"All of the former allied shinobi clans are willing to return under Uchiha command."
At Uchiha Setsuna's announcement, Uchiha Soren raised a brow.
"Which clans? How many jōnin?"
Setsuna folded his arms.
"Some suffered losses on the front. Small clans like the Shiranui, Nohara, Kurama—each has around two to four jōnin left."
Soren nodded.
"So that's why Elder Setsuna wasn't worried earlier."
With such numbers, even a single Security Corps squad could wipe them out if needed.
Setsuna shrugged without remorse.
"Do what must be done—leave no room for regret."
To him, small clans were merely drifting weeds on the currents of the shinobi world. Still, they were Konoha clans; they wouldn't be massacred without provocation. Those that hadn't sided with the Senju could be tolerated… for now.
But Setsuna's eyes flashed cold.
"If any of them speaks out again, we erase them."
He dismissed the topic and turned to Uchiha Hika.
"Hika. Your task is the key. What's the status of the forbidden technique scroll?"
Hika sighed.
"Not ideal. Uzumaki Mito agreed to let us inspect the sealed grimoire containing Tobirama's forbidden techniques—but she'll decide which jutsu we may read."
Soren leaned back, voice calm.
"Don't be discouraged. Even if we get the Flying Thunder God, I'm not certain I can build a spatial transfer array immediately."
He glanced at Setsuna.
"As you said—do our part, leave the rest to fate."
Hika nodded, then added with a sharp glint:
"On the way out of the Hokage Tower, I met Senju Moriki. He insisted on hosting a gathering for you. It reeks of malice. We can turn it to our advantage."
The three elders exchanged meaningful looks.
Hika continued:
"Moriki is ambitious but incompetent. He tries to imitate Tobirama's posture but lacks his talent."
Soren realized the implication.
"You're suggesting we use Moriki to obtain the grimoire?"
Hika met his gaze steadily.
"If he's plotting against us, two methods:
One—use Moriki as leverage to force Mito to hand over the jutsu.
Two—use a compromised Moriki to stealthily extract the scroll."
Uchiha Shihō stroked his beard.
"ANBU watch the Hokage Tower day and night. Seals guard every floor. Besides a suicidal frontal raid, these two paths are our only real options."
A thin smile tugged his lips.
"Moriki offered himself—then we use him."
Before Soren could answer, Setsuna's voice cracked like a whip.
"Hold it! Young Lord, you are the Uchiha's future. You do not take reckless risks!"
Soren opened his mouth, but when he saw the elders' stern expressions, he yielded.
"Fine. The elders will decide the location."
Hika clapped his hands once.
"Then cancel Moriki's 'party.' I'll visit Mito again tomorrow. We'll pressure her. Shihō, come with me."
Shihō nodded.
Then he turned to Soren.
"Tomorrow, Setsuna will accompany you to greet the returning allied clans. Be the bridge that binds the Uchiha—don't let youth and pride make you stumble."
Soren accepted the charge.
"You have my word. I will not act recklessly."
The elders relaxed.
Smiles spread.
Shihō clapped his hands.
"Good. Now eat. My wife cooked tonight—you'll remember why coming home feels worth it."
The meal was cheerful and warm.
Meanwhile — Senju Clan Compound
In the Senju estate, Senju Moriki knelt before Uzumaki Mito.
Her voice was cool and razor-sharp.
"Why invite Uchiha Soren?"
Moriki swallowed.
"To improve relations… to apologize… to—"
His flimsy lie almost made Mito snap.
"If you weren't Tsunade's father—and the Senju clan head—I would slap you across this room."
Moriki's face burned; he clenched his teeth.
Mito's expression softened—but only slightly. Not for him, but because the Senju's prospects rested solely on Tsunade now. Her son had proven hopeless politically; her clan was thinning; Tobirama's death had crushed the last pillar of certainty.
The forbidden grimoire lay open before her—ancient jutsu, seals, spatial formulae.
Seven days until the Hokage election.
Seven days until the village tested her hand.
At last she sighed.
"Invite him if you must. Those three Uchiha elders won't let Soren act recklessly."
Then, her expression changed.
"We received a message from the daimyo: his heir and a princess are visiting tomorrow."
Moriki blinked.
Mito closed the grimoire.
"I will visit the wounded veterans at the front. You will host the envoy. Do not make trouble."
She dismissed him with a wave.
Moriki bowed.
Then he left.
A smile slid across his lips—
thin, sharp, full of shadow.
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