The Hokage's office was heavy with silence, the kind that precedes thunder, Hiruzen Sarutobi stood with his back to the large window, sunlight pouring in over his robes, casting long shadows across the floor. He wasn't smoking his pipe. He didn't even reach for it.
He was smiling, cross from him, the Elders sat in a semicircle, papers in hand, brows furrowed.
Homura Mitokado slapped the scroll down onto the table, "He disrespected you!" he barked. "Mocked you in front of every Clan Head in the village! He didn't bow. Didn't salute. Didn't even speak your full title."
"Let alone the Elder Council," added Koharu Utatane, her eyes narrow with contempt, "And now he openly strips shinobi of their names and legacy like a petty tyrant?"
Danzo Shimura, seated with his arms crossed, said nothing. But the tension in his shoulders betrayed his anticipation and yet, Hiruzen remained perfectly calm.
In fact… he looked pleased, "I'm aware of his behavior," he said mildly, turning back toward them.
He reached down to the stack of scrolls on his desk, one marked with the red wax seal of the Senju, and held it up.
"Do you know what this is?"
Koharu gave a sour glance, "More arrogance, I assume."
Hiruzen popped the seal with his thumb and let the scroll unravel, "The complete list," he said. "All seventy of the Senju who formerly served under ANBU and Root operations. Kuma has formally rejected their reentry into the clan. In doing so, they are no longer protected by Senju clan law. They forfeit all inheritance, land, and internal support."
Danzo's eye narrowed. "So they belong to us again."
Hiruzen nodded, "Unbound. Unburdened. Loyal to the systems we built them for."
Homura looked appalled, "And that doesn't bother you?"
"Why should it?" Hiruzen said, finally sitting, "We've lost nothing. Those shinobi were already ours. Now, we don't have to wrestle with clan politics or ancestral disputes. They are wholly Konoha's."
"But the Senju.." Koharu began, Hiruzen raised a hand, "Have just lost seventy trained shinobi ranging from Elite Chunin to Elite Jonin," he said sharply, "They are weaker now. Less militarized. Less independent. Kuma has taken a prideful stance, yes but one that isolates him further from true power."
The room went quiet, Danzo finally leaned forward, speaking for the first time, "And what of his strength? You saw it. Everyone did. That wasn't standard Water Release."
Hiruzen tilted his head, thoughtful, "Yes. His jutsu was powerful. But exaggerated. Flashy. Unsustainable in an extended engagement. You saw the flare, the spectacle. It was meant to intimidate, not endure."
He steepled his fingers, "I'm not concerned."
Danzo frowned, "Even the Barrier Corps moved without orders. They sensed a threat."
"And they contained it," Hiruzen said coolly, "As they were trained to do."
He tapped the scroll lightly, "Kuma may be bold, even clever. But he is still just one Jonin. He lacks structure, he lacks tradition, his strength, whatever its source, is isolated."
Danzo's lips thinned. "And what if it isn't?"
Hiruzen's smile returned, "Sakumo Hatake still walks this village," he said "He is our second strongest and far more disciplined. Every clan has hidden cards. The Nara have their shadow. The Uchiha have their eyes. The Hyuga have their precision."
He shrugged. "So the Senju have their boiling water. Let them."
He leaned back, satisfied, "For the first time in decades, the Senju are in the palm of our hand and they put themselves there."
Danzo said nothing more but he didn't look convinced.
Hiruzen then thought about something, he was thinking of bloodlines, specifically, Senju bloodlines.
The list Kuma had delivered, the seventy names now clanless was more than a political document.
It was an opportunity, they were no longer bound by Senju law. No longer protected by ancestral courts or internal clan traditions. Officially, they were civilians under ANBU jurisdiction, shinobi of the village alone.
Some had the stamina of Tobirama, others displayed regenerative potential on par with pre-war Tsunade. Many had elemental affinities that leaned toward Water or Earth, rare combinations that could be cultivated.
And they were now drifting, without a banner or identity.
Perfect for absorption, Hiruzen's eyes flicked toward a nearby scroll sealed in crimson wax with the mark of the Sarutobi Clan.
'My clan will take them,' he thought, 'A few at a time. Quietly. Marry them in. Let the blood dilute slowly but the strength remain.'
It was poetic in a way, Kuma cast them aside, but Hiruzen would use them, not to rebuild the Senju but to elevate the Sarutobi.
Danzo's voice broke the silence, snapping Hiruzen from his thoughts.
"There is… another concern."
All eyes turned toward him, Danzo's gaze was sharp, focused, and calculated.
"Sakumo Hatake," Homura frowned, "The White Fang?"
Danzo nodded, "He oversaw the duel, yes. But his popularity is growing. Quickly. Even among the Clan Heads. There are whispers."
"Of what?" Koharu asked warily, Danzo's lips thinned, "Of succession."
The word sent a ripple through the chamber, Hiruzen exhaled slowly, pipe still resting unused beside him.
"I've heard them too," he admitted, "He is efficient, respected, untainted by political scandal."
"He's also dangerous," Koharu snapped, "Too independent. Too powerful. He doesn't answer to anyone but you."
Danzo leaned forward. "And he won't. Not forever."
Homura added grimly, "Some already say he should be the Fourth Hokage."
Hiruzen didn't flinch, but his fingers tapped the desk once.
"He is loyal," Hiruzen said, "And a weapon Konoha still needs. His blade has protected this village more times than any of you can count."
Danzo's voice was cold, "So did Madara."
That drew a sharp look from Hiruzen, "Madara never bled for this village," he replied, "Sakumo has repeatedly. He is not our enemy."
"But he could be," Danzo pressed, "Or worse, he could inspire those who are."
The implication hung heavy, Kuma Senju or others like him, a rising power outside of Elder control.
Danzo's next words were slow. Intentional, "Perhaps we don't kill him. Perhaps we simply… lower his value."
Koharu tilted her head, "You mean his reputation."
"Exactly," Danzo said, "Make the people doubt. Question. Remind them that even legends stumble."
Hiruzen didn't respond immediately, He turned, gazing out the window toward the training fields below. Young shinobi sparring in the yard. Children who would one day kill or die under banners written by men in this very room.
He didn't like the idea but he didn't reject it.
Danzo saw that, he nodded once, rising to his feet, "You need not support it. Only… ignore it."
And with that, he left the chamber like a whisper through the air, Homura and Koharu exchanged glances, Hiruzen didn't look away from the window.
His reflection stared back at him in the glass, Old, but not frail, a Hokage still in his prime.
'We don't need to destroy him,' he thought, 'Only… dull the edge.'
Kuma Senju sat cross-legged at his desk, pen tapping rhythmically against the side of a financial scroll.
His office, once gloomy and lifeless, now bore the quiet chaos of a mind in motion. Scrolls lay open across the desk in a fan-like pattern, property records, business licenses, contract transfers. He scanned each one carefully, eyes flicking between land titles and asset ledgers.
"Seventy inheritance bundles," he muttered, marking a scroll with red ink, "Over 250 million Ryo in assets, and I only need…"
He paused, thinking, one hundred million, that was the number.
That's what he planned to liquidate real estate parcels, inactive shinobi-run supply companies, and a few unused dojo lots, all of it would fund the Senju Restoration Fund.
Not for weapons or more warriors but for the widows, the orphans, and the scarred veterans who came back broken from the war and were left with nothing but stories and pain.
If they felt supported and respected, they'd follow him with more loyalty than any rank could ever buy.
"A village can train a soldier," Kuma said softly "But only a clan can mourn one."
His fingers moved quickly, listing allocation plans, 30 million Ryo to a new Senju Widows' Endowment, 25 million to a dedicated Senju Medical Relief Fund, 15 million to housing and education for Senju War Orphans, 10 million to reconstruct damaged clan buildings, and 20 million in reserves for future clan needs.
Even before war drums beat again, Kuma intended to make sure his people could stand proud, heads high, not broken relics expected to serve and die.
He sealed another scroll and leaned back, eyes heavy with mental fatigue, and then the door creaked open.
He didn't look up at first, "I swear, if it's another bureaucrat trying to sell me 'chakra-efficient sealing paper,' I'm about to..."
"I'm not a salesman," came a familiar voice, "But I do come bearing medical expertise."
Kuma blinked, looked up, and nearly choked on air, Standing in the doorway, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, was Tsunade.
But not in her usual battle wear, she wore a pristine white doctor's coat, open at the front but neat and crisp. Her golden hair was tied into a high ponytail, cascading over her shoulder. Thin-framed glasses perched on her nose. Beneath the coat, her fitted blouse and skirt, likely standard medical attire—clung just enough to make Kuma forget how to blink.
For a second, he thought he'd fallen asleep and dreamed this, "…So," he said slowly, "are you here to diagnose me, or is this some kind of… Senju-themed roleplay session?"
Tsunade's expression darkened instantly, "You have five seconds," she growled, "before I give you a concussion Jiraiya would envy."
Kuma held up both hands in surrender, grinning far too wide, "Hey, hey, just saying, if you ever need a test subject...."
"You're insufferable."
"I'm single."
"We're cousins."
"…Konoha doesn't enforce that strictly, " Tsunade marched forward, cracking her knuckles, and Kuma immediately raised a scroll as a shield.
"I yield! I yield!" he laughed.
Tsunade sighed, rubbing her forehead, "I came because I heard you were working. Like an idiot. While hungover."
"I'm an efficient idiot," Kuma said, gesturing at the mountain of stamped scrolls, "I'm liquidating one hundred million Ryo worth of abandoned Senju assets."
She blinked, "…You're what?"
"To fund recovery programs," he added, "Medical relief, widow support, war orphan housing. Basically, stuff my father should've done years ago."
Tsunade's eyes softened slightly, "…You're serious?"
"As a Byakugan in a staring contest."
Tsunade walked over, slowly picking up one of the allocation charts. Her brow furrowed as she read.
"This… this is smart. This could actually change lives," Kuma shrugged, "That's the idea. A strong clan starts at home. I'm not building an army, I'm building a future."
Tsunade didn't speak for a while, then softly, "Hashirama would've been proud."
Kuma looked up, surprised by the sincerity in her voice, he didn't joke this time, "Thanks."
She set the scroll down, Kuma had just begun placing the scroll to the side when a sharp thwack landed on the top of his head.
"Ow—what the hell?!"
He looked up to see Tsunade glaring at him, one hand still raised, the other adjusting her glasses like she hadn't just struck him with enough force to rattle his molars.
"I'm checking to see if you have brain damage," she said flatly, "After last night, I wouldn't be surprised."
Kuma rubbed his scalp, scowling, "There are subtler ways to show concern, you know."
"Not for stubborn idiots like you."
He chuckled under his breath, then narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion, "Wait, you didn't come here just to whack me, did you?"
Tsunade crossed her arms and exhaled, "I came to tell you I'm starting medical ninjutsu training for the Senju."
Kuma blinked, and the words sank in slowly.
"You're serious?"
"Of course I'm serious."
"You're really going to train clan members? Personally?"
Tsunade raised an eyebrow, "You thought I wouldn't?"
Kuma leaned back, stunned, "Honestly? I figured you'd make me beg for it. Or charge me a few million Ryo."
Tsunade smirked, "Speaking of Ryo don't think I forgot. You owe me a million."
Kuma groaned, "Come on, Tsunade, can't you clear last night's debt now that you're all… nurturing and motherly?"
The glare she shot him could've petrified Orochimaru or Danzo, "Say 'motherly' again. I dare you."
Kuma held up his hands in surrender, "Point taken."
Tsunade uncrossed her arms and pointed a finger toward him, her tone shifting to something more resolute.
"Tomorrow morning, I expect every able-bodied Senju shinobi at the clan training ground. If they can walk and mold chakra, they're coming."
Kuma whistled low, "That serious?"
Tsunade's voice dropped an octave, "Medical ninjutsu isn't a luxury. It's battlefield survival. I've watched too many comrades die because someone couldn't close a wound or stabilize a patient before medics arrived."
She paused, "We lost a third of our clan in the war. I won't lose another third in the next one."
Her words hung in the air, not as a threat but a vow, Kuma nodded slowly, impressed.
"You're dead serious about this."
"I am."
"You're kind of scary when you're responsible."
Tsunade rolled her eyes, "And you're still annoying when you're impressed."
Kuma chuckled, "Fine. Tomorrow morning, I'll have them all there. I'll even set up a roster. Senju Medical Corps has a nice ring to it."
He leaned forward, lacing his fingers, "And hey… thanks."
Tsunade looked at him for a moment, her expression unreadable, then she smirked, "Just make sure I don't regret it."
She turned on her heel and walked out of the office with a swish of her coat, hair swaying in its ponytail like a banner of purpose.
Kuma watched her go, then leaned back and exhaled, "She's gonna turn the training ground into a hospital boot camp…"
He grinned, awaiting to see the results.