinjō and Benihisago that lay beside it.
Though the Kohaku no Jōhei remained missing, Mori was more than satisfied with the haul.
Tobirama's final breath was surprisingly stubborn—it took quite a while to fade.
But Mori could wait; he'd already waited over twenty years for this day.
What were another twenty minutes?
Suddenly, Tobirama seemed to recall something. He opened his mouth and asked,
"Do you intend to marry Tsunade?"
"No. I plan to marry an Uzumaki. Tsunade isn't even ten yet—she's not suitable for me."
Mori rejected the idea instantly.
Tobirama closed his eyes again.
This bastard.
He'd gotten the answer he wanted, yet he still felt the urge to curse.
This damned brat!
Because he understood exactly what Mori meant in that instant.
Tsunade's too young.
In other words, even if Mori wanted to marry her, he'd have to wait several years—
by which time both Tobirama and Hashirama would be long dead.
For someone as calculating as Mori, marrying Tsunade would bring no immediate or valuable benefit.
By contrast, once both brothers were gone, Hashirama's wife, Uzumaki Mito, would remain the most powerful and most respected figure in the village.
To marry into the Uzumaki clan was, without question, the most advantageous move.
And thinking further—compared to the Senju tradition of inbreeding to preserve "pure blood,"
a union with Uzumaki blood might actually produce even more gifted descendants.
Moreover, such a marriage would strengthen his alliance with the Uzumaki clan,
gaining their manpower and influence to counter Sarutobi and the others.
No wonder that little Uzumaki brat over there was grinning from ear to ear.
Ten minutes later, Tobirama finally went completely still, as though he had simply fallen asleep.
But Mori didn't move; he continued to sit patiently where he was.
Though their final conversation had sounded calm, reasonable—almost harmonious—
Mori knew perfectly well that they had reached an irreconcilable divide.
Once he succeeded Tobirama as the Third Hokage,
even if he didn't openly denounce all of Tobirama's policies,
he would overhaul them—perhaps overturning eighty percent of them outright.
Under his leadership, Konoha would transform into a ninja state ruled squarely under the Senju clan's control.
That was not the future Hashirama and Tobirama had envisioned.
The only reason the old white-haired ghost hadn't leapt up to strangle him was because his body was already too weak to move.
Still, Mori couldn't shake a faint wariness.
If that devious old man were to pull one last trick before dying—
say, by faking death just long enough to slap a mutual detonation tag on him—
that would be anything but funny.
After all, from the Warring States era to today,
every ninja who underestimated Tobirama Senju had died a miserable death.
And Senju Mori had no intention of becoming one of them.