Senju Tobirama read the short story again and again before finally setting down the slim volume of New Ninja with obvious reluctance.
He muttered to himself, voice low but filled with surprise, "Impressive… this short story is truly remarkable. I never imagined that Uchiha Makoto—that infamously troublesome Uchiha brat—could display such insight. Knowledge really is power."
Tobirama's pale eyes narrowed as he reflected on what he'd read.
"If policies like this continue, the overall quality of ninja from Akatsuki Village will soon surpass that of Konoha. Terrifying… absolutely terrifying."
For all his sharp intellect, Tobirama had to admit the truth: no deception in the world was foolproof; you simply had to meet the one capable of fooling you. Even someone as shrewd as he could be "captivated" by a well-crafted idea. And the short stories collected in New Ninja were nothing if not persuasive. They brimmed with positive energy and clever arguments—dangerous tools of influence in an era not yet flooded by information.
As a lifelong researcher and innovator, Tobirama understood better than anyone the importance of education.
"If students at the Academy aren't trained from a young age to ask questions and explore, how will they develop the skills to create new jutsu?" he thought. "If they merely copy the old ways, the village will stagnate. The next generation must surpass the last, or Konoha will inevitably decline."
This was no small matter; it was Konoha's century-long future.
"Although New Ninja carries a subtle agenda, it has undeniable merit," Tobirama admitted under his breath. "The depth of this story's message is truly profound. Even I could learn from it. Perhaps Hashirama had a point after all. In some respects, Konoha should indeed study the advanced practices of Akatsuki Ninja Village."
With that, Tobirama reluctantly shelved his earlier idea of suppressing the book.
Yet admiration quickly curdled into irritation.
"Why didn't I think of such a policy first?" he snapped to the empty room. "Funding is always tight, yes, but if you squeeze the budget, you can find the ryo. We can't let the children suffer. Education is worth every coin."
Tobirama was known for frugality in village finances, but when it came to nurturing the next generation, he was willing to spend. That was the correct place for resources.
What grated on him was not the cost, but the fact that Uchiha Makoto had beaten him to the idea.
Rumors had already started around the village, whispers calling him a "plagiarism dog." If he adopted Makoto's policy now, wouldn't that only confirm the gossip?
"So annoying," he growled, rubbing his temples. "If I copy it outright, I'll look like a thief. But it's too good to ignore…"
He was still brooding when a messenger interrupted.
---
An Unexpected Visitor
"Tobirama-sama," the aide reported, "envoys from Akatsuki Ninja Village have arrived."
"Akatsuki Ninja Village?" Tobirama's tone hardened. "What do they want? Send them in."
Although Konoha and Akatsuki were nominally allies, Tobirama knew the relationship was purely superficial. In his heart he was waiting for an opportunity to quietly strike and bring Akatsuki down—especially after that upstart village had brazenly swallowed five billion ryo of Konoha's funds.
That money belonged to Konoha.
Moments later, the envoy was shown in and bowed.
"Tobirama-sama, Light Shadow-sama will soon wed Vortex Tsubaki of the Uzumaki Clan. Akatsuki Ninja Village has therefore formed an official blood alliance with the Uzumaki. Light Shadow-sama asked me to convey the news to Konoha."
Tobirama blinked. "…What?"
Surely he'd misheard.
The Uzumaki Clan had always been Konoha's closest friends. They didn't need formal treaties—the two villages trusted each other so completely that, in Tobirama's own wry thought, "their relationship was so close they could practically share a single umbrella."
And now a third party appeared?
Couldn't Konoha—with Hashirama himself as a protective pillar—be enough for the Uzumaki?
Why would they ally elsewhere?
It felt like betrayal.
A strange ache settled in Tobirama's chest. For a fleeting moment he even understood how his sister-in-law, Uzumaki Mito, might feel whenever Uchiha troublemakers caused discord. "Damn Uchiha," he muttered silently.
Out loud he said only, "I understand. Konoha will send representatives."
His voice, tight with suppressed anger, sounded almost like that of an exasperated husband forced to smile through humiliation.
---
Choosing a Delegate
"The Uzumaki can ally with anyone they wish—that is their freedom," Tobirama reasoned grimly. Even as blood allies, Konoha had no right to forbid the marriage. They could only maintain dignity and attend the wedding with polite smiles. To refuse would make Konoha appear petty and unreasonable, inviting outside criticism.
But Tobirama himself had no desire to go.
The mere thought of Uchiha Makoto's smug grin made his fingers itch to unleash a Flying Thunder God Slash on the spot.
Hashirama, ever cheerful and oblivious, might have happily attended. Unfortunately, he was away on several S-rank missions and couldn't be recalled.
That left Tobirama with a problem: the envoy demanded a high-ranking guest. Sending a minor official would be an insult.
After a moment's consideration, he reached a neat solution: Uzumaki Mito. As the Hokage's wife and an Uzumaki herself, she had the perfect status to represent both Konoha and her clan. Her presence would honor Makoto while also giving her a chance to quietly question the Uzumaki elders about their unexpected alliance.
Satisfied, Tobirama made the decision and dismissed the envoy.
But as soon as the visitor departed, his eyes drifted back to the copy of New Ninja on the table. His mood soured again.
"That scoundrel Uchiha Makoto," he hissed. "To think he created such a beneficial policy for Konoha itself…"
He exhaled sharply and came to a grim conclusion.
"Plagiarism dog, then plagiarism dog it is. For Konoha's sake, I'll copy it—but with a tweak. Change the subsidy from 1,790 ryo to 790 ryo. Our coffers can't handle the full amount anyway."
Decision made, Tobirama allowed himself a thin smile. The village would benefit, even if his pride took the hit.
---
Profits of Salt
Two weeks later, far from Konoha, Uchiha Makoto sat in the Light Shadow's office, drumming his fingers on his desk while waiting for a reply from the Lord of the Fire Country. Over recent weeks the daimyo had written to him almost daily about consolidating a salt monopoly.
The lord's letters insisted that everything was "progressing smoothly," but Makoto sensed the heavy pressure behind the careful words. The great nobles of the Fire Country were not only greedy but reckless, blind to the danger of crossing him. Time and again Makoto politely offered assistance in "resolving difficulties," but the daimyo always refused. He preferred to spend time trading favors among his own nobility rather than allow Akatsuki Ninja Village to intervene. Internal squabbles were one thing; once shinobi became involved, the conflict would escalate beyond control.
Makoto respected the man's determination. Though the blame for unrest rested on the daimyo's shoulders, he struggled tirelessly to keep things contained, using the mere threat of Akatsuki intervention as leverage while keeping the shinobi out of direct action.
At last, a fresh letter arrived. Makoto slit the seal, eyes scanning every line. A grin spread across his face, followed by a deep, unmistakable Uchiha laugh.
"Hahaha! It's done!"
Thanks to relentless negotiations—and a few mysterious disappearances engineered by Akatsuki operatives—the Fire Country's salt market was once again a tightly controlled monopoly. Where chaos had reigned, order and profit now flowed.
Akatsuki Ninja Village would receive a full thirty-five percent of the dividends.
The monthly profit alone would exceed four billion ryo.
Every single month.
It was like owning a money-printing press.
No amount of mission work, even if every ninja worked themselves to exhaustion, could match such income.
"No wonder ancient kingdoms treated salt as a state monopoly," Makoto mused aloud. "Private salt was punished by death, yet smuggling never stopped. It's almost like the drug trade. I've heard southern salt merchants were as wealthy as small nations, keeping entire harems of concubines just for entertainment…"
His laughter echoed through the office.
---
The Broader Vision
With the monopoly secured, both the daimyo and the noble families of the Fire Country found themselves richer than before. Those who once opposed the plan were now silent, even grateful. Salt was a necessity of daily life; its price could not remain low forever. In time it would certainly rise, and when it did, Akatsuki's profits would soar.
Still, Makoto felt a responsibility to temper greed. "We can't let the common people starve for salt," he thought. "Raise the price, yes, but gradually."
Now that a continuous river of ryo flowed into Akatsuki's treasury, the village could freely invest the ninety billion ryo it had carefully saved. The short stories of New Ninja had not been written in vain: properly executed, their principles could strengthen a ninja village and raise the overall quality of its shinobi.
The key challenge had always been finances.
"When the granaries are full, the people know propriety; when their needs are met, they value honor," Makoto reflected. "Spread wealth. Attract investment. Create jobs. Grow the GDP. Improve living standards. Make Akatsuki the brightest moon in the entire ninja world."
Akatsuki was barely a year old, while Konoha had been founded longer ago. By Konoha's calendar, this was only Year Two—but Akatsuki's future gleamed with limitless potential.
Makoto reviewed the rest of the daimyo's letter and smiled again. The second half concerned his upcoming marriage to Vortex Tsubaki. The Lord of Fire Country gladly accepted the invitation and planned to witness the ceremony in person.
Still, Makoto could sense a touch of regret between the elegant lines. The daimyo had once considered offering his own daughter as a match; by hesitating only a few months, he had missed the chance. The traditions of the ninja world favored alliances between great houses, and Makoto—descended from the powerful Uchiha—would have been a perfect choice. But the Uzumaki had claimed the honor first.
What was done was done.
The daimyo could only accept reality.
---
Tobirama, far away in Konoha, remained unaware of these final developments. He only knew that the Uzumaki alliance and the success of New Ninja gnawed at his pride. And so, while the world celebrated new unions and profits, Senju Tobirama quietly sharpened his resolve, prepared to copy an Uchiha's idea for the good of his village—whether or not anyone called him a plagiarism dog.
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