If the normal path to becoming Hokage was blocked under Senju Tobirama, then Hokuto had only one option left.
Wait.
Wait until Tobirama is dead.
It wasn't that Hokuto lacked a trump card capable of briefly standing against Tobirama—the Mangekyō Sharingan trial cards in his possession.
But what if he had Mangekyō?
Tobirama wasn't exactly unfamiliar with killing Mangekyō users. Uchiha Izuna had died by his hand.
Was he supposed to rally the entire Uchiha clan and launch a coup together?
That was even less reliable than trying to seek refuge with Uchiha Madara, who was probably hiding in some remote cave somewhere. At least Madara didn't practice racial discrimination—he discriminated equally against everyone who wasn't Hashirama.
Those Mangekyō Sharingan trial cards were treasures Hokuto had guarded like his own life, refusing to use them even when he'd faced real danger more than once. He had no intention of wasting them on Tobirama.
No one knew how many anti-Uchiha forbidden techniques Tobirama had secretly researched while he was alive. If you really wanted to find out, the only way would be to become Hokage and gain access to the Sealing Scroll.
But now, Hokuto had finally endured through it.
Once tonight passed, Tobirama's corpse would likely already be stone cold.
The gloom from his unlucky draw earlier vanished in an instant. Excitement surged through Hokuto's chest, a reckless grin splitting his face—before twisting into the Uchiha clan's signature, unhinged laughter.
"Ha—hahahaha!"
"Heh-heh-heh!!"
"…"
"Cough, cough—choked on my own saliva."
Hokuto coughed twice. Just then, two soft meows drifted in through the open air.
A jet-black cat slipped in through the window.
It leapt onto Hokuto's bed as if it owned the place, flicked its tail twice, then settled into a neat sitting posture—composed, almost dignified.
"Hokuto, the news is confirmed."
"Konoha's negotiation with the Raikage really was an ambush. Just like you predicted—the Second Hokage went off alone to draw the pursuers away. His chances of survival are slim."
The cat licked its paw, shifted into a more comfortable position, and flopped belly-up on the soft mattress like all seriousness had been exhausted for the day. Hokuto sat beside it and began stroking its fur with practiced ease.
"I got this intel from Qiaqi," the cat added lazily. "It took a lot of effort to pry it out of his mouth."
"Well done, Manji."
Manji was Hokuto's summoning beast. Qiaqi belonged to Uchiha Kagami.
The Uchiha clan had maintained friendly relations with the Ninja Cat Clan for generations. The ninja cats under Granny Cat often formed contracts with Uchiha shinobi.
Small-bodied and agile, ninja cats excelled at gathering intelligence and possessed their own specialized information channels throughout the shinobi world.
After Hokuto displayed his talent at the Ninja Academy, the clan put his name forward. Granny Cat arranged for Manji to sign a contract with him back then—when Manji had still been a tiny kitten.
Over the years, whenever Hokuto left the village on missions, Manji had fought alongside him through life and death more than once. When it came to scouting and intelligence, Hokuto trusted him without reservation.
"So," Manji purred, "how are you going to reward me?"
A low rumble rolled from the cat's throat. His face was blissful, clearly melting under Hokuto's expert petting technique.
"Three bottles of catnip."
"Nope. Double it."
Manji's tail flicked in sharp dissatisfaction.
"Deal."
In high spirits, Hokuto pulled a can of catnip from the drawer and tossed it over.
"The remaining five bottles—I'll buy them for you tomorrow."
Manji eagerly popped the can open, scooped out a pawful, and took a hearty bite.
"That's the stuff. Pure quality."
"AA+!"
He sprawled out in utter ecstasy, dumping all the catnip onto the bed and rolling around with his limbs splayed like a cat who'd achieved enlightenment.
"Manji," Hokuto said, "tell the ninja cats you're close with to stay in Konoha for the next few days. Keep gathering information for me at all times."
"Manji? Manji?"
Manji's eyes had gone unfocused, tongue lolling out, both paws mechanically stuffing catnip into his mouth.
Clearly, he was already high.
…Forget it.
Hiruzen and the others hadn't returned yet. Tobirama's death hadn't been officially confirmed either.
Let the bullet fly a little longer.
Sleep.
—
A few days later, Sarutobi Hiruzen and the others rushed back to Konoha.
They didn't bring news of peace.
They brought news that would shake the entire village.
The negotiations between Konoha and the Raikage had collapsed. The Raikage had been assassinated by his own subordinates, the Gold Horn and Silver Horn Brothers.
Senju Tobirama had fallen in battle.
—
Senju Clan District.
"Tobirama… he's dead?"
"How is that possible? How could Tobirama die?"
Uzumaki Mito stood frozen after hearing the news, her expression vacant and lost. The words refused to settle in her mind. She hadn't yet recovered from the thunderbolt of tragedy—couldn't make herself believe that her brother-in-law, Tobirama, was gone.
In Mito's memories, Tobirama had always been calm, incisive, and endlessly resourceful. After Hashirama's death, he had kept Konoha running with impeccable order, never allowing the village to slip into chaos for even a moment.
His personal strength ranked among the very top of the shinobi world. Even during the chaotic Warring States era, he had survived unscathed—yet now he had died during a ceasefire negotiation.
Mito couldn't accept it.
Her gaze shifted to Sarutobi Hiruzen, and for a heartbeat she silently clung to the hope that he would say something—anything—that would tear this reality apart.
But reality was reality.
Hiruzen could only remain silent, afraid that even a single misplaced word would shatter what little control she still had.
Tears slipped from the corners of Mito's eyes. She wiped them away at once, the softness vanishing as her gaze sharpened and locked onto Hiruzen like a blade.
"Tell me everything," she said coldly. "From beginning to end. Not a single word omitted."
Her voice carried an icy edge. And with her unstable emotions, chakra surged outward with her words—heavy, oppressive, and unmistakably dangerous.
The Uzumaki clan's chakra reserves were immense by nature. Combined with the fact that Mito was the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki, the pressure of her chakra made Hiruzen and the others struggle to breathe. The air itself felt thicker, as though the room had become an ocean pressing down on their lungs.
Konoha had just emerged from a massive war. The First Shinobi World War had lasted eight full years. Even a powerhouse like Konoha had been bled and exhausted by such prolonged conflict.
At a moment like this, losing the village's Hokage—if mishandled—Konoha could fracture from within.
"Yes, Lady Mito."
Hiruzen answered quickly, then carefully recounted everything: the negotiations between the Second Hokage and the Second Raikage, the sudden ambush by the Gold Horn and Silver Horn Brothers, the elite pursuit force, and finally Tobirama's decision to sacrifice himself as a decoy so the others could break through.
He told the entire sequence from start to finish.
Naturally, he also mentioned that Tobirama had appointed him as the Third Hokage before his death.
During the telling, Mito interrupted several times, pressing for details, forcing Hiruzen to repeat certain segments again and again. Everyone present was questioned repeatedly as well—each answer weighed, each breath scrutinized.
With the Nine-Tails' unique sensitivity to emotion, Mito ultimately reached a conclusion.
They were not lying.
Mito looked at Hiruzen with a complicated expression.
For the first time, she found herself doubting Tobirama's judgment.
Were these brats truly worth Tobirama sacrificing his life for?
And this Sarutobi Hiruzen standing before her…
Was he really worthy of the title of Hokage?
The question hung in the air—sharp, unresolved, and quietly lethal.
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