It was time!
Senju Hashirama instinctively raised his hand to scratch the back of his head. This gesture made him look like a child caught doing something wrong, even though he was the Hokage and the elder brother.
"Well... Tobirama," Hashirama attempted to make his tone sound solemn, "There is something I thought was a good thing, so... I've already finalized it."
"Speak!"
Senju Tobirama spat out the single word, his gaze piercing.
"I..." Hashirama took a breath, straightening his back and assuming the posture of the God of Shinobi. "I have taken a disciple. My only disciple in this life."
As the words fell, the office became quiet enough to hear the rustling of leaves outside the window.
Tobirama's brow arched slightly. Deep in his eyes, a flash of genuine surprise passed, followed by a flicker of approval that surfaced almost immediately.
Finally, Brother is willing to do something productive!
Passing down one's legacy and entrusting the Will of Fire to the next generation was the foundation of the village's future. He had advised Hashirama more than once that, as the First Hokage, his ideals needed a successor.
However, that slight warmth of relief turned icy before it could even reach his heart, chilled by the guilt that was practically overflowing from Hashirama's face.
The kind of "disciple candidate" that could make his brother show such an expression...
A terrible suspicion suddenly surged into Tobirama's mind. His face darkened at a visible rate, and his voice took on a strained edge.
"An Uchiha?"
Based on the current situation, this was the worst-case scenario he could imagine. During this sensitive period—where the integration of the two clans was still shallow, internal movements were still occurring, and his brother had just "killed" Uchiha Madara at the Valley of the End—taking an Uchiha as a disciple would be no different from planting countless uncontrollable explosive tags within the village.
"No!" Hashirama waved his hands frantically. But he paused, as if remembering something, and added: "At least... not entirely..."
"....."
Seeing Tobirama's face grow increasingly cold, Hashirama spoke plainly: "It's Senju Makoto. I think... he's a good prospect. His character is excellent, and he's worth cultivating."
"Senju... Makoto?"
Tobirama repeated the name. As the actual architect and manager of the current Konoha, he already had the intelligence on all ninja clans within the village—especially the Senju and Uchiha—at his fingertips. The moment the name was mentioned, the relevant information surfaced in his mind, and his brow instantly twisted into a hard knot. It wasn't an Uchiha, but the situation didn't seem... much better.
A mixed-blood of the Senju and Uchiha clans, parents deceased, a marginal figure in the clan, chakra far exceeding his peers, yet unable to perform even the most basic ninjutsu correctly. Tobirama's mind clearly replayed the scene from the last clan test: the child's eyes were dull, his reactions slow, and his left and right eyes couldn't even coordinate properly.
"Brother!"
At this thought, Tobirama's tone suddenly became sharp, carrying his characteristic pragmatic edge. "Are you even conscious?"
He took a step forward, leaning slightly over the desk, his presence becoming even more oppressive.
"That child is a mixed-blood of the Senju and Uchiha. His identity is already sensitive! To take him as your disciple at this critical juncture—do you know what that means?"
Without waiting for Hashirama to react, he continued at a rapid-fire pace, answering his own question.
"It means that you, the First Hokage, are publicly recognizing and elevating a little guy with the blood of both clans, whose loyalty might naturally waver! What kind of signal does this send to the rest of the Konoha leadership, especially the Uchiha? Will they see it as compensation? As appeasement? Or as the start of a new round of power struggles?"
"Moreover, I have observed him! His past performance..."
Tobirama did not want to disparage a clansman, not even Senju Makoto who only had half their blood, so he simply continued his questioning.
"Do you know him? Do you understand why he possesses chakra far beyond his peers? Have you evaluated his true inner thoughts? You haven't thoroughly investigated his background at all, yet you gave him such an important title as 'Disciple of the First Hokage'! You are treating the rules of Konoha and the authority of the Hokage as a joke!"
"BANG!"
Tobirama slammed his palm onto the heavy solid wood desk. The loud sound exploded in the room, making the documents jump.
"What if the Konoha leadership objects? What if the Uchiha use this to cause trouble, demanding more power or questioning your motives? What if other clans follow suit and demand you take their members as disciples? Have you thought for a second about how to clean up the mess caused by these chain reactions?"
Hashirama shrunk his neck slightly under Tobirama's barrage of questions. He instinctively said, "Don't I have you for that?"
The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he had messed up.
Sure enough, in Tobirama's crimson eyes, fury nearly turned into a physical spray. That gaze was a mixture of extreme anger, disappointment at not being understood, and deep down, fatigue at his brother's "impulsive decisions, leaving everything to him" attitude.
Seeing this, Hashirama immediately shut up.
It wasn't that he hadn't considered the issues Tobirama mentioned. It was just that... when he felt that strange sense of affinity from Senju Makoto, saw the hidden loneliness and self-deprecation in the boy's eyes, and saw that face that bore a resemblance to both Uchiha Madara and himself, all rational, political, and village-balancing considerations were overwhelmed by a more primitive, softer emotion.
"Tobirama," Hashirama raised his head. His gaze no longer dodged but became exceptionally firm. This was the boldness belonging to the God of Shinobi, reviving in his eyes. "Trust my judgment, and trust Makoto."
"The blood of the Senju flows within him, and he yearns for the clan's recognition. Giving him a chance is also giving a possibility to the future of both clans and Konoha."
"A chance? A possibility?" Tobirama laughed out of sheer anger. "Brother, your naivety and overflowing trust will destroy Konoha one day! That Senju Makoto is a massive hidden danger! There is still time for you to rescind the order!"
"I have already decided," Hashirama shook his head, his tone resolute.
Seeing the familiar, stubborn light in his brother's eyes—the kind that even nine Tailed Beasts together couldn't pull back once he set his mind on something—Tobirama knew that all his analysis, benefit-cost breakdowns, and warnings were in vain. A deep sense of powerlessness and anger surged in his heart. It was always like this; he was always the one left behind to calculate risks, patch holes, and clean up the mess after his brother made decisions based on passion and intuition.
Driven by an extreme sense of frustration, a phrase he had held in his heart for a long time—almost a reflex when facing his brother's "gambling" style decisions—burst out.
"Brother, you will regret this!"
His voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear, carrying a suppressed tremble that echoed throughout the Hokage office.
Hashirama looked at his brother's flushed cheeks and the gaze mixed with worry, anger, disappointment, and a trace of... hurt. His brother was always cleaning up after him; Hashirama wasn't blind to that caution and toil. But on this matter, he didn't want to back down, nor could he.
Hashirama remained silent for a moment, then spoke in an exceptionally clear and calm tone.
"I am the Hokage!"
"..."
All of Tobirama's expressions, all his unsaid words, and all his churning emotions froze on his face in that instant. Time seemed to stop again.
A few seconds later, Tobirama turned abruptly and strode toward the office door.
"BANG—!!"
With a deafening crash, the heavy solid wood door of the Hokage office was slammed shut.
Hashirama rubbed his forehead forcefully. Then, a very realistic and specific problem suddenly loomed before him the moment Tobirama left. He had taken Senju Makoto as a disciple. According to the rules of the ninja world and the common sense of the master-student tradition, what was he supposed to do next? Teach him ninjutsu!
But that was exactly the problem. He, Senju Hashirama, the God of Shinobi and the First Hokage of Konoha... didn't actually know "many" conventional ninjutsu. His combat style had long surpassed the scope of ordinary ninjas. He didn't use hand signs; usually, he just moved his mind and chakra surged out, or he simply clapped his hands and whatever he shouted for would appear.
If he truly had to follow the standard ninjutsu teaching process—starting from chakra refinement, hand signs, and the principles of jutsu—he felt he might actually fail as a teacher.
Ideally, the best plan would be to have Tobirama teach him. His brother was proficient in various releases, had a solid theoretical foundation, and was rigorous in his teaching; he was the most suitable person to build a foundation. But given Tobirama's current attitude... it didn't seem appropriate.
Hashirama muttered to himself, "What should I do?"