The two flattered each other back and forth.
Uchiha Makoto felt he'd achieved his goal; with Uzumaki Mito's endorsement, his little inspirational pieces could run rampant through Konoha.
Whether the "chicken soup" he'd poured into Mito might trigger a family crisis for Senju Hashirama was not Makoto's concern.
Perhaps—
For Uzumaki Mito,
It might even be a good thing.
In a few short years,
Hashirama and Uchiha Madara would fall out over a "mysterious force" within Konoha; Madara would defect, step on the Nine-Tails, and, as a tragic avenger, launch himself against the village.
In the end, one would be killed and the other "die for love," and not only would Konoha suffer for their deeds, Uzumaki Mito would be a victim too.
At the prime of her life Mito would become a widow—what a regret.
Given her and Hashirama's status, she would be bound to widowhood for life and could not remarry—besides, having seen the summit of the ninja world, she would likely look down on any man but Hashirama.
In any case,
Her latter years would be spent in loneliness and solitude.
But now it was different.
Mito had found a new direction. With her ability, she fit the script of a great female lead; once she threw herself into a career, loneliness would no longer touch her—busy people have no time for inner attrition.
Uzumaki Mito was happy now.
She felt strength fill her body. She would fight for kunoichi in Konoha still oppressed and shackled by family, and she would realize her own value. She no longer wanted those muddled days.
She would live for herself.
"Lady Mito, these are a few short pieces I plan to print in the next issue of New Shinobi. Please look them over. If anything is off, correct me freely."
Makoto finally bared the dagger, taking from a drawer the essays he had long prepared to seed through Konoha after his wedding.
They revolved around "women's independence" and "women's awakening."
Mito took them and read carefully. The little stories and their meaning were truly lingering in aftertaste.
A fine essay reads like good wine.
"Kunoichi…"
The simple, plain words pierced Mito's heart. The common view said male shinobi were stronger than female, but that was biased.
Shinobi methods are diverse; tactics and jutsu are unpredictable. Secret arts, kekkei genkai, powerful Sage techniques—endless. And shinobi are glass cannons by nature—no matter how strong, even a powerhouse can't withstand the combo of Hidan and Black Zetsu.
So—
Setting aside the freaks, Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama,
Before the era of giant war machines,
Individual strength was only one part of the whole. Well-trained kunoichi on the battlefield were not much inferior to men.
Ninja wars are more about intelligence and equipment. Uchiha Izuna with Mangekyo Sharingan was ambushed and felled by Tobirama, master of forbidden arts, with Flying Thunder God.
And the wheel of fate turned.
Tobirama, too, fell to the brothers Kinkaku and Ginkaku.
"Kunoichi are not inferior to men!"
Mito's expression burned; she murmured to herself. She could hardly wait to return to Konoha to speak for kunoichi—breaking tradition, reclaiming their shinobi path, and realizing their worth.
"Lady Mito, how do you find these essays?"
Makoto waited a beat. The look on her face already told him it was in the bag, but he still asked perfunctorily.
"Good!"
"They're excellent!"
"Konoha's windmill needs a fresh wind to turn. Once they're printed, I'll buy hundreds of copies of New Shinobi and hand them out free to the kunoichi."
"No—better to have Tobirama sign off. For something this meaningful, we should set up a special fund to buy New Shinobi in bulk—and use it to signal the village's stance to ordinary kunoichi."
At first Mito meant to spend her own money to buy New Shinobi for free distribution, but she immediately felt that was too conservative—she could have Tobirama allocate funds to underwrite it.
It wasn't that she couldn't afford it; she believed official funding would more clearly convey the leadership's attitude.
Do not fear traditional shackles!
Konoha supports you, kunoichi!
Hearing her firm answer,
Makoto's lips curled into a pure smile; he even hummed softly. New Shinobi needed more supporters in Konoha. By the time Tobirama realized what was happening and tried to clamp down, internal opposition would have formed.
These underhanded moves weren't pretty, but they would give Tobirama a headache and indirectly weaken Konoha. Makoto would love to defeat Konoha in the open—
But Konoha's health bar was absurdly thick. In the first three great ninja wars it was one-against-four, at worst one-against-two. Even with Hiruzen Sarutobi and Shimura Danzō—plus two other F4 leeches—constantly draining it, talent kept blooming. Despite many self-inflicted losses of genius, Konoha endured for decades until Uzumaki Naruto rose.
Now he faced peak Konoha—and Tobirama, that naturally malicious old ghost. Without tripping them in the shadows, the difficulty was simply too high.
"However… it does buck tradition. Lady Mito, will Tobirama really approve your proposal?"
"And Lord Hashirama—he'll be a problem too."
Makoto pressed further,
Dropping a little "eye medicine" between them, face earnest.
"Hashirama… he won't oppose it."
"Tobirama—I'll convince him."
Mito thought of Hashirama—that scoundrel who now thought only of Madara, skipped the office daily, and left village affairs to Tobirama.
She only had to win Tobirama over.
As for Tobirama,
She had her ways.
He knew her situation, knew how coldly his big brother treated her.
At worst, she'd lay bare her sorrow.
So thinking,
Uzumaki Mito saw a bright future for Konoha's kunoichi.
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