The crowd quickly descended into chaos.
People argued back and forth, faces red and voices raised, until it nearly escalated into a full-blown brawl. Fortunately, the Uchiha clan patrol responsible for routine village security noticed the disturbance in time.
They immediately moved in.
The lead Uchiha wore his usual cold expression. Two tomoe spun slowly in his Sharingan as he raised the black iron baton in his hand and barked sharply:
"What do you think you're doing?!"
"Don't you know that gathering to fight is a violation of Konoha's public order regulations?"
"Or would you like to come have some tea with us at the Konoha Police Force?"
The moment the crowd realized it was an Uchiha patrol unit, panic broke out. Like startled birds, they scattered in all directions, not daring to linger for even a second.
No one dared offend the Uchiha clan.
And the patrol members were not the sort to go easy on people who disrupted village order. Whether civilian or ninja, anyone involved in public brawls would be dealt with severely.
The people involved were nothing more than ordinary villagers and low-ranking ninja—there was no chance of resistance. They could only curse under their breath as they fled.
"Hah, what cowards."
"They ran the moment they saw us."
The lead Uchiha watched them vanish and couldn't help but grin smugly. The others behind him laughed along.
At first, many Uchiha had felt that Senju Tobirama was deliberately tormenting them by assigning all routine patrol duties to their clan—dressing it up as "the responsibility of a founding clan."
But now?
They were starting to enjoy the taste of authority.
This is how it should be.
The Uchiha were strong—
And the strong were meant to inspire fear.
They would protect the village.
They would make sure troublemakers behaved themselves.
That was the Uchiha clan's responsibility.
The potential riot was cut short, but the core topic of the argument—"Konoha's inherent flaws"—spread even further.
That said, the vast majority of Konoha's people still treated it as a joke. Very few truly believed the idea that Konoha possessed some deep-rooted flaw.
After all, Konoha was powerful.
What had just happened was merely a handful of attention-seeking clowns trying to stir things up. Anyone who actually believed such nonsense was either an idiot—or a fool.
(Senju Hashirama didn't count. He was just naive.)
But Makoto's goal had already been achieved.
A seed had been planted.
All that remained was to water it, fertilize it, and wait for it to take root.
Konoha had begun at its peak.
Once Hashirama died, the village would only decline.
And when decline began—
Especially during wartime—
All manner of monsters and crooked ideologies would emerge, multiplying until they became mainstream.
At this moment, Hashirama was still drowning in the sorrow of his failed initiative.
He truly hadn't expected Konoha's atmosphere to be this bad. Just two nights—and every single box had been emptied.
It was a test of human nature.
And human nature had failed.
Still, he had no intention of giving up.
Even if Konoha truly had such "inherent flaws," he would correct them with his own hands.
This was the village he had founded.
"Looks like I'll have to take on missions and earn the money myself…"
He sighed.
Tobirama had already made it clear—no more funding would be approved for this absurd project. If Hashirama wanted to continue, he would have to pay for it himself.
That didn't worry him.
With his strength, there was no mission in the ninja world he couldn't complete. Difficulties could be crushed head-on.
The only thing he needed to consider was distance.
Too far, and efficiency would drop.
"I'll go find Madara first. I don't think we've ever actually teamed up on a mission."
With that thought, Hashirama headed straight for the Uchiha clan compound.
"Lord Hashirama…"
"Lord Hashirama, here to see Lord Madara again?"
As he passed through the compound, Uchiha clan members greeted him respectfully.
The Uchiha admired strength—and Hashirama was a powerhouse they genuinely respected. Hashirama, in turn, responded to them all with his usual warm smile.
Soon, he found Uchiha Madara, sitting on a rock and reading a book.
"Madara, I'm short on money lately—"
Before Hashirama could even finish his sentence, Madara snapped his book shut.
"Hashirama, don't borrow money from me again."
"You still haven't paid back what you borrowed last time."
"And the time before that—after you gambled away all your allowance, you borrowed money from me and stayed at the gambling house all night. When you got home at dawn, Uzumaki Mito strung you up with Adamantine Sealing Chains and beat you."
"You even told her you borrowed money from me."
"After that, she personally came to warn me—if I ever lend you money again, she'll beat me too."
Madara looked Hashirama dead in the eye, completely serious.
"She was grinding her teeth when she said it. You know I don't like fighting women. If it really came to blows, it'd be ugly."
Madara remembered that day clearly.
Mito's expression had been murderous—like he'd committed some unforgivable crime.
All he had done was lend Hashirama a bit of money!
Tobirama had done the same!
So why was he the one Mito targeted?
Madara wasn't afraid of her threats.
If she really picked a fight, he wouldn't just stand there and take it—but the scene would be unpleasant.
And he still had to think about Hashirama's dignity.
And his own wallet.
Conclusion:
He would not lend Hashirama a single ryō ever again.
"Madara, you misunderstood!"
"I came to invite you on a mission—not to borrow money."
"Remember that charity box plan I told you about? It failed. Two million ryō vanished in two days. But I'm not giving up!"
Hashirama scratched his head awkwardly.
Being strung up and beaten by Mito was… not his proudest moment.
But he was confident—
One day, he'd win it all back.
Madara relaxed the moment he heard it wasn't about borrowing money.
As long as it wasn't that, everything was fine.
Still, he remained cool and aloof.
He'd always thought the charity box plan was absurd. With so many people moving in and out of Konoha, of course there would be bad actors.
Leaving money on the street?
It was doomed to disappear.
He'd helped Hashirama build the fifty boxes and put in forty thousand ryō each—but he'd never bothered checking them.
He already knew the result.
Better to reread Romance of the Warring States.
Personally, Madara thought the plan might have worked if the boxes were placed inside clan compounds. At least clan members had some shame.
But on public streets?
Pure waste.
"No time," Madara said flatly.
"That plan's meaningless. I want to stay home and keep up with my novel."
Madara was as tsundere as ever.
Hashirama smiled and tried to persuade him.
"Come on. The author only updates once a day anyway. Why not stockpile a bit? Finish a mission, come back, and binge-read."
"Isn't that better?"
Madara hesitated.
That damn author really was slow.
"When will the three brothers finally achieve their great ambition…?"
He replayed the plot in his mind.
Though it wasn't a ninja story, the narrative gripped him deeply—three brothers, bound by oath, wandering the world together for a shared dream.
It reminded him of himself.
He and Hashirama had realized their childhood dream—
But Madara had lost his brother forever along the way.
What one cannot have always stirs the heart.
He longed for a perfect ending.
An ending where success came—and his brother still stood beside him.
His thoughts returned to reality.
"…Fine. I'll go with you."
"Don't expect much, though."
After the usual routine, Madara reluctantly agreed. Hashirama immediately beamed and plopped down beside him on the rock.
"I haven't read today's update yet."
"How was it?"
Madara snorted.
"That bastard cut it off at the climax again."
"Damn him."
"Absolutely a bastard."
The atmosphere lightened.
For the next half hour, the two of them enthusiastically cursed the "dog author" of Romance of the Warring States, then dove into heated discussion about the plot.
Eventually, they began speculating about the ending.
"I heard a rumor the ending's tragic," Hashirama said cautiously.
"Impossible!" Madara snapped.
"The author's treated the three brothers as protagonists from the start. The story's been nothing but rising momentum—didn't the northern enemy just get wiped out in a single fire?"
(Battle of Red Cliffs reference)
Madara was adamant.
He couldn't accept a bad ending after following the story for so long.
Hashirama noticed his agitation and spoke gently.
"It's just a rumor. I want a good ending too—just like you and me, achieving our dream together."
Madara's eyes dimmed slightly.
You still have Tobirama. You have Mito. You'll have children.
I have nothing.
"Madara?" Hashirama asked softly.
Madara suppressed his emotions and returned to his usual calm demeanor.
"…It's nothing."
"Let's go. Time to take a mission."
He stood and walked ahead without another word.
Hashirama watched his back.
For some reason, it looked lonely.
But he shook his head.
I must be overthinking it.
And quickly followed after him.
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