After returning home, Senju Mori sat quietly in his study, reviewing all that he had seen and heard that day, when a steady, rhythmic knock sounded from the door outside.
He slid the door open—and there stood Senju Tao.
"Brother Mori, the jōnin of the Hatake, Gekko, Shiranui, Kurama, and Katō clans have come to pay their respects."
At this, Mori's lips curved into a faint smile.
"Tao, go ahead and escort our guests to the tea room. Entertain them there for a bit—I'll be along shortly."
Once Tao had gone, Mori turned toward the mirror and adjusted his clothing, then casually took a haori from the rack and draped it over his shoulders.
After that, he tied up his loose hair with a headband, took a steadying breath, and walked calmly toward the tea room.
Moments later, he stepped inside and saw the very men Tao had mentioned.
"Oboro, Shūichi, Genpō, Shugaku, Kan… it's been a long time."
Mori entered with an easy stride. All these men came from small clans that had once received great kindness from Senju Hashirama or held old ties with the Senju Clan.
After securing the loyalty of his own kin, these groups were Mori's reliable votes—no persuasion necessary.
"Lord Mori," said Hatake Shūichi, who was dressed like a samurai, his tone deep and firm. "We've heard that you are striving for the position of Hokage."
Gekko Oboro, a middle-aged man, followed with a solemn look.
"When the First Hokage saved the Gekko clan from exile, that was a debt we have never forgotten."
Then Kurama Shugaku stepped forward, his expression equally grave.
"The Kurama clan will never forget the hand that once reached out to help us."
Shiranui Genpō came next, adding earnestly,
"Though our clans are small, we will still do what little we can."
Finally, Katō Kan, realizing that the others had already said everything there was to say, simply took a decisive step forward and declared loudly:
"The Katō clan as well!"
Seeing the five of them kneeling resolutely before him, pledging their loyalty without hesitation, Senju Mori's smile brightened.
The seeds planted long ago by Hashirama, the First Hokage, had now grown into tall, flourishing trees.
...
The next day—
The final day before the election of the Third Hokage and the jōnin confidence vote.
Holding onto a faint hope that perhaps fortune might smile upon him, Senju Mori finally arrived before the gates of the Uchiha compound.
Naturally, the Uchiha clan had not prepared any kind of welcoming ceremony for him.
Still, having received Mori's visiting card, they observed proper etiquette befitting a great clan by sending two members to act as his guides.
Only when Mori reached the main gate did the two Uchihas appear suddenly, as silent as ghosts.
"Lord Senju."
Only one of them spoke—his tone emotionless, his greeting purely formal.
The other simply gestured with a silent "This way."
Much like the clan's own disciplined mindset and political restraint, the layout of the Uchiha compound was austere and straightforward.
A single straight road ran through the entire settlement, lined on both sides by neat rows of power poles and the homes of Uchiha families.
At the very end of this road stood the clan head's residence.
If the Nara clan's attitude toward him could be described as cool but polite, then the Uchiha clan's was unmistakably guarded, wary—and tinged with open hostility.
As Mori made his way deeper into their domain, Uchiha clansmen along the roadside began to pause in whatever they were doing.
Those walking through the compound, coming or going, stopped where they were.
Groups that had been speaking turned silently to look—every face turned toward him, every gaze sharp and unwelcoming...
Their cold, sharp gazes were fixed on Senju Mori, on the Senju clan crest that gleamed so conspicuously on his chest.
One by one, pairs of eyes opened—eyes marked with black tomoe spinning within scarlet pupils. The Sharingan had come alive, an unspoken warning.
By the time Mori finally stood before Uchiha Isshin, the clan head, the man's very first words nearly made him lose his composure—he almost burst out laughing then and there.
"Mori-kun, have you come here today to persuade me to give up competing with you for the position of Hokage?"
Aside from his words, Isshin's form of address was noteworthy.
Unlike Hyūga Sōgo, who had strictly maintained etiquette by using the honorific 'Lord' (閣下), or Nara Shikajō, who had begun with the neutral 'Jōnin Mori', Isshin chose '-kun' (君)—a term used between close friends or, more commonly, from an elder to a junior, or a superior to a subordinate.
Coming from Uchiha Isshin's mouth, it was certainly not a friendly term.
It carried the faint condescension of "that kid from the Senju clan", dressed in polite formality.
This subtle jab didn't surprise Mori in the least. Expecting the Uchiha to speak with the restraint of the Hyūga was pure fantasy.
Still…
They think they can actually compete for the Hokage seat?
Mori couldn't fathom where the Uchiha's confidence came from.
Yet, seeing Isshin's proud, solemn expression, he realized that this was no jest—the man truly believed it. So Mori suppressed his amusement and replied evenly:
"Oh? It seems I've been ignorant. I didn't know Clan Head Isshin was also running for Hokage."
"Why pretend you didn't know?"
Seeing that Mori remained perfectly calm—unprovoked by his needling—Isshin must have realized such petty tactics were beneath him, for he quietly changed his tone.
Outwardly composed, he looked Mori straight in the eye and continued:
"With the Second Hokage's unfortunate death, and the barbarians of Kumogakure still eyeing our village like wolves, this is precisely the time for a true warrior to lead Konoha."
"Your assistance in killing Kinkaku and Ginkaku shows that you possess strength, yes—but the Uchiha clan will not retreat because of that."
"Rather than coming here to persuade me with empty words, why not prepare yourself properly? Tomorrow, at the jōnin assembly, let's settle this honorably—face to face."
At that, Senju Mori couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head, the last traces of interest in this exchange fading from his eyes.
"Clan Head Isshin truly has… a unique perspective. Quite refreshing, in its own way."
A faint smirk touched his lips.
"It seems I've been impolite today."
He turned to leave, but as if struck by a sudden thought, he glanced back over his shoulder and added casually:
"But allow me a small reminder—your opponent tomorrow won't be just me. Sarutobi Hiruzen also intends to claim the Hokage's seat."
"Sarutobi Hiruzen?"
Isshin's expression first twisted into disbelief, then into anger, as if he'd just heard the most absurd joke imaginable.
"Please, don't insult me with such nonsense!" he snapped.
"A coward who abandoned the Hokage on the battlefield—does he even have the shame to compete with men like us for the title of Third Hokage?"
This time, Mori didn't bother hiding his reaction. A clear, unrestrained laugh rang through the hall—bold, open, almost joyous.
"Hahahahaha—Conversing with Clan Head Isshin is truly endlessly entertaining."
Still laughing, Senju Mori turned and strode toward the exit.
"That's all I have to say. I take my leave."