"The inherently evil little Uchiha really is still too young. What matters most right now is building the village, training more ninja, and taking on more missions. Instead, he's wasting time on nonsense!"
Seated at his desk, Senju Tobirama flipped through the latest intelligence reports concerning Amegakure. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Raised in the brutal logic of the Warring States Era, Tobirama simply could not understand Uchiha Makoto's current course of action. Commerce was not his strength—nor something he instinctively trusted.
More importantly, the lesson from not long ago was still painfully fresh.
That damned tulip business had not only inexplicably drained the village of a huge sum of money, but had also landed Konoha with an unfounded accusation!
Was that lesson still not deep enough?
Ninja should do what ninja are meant to do!
"Only the inherently evil Uchiha would engage in such heretical behavior. Already, some of the Fire Country's nobles are displeased with Uchiha Makoto. Given time, Konoha's mission requests will inevitably increase."
"So what if Amegakure negotiated a thirty–seventy split? The clients specifically request Konoha by name!"
Tobirama felt quite pleased with himself.
In his sharp, calculating gaze flickered a light that seemed to pierce through the fog of time itself. He had already keenly sensed that the Fire Country nobility's attitude toward Amegakure was rapidly souring.
"Hmph. Clumsy Uchiha Makoto."
After covertly reviewing the intelligence, Tobirama organized the documents and locked them away in his cabinet.
Ever since being misunderstood as a "plagiarist," this cautious behavior had become part of his daily routine.
Soon after, Tobirama began his usual workload.
He opened the towering stack of paperwork on his desk, skillfully flipping straight to the last line and reading upward. This, he believed, was a basic qualification of a competent Hokage—an efficient way to process documents at maximum speed.
"Another clan trying to scam funding."
"This one too—budget fraud."
"Rejected."
"Rejected."
He scribbled "Rejected" several times, then rubbed his brow in irritation. These ninja clans would invent any excuse imaginable just to siphon funds!
And the root cause of this mess?
Naturally, his dear elder brother.
That bastard of a big brother had absolutely no sense of confidentiality!
Normally, village finances were classified at the highest level. In Amegakure, Uchiha Makoto had never disclosed their exact funds, so the local clans only knew that their "Light Shadow" was wealthy—exceptionally so—but had no idea how much money there actually was.
But the moment Senju Hashirama returned, he went around loudly proclaiming their enormous gains in the Land of Fire. When questioned, he answered honestly—too honestly. Before anyone could stop him, he'd let slip that they'd brought back ten billion ryō in funding!
An astronomical sum.
Konoha's clans went mad.
But every single ryō of that money had to be carefully allocated. Resources had to be used where they mattered most—such as Tobirama's scientific research—only then could a small amount be approved.
"Little brother! What a coincidence—you're in the office too."
A furtive figure peeked in through the doorway. Tobirama didn't even need to look up to know who it was.
"Big brother, what a coincidence indeed. If I remember correctly, you've been absent from this office for three straight days. If you hadn't shown up today, I might have forgotten you're still the Hokage."
Tobirama raised his head, staring at Hashirama's sheepish expression with a completely deadpan face.
"Hahaha—sorry, sorry."
"Well, you're here, after all. You know I've never been good at this sort of thing. Even back when I was clan head, most matters were handled by you."
Hashirama scratched the back of his head, unfazed by the sarcasm. He knew his own shortcomings well. Better to leave these matters to Tobirama—and save time to hang out happily with Madara… ah, and Mito too.
"Speak, big brother. What do you want this time?"
"My time is very valuable."
Tobirama's face remained cold, clearly signaling: Get to the point.
And his instincts were screaming—
This won't be anything good.
"I want to apply for some funding."
"Absolutely not!"
"Let me be clear, big brother. I will never allow you to waste Konoha's precious funds on gambling. Never."
Tobirama rejected him reflexively.
His brother was a notorious gambling addict.
Not only had he gambled away all the allowance his sister-in-law gave him, he constantly borrowed money—and never repaid it. And now this shameless brother was eyeing village funds?!
"Tobirama, you misunderstand me!"
"How could I possibly gamble with village funds? At most, I'd use my own allowance… or yours."
Tobirama: "Not mine either!"
"This time, it's for a proper cause. For all of Konoha!"
Hashirama declared solemnly. The seriousness on his face genuinely startled Tobirama.
This is suspicious. Extremely suspicious.
Could it be that the inherently evil Uchiha Madara was manipulating his naive brother to siphon village funds?
Very possible.
With ten billion ryō on the table, the Uchiha clan would naturally be tempted too.
And Tobirama rejected such schemes without hesitation.
He treated even the Senju clan no differently—public business was public business. No favoritism. That was his principle as the "Shadow Hokage."
Even his own research funds were painstakingly saved bit by bit.
"Big brother, if the Uchiha are pushing you from behind to scam funding, you'd better confess now. You can't fool me."
Tobirama looked exhausted. Guarding against the Uchiha was one thing—guarding against his own brother was another.
"Of course not!"
"This is entirely my own idea!"
Hashirama insisted.
As Hokage, he had to contribute to Konoha. With that, he pulled out two books from his pocket.
One was titled New Ninja.
The other: Romance of the Warring States.
Tobirama stared. "What are these?"
"Ah—sorry, I grabbed an extra one. Romance of the Warring States is a novel Madara and I have been reading lately. Shame the author only updates once per day. I wish they'd do three chapters daily."
Tobirama rolled his eyes. "Neglecting your duties!"
"I found it—this one!"
Ignoring him, Hashirama flipped New Ninja open to the latest short story.
"The Kindness One Should Have When Born in Amegakure"
(The short story is rendered faithfully and polished below)
At the corners of Amegakure's streets, old wooden boxes had appeared without anyone knowing when. One sat beneath the eaves of a ninja tool shop. The box was unlocked. Eight red-painted characters adorned its lid:
"Take what you need. Add what you can."
Inside, velvet lining cushioned several tens of thousands of ryō.
A young genin, fresh from a D-rank mission, limped past with an injured leg. His forehead protector hung crookedly. The money in his pocket was only enough for bandages. He hesitated—then took two thousand ryō, the fee for a medical-nin visit.
As his fingers brushed the velvet, he touched the kunai at his waist and silently vowed, I'll return it after my next mission.
A ramen shop owner passed by after closing, glanced inside, and placed three hundred ryō from his pouch into the box. Nearby, a rice-ball girl stood on tiptoe and gently added a few hundred more. Cherry petals drifted down, landing on the coins like a brooch pinned to the box.
Three days later, the injured genin returned. His wound had healed; his forehead protector was worn properly. He placed three thousand ryō into the box—one thousand more than before.
Someone had carved small words into the stone slab beside it:
"Borrowed two thousand yesterday. Returned three thousand today. Thank you."
From the shadows, a patrolling jōnin watched. An orphan ninja once twisted his ankle during training and took money for medicine. Clan-born ninja with comfortable lives would always toss in a coin while muttering complaints—yet still pause for half a second.
An elderly woman selling oden tended the fire beside the box. The money steadily grew—sometimes even jeweled purses appeared, secretly left by jōnin. She added radishes to the pot and muttered:
"This box is warmer than my soup. It carries the village's shared warmth."
A month later, the box was repainted. The red letters shone brighter. At the bottom lay a note from the injured genin:
"Headbands get dirty. The light in one's heart does not."
Beside it was another line, seemingly in the Light Shadow's handwriting:
"Troublesome as it is—we can't let the light go out."
What a village—so tacit, so fervent, carrying the Will of Fire!
A certain daimyō learned the truth: the boxes and the initial funds were all placed by the Light Shadow himself. The daimyō tapped his attendant's shoulder and said:
"See? This is Amegakure's foundation. Not powerful ninjutsu—but the quiet habit of lending a stepping stone when someone falls, then wiping it clean for the next person."
I cannot help but reflect: if the ninja world learned from this wooden box, hatred might have long since been warmed into soup.
If other villages cannot do this, perhaps it is because they still cling to the lingering flaws of the Warring States Era.
Tobirama finished reading in silence, deeply shaken—his mind felt as if its wrinkles had been smoothed flat.
Hashirama, meanwhile, was already misty-eyed.
This was the future he dreamed of.
The light of the ninja world.
A village where people understood and supported one another—where Konoha could truly become a home cherished by all.
"Konoha must learn from Amegakure," Hashirama said firmly. "We must grow step by step."
"I want to apply for two million ryō. Fifty boxes across Konoha, each with forty thousand ryō. This is the first step toward a village of mutual support—and a vital step for Konoha's future!"
"Two million?" Tobirama frowned. "Do you realize that's the reward for two S-rank missions?"
The article was moving—but something felt off.
Konoha was… complicated.
Clan ninja, civilians, relocated refugees, merchants—leave money out overnight, and it would vanish before dawn.
Even with ample funds, this was pure waste.
"I object," Tobirama said flatly. "What if all that money disappears overnight?"
"Then that's Konoha's flaw!" Hashirama replied painfully.
"And that flaw must be changed!"
"If two million is gone, we add another two million—along with education and guidance. One day, these flaws will vanish."
"Because we cannot stop just because it's difficult!"
Hashirama's voice rang with righteousness.
"This is for Konoha."
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