In the alley, Makoto's expression grew even more serious, his voice lowered as if coated with ice chips.
"Before the Kyubi Rampage, the Yondaime Hokage, Namikaze Minato, not only held (tolerance for our Uchiha Clan in his heart, but also acted upon it!"
"That's why the clan and the village could coexist peacefully, without incident."
"If, on the night of the Kyubi Rampage, it had been the Sandaime Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, who died..." Makoto paused, his black eyes startlingly bright in the shadows.
"I guarantee, there would be absolutely no rift between the Uchiha and the village now, let alone conflict."
The wind from deep in the alley swept in, carrying a chill, making the lantern in the corner sway clatteringly. The orange lantern light flickered on their three faces, like a silent shadow play.
Under the light, Makoto's profile was sharp, his pupils full of liveliness.
Snow settled on Makoto's hair, accumulating a thin white layer, but he paid it no mind, just stared seriously at Itachi and Shisui.
The light in his black eyes was brighter than the lantern, as if waiting for a confirming response.
Makoto wasn't currently speaking ill of the Sandaime Hokage, but rather praising the Yondaime Hokage's goodness. This prevented the two from instinctively doubting or denying, instead making them think.
Itachi's brows were furrowed enough to trap mosquitoes. His usual composure was gone. His knuckles unconsciously pinched his sleeve cuffs, his fingertips rubbing the fabric until it frayed, clearly racking his brains.
Beside him, Shisui had a sudden realization. The white breath he exhaled condensed into small puffs in the cold air. He suddenly spoke:
"Makoto, I understand what you mean… you want someone from our Uchiha Clan to step forward and run for Hokage, to change this situation?"
Hearing this, Makoto stared at Shisui for a good while, his expression a bit strange.
'Seriously, bro?'
'Don't you have any clue whether an Uchiha can become Hokage right now?'
Makoto shook his head, his tone resolute and decisive: "Don't entertain illusions. Given the village's current view of the Uchiha Clan, before reaching a level of strength where the clan can overpower the entire village, running for Hokage is a pipe dream. There's simply no possibility."
Hearing this, Shisui wasn't the slightest bit angered by the rebuttal. Instead, he leaned half a step forward, his feet crunching crunchily on the snow, his tone urgent:
"Makoto, then what exactly do you mean? Just say it directly."
The lantern light fell precisely on Shisui's face, revealing his tightly pressed lips and the urgency in his eyes.
Itachi also watched Makoto intently, his black pupils filled with anticipation. He even lightened his breath, afraid to miss a single word.
"Alas…" Makoto deliberately drew out the sound and heaved a heavy sigh. He put a small hand to his forehead, adopting a pained, heartbroken expression.
"At my age, I should be eating, drinking, and having fun all day, playing with older sisters! Yet here I am, worrying myself sick for you!"
Makoto sighed superficially, but the emotion in his heart was completely different, he was overjoyed. After laying the groundwork for so long, he was finally about to reveal his true purpose.
He put his hand down, his expression tightening again.
"Our Uchiha Clan's current strength, prestige, and the village's hearts of the people cannot support us sitting in the Hokage's seat!"
"But we can support someone from behind, someone like the Yondaime Hokage, Namikaze Minato, who is genuinely friendly towards our Uchiha Clan from the bottom of his heart, and help him reach that position, become the Godaime Hokage!"
"Then the conflict between the village and the clan will naturally resolve itself. It won't lead to civil war in Konoha, won't require any bloodshed, and will instead make Konoha even stronger!!"
This sounded simple and easy, but putting it into practice was as difficult as scaling the heavens. However, that had nothing to do with him, Uchiha Makoto. He said all this just to set the stage for his next goal.
Konoha currently had the Four Heavenly Kings of Civil War: Sarutobi Hiruzen, Shimura Danzo, Mitokado Homura, and Utatane Koharu.
These four were old and shady, holding power over all aspects of Konoha.
The new generation's tender sprouts had all burned out, becoming nutrients for these old folks. There was no suitable candidate to take over as Hokage.
Considering all aspects, Orochimaru was actually an excellent candidate right now. But he had too many, too big of issues, and too many people knew about them. Becoming Hokage was simply unrealistic.
But it didn't matter. Makoto's mind was currently full of making money to spend. After all, as long as you're strong enough, even if you sit on the Hokage's head all day, the Hokage will praise your stable stance.
After hearing these words, Itachi and Shisui's eyes simultaneously lit up, like two oil lamps suddenly ignited, jumping with light in the dimness.
This method... seems like it could actually work! Resolving the conflict between the village and the clan without civil war!
Shisui, even more excited, stepped forward. He didn't even notice the snow water splashing on his trousers, nearly pushing Makoto into the corner. His voice carried incomparable excitement:
"Then who should we support to become the Godaime Hokage?"
Seeing both Shisui and Itachi holding their breath, looking at him with full of expectation, Makoto coughed, cleared his throat, deliberately keeping them in suspense for a while.
Then he slowly spoke, each word falling like a hammer on the frozen, hardened ground, carrying heavy weight.
"Since I was two and a half, I've been poring over all the clan's records about the village. I've spent countless days and nights, finally sifting out the most suitable candidate from a pile of names!"
"It's the only one of the Legendary Sannin still in the village, Orochimaru!"
As the name fell, the cold wind seemed to have its throat cut, abruptly stopping mid-air.
The alley was so quiet you could hear the rustle of snow grains on the lantern paper. A melting water droplet from an icicle under the eaves fell with a drip, creating a small pit in the snow.
Makoto stepped forward half a step, his black eyes startlingly bright in the dimness, and continued: "He is the Nidaime Hokage's disciple's disciple, the Sandaime Hokage's personal student, the Yondaime Hokage's martial uncle."
"In terms of background, he's from the right roots and straight shoots. A single drop of his sweat is redder than all our blood combined."
"His reputation as one of the Sannin resounds throughout the Shinobi World. His strength is top-tier, his qualifications even more solid. Most importantly, like the Yondaime, he comes from a common background and doesn't have all those twisted prejudices against our Uchiha Clan!"
Makoto spoke resolutely and decisively. The determination in his black eyes almost overflowed, exactly like someone who had 'worried himself sick for the clan'.
Although he knew perfectly well this was impossible, not a single crack showed in his expression. He was a true veteran actor.
Hearing Orochimaru's name, Shisui's eyebrow jerked sharply. His knuckles subconsciously curled, his fingertips digging shallow marks into his palm, clearly startled by this answer.
"Orochimaru-sama... he is indeed very powerful, but he seems to be..."
As one of Konoha's current 'titled' strong individuals, Shisui knew some of Konoha's secrets.
Before he could finish, Makoto sharply interrupted, his voice suddenly rising, echoing in the alley.
"Silence!"
"Not a single word that is detrimental to Konoha's unity!"
The lantern shook violently from the force. The orange light swept back and forth across Shisui's face, illuminating his instantly stiffened expression.
Shisui's hand, which had been stroking his chin, paused mid-air. His fingertips rubbed against his smooth skin, making a faint sound. Struggle flashed in his eyes.
Makoto's words were too absolute. But he had heard quite a few rumors about Orochimaru.
"Don't mention 'seems' or other speculations." Makoto softened his tone, but it carried an unquestionable certainty.
"If Orochimaru truly had problems, the Sandaime Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, would have already dealt with him."
"Since there's no movement, it proves Orochimaru is clean, whiter than the snow in this snowfield."
Shisui looked at the snow covered in black footprints, opened his mouth, originally wanting to say a few more words. But upon hearing the two words 'Sandaime Hokage', it was like he hit a pause button.
He subconsciously nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing: "That is true."
Shisui was a descendant of Uchiha Kagami. Kagami was an Uchiha recognized by the Nidaime Hokage, Senju Tobirama. One can imagine his stance.
Respect for Konoha's higher-ups was carved into his bones, especially for Sandaime Hokage.
Itachi, standing to the side, hadn't spoken the entire time. His brows were knitted into a tight knot, his mind churning with thought. His pupils were somewhat red, as if his Sharingan was about to activate.
He was more perceptive than Shisui and had had contact with Orochimaru before. He had long sensed the occasional gloominess Orochimaru exuded. But Makoto's words were like a big stick, precisely poking at the thing he cared about most.
Peace between the village and the clan.
The snow fell heavier, landing on the three's shoulders, instantly turning into water stains, leaving faint marks on their clothes.
Makoto, looking at their expressions, knew the timing was about right. He stepped forward again, the soles of his feet crunching crunchily over ice shards, like sounding an alarm bell: "Hesitation means defeat!"
"Of course it's difficult, but it's better than sitting around waiting for death. First, go sound out Orochimaru, test the waters. Even if it fails, there's no loss."
Here, Makoto paused, his voice suddenly rising again, carrying a do-or-die energy, his black eyes seeming to burn with fire.
"As long as everything goes according to plan, when Orochimaru becomes the Godaime Hokage, it will be the time for Konoha and the Uchiha to become strong again!"
'Regardless of success or failure, first 'incidentally' borrow some money from him to spend…' He kept this last part in his heart, but his face was straighter than anyone else's. He raised his hand and hammered his chest, making thumping sounds, as if taking an oath.
"Everything we do is for the Will of Fire!"
"Trying might lead to success, but not trying definitely won't!"
"Reforging the Uchiha Clan's glory, we would die ten thousand deaths without refusing!"
The moment his words fell, the wind and snow at the alley's entrance seemed to be split open. A ray of sunlight slanted in, precisely landing on Makoto.
His black hair was plated with a golden edge. The light in his black eyes was fiercer than the sunlight, making Itachi and Shisui subconsciously squint.