The speed at which a shinobi moves through the forest rivals that of simple vehicles — and for a powerful shinobi like Senju Mori, it's even faster.
After parting ways with Uzumaki Chisawa, he quickly reached the outskirts of Konohagakure.
But Mori didn't rush into the village. Instead, he stopped by a small lake in the nearby forest — to carefully "prepare his appearance."
He had to make sure that his return would cause the greatest possible uproar in the entire village.
First, Mori retrieved the battle-worn chest armor he had worn during the previous fight and strapped it back onto his body.
This would serve as proof — visible, undeniable proof — that he had risked his life in a desperate battle against powerful enemies to "recover the Hokage's body."
Anyone who looked at him head-on would immediately see three fierce claw marks slashing from the center of his torso down to his right flank — deep, jagged scars across the armor plates.
They were the marks left by Kinkaku, half-transformed into a tailed beast.
Next, Mori pulled out a jar of blood plasma from a sealing scroll. Carefully, he poured it over his body — especially over those claw marks and across his entire back.
The dust and grime he'd gathered from traveling suited the look perfectly, so there was no need for further embellishment.
Finally, Mori unsealed Senju Tobirama's body, binding it securely to his own back with a thick rope.
After finishing these preparations, he sat motionless for a while, waiting until the blood on his armor had dried slightly. Then he stood up again and walked over to the lake's edge, gazing down at his reflection in the still water.
He studied his appearance intently. After a moment's thought, he crouched down, dipped a few drops of lake water onto his fingers, and dripped them into his eyes.
The sharp sting made him blink rapidly; tears welled up and streaked down his face. When the discomfort faded, his eyes were bloodshot red, and a few tear tracks glistened along his cheeks.
Only then did Mori nod in satisfaction. He picked up the Bashōsen, slung it over his shoulder, and strode toward the distant gates of Konohagakure.
...
Time passed, and by that afternoon, Konoha felt like a wounded beast licking its injuries at dusk — silent, heavy with grief.
After Sarutobi Hiruzen and his team had brought back their devastating news, the two chūnin guarding the village gate had been on the highest alert, watching every shadow with suspicion.
So when they saw a staggering figure emerge from the forest in the distance, both immediately tensed up, hands slipping into their weapon pouches to grip their kunai tightly.
But what followed wasn't vigilance — it was shock.
Their eyes widened, their throats caught as if strangled, and they could only draw in a sharp, trembling breath before one of them shouted, voice cracking in disbelief:
"That's… Jonin Mori?! And on his back — that's… the Hokage!!!"
"The Hokage!!"
"It's Jonin Mori! He brought the Hokage back!!!"
With that single cry, the suffocating stillness that had blanketed the village shattered in an instant.
All at once, countless figures rushed toward the gates, swarming in Mori's direction.
But Senju Mori walked slowly — each step heavy, deliberate. He didn't react to the cries or the crowd.
Everything happening before him was exactly as he had planned.
He had timed it perfectly — arriving just as the sun dipped below the horizon, when the streets were crowded and the village was most alive — ensuring that as many people as possible would witness this dramatic scene.
He was the only actor on this stage, and every detail around him was a prop he had carefully prepared.
In his right hand, he tightly gripped a red-and-white Bashōsen. The weapon's fierce design and striking colors immediately drew countless eyes to it.
It was his trophy, a symbol of power — silently proclaiming to everyone the terrifying enemies he had defeated.
His left arm clutched a massive sealing scroll. To the villagers and shinobi who didn't know the truth, it must have seemed as though it contained something of great importance.
Was it intelligence? Other Six Paths Treasures? Or perhaps the bodies of Kumo shinobi?
But Senju Mori knew full well that after taking out the Bashōsen and Tobirama's body, the scroll was already completely empty.
He carried it only to imitate the appearance of the First Hokage, Senju Hashirama.
Long black hair. Crimson armor. The ever-present giant scroll. The proud identity of a Senju.
At this moment of crisis — when the war had yet to end and the Hokage had just fallen — this image could only inspire a deep sense of safety, a comfort born of memory.
Mori was certain that right now, countless people were thinking the same thing:
"If only Lord Hashirama were still alive…"
And that was precisely the thought Mori wanted them to have.
As the crowd of villagers and shinobi drew nearer, Mori straightened his back with effort, proudly displaying the huge, black-edged claw marks that tore across his chest armor.
No words were needed — this was the most direct, most visceral medal of honor imaginable.
Of course, the true centerpiece of this entire performance was the body of Senju Tobirama, tied firmly to Mori's back.
Because of the ropes securing him, the Second Hokage's head drooped over Mori's shoulder, his lifeless face — eyes closed, utterly still — facing forward.
The pale features and disheveled white hair struck deep into the hearts of every onlooker, and the cheers that had just begun to rise quickly died away.
"It's Lord Second Hokage!"
"Lord… Lord Second has fallen?!"
"Look at his injuries… my god, what did he go through?!"
"Didn't they say Jonin Sarutobi and the others already came back? Why is it a Senju who brought the Hokage home?"
"Don't tell me the rumors spreading in the village lately are actually true…"
While the crowd whispered among themselves, news that "Senju Mori has returned with the Hokage's body" spread like wildfire — and soon, Konoha's true powers began to arrive.
At the front were the Hokage's disciples, Sarutobi Hiruzen and Shimura Danzō, followed by the elite jōnin and clan heads of the major families — Uchiha, Hyūga, Senju, and the Ino–Shika–Chō trio…
Figures who usually only gathered during the jōnin confidence vote were now converging together at the village gates.
The villagers' murmurs did not quiet down because of their arrival; if anything, the swelling crowd made the whispers grow louder and sharper.
Every hushed comment around them was like a poisoned needle, pricking at Sarutobi Hiruzen and his companions.
At the front, Hiruzen's face turned deathly pale the instant he saw his teacher's body. His legs almost gave out beneath him, and his eyes filled with genuine grief and guilt.
In Danzō's single eye, sorrow flickered briefly — but it quickly hardened into a narrow, piercing gaze. He scanned every detail of Senju Mori's appearance, then glanced at the chattering villagers around them.
His expression darkened, growing so heavy and grim it seemed as though water could drip from it.
Facing their teacher's remains, Mitokado Homura and Koharu Utatane showed deep pain as well — but beneath that grief, there was a faint trace of doubt and unease.
Among the five, only Akimichi Torifu remained completely silent. His normally placid, round face was frozen stiff, and his entire demeanor radiated defeated despair.