Tobirama and Hashirama

Files filled the Hokage's Office, stacked in neat little mountains all around the room.

Suddenly, a pair of large hands moved aside the files blocking the view across the desk.

Hashirama's honest face emerged from behind the mountain of papers. A black bandage was wrapped around his forehead, and his bright eyes glinted as they darted about, furtively sizing up Tobirama, who was earnestly reading files to his front left.

"Tobirama, do you remember where the armor is?"

Tobirama's train of thought interrupted, he reluctantly turned over the proposal file titled "Ninja Strength Classification Proposal" and set it facedown on the desk. Without hesitation, he replied, "Our sister-in-law is in charge of the armor."

"Oh, right. Mito has it. I remember now."

Hashirama tapped his chin with his pen as he spoke, then smiled at Tobirama's slightly exasperated look. He stood and moved the files he'd finished processing from the desktop to a corner.

"What do you think of this proposal?"

Hashirama, dressed in a white robe, strolled over to Tobirama's desk and pointed at the file in his hands, asking curiously.

"It came at just the right time, when the village needs change. It's a good proposal."

Tobirama looked away from the file and took a sip of tea. His gaze shifted to the end of the document, where he found the proposer standing right in front of him. Understanding the implication behind Hashirama's words, he praised him without even looking up.

The village's current internal conflicts were mainly between ninja from clans and ordinary ninja, with mission assignments at the heart of the matter.

Although their cooperation over the past few months had greatly reduced the number of conflicts, they still accounted for the bulk of all incidents.

They understood the decision to break them up and assign them to new teams. After all, everyone had gathered to form a Hidden Village, and by now they had all come to think of themselves as Konoha Ninja.

They could put up with anything else, but missions were their source of income!

In the new village, the land was free, and building materials were easy to come by. Putting up a house cost little more than the labor, and the more hardworking could even build one themselves.

The furniture they'd brought from their old clan grounds would have to do for now. But once they'd settled in and carefully tallied their daily expenses, they found their costs had risen considerably in every respect.

At their old clan grounds, if they ran low on meat, they could hunt in the forest or buy some from their clan. Now, buying was their only option. The animals around the village had long since been hunted to extinction by the ravenous ninja.

There was no shortage of vegetables. The new clan grounds had plenty of open land where they could plant crops just as before, and the village market also carried specialties from other countries, adding to the variety of produce.

The lights went out early at night, and there wasn't much to do. Many households were soon going to have another mouth to feed.

With so many people from different clans living together in the village, they also had to buy more clothes to save face. Then there were the costs of tools and armor for missions, as well as their upkeep. All of it required a hefty sum.

And those were only the ninja from clans, who were relatively better off. Ordinary ninja might be even more desperate for money.

Ultimately, it all came down to money. As the second-in-command of the Senju Clan, Tobirama knew all too well what was going on.

"Dividing ninja into upper, middle, and lower tiers based on strength is a good idea." Tobirama picked up his pen and added to the fresh document. "We can also decide on the standards for each tier, and what kinds of missions ninja at each level can accept."

Hashirama brought over a chair, plopped down, and leaned forward to watch Tobirama write.

He genuinely admired his ever-resourceful younger brother.

A trace of affection showed in Tobirama's red eyes as he glanced at his older brother, who didn't act like a Hokage in the slightest. Then he continued, "This alone won't be enough. We also need to create a file for every ninja, documenting all their individual abilities and specialties so we can form better groups and assemble different teams."

"That might be difficult. It won't be easy to find people to assess all the ninja."

If they created a file for every ninja, many of them would surely stall and make excuses. Revealing their abilities would be like handing their trump cards to someone else. Hashirama knew this, of course. He rubbed his chin in frustration, searching his mind for suitable candidates.

They were short on people. The village was desperately short on people.

There were ninja with ability, but few who could set aside their own interests. And there wasn't enough time to find and train new talent.

"Has the clan's reform nearly been completed?"

Tobirama suddenly remembered the difficult decision that had been met with constant opposition from within the clan ever since the village was founded.

"Most of them have quietly blended into the village, except for those clan members who became well-known after distinguishing themselves on the battlefield."

Hashirama stood and rummaged through the files against the wall. After a while, he found a brown scroll marked with the character "Sen" and brought it over.

He slowly unrolled it across the desk. A dense list of names came into view. Though they had changed their surnames, Tobirama recognized them at a glance. Smiling, he nodded and said, "Now we can give them the compensation we promised."

Seeing Tobirama's narrowed eyes, Hashirama understood what he was thinking and replied in unspoken agreement, "This should solve our staffing shortage."

"Yes. They've been quietly working in every department, so the village's affairs are all within our grasp."

Tobirama said this in agreement, head bowed, but his pen never stopped moving. Recalling their personalities and abilities, he swiftly wrote down the jobs best suited to each of them.

Those with steady temperaments could handle ninja rankings, while the quick-witted could deal with the clans and manage the files.

Hashirama quietly moved his chair back to his own spot. They had to finish the urgent business within the next few days so they could head out and capture the Tailed Beasts.

Hashirama picked up a file and paused, remembering Madara's foolish claim that he could take on the Nine-Tails by himself. He pursed his lips, genuinely unconvinced.

The Nine-Tails was so strong.

They'd definitely need to work together. There was no way Hashirama would let Madara leave him behind and go gallivanting outside the village alone.

Twilight crept gently across the sky. The deepening night mingled with the fading light, while cicadas noisily invaded Konoha's midsummer. Fortunately, nightfall brought a cool summer breeze that swept away the day's heat, making the evening feel pleasant.

Rikusei walked in the shade, doing his best to avoid the setting sun. As he passed the Hokage Building, he stopped to take a close look, but found he couldn't see anything from outside. He turned away and continued strolling along the street, bathed in the sunset glow.

Because they were going to capture Tailed Beasts, the school had given the students on the list a few days off so they could go home and prepare.

Some students went to class, while others went on a field trip.

As the top dog of the Ninja Academy, Senju Tobirama was just that ruthless.

There were Nine Tailed Beasts, and twenty people at a time would be more than enough to handle the number of students at the school.

As for Rikusei, on the first day of his break he had nearly burned down the clan grounds, and Madara had swiped his custom pot. After training today, his seasoning recipe had been swindled from him too.

Putting the unpleasant memories aside, Rikusei was certain his hot-pot craving had kicked in, so he headed for the ninja tool shop. Beneath his bright, handsome clothes were the bruises from his loving training. Luckily, he'd applied ointment in time, so they hadn't hurt too badly. His bruised skin would be back to normal by tomorrow.

A huge iron shuriken hung above the ninja tool shop. Its spotless surface reflected the setting sun. Rikusei raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare and walked forward with practiced ease.