The cell was silent except for the slow drip of water somewhere deeper in the dungeon.
Senju Tobirama looked small for the first time in his life—white hair matted, wrists sealed, posture rigid with shame.
Hashirama closed his eyes for a moment, then exhaled.
"Tobirama… tell me everything. Why did you do this?"
His younger brother didn't lift his head. His voice came low, almost classical in tone, like a child reciting a confession he already regretted.
"Big Brother… everything I did was for Konoha. With Amamiya Raizen gone… the village lost its spine. If we leave the leadership empty, the clans will tear Konoha apart from the inside."
He paused, bitterness twisting at his lips.
"And you—being leader but not Hokage—is a flaw every clan sees. If we don't act now, something worse will happen later."
Hashirama's jaw tightened.
"Enough."
His voice cracked through the cell like a whip. Tobirama flinched.
"Big Brother—"
"Do you even understand what you've done?" Hashirama stepped forward, eyes burning. "Do you know what rumors your actions will unleash? How many ambitious clans will take this as a signal to fight for the Hokage seat?!"
Tobirama bit down on his frustration, but Hashirama didn't stop.
"Raizen built this village with his blood. And the moment he disappears… you tell others to support me as Hokage? You paint a target on my back."
The words came heavy, trembling with heartbreak.
"You've shaken the village we swore to protect."
Hashirama had always been gentle, always forgiven—but now his anger filled the cell like a wildfire.
Tobirama finally snapped back.
"Even if I didn't act, Big Brother, they would still do it! If Raizen doesn't return, the clans will fight over the Hokage seat with or without me."
Hashirama froze.
"And you will still be dragged into it," Tobirama pressed. "Whether you like it or not, you're already the leader. You'll be forced to choose sides. Better to prepare now than wait until it's too late."
The truth stung worse than accusation.
Hashirama's clenched fist trembled. He knew it—every word.
Without Raizen, this era would eat Konoha alive.
He had watched the village from his office these past weeks: the whispered alliances, the subtle fear, the deep-rooted tension of clans who suddenly remembered they once ruled alone.
He hated it.
He hated politics.
He hated suspicion.
He hated the feeling of being blind in his own village.
"Hashirama-sama…"
The guard at his side said nothing, but Hashirama could feel eyes watching him—waiting to see what he would decide.
He breathed out slowly.
Leadership was supposed to be simple.
Build a village. Protect the weak. Bring peace.
But every day felt like walking through a dark forest with no torch.
Clans feuded quietly. Merchants demanded protection. Shinobi wanted more autonomy. Civilians wanted more stability. The balance was fragile enough to snap at a touch.
He wasn't afraid of enemies.
He was afraid of failing the village he loved.
Hashirama looked at Tobirama again. His brother's eyes softened, guilt giving way to stubborn clarity.
"Big Brother… you're the leader, but you have no control over Anbu," Tobirama said quietly. "And without information, you're surrounded by shadows."
Hashirama's brow furrowed.
Tobirama inhaled deeply.
"So I created… a unit. Secretly."
Hashirama's eyes widened.
"You what?!"
Tobirama met his gaze with calm resolve.
"A force modeled after the Anbu. Small, but efficient. Loyal only to you. If you have eyes and ears throughout Konoha, you can keep the clans in check. You can keep order."
The air went still.
Hashirama wanted to be angry—he really did.
But he also knew this mess happened because he didn't know who was moving in the dark.
He needed intelligence.
He needed a network.
He needed something to stabilize Konoha that wasn't brute strength.
A long silence stretched between the brothers.
Finally, Hashirama spoke softly.
"…Tobirama."
His voice was neither angry nor gentle. Just tired.
"This entire disaster began with your actions. You will reflect here."
Tobirama bowed his head without protest.
"But," Hashirama continued, "I will not ignore what you've built."
Tobirama's eyes flickered, barely perceptible but full of relief.
Hashirama turned away, cloak rustling as he prepared to leave.
If he truly intended to keep Konoha stable, he would need control—real control.
Not symbolism.
Not hope.
Not wishful thinking.
The village was changing.
And he would have to change with it.