"I just want an apology and justice—can you give it to me? As long as you can find Sarutobi Shinnosuke, who tried to assassinate me." Senju
"I just want an apology and justice—can you give it to me? As long as you can find Sarutobi Shinnosuke, who tried to assassinate me."
Senju Nawaki's face was filled with grievance, and even Jiraiya couldn't find words to respond.
Judging from everything so far, Nawaki was clearly the victim. The only issue was the question he posed: 'Where is Sarutobi Shinnosuke? What exactly did he do?'
The conditions Nawaki had set sounded deceptively simple.
All they needed to do was find Sarutobi Shinnosuke.
But now, Shinnosuke was trapped inside Nawaki's own 'soul space'—no one would ever be able to find him.
That single condition had completely cut off the Senju clan's path to ever returning to Konoha.
…
"Sarutobi Shinnosuke…?"
Hatake Sakumo muttered the name under his breath, searching for any trace of his presence.
They had all seen Shinnosuke walk in with their own eyes.
But was that truly Shinnosuke, or merely his shadow clone? If it wasn't real, then where had the original gone?
When he entered, the first thing Sakumo noticed was Nawaki's injuries. But after searching for signs of Shinnosuke's chakra, he had found nothing.
'Could it really be as Nawaki claimed? That what we saw was only a clone…?'
Sakumo clenched the forehead protector in his hand and let out a long sigh.
More and more, he was beginning to believe Nawaki was simply caught in the endless struggles of Konoha's upper echelons.
And he could already foresee the storm this would bring.
On one side stood the current rulers of Konoha—the Sarutobi clan.
On the other hand, the very founders of Konoha—the Senju clan.
If this conflict wasn't handled carefully, Konoha itself would splinter.
And such a thing was far beyond his ability to manage.
…
Nawaki had changed into clean clothes and sat on the hospital bed Senju Dōma had created with Wood Release.
He exhaled slowly. His injuries, though severe, had almost healed—his body's cellular activity and vitality had become his greatest weapon.
If he hadn't reacted quickly and swapped clothes, Sakumo might have noticed the truth.
That was also why Senju Dōma hadn't let Tsunade get too close.
The sharp-eyed Orochimaru had already sensed something was off but had chosen to remain silent.
Nawaki's gaze drifted toward Tsunade.
She stood there disheveled, her eyes clouded with conflict. She still hadn't chosen a side.
He let out a quiet sigh. In truth, there was no choice left.
The decision had already been made.
Tsunade wouldn't be leaving Konoha with him.
He gave a subtle nod to Senju Dōma. The time had come.
The Senju clan would no longer hide in the darkness of Konoha.
Dōma returned the nod, pulled out a flare, and launched it high into the sky.
Whoosh!
A red flare burst open above the Konoha camp, forming the emblem of the Senju clan against the night sky.
In the camp, Senju clan shinobi immediately raised their heads.
One by one, they tore the Konoha forehead protectors from their brows. For the first time in years, their expressions carried relief.
They were exhausted—exhausted from Konoha's endless suppression.
Despite being the founding clan of the village, despite giving everything, they had suffered the deepest injustice.
After Tobirama's death, the order to "integrate" into Konoha had become nothing more than a shackle—chains designed to control and bleed them dry.
They had been forced to do the dirtiest, most grueling missions. Yet their rewards were less than those of ordinary shinobi.
Their future had been reduced to nothing but slow decay.
But now… now there was hope.
All across the camp, Senju shinobi dropped what they were doing and began to move.
…
"Takagi, what are you doing? That signal will definitely draw attention. Go guard the perimeter!"
A Chūnin from the Sarutobi clan barked orders at an older shinobi.
They were camp guards—responsible for reacting in emergencies, preventing attacks or accidents.
But the hunched old man straightened. His eyes sharpened, his aura suddenly oppressive.
"Who do you think you are, brat? How dare you—just a Chūnin—order me around? Trash from the Sarutobi clan, and without the slightest manners."
The Sarutobi shinobi froze. This was no ordinary camp hand.
For years he had thought Takagi was just a washed-up Genin, a tool pressed into servitude. But now, standing tall, the man's presence outshone even his own captain.
"You… you're a Konoha shinobi! I'm the squad captain, you're supposed to obey!" the Sarutobi Chūnin stammered.
He was the son of a Sarutobi elder, placed as a 'captain' despite still being a Chūnin. The man before him had always been treated as his underling.
But the truth was something else entirely.
The elder shinobi's voice cut cold through the air.
"To this day, I don't even remember my real name. My true name… is Senju Satō."
Gasps spread among the onlookers.
Once a proud Jōnin of the Senju, Sato had been stripped of his rank when Tobirama disbanded the clan. His surname stolen, his strength buried under forced reclassification, reduced to a Genin.
For the sake of his wife and child, he had swallowed his pride, serving under scum like this Sarutobi brat.
But the humiliation never ended.
Now, with the Senju flare blazing above them, his pride returned.
From his pouch, he drew out a worn forehead protector. The metal plate gleamed faintly, engraved with the Senju clan's crest.
He tied it firmly around his forehead.
Eyes turned toward him, awed. The Senju were rising again.
Sato's gaze shifted toward the rear of the camp—toward the medical tents where Nawaki was.
"The Senju clan… will rise once more."
With a blur of motion, he vanished, rushing toward Nawaki's location.
The Sarutobi guards were left frozen in shock.
"Captain… I think something big just happened," one whispered. "We need to report this back to the village immediately."
His voice trembled. When he saw Senju Sato proudly don the Senju forehead protector again, fear had spread through his veins.
Konoha's fragile dominance on the battlefield had come largely from grinding down the Senju's foundation.
And now… that foundation had begun to rebel.
…
Across the Konoha camp, the same scene played out.
Too many Senju shinobi who had endured years of suppression finally cast off their masks.
Some flung aside their Konoha headbands. Others broke into open fights with Sarutobi and Shimura retainers.
The truth became impossible to deny—these 'Genin' who had been intentionally reclassified were no ordinary soldiers. Their suppressed strength burst forth, proving their titles had been nothing but shackles.
And for once, no one dared stop them.
Every last one of them rushed toward the glowing Senju emblem in the sky.
The camp erupted in chaos.
From the shadows, spies of other villages watched in silence. Their hearts leapt with joy.
They scribbled notes furiously, preparing to transmit word back to their superiors.
At last… something is happening in Konoha.
The Senju clan had begun their return.