Once Hashirama Senju, the Hokage, spoke, the attitudes of the assembled clans immediately shifted by a full one hundred and eighty degrees.
One after another, they echoed his stance.
After all, they would be living and working in Konoha from now on. Offending the village's number one and number two figures at a time like this would bring nothing but trouble later.
How could Tobirama-sama possibly be a plagiarist?
A coincidence—pure coincidence!
Hearing the chorus of identical responses, Tobirama Senju's expression finally eased. He subtly glanced sideways at Madara Uchiha, a strange sense of satisfaction rising in his heart.
Born-evil Madara Uchiha!
Do you see now?
This is the influence my brother and I have within the village.
Even if I had plagiarized—
No, wrong. I did not plagiarize.
The people trust me and my brother, not you.
"Hmph."
Madara snorted coldly.
He had nothing but disdain for these hypocritical clans.
Konoha had been turned into a mess by Tobirama Senju. The man had clearly copied Makoto Uchiha's ideas, yet still refused to admit it!
And Hashirama—
The truth was obvious, yet he still chose to cover for Tobirama instead of believing him.
At that moment, Madara felt it clearly.
There was now a gap between himself and Hashirama.
Not a rift yet—but the cracks had begun to form.
Madara glanced once more at the insincere clan leaders, then coldly at Tobirama. His irritation grew stronger by the second.
Without another word, he abandoned the meeting altogether and walked out of the conference room alone.
"Madara—"
Hashirama felt a jolt of panic. He knew Madara was angry.
He wanted nothing more than to chase after him and explain.
But this meeting was critical.
As Hokage, he couldn't just leave.
With reluctance, Hashirama sat back down and urged Tobirama to continue the meeting.
"I understand."
Tobirama was in a terrible mood himself.
After locking himself away for days, painstakingly devising Konoha's future strategy—
Only to discover it was almost identical to what that born-evil Makoto Uchiha had already implemented—
He had somehow become a plagiarist without meaning to.
The frustration was unbearable.
Tobirama rushed through the execution outline without soliciting any opinions and abruptly ended the meeting. He decided to reconvene in a day or two.
What happened today had completely derailed his plans.
After the meeting ended, the clan heads departed one by one.
Hashirama followed behind Tobirama, hesitating before finally speaking.
"Tobirama… you really didn't plagiarize?"
"How about we go apologize to Madara together in private? Even if you did copy him a bit, we'll keep it secret for you."
"Madara is really angry this time…"
Tobirama: "..."
Brother.
Give me back the gratitude I felt just now.
Madara gets angry, and I'm supposed to go apologize to him?
Are you joking?!
I didn't plagiarize!
This was all just coincidence!
"Brother, I didn't plagiarize!"
"Please believe me!"
Tobirama spoke firmly, his voice resolute.
Clear conscience fears no accusation.
Hashirama shook his head helplessly.
Such a hard mouth…
"But—"
"That's enough, brother! I will never admit to something I didn't do!"
Hashirama sighed.
In the end, he left alone to explain things to Madara—again.
He had promised Mito they'd eat together today.
Looks like he'd be breaking that promise again.
…She'll understand.
She always does.
One Month Later
Akatsuki Village.
The sun blazed unusually bright today.
Makoto Uchiha arrived at the Ninja Academy with several high-ranking officials to conduct an inspection.
All new students had officially enrolled.
Unlike Konoha's academy, Akatsuki Village's Ninja Academy adopted fully closed, military-style management. Unauthorized personnel were strictly forbidden from approaching.
Every instructor had been personally selected by Makoto and hired with high salaries.
Moreover—
Students were granted only one day off per month.
The rest of the time was spent entirely on academics, ninjutsu, and taijutsu.
Ninjas were meant to suffer.
Train hard now—or die like fodder on the battlefield later.
"Wow… they're so young."
Makoto pointed at a group of children.
They wore uniforms he had personally designed—black with red cloud patterns.
Konoha's green flak jackets were honestly ugly.
Akatsuki Village's aesthetics had to stay ahead of the times.
Given the intensity of taijutsu training, he had prepared eight sets of seasonal uniforms per student—more than enough.
"Obedience is a ninja's duty!"
"Unwavering support for Light Shadow-sama!"
A group of students ran laps around the training field, shouting slogans in unison.
This was Makoto's rule.
The Will of Fire had to be reinforced at all times.
Not only civilian-born students—but clan heirs as well.
Some clan members had voiced mild objections, feeling this went a bit too far.
Makoto immediately convened a meeting and shut it down:
"Should ninjas not obey orders?"
"Should Akatsuki ninjas not support the Light Shadow?"
"What is your motive? What are you trying to express? What are you trying to undermine?"
A few heavy labels slapped on—
And dissent vanished instantly.
"Welcome, Light Shadow-sama, to your inspection!"
A whistle blew.
All students snapped into formation and shouted:
"Obedience is our duty!"
"Tell me," Makoto asked,
"What is the sole purpose of you becoming ninjas?"
"To obey Light Shadow-sama's orders!"
"Excellent!"
"That is the answer I wanted to hear most."
Makoto smiled in satisfaction.
These ninjas.
This academy.
It all put him completely at ease.
The accompanying officials were stunned.
Despite the blazing midday sun, they felt an inexplicable chill run down their backs.
"Dismissed!"
Makoto waved his hand.
It was lunchtime anyway.
The cafeteria had been preparing since morning.
Steaming rice, miso soup, thick cuts of meat, and a dessert sprinkled generously with white sugar were served.
The students sat upright in neat rows, eyes locked onto their meals.
Nearly eighty percent came from civilian families.
Only after entering the academy did they learn what rice was.
What it meant to eat until full.
Insects never treated people as human.
"All stand!"
"Begin eating!"
The students rose in unison and shouted:
"Light Shadow-sama, we stand ready to offer you our loyalty!"
Then they sat down and devoured their food.
"Not bad."
Makoto also ate lunch in the cafeteria.
Ensuring proper nutrition for reserve ninjas was essential.
If people couldn't eat well—
Why would they die for you?
That afternoon, back in his office, Makoto resumed work.
One formal letter immediately caught his attention.
"The Uzumaki Clan… huh?"
"They're sending an envoy?"
Makoto loved prying Konoha's walls loose.
For a brief moment, he even felt the urge to dye his hair blond.
…Damn it.
Wrong click again.
Ah well.
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