Kenta Imai had been unusually quiet for some time.
Ever since he and Uchiha Kai raided one of Orochimaru's abandoned laboratories and uncovered a list of subjects used in human experimentation, he had been in shock. Among the names was one that disturbed him deeply—Senju Hashirama, the First Hokage.
To desecrate the body of the man who built Konoha with Uchiha Madara… It was unthinkable.
Even in death, Hashirama hadn't found peace.
Kenta hadn't dared to share the information with his family. The remnants of the Senju clan, though now faded and scattered, still revered their founder like a god. What would they do if they learned the truth? Riots? Rebellion? A dangerous overreach?
The outcome was all too easy to imagine. Even though the Third Hokage had stepped down, it was clear to Kenta that the Fourth—Minato Namikaze—wasn't fully in control yet. The Uchiha had moved strategically to support Minato's rise, but the old guard, the so-called "Council of Elders," still held sway in the shadows.
Kai hadn't hidden his clan's maneuverings. Kenta had watched silently, his mouth shut tight, as he often did.
But now, he questioned what they had gained. Despite backing the new Hokage, the Uchiha saw little reward. And if his own clan acted out now, they could be met with brutal suppression. Cleansing. A second Uchiha Massacre in all but name—except this time, it could target the scattered Senju.
So he contemplated.
Should he deepen his cooperation with Uchiha Kai?
Their alliance had started out of necessity—a convergence of interests. Kenta knew his relationship with Kai wasn't based on friendship. It was tactical. Professional. Kai needed trustworthy operatives within the Security Department, and Kenta had played his part.
But now, that wasn't enough.
Kai had pulled off the impossible—supporting a new Hokage in the wake of the Third's long reign. But to Kenta's eyes, Minato looked more like a figurehead than a leader. A puppet propped up to appease the people, while the same power brokers whispered in the dark.
Uchiha Kai had vision, and more importantly, results.
And Kenta? Kenta wanted to matter. To climb out of the long-forgotten legacy of the Senju.
He had no delusions about his standing. Though trained under the philosophy of the Senju, he carried no hatred for the Uchiha. If anything, his bitterness was directed inward—toward the system that allowed the Senju to fade, dismantled and absorbed into the civilian ranks during Hiruzen Sarutobi's tenure.
The so-called "Will of Fire" had hollowed out the very clan that helped found the village.
Kenta understood now why Kai fought so fiercely to carve out his voice.
He used to think Kai was reckless, putting himself in the spotlight. But now… he saw the necessity. Influence didn't come from the shadows. Not forever. If you didn't seize your place at the table, you became someone else's pawn—or worse, a scapegoat.
"This has to change," he muttered to himself.
Kenta had never been an idealist. He didn't fight for dreams—he fought for leverage. For position. But this time, he was ready to act. He knew his value. He could be more than just the "civilian-born swordsman" that Kai used as an example of ninja meritocracy.
He wanted deeper collaboration. A voice of his own.
The old Senju, especially those who remembered the First and Second Hokage, still bore animosity toward the Uchiha. Chief among them was Senju Shojin—his grandfather and the clan's de facto head. Shojin still had influence among the aging remnants of their once-proud family.
"I need to see Kai," Kenta decided. "Find out what he wants. If it's reasonable… I'll bring it to Grandfather."
Their resources were limited. The Senju weren't a clan in the traditional sense anymore. They had no compound, no large estate—just a handful of families held together by shared blood and fading pride.
If Kai's price was too high, they'd be forced to walk away.
But if not? Then maybe, just maybe, the Senju could rise again—not as tools of Konoha, but as equal partners in its future.
"Back then," Kenta murmured, "the Uchiha and the Senju founded Konoha side by side… why not now?"
Even after defeating Madara Uchiha, the First Hokage had hoped for reconciliation. Some scrolls even hinted that Hashirama had proposed Madara take the title of Hokage, but the village's distrust had prevailed.
Yes, times were different. But the principle stood.
Kenta might not bear the Senju name himself—he'd taken his civilian father's surname—but the blood still ran through his veins.
Tomorrow, when Uchiha Kai returned to the Security Department, he would be waiting.
He knew Kai had been absent lately, likely involved in some dubious experiment with Hyūga Aya. Kenta wasn't entirely comfortable with it—Kai's obsession with genetics and dōjutsu borders on madness—but even he had to admit Aya's Byakugan gave her advantages in certain fields.
In the realm of science, Kenta couldn't match her. But politics? Strategy? Influence?
He could compete. And he would.
Elsewhere…
"Obito, are you really going through with this?"
In the hollow depths of a cave, Black Zetsu's voice echoed through the dark.
"Konoha's security is tighter than ever," it warned. "Slipping in during the Nine-Tails' release… is no small feat. And don't forget—Uchiha Kai is there. He's the current head of the Konoha Military Police."
Zetsu wasn't concerned about Obito's safety. Between Kamui and the cells of Hashirama embedded in his body, Obito was near unstoppable. But Uchiha Kai was a wild card—a rare Mangekyō Sharingan user with dangerous instincts.
Even Minato Namikaze, "The Yellow Flash," didn't worry Zetsu half as much.
"No one knows Konoha's layout better than I do," Obito said coldly. "The Nine-Tails will be freed. The chaos will cover my tracks."
He paused. His tone sharpened.
"And if Kai shows up… I'll deal with him myself."
That name burned in his memory—Uchiha Kai.
He hadn't forgotten the humiliation. Their last battle had left a scar on his pride. Kai had exposed weaknesses in his Kamui technique—exploiting moments of materialization with deadly precision. It had shaken him.
But he wasn't the same boy anymore.
He had studied. He had trained. Under Zetsu's guidance, he had mastered far more than any jōnin of Konoha could imagine. He understood now the cost of overusing the Mangekyō. The creeping blindness. The strain on body and soul.
He doubted Kai's eyes would last much longer.
"I'll show him," Obito muttered. "We'll see how long he lasts in a real war."
Zetsu didn't reply immediately. He, too, had his grudges. Kai's fire jutsu had once burned one of Madara's hidden strongholds to ash. Zetsu had never forgotten.
"A venomous snake, that one," Zetsu finally said. "He hides behind honor, but we both know what's beneath the mask."
Obito smirked, hatred simmering. "Let him come. This time, I'm ready."