Lord Light and Shadow, We Are Always Ready to Offer Our Loyalty to You!
The silence in the council chamber was heavy, like the weight of a storm cloud about to burst. When the Hokage, Senju Hashirama, finally spoke, the tone of his voice shifted everything. His calm but authoritative words left no room for hesitation.
The gathered clan leaders and prominent ninjas exchanged looks, but in the end, they all bowed their heads in agreement.
Their change in attitude was as quick as flipping a coin.
Just moments ago, they had been murmuring doubts, exchanging glances filled with suspicion. But now, faced with Hashirama's steady gaze and the unshakable presence of the Hokage, their opinions reversed completely.
They all understood one thing very clearly:
Konoha was their future.
If they offended not only the First Hokage, but also his younger brother, the Second Hokage-to-be, then their clans' survival in this new order would become extremely difficult.
So, without hesitation, they echoed each other.
"Of course, Hokage-sama!"
"It must have been a coincidence!"
"Yes, pure coincidence!"
"Lord Tobirama would never plagiarize! It's impossible!"
The voices of reassurance overlapped, each clan eager to display loyalty.
Hearing the chorus of affirmations, Senju Tobirama's cold expression finally softened. His crimson eyes shifted, landing on the figure beside him.
His gaze lingered on Uchiha Madara, who stood silently with his arms crossed.
A strange satisfaction rose in Tobirama's chest.
Madara was feared, revered even, but today he stood isolated. The clans did not trust him. They trusted the Senju. They trusted Hashirama and, by extension, Tobirama.
Look at this, Uchiha Madara, Tobirama sneered inwardly. See the influence my brother and I command in this village? Even if I were accused of stealing ideas—though I didn't—they will still choose to stand with us. With the Senju.
They don't trust you. They never did, and they never will.
Tobirama's lips curled into a faint smirk he quickly suppressed.
Across from him, Madara's eyes darkened.
The air grew heavier as he let out a sharp, disdainful snort.
"Humph!"
That single sound was enough to silence even the most talkative clan head.
Madara's gaze swept across the chamber. The hypocrisy of these people disgusted him. The entire village was drowning in two-faced words. Everyone knew Tobirama had copied Uchiha Makoto's ideas, yet not a single soul dared to point it out.
What infuriated him most, however, was not the clans. It was Hashirama.
The truth was clear as daylight. Yet Hashirama… Hashirama chose to shield Tobirama. He didn't choose to believe Madara, didn't choose honesty.
For Madara, this realization was a blade piercing his chest.
So this is how it is, Hashirama. Even after everything we've built together, you still hold back. You don't fully trust me.
The bond between them, once strong enough to dream of a village together, now showed cracks. A silent rift spread, and though invisible, it was undeniable.
Madara's eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare. Without another word, he turned sharply, the folds of his dark armor brushing against the floor. He strode out of the council chamber, leaving behind only the echo of his footsteps.
"Madara—!"
Hashirama shot up from his seat, his face filled with worry. He knew Madara's temper, and he could feel the sting of his friend's disappointment. His heart ached.
He wanted—no, needed—to run after him, to explain, to reassure him that things were not as they seemed.
But his feet stayed rooted.
Because on the other side of the chamber sat his younger brother, Tobirama.
Hashirama clenched his fists. Tobirama was family. He was trying, in his own harsh way, to build a strong Konoha. His methods were sharp, maybe even cruel, but Hashirama believed his intentions were good.
And today's meeting was too important.
As Hokage, he couldn't abandon it halfway through. He had responsibilities that went beyond his friendship with Madara.
So, with a heavy sigh, he sank back into his chair.
"…Continue, Tobirama."
Tobirama stiffened, his mood far from pleased. He had spent days locked in his study, carving out strategies until his ink-stained fingers ached. And yet, the plan he presented today ended up identical to the one Makoto had proposed earlier.
Now everyone whispered "plagiarism."
It was maddening.
Suppressing his frustration, Tobirama forced himself to outline the strategy again. But his explanation was short, almost mechanical. He didn't ask for opinions, didn't encourage discussion.
Within minutes, he cut the meeting off entirely.
"We'll reconvene tomorrow—or the day after."
His voice was curt, almost biting. He needed time to reset, to reclaim control. Today had completely derailed his carefully planned rhythm.
The clans exchanged uneasy glances but dared not protest.
One by one, they filed out of the chamber.
---
When the last footsteps faded, the Senju brothers walked together through the quiet hallways of the Hokage residence.
Hashirama's mind wasn't on Tobirama's words. His thoughts were consumed with Madara—his clenched fists, his cold glare, his retreating back.
Finally, Hashirama couldn't hold it in.
"Tobirama," he said softly, "you… really didn't plagiarize, did you?"
Tobirama stopped in his tracks. His jaw tightened.
"Why don't we go together and apologize to Madara? If you did copy him, it's fine. We'll keep it between us. I'll protect you."
Hashirama's tone was sincere, but his words struck Tobirama like lightning.
His mouth twitched.
"…Brother. Seriously?"
A moment ago, he had basked in the feeling of victory, watching Madara walk away while the clans rallied behind the Senju. But now, his own brother was suggesting he had plagiarized?
And worse, telling him to go apologize?
Tobirama's pride bristled.
"I didn't plagiarize!" he said firmly, his eyes sharp with frustration. "It's a coincidence. That's all! You must believe me."
Hashirama studied his brother's face. Tobirama's conviction was clear, but Hashirama's heart remained troubled.
"…But…"
"No buts!" Tobirama snapped. "I won't admit to something I didn't do. Never."
The elder brother fell silent, helpless.
At last, he gave a weary nod and walked away, his heart already set on finding Madara. He knew Mito would be waiting for him at home—he had promised to share dinner with her. But promises could be broken. Madara couldn't be abandoned.
Mito will understand. She always does.
---
One Month Later.
Far from Konoha, in Akatsuki Village, the sun blazed high in the sky, scattering brilliant light across rooftops.
At the training grounds of the newly established Ninja School, the sound of young voices shook the air.
"Obedience is the duty of a ninja!"
"Support Master Light and Shadow with our lives!"
Rows of children, clad in striking uniforms of black trimmed with red clouds, ran around the training field. Sweat rolled down their cheeks, but their steps were strong, their chants unwavering.
Standing proudly on the sidelines, Uchiha Makoto observed with narrowed eyes. His lips curled into a faint smile of satisfaction.
This—this was the future of his village.
Unlike Konoha, where ninja schooling was loose and half-hearted, the Akatsuki Village Ninja School followed strict military management. It was a fortress of discipline. Outsiders were not permitted to wander near, and every teacher had been handpicked by Makoto himself, offered salaries generous enough to secure absolute loyalty.
The children had only one day of rest each month.
The rest of their time was consumed by training, study, and more training.
Ninja are not civilians, Makoto thought coldly. They are weapons. And a weapon that does not sharpen itself will shatter the first time it strikes.
He pointed toward the running students. "Look at them. So young, yet already carrying the weight of the future."
The officials accompanying him shifted uncomfortably. Their eyes followed the children, who wore eight sets of uniforms—prepared for every season, tailored with resilience for training and battle.
Even the smallest detail had been arranged by Makoto.
A whistle blew. The children immediately stopped, forming perfect rows, their voices unified as they shouted:
"Welcome, Master Light and Shadow!"
Makoto's smile deepened.
"What is your sole purpose in becoming a ninja?" he asked.
The children roared back in unison:
"To obey Master Hikage's orders!"
"Well said," Makoto praised, his voice filled with satisfaction. "This is the most pleasing answer I've ever heard."
Behind him, the senior officials swallowed hard. It was midday, the sun merciless, yet each of them felt a chill crawling down their spines.
The inspection continued. Later, in the cafeteria, the smell of freshly prepared food filled the air.
Bowls of steaming rice, fragrant miso soup, generous cuts of meat, and even desserts sprinkled with sugar were served.
The children sat upright, hands placed neatly on their knees, waiting for the command. Their eyes shone, hungry yet disciplined.
Eighty percent of these children came from commoner families. Before entering the academy, many had never known the taste of proper rice. Now, for the first time, they ate until full.
"Everyone stand!"
"Dinner is ready!"
In unison, the students rose and shouted loudly:
"Lord Light and Shadow, we are always ready to offer our loyalty to you!"
Only then did they sit down and eat, their faces filled with joy.
Makoto too tasted the food, nodding with approval.
Good. A ninja cannot serve on an empty stomach. If you want loyalty, you must give them strength first.
Later that afternoon, in his office, Makoto reviewed documents. A sealed letter caught his eye. Breaking the wax, he scanned the contents, and his brows lifted slightly.
"…The Uzumaki clan? They're sending an envoy?"
His lips curved into a mysterious smile.
Konoha, Konoha… Every corner you leave unattended, I will seize.
For a fleeting moment, he chuckled to himself. "Perhaps I should dye my hair blond…"
Then he shook his head.
"Wrong choice again."
He tossed the thought aside and leaned back in his chair, his mind already turning over schemes for the future.
patreon (Obito_uchiha)