The First Great Ninja War had ended.
In the Land of Fire, the news spread like wind: the front-line forces were returning. Konoha's streets swelled with crowds—vendors shouting, children racing between adults' legs, shinobi returning home with tired smiles.
The villagers weren't astonished by victory.
They were irritated the war had dragged on so long.
After all, weren't they the citizens of the strongest village in the shinobi world? Shouldn't Kumogakure have been crushed in a swift stroke rather than years of attrition?
Most people still didn't know Second Hokage Tobirama Senju had fallen. They gossiped under the shadow of the Hokage Monument—reverence for Hashirama, respect for Tobirama, and speculation about the next Hokage.
"Maybe a Senju elder."
"Or someone from Hyūga."
"Can't be an Uchiha—they all look down their noses at people."
Then the crowd shifted, as if moved by the will of the village itself.
A long procession of clans assembled in formation.
Aburame, Inuzuka, Sarutobi, Shimura, Kurama.
Behind them, the Hyūga and the Ino–Shika–Chō trio.
At the front, leading all of Konoha, marched the Senju clan, with Mito Uzumaki at their head.
Over a hundred jōnin, armored in green-trimmed flak jackets embroidered with the Uzumaki crest. Their steps were disciplined, their presence heavy with lineage and responsibility.
Two figures at the very front stood out:
Mito Uzumaki, wrapped in a pristine white kimono, her red hair coiled into buns, the faint glow of the Yin Seal marking her brow.
Hyūga Ashika, the stern, stone-faced patriarch of the Hyūga main family.
Mito spoke first, her voice steady as a drawn blade.
"Ashika-dono. You know what happened at the front. What is the Hyūga's stance?"
The old Hyūga didn't blink. He disliked showmanship, but Mito was a jinchūriki and a master of seals—she had earned her authority.
"The Hyūga will follow the village's orders."
Mito noted the tone: neutral, but immovable. The Hyūga wouldn't back the Uchiha… but neither would they recklessly provoke them.
Then the Hyūga patriarch whispered:
"They're coming."
Mito turned.
From the side streets, like a black tide of swaying armor, the Uchiha clan arrived.
Hundreds of Uchiha jōnin marched together—black cloaks, red lamellar armor, and the fan crest blazing proudly on their backs. Red eyes glimmered faintly in the afternoon light; their combined chakra pressed upon the air like invisible thunder.
Whispers rippled across the crowds:
"The Uchiha…"
"So dangerous."
"Look at their eyes."
The pressure of their formation made lesser shinobi choke on their breath.
Mito stepped forward and released a warm surge of Nine-Tails chakra, her presence washing over the green-clad Konoha forces like a quiet shield. The oppressive atmosphere eased.
At the head of the Uchiha ranks, Uchiha Shikata strode forward, smirking.
"Mito-hime, long time," he called. "Hashirama is gone, Tobirama too. Does the Senju now lean entirely on your shoulders?"
The Senju behind her bristled.
Senju Moriki nearly exploded.
But Mito's expression only cooled.
"Do not mistake care for weakness," she said softly. "Train your clan. Sharpen your minds. Do not let ambition blind you."
Shikata laughed—loud, uncaring.
"I'm far too old to train. I'll put my faith in our Young Lord, Soren. Let him show the world what the Uchiha can do."
A shiver ran through the Hyūga patriarch.
The Uchiha's three factions were united—a sign far more terrifying than their numbers.
The air tightened.
From the horizon, the returning jōnin line approached in a long, dusty wave. When the figure at its head became visible—
Shikata's chakra-augmented voice boomed:
"Welcome back—our clan's Young Lord, Uchiha Soren! Victorious, slayer of the Second Raikage!"
The Uchiha army erupted:
"WELCOME BACK, YOUNG LORD Soren!"
The cry surged like a shockwave down the streets.
Citizens froze.
Shinobi stared.
The Senju stiffened.
Mito's eyes narrowed.
The Uchiha blazed with pride.
Shikata had meant to call for vengeance for Tobirama, but one glance at Mito's expression—icy, ancient, absolute—silenced that impulse instantly.
Through the parted crowd, Soren walked calmly forward, Jōnin armor clean, gaze sharp, expression unreadable.
This—right here, in front of all Konoha—was the moment to seize the initiative.
The first step toward Hokage begins with one thing:
Make the entire village hear your name.
Read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon -> patreon.com/lucarioTL