The Hokage's office was unusually quiet that morning. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, glinting off scrolls stacked neatly on the shelves. The air smelled faintly of ink, paper, and polished wood, carrying with it the weight of decisions that shaped the destiny of a village.
Senju Hashirama stood tall in the center of the room, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow across the floor. Beside him, arms folded and expression unreadable, stood Uchiha Madara. Together, they faced Senju Tobirama, who sat behind the Hokage's desk.
Although Tobirama was only the acting Hokage during his brother's absence, he carried himself with the same stern dignity he always did. His sharp eyes flicked from Hashirama to Madara, his lips tightening into a thin line.
By convention, a Hokage rarely went on missions once they assumed leadership. It was unthinkable for the leader of a great shinobi village to take unnecessary risks. Yet Hashirama—ever the exception to every rule—insisted otherwise. He was not only the First Hokage but also a warrior who believed his strength must still be used directly for the village.
Tobirama, as always, felt both pride and exasperation toward his elder brother.
"Big Brother," Tobirama began, his voice calm but edged with warning, "I knew this would happen. That plan you spoke of before—it is nothing but a waste of Konoha's precious funds. But since you refuse to abandon it, I'll allow you to act as you please. Still, when you leave this village, you must be cautious. No reckless behavior. Do not cause a commotion that spreads across the entire shinobi world."
His words were steady, yet his gaze lingered uneasily on Madara, who stood at Hashirama's side like a dark, silent storm.
Madara's crimson eyes flicked briefly toward Tobirama before turning away, his face carved into stone. He did not bother to hide the disdain he held for the man before him. To Madara, Tobirama was not worth the effort of acknowledgment—merely an obstacle born of prejudice, always branding the Uchiha as "inherently dangerous."
But Tobirama's feelings were hardly different.
If it were possible, Tobirama would have preferred never to cross paths with Madara at all. He had long ago labeled him as "inherently evil," a man who could never be trusted. Yet here was his brother, insisting on dragging the Uchiha leader along. That, more than the mission itself, unsettled him.
In terms of raw power, both Hashirama and Madara were unmatched. An S-rank mission to them was no more difficult than a child's sparring game. Failure was not what Tobirama feared. What he dreaded was something far worse—Hashirama and Madara turning their blades against one another in some sudden argument, their legendary powers clashing with catastrophic results.
He could still remember incidents in the past. During an escort mission, Hashirama had lost control of his strength for just an instant. A single strike meant to protect the convoy instead obliterated the very goods they were hired to safeguard. The mission reward vanished, and Konoha had even been forced to pay compensation. In the end, both brothers had personally bowed their heads to the client, an embarrassment Tobirama never forgot.
"Do you understand, Big Brother?" Tobirama pressed, his tone carrying that familiar sharpness of an older sibling forced into the role of caretaker.
Hashirama chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes, yes, I know! You don't need to remind me every time. That incident was ages ago. At the time, I had just made a huge breakthrough in my strength—I wasn't fully used to it yet. It won't happen again, I promise."
He waved his hand dismissively, as though to sweep away Tobirama's concerns. Then his face brightened with a boyish grin that seemed out of place on someone called the "God of Shinobi."
"Since that's settled, Madara and I will be off. I leave Konoha in your hands for now." He paused, scratching his chin. "Oh, right—I almost forgot. I haven't told Mito about this trip yet. When you go home tonight, remember to tell her for me."
Tobirama's eye twitched.
"Big Brother, you coward," he muttered under his breath as Hashirama grabbed Madara's arm and all but dragged him out of the office. "Every time you sneak out on some mission, you dump the responsibility of telling Sister-in-law on me. And then I'm the one who gets scolded!"
The door closed behind them with a heavy thud, leaving Tobirama alone in the office. He sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair. His thoughts went briefly to Mito, whose Adamantine Sealing Chains were infamous. If she lost her temper, even Hashirama himself wouldn't be spared. And now, once again, Tobirama would be the messenger caught in the crossfire.
Shaking his head, he reached for a book lying on the desk. The title read: New Ninja.
This was no ordinary magazine. Ever since Tobirama had noticed Hashirama's worsening fascination with the strange philosophies and practices of the Akatsuki Ninja Village, he had begun collecting every issue himself. Funded heavily by Uchiha Makoto, the village's so-called "Light Shadow," New Ninja had rapidly grown in circulation until nearly everyone in Konoha had heard of it.
At first glance, it was just another periodical—articles on culture, stories, and essays, not unlike countless others. Yet in every issue, there was always one short essay that stood out, a piece that carried a subtle but undeniable power.
Tobirama had already seen the effects firsthand. Words alone should not be so influential, and yet they swayed hearts with disarming ease. And disturbingly, the protagonist of many of these essays was none other than Akatsuki Village, founded by Uchiha Makoto—the man Tobirama regarded with deep suspicion.
He tapped the cover thoughtfully. Should I take action?
Part of him wanted to order the suppression of New Ninja immediately. The way it planted ideas in the minds of shinobi and civilians alike felt dangerous, even insidious. But he was restrained by cold logic. The magazine had published nothing that directly violated Konoha's laws. To move against it without just cause would invite backlash from the public and retaliation from Akatsuki Village. It would also give Makoto the excuse to paint Konoha as the oppressor.
Tobirama exhaled slowly. No. I'll wait. But I must watch carefully.
With that, he opened the latest issue. His eyes quickly landed on a new short essay—and within moments, his stern expression shifted into reluctant astonishment.
---
The essay described a peculiar law in Akatsuki Ninja Village. When children enrolled in the village's ninja academy, each received two vouchers from their teachers. One was a "book voucher," exchangeable for any book. The other was a "honey voucher," exchangeable for a small jar of honey produced within the village. The rules stated both vouchers had to be used together.
At first, no one understood the meaning behind this law.
Then came the day when Uchiha Makoto himself addressed the students. He appeared not in ceremonial robes, but carrying a worn, old book. Opening the flyleaf, he revealed a water stain shaped like a drop of honey.
"Fifty years ago," he began, "my grandfather was the poorest genin of our clan. One day, while he was away on a mission, his house caught fire. When he returned, everything was gone. He managed to save only two things—this ninjutsu manual, edges curled by the flames, and half a jar of honey."
Makoto's voice grew softer. "My grandfather always said the ninjutsu book contained the principles that shaped our future, while the honey was a small sweetness to soften the bitterness of the lessons ahead."
He then pulled out a proposal—the "Akatsuki Ninja Village Research and Development Fund Addition." On its cover was the same symbol of honey.
"From today onward," Makoto declared, "for every book voucher used, the Ministry of Finance will allocate 1,790 ryō to the Research and Development Fund. This money will be available for children under twelve—to buy books, tools, even wrenches for their projects. The only condition is that their budget report must include a page from their favorite book."
The audience had fallen into stunned silence. Then, gradually, whispers spread. "Buying books can save money? Research for children?"
Makoto only smiled. "Books are seeds. Research is the tree. The Ministry of Finance is simply harvesting the shade of those trees in advance."
Days later, the ninja academy bookstore was filled with long lines of eager students. Titles such as Three Years as a Medical Ninja, Five Years as a Medical Master and Introduction to Fire Release Chakra Nature vanished from shelves. Outside, the owner wrote on a chalkboard: Today's Hot Pick—Introduction to Fire Release Chakra Nature: In Stock.
Within two months, entire classes of students had already mastered the basics of Fire Release. At a school performance, they combined their skills to spell out a fiery phrase in the sky: Books are sweet, and so is the funding.
A proverb quickly spread throughout Akatsuki Village: The more you read, the faster the funding is spent; the faster the funding is spent, the faster ninjutsu is learned.
Even the visiting daimyō, traveling incognito, witnessed the children's fiery display. Struck with realization, he whispered to his secretary, "Do you see? The backbone of Akatsuki is not ninjutsu alone, but the belief that knowledge is a seed, and wealth is the spring water that nurtures it. One day, this village will stand not just as the strongest, but also the wealthiest in the shinobi world."
---
Tobirama closed the magazine slowly, his fingers lingering on the page. His sharp mind replayed every line of the essay. He hated to admit it, but there was brilliance hidden in those words.
For the first time in a long while, Senju Tobirama—cold, logical, and stubborn—felt a quiet doubt stir in his heart.
Perhaps I truly was wrong.
Perhaps… there is something to learn from Akatsuki Village after all.
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