Chapter 5: A Lesson in Economics and a Hokage's Ire
Senju Hashirama, his face still sporting a few bruises, was shoveling rice into his mouth while watching Youya. The boy had one hand scooping food and the other held in a strange, claw-like shape, his face turning red with concentration.
"Little Youya, what are you doing?" Hashirama asked around a mouthful of food, his curiosity piqued.
Youya's face was flushed from holding his breath. "I'm practicing ninjutsu."
Two metaphorical question marks appeared above Hashirama's head. "Ninjutsu? What ninjutsu needs to be practiced like that?"
"Uncle Master taught me a ninjutsu called the Flying Thunder God Technique," Youya replied, before returning to his intense, breath-holding focus.
Uzumaki Mito, sitting gracefully across from them, frowned. "Stop that. Finish your meal first, then you can talk."
Youya insisted, "Wait! I feel something! I feel like I'm about to condense the first chakra rune!"
Uzumaki Mito set her chopsticks down with a soft click. She looked at Yuya, her smile gentle but her aura unmistakably dangerous. "Eat. Your. Food. First. Then we can talk about this. Okay?"
Youya froze for a second, sensing the imminent peril. He quickly dropped his hand and snatched up his chopsticks, stuffing a large bite of rice into his mouth.
Uzumaki Mito nodded, her smile becoming genuine again. "Good boy."
Senju Hashirama's eyelid twitched. Mito, do you know that treating a child like this will leave a psychological shadow on him?
However, these thoughts were strictly confined to the privacy of his own mind. He would never, ever dare to voice them aloud.
The next day, Yuya shouldered his backpack and went to the Hokage Tower early in the morning.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Enter." Tobirama's calm voice came from the other side of the door.
Youya raised his hand, turned the knob, and pushed the door open, peeking inside cautiously.
Senju Tobirama was looking over a planning document on his desk, not bothering to glance up. "What are you looking for?"
Youya chuckled awkwardly. "Just checking to see if the three uncles from yesterday are here."
"It's not like they have nothing else to do," Tobirama replied, his brow furrowed in thought as he finally signed his name on the project proposal.
Youya scurried over, planted his hands on the desk, and looked at the document, tilting his head. "What's this?"
The Second Hokage's desk was piled high with two stacks of "documents pending processing," but this particular one had made him frown so deeply, which meant it definitely wasn't simple.
Tobirama wasn't angry. In his view, it was normal for children to be curious about everything. In fact, it was precisely this innate curiosity that gave them the capacity to learn from the heart. He had actually rather enjoyed his time as a teacher at the Academy. Unfortunately, he was Hokage now, with countless matters demanding his attention every day, and he hadn't taken on any new personal students in nearly a decade.
"Huh? 'Wetland Bridge Project'? What's this?" Yuya mumbled, reading. "'Applying for five Earth Release Jonin to assist in bridge construction'? Why use Jonin for that?"
Seeing Yuya's confused head tilt, Tobirama shook his head. He's just a child, after all. It's normal he wouldn't understand these complexities.
Tobirama reached out and ruffled Yuya's hair. "With the help of Jonin, we can build this bridge in a single day. Then, by next autumn, everyone can go to the wetlands to gather herbs and fruits."
Yuya looked at Tobirama. "But if that's the case, why use the Jonin? Build the bridge in one day and then just let it sit until next autumn?"
Tobirama blinked. "Huh? Is there a problem?"
Yuya frowned, his expression serious. "Why not have ordinary people build this bridge?"
Tobirama waved a hand dismissively. "Ordinary people are too inefficient. It's better to have ninjas do it—"
"But Uncle Master, you said yourself the bridge won't be used until next autumn, right?"
Tobirama opened his mouth, then closed it, his frown deepening as he looked at Yuya. "What do you know, you little brat? This isn't just about efficiency. It's also about creating a mission for five Jonin. There aren't that many missions available for ninjas within Konoha itself. If they can't get missions, the Jonin don't get paid, which impacts their livelihoods and their training."
Yuya blinked his large, innocent eyes. "Is that so? But I was thinking, instead of paying five Jonin, wouldn't it be better to hire hundreds of ordinary people? That way, they'd have jobs and income until the bridge is finished."
Senju Tobirama stared at Yuya's guileless expression and fell into a deep silence. After a moment, he turned his head away, his face blank. "What are you actually here for?"
Yuya immediately raised his hand, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Look, look! I've completed the first rune for the Flying Thunder God Seal!"
Senju Tobirama: "..."
"You've barely started and you're this proud? Go back and keep practicing," Tobirama said, utterly unimpressed.
Youya pouted. "Getting the start right is the hardest part! The rest will be easy, won't it? And, Uncle, don't forget..." Yuya narrowed his eyes slyly. "I paid over ten kilograms of gold for this. If you think about it, I gave you so much gold, and all you taught me was this one ninjutsu. Isn't that a bit... unfair?!"
Senju Tobirama finally understood the real reason for this early morning visit. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the blood vessel he felt throbbing in his temple, and forced a smile. "Little Yuya, this ninjutsu is a very powerful technique. It's definitely worth the price of ten kilograms of gold."
Youya curled his lip. "You're the one who says that, Uncle. Who can guarantee it's really worth it?"
There was a saying: the work of a living artist and the work of a dead artist had two completely different values. While Senju Tobirama wasn't an artist, the principle was the same. While he was alive, he had invented over a thousand ninjutsu. Could it truly be said that each one received immense attention and value? Not really. Otherwise, a ninja of common birth like Namikaze Minato wouldn't have been given the opportunity to learn the Flying Thunder God later on. Of course, one could argue that Minato's approval from the Third Hokage, his own military exploits, and his prodigious talent were all factors. But it was impossible to claim the technique was considered extremely valuable at this point in time. After all, its creator was still alive, not very old, and had decades of life ahead of him. The world was at peace. There were frictions between villages, but no major wars. Things in peacetime simply weren't valued the same way. Just like gold—the value of gold in wartime and the value of gold in peacetime were two different things.
Senju Tobirama was furious. Yes, I invented this jutsu! In my eyes, its value is indeed no less than your dozen kilograms of gold! But that's me! Can you learn this jutsu from anyone else in the world?! No! In that sense, my ninjutsu is priceless! You can't buy it with money!
After Tobirama finished explaining this—through slightly gritted teeth—Yuya just stared back with dead-fish eyes. "Then give me back my gold."
Tobirama: "..."
Taking another, deeper breath, Senju Tobirama looked at Yuya and offered a strained, painfully forced smile. "Tell me, then. What other ninjutsu do you want to learn? Don't push your luck."
His first thought was that the boy wanted to learn one of his elder brother's legendary, world-shaking techniques.
To his utter astonishment, Yuya answered without a moment's hesitation: "The Clone Technique! I want to learn the Clone Technique! We have an exam at the Academy in a few days, and I still haven't learned it properly. Uncle, please teach me!"
Senju Tobirama's horselike face stiffened for a full three seconds. Then, a wave of pure, unadulterated fury washed over him. "GET OUT!" he roared, aiming a kick at Yuya's backside. "GET OUT OF HERE!"
I thought you were going to ask me to teach you calculus, and instead you ask me to teach you the multiplication table?! Are you insulting me, a Doctor of Ninjutsu?!
After unceremoniously booting Yuya out of his office, Senju Tobirama sat back down at his desk, pressing his fingers against his throbbing temples. As he massaged his aching head, his eyes fell back upon the Wetland Bridge construction plan.
After a long, silent moment, a slow, thoughtful smile spread across Senju Tobirama's face. He stood up, walked to the window, and, without a second thought, climbed out, heading straight for a certain establishment on Konoha's commercial street. He needed to have a very serious word with his older brother.