Bang!
The door to the Hokage's office crashed open so hard that the ANBU standing there instinctively took a step back. Senju Hashirama filled the doorway like a storm: broad-shouldered, eyes flashing with a fierceness that made even seasoned shinobi uneasy. From the force of the push alone the ANBU could tell Hashirama's mood—this was no casual visit.
Across the room, Senju Tobirama remained seated behind the desk, expression outwardly composed but palms hidden beneath the table that betrayed his tension. The younger brother had always worn careful calm as armor; now that composure wavered but did not break.
"This is an unwelcome visit," the ANBU muttered to himself, and wisely backed out of the room. Two brothers arguing in the Hokage office was one thing; being an unintended casualty of their clash was another. He slipped away without another word, leaving the two brothers alone.
Hashirama didn't waste time on pleasantries. "Tobirama," he said, voice raw with fury. "Did you order the ANBU to rough up villagers this afternoon? Arrest them? How could you—how could you do that to our people?"
Tobirama's face remained still. The younger brother closed his eyes for a brief moment as though weighing words in private. He had expected Hashirama to be furious; he had not expected the full force of his brother's temper. But he also believed—fiercely—that his actions were necessary.
"So you think I'm wrong?" Tobirama asked after a beat.
"Of course," Hashirama shot back. His arms gestured as though he would physically push the accusation across the desk. "The ANBU are not to lay hands on villagers. Ever. I trusted you with the governance of Konoha, Tobirama. I trusted you to uphold what we built together. But this… this is unacceptable."
Hashirama's voice rose until it seemed to fill the room. Each sentence was a blade: sharp, decisive, and aimed deliberately at Tobirama's conscience. He spoke not only as Hokage but as an elder brother wounded by what he perceived as betrayal.
Tobirama listened, keeping his posture controlled. From his vantage point, the action had been calculated and unavoidable. The villagers had been stirring trouble—whispers, small gatherings, slander aimed at the village leadership—and Tobirama had seen the tinder. If the mob mentality had spread, if the Uchiha or some outside hand had turned public opinion into a weapon against the Senju-led administration, the consequences could be severe.
When Hashirama finally paused, Tobirama rose and spoke in even, measured tones. "Big Brother, hear me out. I did what I had to do. Those villagers were spreading rumors, undermining our authority, and even planning to gather and storm the Lord Hokage. If we allowed that to continue, it would set a dangerous precedent."
He described the afternoon's events in detail: the provocations overheard in markets, the pamphlets that spread slanderous half-truths about the Senju administration, the small but growing clusters of people ready to march to the Hokage Office. For Tobirama, the situation was a powder keg. He had not acted out of malice; he had acted to prevent a much larger disaster.
"I refused to let the village's decisions be subverted by mobs," Tobirama said. "I arranged for ANBU intervention to maintain order. Yes—the method was direct. Yes—some were roughed up. But the alternative was worse: the humiliation of the Hokage, and a fracture in the village's ability to govern itself."
Hashirama listened in stunned silence as his brother spoke. The picture Tobirama painted was serious indeed. Villagers gathering to demand the Hokage's abdication was not a simple protest—it was an assault on authority that could spiral into chaos. From one perspective, Tobirama's actions were decisive, even prudent.
Still, Hashirama could not reconcile the image of ANBU roughing up the people he had sworn to protect. The sight of frightened villagers avoiding him in market lanes, the way they flinched and scurried away whenever he passed—these images burned in Hashirama's mind. The village he dreamed of was warm and trusting, a place where shinobi and villagers could stand side by side. He had wanted Konoha to be a home built on mutual respect, not on fear.
"I don't care what your reasons are!" Hashirama's voice boomed. "You ordered our ANBU to beat our own people. That is unacceptable. The village is not a place of terror. We govern to protect and uplift, not to intimidate."
Tobirama replied sharply. "And if we bend to every rumor and allow mobs to decide policy, what becomes of governance? If we yield once, we invite chaos—cunning elements will test our leniency and push further. Leadership must be firm, Big Brother. Firmness preserves stability."
The tension between them crystallized: Hashirama believed in trust and dialogue; Tobirama believed in order and deterrence. Hashirama saw compassion as strength. Tobirama saw compassion without backbone as a liability.
"You think the villagers' grievances can be solved by words alone?" Tobirama continued, his voice rising but steady. "That they will not be manipulated by those who would use them as a tool against the village? We have to think long-term. A precedent of public insubordination must be crushed before it metastasizes."
Hashirama's eyes flashed. "And you call yourself a Senju? A protector? It is not protection to make our people afraid to breathe. If the villagers cannot trust us, what have we built?"
For a long while neither man moved. Each felt certain the other's view threatened the future of the village. The room hummed with the intensity of their opposing convictions.
At last, Tobirama looked away and lowered his voice. "I do not take pleasure in this. I asked ANBU to act because I smelled a larger plot—someone stirring the villagers to make a pretense of public outrage. If we do not act now, when the army moves, those same dissenters might block us, disrupt logistics, and undermine our authority. The enemy will exploit them."
Hashirama's anger softened into a complex sorrow. He remembered why he had trusted Tobirama with so much: the younger brother had a mind for structure, for the cold calculations that kept the village intact when emotion might lead to ruin. He had always protected Hashirama's soft heart with hard decisions.
The hawkish silence was broken by a new voice—one softer, but with the authority of kinship. Uzumaki Mito stepped into the doorway, having overheard the rising tumult from the next room. "What's going on in here? I could hear you two all the way next door," she chided, hands on her hips. Her presence had a calming effect; Mito's warmth and sensible mind had soothed many a household in Konoha.
Hashirama's shoulders loosened perceptibly when he saw her. "Mito, you came at the right time," he said. "Tobirama's actions today… he had the ANBU gather villagers and beat them."
Mito turned a critical eye on Tobirama. "Did you now? And for what reason?"
Tobirama, relieved that his plan had a witness in Mito, recounted the events again—not to justify cruelty but to demonstrate the danger he had mitigated. He explained how rumors had escalated into organized dissent, how he suspected a hidden hand behind the unrest, and how such disruptions could threaten Konoha's authority.
Mito listened with equal measures of compassion and pragmatism. "Hashirama, Tobirama," she said, "you are both thinking of Konoha's best interest. But you're arguing like two children. Hashirama, you cannot allow our people to live in fear; Tobirama, you cannot use force as a first resort."
She paced slowly, gathering her thoughts. "What Tobirama did may have been harsh, but his intention was to protect the village. Hashirama, your heart is pure—and that is why the villagers love you. However, sometimes purity must be paired with measures that prevent exploitation. If Mito had not been there, panic may have spread."
Hashirama bowed his head, conceding the truth with reluctance. Tobirama's plan had, after all, prevented what might have become a full-blown mob. Yet the method had wounded the village's trust. How to repair that trust without encouraging further unrest was the crux of the matter.
Mito's eyes settled on Tobirama. "You must make this right. The villagers were frightened and harmed. You need to release them, publicly apologize, and explain why you acted. If we do not heal the rift, it will fester."
Tobirama's jaw tightened. Public apology was humiliating to a man who prized order above all. But he also felt the weight of Mito's wisdom. She had the uncanny ability to bridge Hashirama's idealism and Tobirama's realism.
Reluctantly, Tobirama nodded. "Very well. I will release them and issue a formal statement. But I will not stand idle while dissension jeopardizes Konoha's future."
Hashirama's expression softened into something between relief and sorrow. "Then let us do it together," he said quietly. "We will present a united front. We will explain the danger that was afoot and the reasons for our actions, but we will also apologize for the fear caused. The future of Konoha depends on both firmness and compassion."
Mito smiled gently, pleased to see the two brothers inch toward reconciliation. "There you go. That is Konoha's way: we stand strong, but we never forget our people."
The three of them formed an uneasy but necessary coalition: Hashirama, the champion of harmony; Tobirama, the architect of order; and Mito, the steady heart connecting the two. Outside the office, the village awaited an explanation—one that would have to balance candidness with reassurance, justice with mercy.
As they prepared to leave and face their people, the brothers exchanged a look that carried a quiet promise. They would differ—perhaps for years to come—but they shared the same ultimate goal: the survival and prosperity of Konoha.
Whatever storms the future held, they would meet them together—each in his own way.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)