"Konoha must not escalate this conflict any further," Tobirama said firmly, standing beside his elder brother in the Hokage's office. "We must appeal to both the Akatsuki Village and the Hidden Cloud Village to exercise restraint. Then, we'll dispatch a Konoha Ninja army to the battlefield—not to fight, but to mediate and prevent the situation from spiraling out of control."
He paused for a moment, his sharp eyes glinting beneath the light.
"However," he continued, "since the Akatsuki Ninja Village is our ally, we can publicly announce that we're forming an army to support them. In reality, though, that 'support' will serve as mediation."
Hashirama frowned slightly, considering his brother's words. He was the type to see good in everyone—to hope diplomacy could always triumph over violence. Tobirama knew this very well. That was precisely why he framed his plan this way.
In truth, Tobirama had already discarded his initial idea, knowing his brother would never agree to it. Hashirama always wanted to play the benevolent leader, the one who healed the wounds of the world.
So, Tobirama would go along with it—at least on the surface.
But in his heart, he knew the "mediation plan" was little more than a convenient facade.
The Akatsuki Ninja Village had just achieved a resounding victory. They were emboldened and basking in glory. How could such a force possibly stop now? On the other side, the Hidden Cloud Village had lost over a thousand ninja overnight—humiliated and furious. They would never let such a defeat go unanswered.
The truth was simple: this war was far from over. It had barely begun.
Tobirama understood that the Akatsuki's victory, while impressive, was built on the advantage of surprise. Once the Cloud Village regrouped and retaliated, the fighting would only grow more intense—more desperate. Neither side would back down easily. Both would fight to the death.
And that, Tobirama thought grimly, could be used to Konoha's advantage.
While everyone saw Konoha as the Akatsuki's ally, Tobirama saw something else entirely—a chance to quietly weaken a growing threat. The Akatsuki's power had grown beyond anything he'd imagined, and this war offered the perfect opportunity to curb their rise.
What Konoha needed to do now was simple: delay.
Every step of Tobirama's "support plan" was designed to stall.
Forming an army required negotiations with each clan, didn't it?
It required proper allocation of personnel, supply procurement, and the construction of defensive lines.
So many things to organize.
So many excuses to buy time.
"We're not refusing to help," Tobirama thought with a faint smirk. "We're just making sure the aid is… effective."
There would be talk of selecting the right ninjas for the job, ensuring aid was "precise," "scientific," "strategic." All words that sounded noble but meant nothing. Every bureaucratic delay would bleed time—and that time would let the Akatsuki and Cloud Villages tear each other apart.
But amid his calculated plan, Tobirama's one true concern lay elsewhere—public opinion.
That was the one front he could not completely control.
It was Uchiha Makoto's doing.
That cunning Uchiha had learned to manipulate the hearts of Konoha's people. And once the masses tasted power—once they realized they could sway decisions through their collective voice—they might never stop.
"If they succeed this time," Tobirama thought darkly, "they'll interfere again next time. And the time after that. Today it's foreign policy. Tomorrow it could be the Hokage's succession itself."
The idea chilled him.
Such chaos could not be allowed to take root.
He had already seen the future in his mind's eye: a Konoha where emotional mobs and self-righteous ninja dictated policy, while the Hokage's authority was reduced to mere words. No. He refused to let that happen.
He was already Konoha's Second Hokage in all but title.
"Shadow Hokage," "Konoha Kyūsennansai"—the people already whispered these names behind his back. And he bore them with pride.
Who had established the ANBU?
Who had founded the Ninja Academy?
Who stayed up every night drafting policies while others slept?
It certainly wasn't Hashirama.
It wasn't Madara.
And it sure as hell wasn't those ungrateful villagers.
He was the one who carried Konoha's burden. He was the one building its future.
Even the Fire Daimyō's treasury—the hundred billion ryō in funds that sustained the village's growth—was under his control.
And in this world, Tobirama knew the simple truth: whoever controlled the money controlled the will of the village.
Those who sided with him—the so-called "Konoha Kyūsennansai Faction"—always found their coffers filled and missions approved.
Those who didn't? They struggled.
He was no fool.
Politics was a game of leverage, and Tobirama played it better than anyone.
Over time, more and more clans came under his banner. The Senju clan stood firmly behind him, of course. But others—like the Sarutobi and Shimura clans—had also pledged their loyalty.
He still remembered when Hiruzen Sarutobi and Danzo Shimura had nearly caused a disaster that embarrassed Konoha. It was Tobirama who convinced his brother to clean up their mess, saving their families from ruin.
And when that smug little Uchiha brat, Uchiha Makoto, mocked him over it, Tobirama had swallowed his pride in silence.
Because he was playing the long game.
Now, those two families—Sarutobi and Shimura—owed him everything. To seal their loyalty, he even took Hiruzen and Danzo as his own disciples.
"They may have erred," Tobirama often thought, "but they have talent—and more importantly, gratitude."
And gratitude could be molded into obedience.
Both boys trained tirelessly, taking missions day and night, pushing themselves to exhaustion in an effort to redeem their past mistakes. Tobirama saw that determination and quietly approved.
"They'll achieve great things one day," he believed.
Beyond them, other clans—the Ino–Shika–Chō trio, the Aburame, even the Inuzuka—were gradually gravitating toward him.
The Senju, Sarutobi, Shimura, and these families formed a network of influence strong enough to steer the village.
In Tobirama's mind, there could only ever be one will in Konoha.
One voice that guided all others.
That voice was the Hokage's—his brother's in name, but his in practice.
Hashirama was too kind, too sentimental. He didn't see the danger in the Uchiha or in the chaos of public opinion.
But Tobirama did.
He clenched his fists. "If Konoha is to endure, then dissent must be silenced."
He thought of the villagers—those same people who, stirred by Uchiha Makoto's propaganda, now dared to question Konoha's leadership.
Farmers, merchants, and low-level ninja who thought they knew better than the Hokage.
He had tolerated them long enough out of concern for his reputation. But now, that patience was gone.
"If they refuse to obey Konoha's will," Tobirama muttered under his breath, "then they are no longer loyal villagers. They are obstacles."
His expression hardened, the air around him chilling like frost.
"Such obstacles," he whispered, "must be removed."
It wasn't cruelty. It was necessity.
Konoha was not a playground for the ignorant. It was a fortress built upon sacrifice, discipline, and order. If the villagers forgot that—if they let emotion dictate their actions—then he would remind them by force.
For Konoha's future, he was willing to stain his hands.
He glanced out the window, watching the sunlight spill across the village below.
Children laughed in the streets. Merchants haggled in the market. Shinobi walked with pride through the bustling avenues.
None of them knew the weight of the choices being made above their heads.
"Hashirama wants peace," Tobirama thought quietly. "But peace without control is chaos. And chaos will destroy everything we've built."
He turned away from the window, his eyes as cold as steel.
"If these villagers won't even follow the orders of the Konoha Kyūsennansai," he said softly, "then I'll give them a lesson they'll never forget."
A heavy hand, he thought, was sometimes the kindest one—because it kept the village alive.
And if history ever painted him as a villain, then so be it.
He would bear that title proudly.
Because in the end, everything he did—every shadow cast, every sin committed—was for Konoha.
For the dream his brother started.
For the future he alone could protect.
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Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)