He rubbed his temples and spoke aloud to the empty office, more to order his own thoughts than to inform anyone. "It's fortunate, in a sense," he murmured, "that Orochimaru's meddling further weakened Kumogakure. The Eight-Tails' rampage and its aftermath must have reduced their ranks, chunin, genin, and civilians alike, far more than they want. And yet the raid presumably done by Konoha and Uzumaki clan wiped out Kumogakure ninja troops… how it happened remains a mystery." He paused, bitterness and bewilderment mingling in his voice. "Publicly, the credit and the blame have been twisted. Danzo has taken credit where credit does not exist."
The physical evidence along the border left no doubt that a force had been annihilated, and Hiruzen did not doubt the reality of that devastation. Still, he could not help replaying his own prior intentions. Reports of the Uzumaki raid had reached him long ago when the matter happened; he had accepted the intelligence just like other ninja villages, he had calculated the Uzumaki clan, but he did not expect such results; a clan of Uzumaki stature could be used as a blunt instrument. A thousand-year heritage meant hidden techniques and sealing methods trump cards that, if employed during life and death struggles, could shift the balance of power quickly.
In the cold calculus of strategy that Hiruzen sometimes allowed himself, using the Uzumaki in such a way would have weakened rival villages after the Second Great War without Konoha having to engage in a fresh, costly conflict. It would have diminished the political influence of Senju and Uzumaki interests inside Konoha, consolidating the village's authority and simplifying an uncertain postwar world. And crucially, with the Nine-Tails still there, the preservation and control of sealing knowledge left by the Second Hokage from the Uzumaki and forbidden techniques seemed, to pragmatic minds, a security guarantee rather than mere cruelty to destroy allies.
Yet even as he rationalized, an uncomfortable truth remained; strategy and morality often collided. Hiruzen reminded himself of the sealing techniques the Second Hokage had devised and the forbidden arts the Uzumaki preserved instruments that could, in another's hands, become weapons against the village itself. He had never feared losing an ally as much as he feared losing control of those tools that he wanted for his own, including the village. That fear had shaped choices, and those choices had consequences that rippled outward in ways that were not always anticipated or owned.
He sat still for a moment longer, weighing the balance between necessary secrecy and the cost paid in lives and trust. The world demanded hard decisions; history would judge them harsher still.
After all, aside from being the Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi was also head of the Sarutobi clan. He never forgot that fact. His duty was to the village, yes, but he also wanted his clan to prosper and endure. If he performed well as Hokage, he could ensure that the Sarutobi, together with their allies, maintained control over Konoha for generations.
What every ninja village and even political leaders like the Daimyos truly feared was not politics or wealth, but bloodlines. Specifically, the Senju and Uchiha. These were the only two clans that had ever produced beings like Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara shinobi, who had risen beyond the limits of "Shadow-level," who had transcended what the shinobi world considered possible. They were not mere leaders. They were forces of nature, individuals who could walk the world as gods among mortals, unchecked and unrivaled.
Even Ron, detached and analytical as he was, would have agreed with Hiruzen's perspective on this point. To Daimyos and shinobi alike, Hashirama and Madara were gods, not abstract myths, but tangible, undeniable realities. More real and more terrifying than unseen legends like the Sage of Six Paths or the rumored beings of the holy lands.
Hiruzen often reflected grimly on his teacher, the Second Hokage. "If Tobirama-sama had possessed the same overwhelming strength as his elder brother," he thought, "he might have been far worse. Unlike Madara, Tobirama was a man of sharp politics and cold calculation. With power equal to Hashirama's, he might have crushed every dissenting voice and ruled the shinobi world with iron law. Madara at least lacked the subtlety to do that, and Hashirama was there to stop him." But what if, one day, the Senju or Uchiha produced another monster like that? The thought chilled him.
That was why the Uchiha had been deliberately confined to the Police Department. Their combat role was suppressed, their presence in the military sidelined. It was the same reasoning his teacher had followed with the Senju clan. Tobirama had feared that the Senju, with their close ties to Hashirama, would inspire the same dread as the Uchiha. So he had pushed them to abandon the name Senju, to dissolve into the civilian population, becoming ordinary in the eyes of history. It was a political shield, meant to protect them.
But in the end, it was futile. When Danzo's hand moved against those remnants of the Senju, Hiruzen did not intervene. In truth, he even supported it in secret. For in Hiruzen's mind, the risk was too great. Another Hashirama without Hashirama's gentle heart could rise. Such a being would never tolerate rival clans, dissent, or political opposition. For the sake of stability, the Senju had to vanish, no matter how brilliant their legacy.
The Uzumaki, too, were a problem, but of a different kind. They were the perfect jinchūriki. Uzumaki Mito had once contained the Nine-Tails with unmatched control, wielding the most destructive force in existence after Hashirama or Madara. The Kyubi was not a mere weapon; it was recognized as a natural disaster, the strongest of the tailed beasts.
Only someone with Uzumaki or Senju blood could contain that beast safely. But therein lay the danger. If the Uzumaki clan survived, or if the Senju retained influence, then the jinchuriki might belong not to Konoha, not to the Hokage, but to those clans. It would give them leverage that rivaled the office of Hokage itself. For Hiruzen, the conclusion was simple; it was better for the Senju to fade into history and for the Uzumaki to bleed themselves dry, weakening Konoha's enemies. As long as their blood survived only through carefully chosen hosts, the Nine-Tails' power would remain firmly in Konoha's hands, in his hands, the Hokage!
When Kumogakure's army was wiped out during the raid on Uzushiogakure, rumors spread quickly. The other great villages reported that the force had been destroyed by Impure World Reincarnation undead shinobi summoned back to life and that those revenants had been transported across the battlefield with Flying Thunder God, detonating with chains of explosive tags. Even Konoha's own spies relayed the same account.
Hiruzen could only attribute it to a secret contingency, a final trump card left by his teacher for the Uzumaki to wield. If so, it had served its purpose. And as he considered the outcome, an enemy crippled, an ally of senju erased, dangerous knowledge and bloodlines contained, he felt not regret, but relief. The fewer uncertainties that threatened Konoha's supremacy, the better, after all, Konoha and the land of fire were the most prosperous in terms of resources, and they could overwhelm their enemies even without Senju, Uchiha, and Uzmumaki.