Hiruzen, who had been listening, felt the overwhelming urge to slap himself just a few seconds ago.
Why in the world did I let an ANBU deliver a report right in front of Tajima, of all people? he thought, forehead throbbing. If this were a mission, it would've been classified under "rookie-level mistakes" that even academy brats shouldn't commit. But now this was at the Hokage level. Lesson learned.
He cleared his throat in the most casual manner possible.
"Ahem… children these days, truly something, aren't they?" Hiruzen said, putting on his most fatherly smile, as if he hadn't just been caught red-handed. "If Hashirama-sama were here, I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see the youth so… spirited."
Yes, Sarutobi Hiruzen was indeed a man of extraordinarily thick skin.
This was the same man who, in his younger and—ahem—dumber days, had once peeked at women bathing. And when caught red-handed? He simply folded his arms, stroked his beard, and acted like he was conducting an important sociological study.
If there were a prize for "pretending nothing happened," Hiruzen would've been a gold medalist. So naturally, he tried the same tactic now: deny, deflect, and smile like nothing was wrong.
Would Tajima buy it? Of course not. Uchiha Tajima wasn't the kind of man who swallowed excuses wrapped in flowery words.
"Hokage-sama," he said, voice like cold steel. "I came here with sincerity, with the intention of discussing how the Uchiha can contribute further to Konoha's prosperity. Yet what I see here today…" He let his words hang heavy in the air. "…is disheartening."
Now, if this had been another clan—say, the Hyuga—they would've smiled politely, sipped tea, and sent a vague complaint written in flowery calligraphy later.
Even the Nara would've grumbled lazily but kept it subtle. Not the Uchiha. Subtlety was simply not their strong suit. They spoke like their fire jutsu—loud, direct, and capable of burning down the room if you weren't careful.
Hiruzen's smile didn't falter, but inwardly his mind was spinning like a windmill in a storm.
Contribute further? He instantly recalled every single nightmare since becoming Hokage—like an Uchiha wanting to become Hokage or his "secret" with Danzo being discovered.
Anyway, he remembered what his teacher once told him: it's not the arrogant Uchiha who are dangerous, but the Uchiha who want to contribute—those with big dreams like "peace." They were truly dangerous because, well, you never knew what they'd twist "contribution" or "peace" into. God knows if killing everyone and ruling over an empty land counted as "peace" to them.
In short, he was on guard against anything Tajima might say.
But outwardly, the Hokage remained unflappable. That was his art. That was his weapon.
"Tajima-sama," he said smoothly, and shamelessly. "My teacher always spoke of the Uchiha as one of the pillars of this village. Your contributions have always been invaluable. So forgive me if I sound curious, but—what kind of contribution, exactly, are you referring to?"
To Tajima, however, those words sounded like nails on a chalkboard.
My teacher meant Tobirama. And to imply that the Uchiha still needed Tobirama's approval? That was almost an insult. Did the Hokage really think the Uchiha should feel honored that the very man who distrusted them acknowledged their usefulness?
No matter how rational and intelligent he was among the Uchiha, his grudge remained. Tajima's jaw tightened. For a split second, he genuinely considered standing up and storming out.
Worse—he considered planting a fist in Hiruzen's smug face. But he reined himself in. Calm down, Tajima. Remember why you came. This isn't about your pride. It's about the clan. It's about the village. And most of all—it's about Azula's plan.
Yes, that was it.
That was why he was here in the first place. Azula had laid out ideas and strategies so simple yet brilliant that they made him want to slap himself for not thinking of them sooner.
He'd always known she was a genius—her skill in battle and ninjutsu spoke for themselves—but her administrative insights were on another level entirely.
In fact, in terms of strategy and governance, she might even surpass Izuna Uchiha, the very legend who once stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Madara.
And Tajima, the hardened clan head, had to admit something humbling to himself: yet again, he had underestimated his daughter.
The Uchiha had been Konoha's official police force for years now, ever since Tobirama thought it was a "brilliant" idea.
At first, Tajima had accepted it, but over time he discovered the drawbacks. He had even tried to hand the responsibility back.
The first time, Tobirama flat-out refused. The second time, his own clansmen rejected the notion. From that moment, he knew this was their fate, etched in stone.
The Uchiha were warriors, proud and intense. Their very presence made civilians uneasy.
Even when smiling, even when being polite, they gave off an aura that whispered we're better than you. That was fine on the battlefield. But in administration? In keeping peace among civilians? It was oil and water.
Whenever they caught a criminal, they didn't play games. No polite warnings, no second chances—just full contempt and harsh judgment. Civilians were offended. The Uchiha called it "authority." And that right there—Tajima knew—was the test.
Because no other clan had such political power in Konoha. No other clan could imprison their own villagers. If the Uchiha could win the village's trust despite this, they'd rise so high that even the Hokage would need their approval. But if they failed? If they clung to arrogance and pride? Then one day, they would be sidelined. Permanently.
Could the Uchiha change? Could the Akimichi suddenly hate food? Could a Nara become an enthusiastic morning person? Could a Hyuga spontaneously develop a sense of humor about their foreheads? Preposterous!
Their traits were as fundamental as chakra natures. The Uchiha's pride wasn't vanity; it was bone-deep, forged in fire and loss, a shield and a banner. Asking them to abandon it was like asking a volcano to politely stop being lava.
Not even fifty years would be enough for them to abandon it—not unless there were fifty years of complete peace: no wars, no battles, no elders whispering, "Remember, grandson, you're superior to everyone else. You are from the Uchiha. You can beat everyone as long as you awaken the Sharingan."
But was that possible? Tajima knew the answer: about as likely as Madara rising from the grave just to apologize politely and offer to pay for the damages he caused.
Still, he had to admit, his daughter had given him a sparkling new idea—one so bold it made him grin behind his stoic mask.
If it worked, the Uchiha wouldn't just keep their iron grip on the police force—they'd look like the shining guardians of justice, polishing their image until the entire village thought of them less as arrogant, fire-breathing aristocrats and more as responsible model citizens.
Side effect: their clan's unbearable arrogance might finally be shaved down a notch.
But before dreaming too far, there was the Hokage problem.
The current Hokage had to willingly accept that the Uchiha controlled the police force. Otherwise, all Tajima's scheming would be nothing more than weaving a wedding dress just so some other bride could wear it. And Tajima wasn't in the mood to play village tailor.
So, he leaned into the advantage he had built earlier by pretending to be angry and continued his act.
"To be honest," he said gravely, "the Uchiha clan is facing severe difficulties in handling the police force. I even discussed this with Tobirama-sama once. I told him the clan wasn't suited for this position. But, alas, the war erupted, and well… here we are. But truthfully, Hokage-sama, I still think the same."
Lie. Absolute lie. That single word hammered into Hiruzen's brain like a bell. He knew Tajima had indeed spoken with Tobirama, but he also knew his sensei's categorical response: rejection, sharp and unyielding as ever.
Hiruzen remembered the conversation clearly, back when curiosity got the better of him and he asked why. Tobirama's answer had been infuriatingly simple:
"This is my test for the Uchiha. If they pass, it means they've integrated into the village, shed their arrogance, and learned to see every civilian as one of their own. And if they pass, they will never, under any circumstances, become a threat to Konoha. For they will not attack those they've accepted as family."
At the time, young Hiruzen thought that sounded noble. Now, sitting in the Hokage chair with a migraine forming, he realized Tobirama had basically cursed him with a clan-sized headache.
The Uchiha looked down on everyone like hawks glaring at pigeons, and treated the villagers as nothing more than fragile lambs they deigned to protect.
He scratched his head awkwardly, like a child caught sneaking dango before dinner. "Well, Tajima-sama, you know the war has just ended. The village is short on manpower. Decisions like this aren't mine to make casually. And after all, the police force has been in Uchiha hands since the village was founded."
Tajima stared at him calmly, but his disappointment was clear.
He had hoped—just a little—that Hiruzen might be different from Tobirama. That maybe, just maybe, the young Hokage would see the Uchiha from a neutral perspective. But no. As expected, neutrality was about as rare as an Uchiha admitting they were wrong.
And really, Tajima thought, what excuse was this? Yes, the Second Hokage had died. Yes, a few others had fallen.
But Konoha still had the strength to face all four Great Hidden Villages at once. If they could do that, surely they could handle a measly police department of five hundred.
His guilt shrank even further when he remembered the different schemes Azula had whispered into his ear. If Hiruzen wanted to play games, well, Tajima had his own pieces to move.
"Hokage-sama, I sincerely hope you will consider our difficulties. I truly wish for the Uchiha to contribute in other ways—leading ANBU teams, patrolling the borders, fighting invaders. Our clan is eager to contribute."
Which, of course, made Hiruzen even more convinced the Uchiha must not be allowed to leave the police force. Not until they passed Tobirama's test. If they left now, their arrogance would grow unchecked and their loyalty would remain unproven.
"Tajima-sama, how about this? Give me more time to discuss it with the council. In the meantime, perhaps you can think of other solutions. But remember, the police force has belonged to the Uchiha since the founding. That cannot be taken lightly."
In other words: delay, delay, delay. Hiruzen knew his strategy well—by the time the Uchiha asked again, he'd have a new excuse ready. After all, he was Hokage.
It wasn't as though they could force his hand. And as the years rolled on, his own strength would only increase, while the Uchiha would stay trapped in their cage.
Tajima, however, was secretly thrilled. This was the exact outcome he wanted. He could stop pretending.
"Well then, Hokage-sama, I trust you will give us an answer soon," he said, smiling thinly. And before Hiruzen could relax, Tajima struck while the iron was hot. "Speaking of which, my daughter has proposed something rather… novel."
Hiruzen raised an eyebrow. Novel proposals from Uchiha daughters usually meant trouble—especially if it was Azula.
"She calls it a tribunal," Tajima explained, pulling out a scroll with a flourish. "It involves things like judges, lawyers, witnesses—strange new terms I'd never heard before."
"And of course, she insists on being something called the 'President Judge.' It sounds complicated and terribly troublesome… but my daughter insists. So I hope, Hokage-sama, you will allow us to try it."
(END OF THE CHAPTER)
I really want to continue this chapter but it's a bit late her. Speaking of Naruto, in the anime, it was said that the Uzumaki were a clan who by themselves have their own country.
So strong that it took the five village together to defeat them because they are too strong to be alone to Sasuke by Hozuki, so at least, I think they should be stronger than the Uchiha and Senju unless it came to special circumstances like Mangekyou, right?
Also it said explicitly the five village, so there must be Konoha's hand, and don't forget to vote please.