Senju Tobirama stared at the twelve gold-sealed edicts from the Daimyō of the Land of Fire laid out before him.
He felt numb.
The shinobi world had no legend of Yue Fei.
Yet Tobirama was now tasting Yue Fei's treatment.
An ordinary shinobi, faced with such censure and pressure from the Daimyō, would have their very shinobi way shaken.
"Solve the case at once. Time can no longer be wasted."
"Quickly solve the case without error."
"Hurry up and solve it."
"Hurry."
Just reading the lines on those plaques, Tobirama could almost hear the Daimyō's storming fury and feel the unprecedented weight settling on his shoulders.
But Konoha still had no conclusive proof to nail Uchiha Makoto for the crime.
Makoto's methods were meticulous; the plot was watertight, leaving no tail to grasp.
Everyone knew he did it.
And yet there was no evidence.
Now the Land of Fire was pressing so hard that it had escalated to twelve gold edicts in one day.
Shocking.
Drag this out any longer and the Daimyō might come to Konoha himself.
Soon people would doubt Konoha's competence.
All of it left Tobirama anxious to the point of pain.
But evidence—he could not find it.
The few traces at the scene all pointed to Takigakure, with nothing tying Akatsuki Shinobi Village to the deed.
Without hard proof, Tobirama could not persuade his elder brother to join him in squeezing Uchiha Makoto.
For someone of Makoto's stature, no conclusive evidence meant he didn't do it.
And thus no one could punish him.
Even if they found it,
no one would likely be able to punish him.
In a sense, Uchiha Makoto now stood outside the law.
Even Senju Hashirama, convinced Akatsuki was behind it, would never steel himself to sanction Makoto personally. He would only paper things over.
Only good men end up with guns pointed at them.
Of course,
the crux of Tobirama's dilemma was not evidence.
The grandees of the Land of Fire didn't care about process or proof; they cared about results.
They wanted face.
Does this so-called "evidence" matter
Aren't you shinobi of Konoha
Surely you have ways to produce proof that it was Akatsuki.
No matter how far-fetched the proof, they were prepared to believe it. The real question wasn't evidence at all, but whether Konoha would show loyalty to the Land of Fire by forcing Akatsuki to hand over a few scapegoats.
They needed the country to see that those who violated noble interests would be punished.
Akatsuki included.
The Light Shadow's virtue remained pristine; a moment of lapse could be understood, yet he would still cooperate to uphold noble interests.
Preserve those optics and the result would be grudgingly acceptable.
Tobirama was no fool. Under such urgency he thought of a way to "solve" the problem—if you can't solve the issue, solve the people who created it.
Not the grandees of the Land of Fire.
Konoha's founding creed includes protecting the Land of Fire, guarding the Daimyō, and the nobility behind him.
It is written into Konoha's law.
The very reason shinobi exist is much the same.
The "shinobi as tools" brand has been hammered into minds for generations, as basic as one plus one equals two.
Even rogue ninja rarely target nobles—bounties bring hunters, and nobles are naturally close to shinobi.
Nobles are employers, patrons, paymasters; shinobi are the tools they command and the shields that protect them—as if born to that role.
Nor did Tobirama believe the nobles had erred here.
It was Uchiha Makoto, blinded by profit, who committed an unforgivable crime.
So the person to "resolve" was Uchiha Makoto.
"Damn it."
"Uchiha Makoto, you innately evil Uchiha brat—stirring up trouble outside and leaving me to bear the pressure."
"How could anything be so cheap."
"I'll kill you!"
With a roar in his office, Tobirama sent shinobi to quietly arrange a meeting with Uchiha Makoto.
Akatsuki Shinobi Village
"Fast shoot."
"Already wrapped."
Uchiha Makoto sat in his office with Shirasawa Akira. They were about to watch the freshly completed film Saving Chūnin Pain.
The speed exceeded Makoto's expectations.
Nineteen days in total.
"All thanks to Akatsuki's strong support."
Shirasawa offered a timely compliment.
It wasn't flattery so much as fact.
Filming a shinobi war movie from a shinobi's point of view, Akatsuki had solved the core problems.
Actors would normally have to study shinobi psychology to get into character; Akatsuki shinobi didn't need to.
They weren't acting—they had just survived a brutal war.
Speech, bearing, combat, every movement lacked the seams of performance; they scarcely needed retakes.
Long takes flowed in one go.
And Shirasawa himself was an outstanding director, processes slick. Finishing fast made sense.
"Yeah. Nicely done."
"Konoha's section is great—late to the scene, late to the scene—true to life. Add heroic fighting and guilty soul-searching at the end, it looks good to the senses. But audiences won't see it that way, and Konoha shinobi won't rebut it. Realism, realism."
Makoto laughed.
Shirasawa, not wanting to get dragged into village politics, held his tongue. Still, he felt he'd been dragged in already. If he wanted to avoid "accidents"—a few shuriken in the back—he'd best keep close to Akatsuki.
After the credits, Makoto still wanted more.
He had to admit Shirasawa had the goods.
Even as a veteran shinobi and screenwriter, he'd found himself absorbed.
"Light Shadow, this will be the New Year's box office champion. No one will turn it down."
Shirasawa praised his own proud work. Makoto nodded; next came the publicity push.
He wasn't a film man. Beyond ample funding for promotion, he had nothing.
"Leave it to me."
Shirasawa smoothly scooped up the task.
His clout and authority in film far surpassed any village Kage.
Shirasawa left Makoto's office.
A messenger from Konoha arrived moments later at Akatsuki. After a basic screening, he was led to the Light Shadow Tower.
"Light Shadow, Lord Tobirama wishes to meet you."
"Oh."
"Senju Tobirama. Looks like he can't take the heat and has come to me."
Makoto received Tobirama's invitation.
According to his intelligence,
he knew the Daimyō and nobles had ordered Konoha to investigate, and Akatsuki agents on-site had already spotted Konoha shinobi moving.
Makoto was confident he'd left no flaws.
To catch him out was impossible.
After some thought,
Konoha was a force he could not completely circumvent.
So he didn't refuse—he simply chose one of the three counties for the meeting.
"Lord Tobirama, long time no see."
"What's so urgent you asked me out."
Makoto stepped into an elegantly furnished room.
It was an office of the Arasaka Corporation.
As he entered, he saw Tobirama's impassive face. The man was already seated, waiting.
Makoto paid no mind to the expression, flopped into a chair, and spoke lightly.
Tobirama's face grew colder. He thought of the crushing pressure of the past days while the culprit lounged before him. A nameless fire surged up.
For a moment the thought flashed—
Should he kill Makoto here
He only thought it.
He didn't dare, and he couldn't.
But he could still vent.
"Uchiha Makoto, you innately evil Uchiha brat. The massacre of that noble house in the Land of Fire—was it your Akatsuki shinobi who did it."
"You have no bottom line."
"The Daimyō is furious. He knows you did it. Konoha is investigating, and you will give me, give Konoha, give the Daimyō, give the Land of Fire an answer."
Tobirama skipped preamble, opening with the familiar "innately evil Uchiha brat," then demanded a reckoning.
Akatsuki would not walk away clean this time.
Konoha was not to be trifled with.
"Tch. I knew you were up to no good."
"I thought you wanted to talk canning-plant technology."
"On what basis do you claim Akatsuki did it. Did Konoha find proof."
"If you slap a charge on me as Light Shadow without evidence, do you think you're the Hokage. Do you use Wood Release. True Several Thousand Hands."
Makoto dug in his ear, unbothered.
He didn't care about Tobirama's threat.
If Konoha had solid evidence,
Tobirama would not have come alone; Senju Hashirama would be here.
Clearly Tobirama couldn't bear the pressure from those vermin and had come to seek a fix.
Coward.
"You—"
"Bastard."
Tobirama's face flushed iron blue. If he truly had Wood Release like his brother and could wield True Several Thousand Hands, he'd pound this "innately evil Uchiha brat" to dust.
He swallowed it.
Then he pulled out a stack of files, detailing Akatsuki shinobi's suspicious movements in that time frame, and the Arasaka Corporation's commercial disputes with the noble family. All of it pointed to Makoto ordering the murders for profit.
"Coincidence."
"What does it prove."
"My shinobi happened to be on assignment there. Arasaka took the chance to expand business. What's wrong with that."
"Is this evidence."
Makoto was unmoved.
It proved nothing.
Coincidence.
"How can there be so many coincidences. It was clearly for profit—you murdered an innocent noble house."
"Your Uchiha clan is a proud clan. How are you any different from gutter trash rogues who'd wipe out a family for gain. You disgrace to the Uchiha."
"You've shamed your ancestors."
"The Daimyō is giving you a chance by suppressing the news. If it leaks and the world knows, you will be the sinner of the Uchiha. You don't want a thousand years of Uchiha honor turned into a joke because of you."
Seeing Makoto play dead, Tobirama switched tactics.
He knew the Uchiha temperament well—pride to the bone. For clan honor, they would march to death.
Such words could make any Uchiha see red. Tobirama meant to provoke him.
With the news held down for now,
if it blew up,
even without conclusive proof, no one would be fooled. For Uchiha honor, Makoto would surely yield a little.
Hand over a few people.
End it.
But to Tobirama's surprise, Makoto's expression did not change. He was calm.
"Tobirama, have you ever been here before."
"No."
"Did you notice what's happening here now."
"No. What does that have to do with you murdering a noble house."
"Don't try to change the subject."
Focused on fixing the problem, always traveling by Body Flicker, Tobirama hadn't spared a glance for anything else.
Makoto stood and walked out.
He waved for Tobirama to follow.
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