237. Election

“Hmm~ so this is the taste of peace?”

In the early morning, a beam of piercing sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains, landing squarely on a handsome, slumbering face. Uchiha Gin, who had just engaged in an intense battle of endurance the previous night, was awakened by the noisy clamor outside. Stretching his hand to block the scorching sunlight, he slowly sat up, rubbed his bleary eyes, and sighed contentedly at the blissful leisure of his salted-fish lifestyle.

"Bang!!!"

Before he could fully wake up and do his morning stretches, the fragile door to his bedroom was smashed open by a burst of immense force. Wood splinters flew, and dust filled the air.

“How many times have I told you to knock gently? Even if the door can repair itself, you should still treat it with care!”

Without even looking, Uchiha Gin already knew who had arrived. The momentarily spirited look in his eyes turned into a dead-fish stare. His fists clenched as a short-haired girl emerged from the smoke.

“What were you doing last night?”

Ignoring his complaints, Senju Itama narrowed her eyes, scanning the shirtless, muscular Gin from head to toe. She paid particular attention to his face and neck, searching for any incriminating evidence.

Finding nothing suspicious, she furrowed her delicate brows and pressed on relentlessly.

“Ha~ I went out for a night run.”

Thankfully, due to his unique physique, the traces of his escapades with Uzumaki Mito last night had long since vanished. Feeling reassured, Gin crossed his arms and replied righteously.

“Then why were you panting so loudly when you got back late at night?”

Suspicious, Itama stared at Gin’s composed face. She had passed by his room during a late-night trip and found it empty. Shortly after, he’d returned stealthily, breathless and disheveled, before collapsing into bed.

“Oh, that was you last night? I told you, it was a night run! Panting is normal!”

Gin recalled sensing a peeping presence when he teleported back but dismissed it as there was no malicious intent.

“Wait, why do you smell like oysters?”

Itama’s sharp sense of smell was almost terrifying.

“Can’t I grab a midnight snack during a run?”

Gin sniffed himself reflexively. Aside from his natural masculine scent, there was indeed a faint aroma of oysters. Fortunately, the night market on Konoha’s commercial street was bustling, offering plenty of snacks to cover for him. He quickly provided a reasonable explanation.

“Stop sneaking snacks outside. Come down and eat.”

Itama raised her brows, staring at Gin with a meaningful look that made him slightly uncomfortable. Then she turned away, her face cold and teeth clenched in frustration. Clearly, she’d picked up on some subtle clues.

“Got it~”

Feeling he had successfully fooled her, Gin grinned brightly. Life was finally good—waking up to prepared meals every day.


---

At breakfast, Gin, now in his loungewear, devoured the food Itama had meticulously prepared. After sipping a bowl of sweet congee, he commented happily, “Your cooking gets better and better, but there’s not enough sugar in this porridge. Give me three more scoops!”

“Three scoops of sugar?”

Itama frowned as she watched Gin inhale his food. “You eat more sugar than rice. The doctor already warned you—high blood sugar will affect your vision. You’re a Sharingan user. Take care of yourself.”

“Just one little scoop?”

Gin gestured with his pinky, pleading for a tiny addition.

“No!”

Determined not to fall for his fake pitiful act, Itama held the sugar jar tightly.

“Hmph.”

Gin smirked internally. A ninja of my caliber doesn’t fear diabetes. How laughable!


---

Just as Gin finished his last bite of porridge, a rhythmic knock sounded at the door.

“I’ll get it.”

Itama answered and returned shortly, followed by a cold-faced man with black hair.

“He’s here for you. I’ll go wash the dishes.”

“Cousin! What brings you here?”

Feeling satisfied and curious, Gin looked at Uchiha Madara. It was unusual for him to visit alone, especially since he was usually inseparable from Hashirama.

“I wanted to ask your opinion on something.”

Since their father’s death, Madara had regarded Gin as a paternal figure. Though unreliable at times, Gin was the only elder he could confide in for this matter.

“Is it about the clan?”

Gin felt uneasy. Had one of his “activities” been exposed, and was Madara here to settle the score?

“No, it’s about Konoha.”

Konoha? Madara, caring about Konoha? Gin raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“I want to become Hokage.”

Madara’s usually cold eyes flickered with determination as he spoke, word by word.

“Ha?”

Gin froze, his old brain failing to process the information for a moment. He cleaned out his ear and signaled for Madara to repeat.

“I said, I want to be Hokage!”

Feeling mocked by Gin’s dumbfounded reaction, Madara frowned and repeated firmly.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

Gin’s expression turned to one of disbelief.

“Is it that absurd?”

Madara bristled. If Hashirama supported him, why couldn’t he aim for the position?

“Wanting to be Hokage isn’t ridiculous, but hearing it from you... it’s hard not to laugh.”

Gin chuckled. The future biggest rebel of Konoha dreaming of becoming its leader? The irony was overwhelming.


---

After much debate (and a near-destruction of the house), Gin sat down with Madara over tea to discuss the matter.

“You’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that. But listen, if you want to be Hokage, don’t forget—someone’s always watching from the rooftops, ready to spin your story.”

Madara’s resolve was tested, but Gin’s sly wisdom may yet keep him from the dark path.


“You.”

Uchiha Madara, feeling so distressed it reached his very core, looked like he wanted to say something but stopped.

"It’s fine. You’ll understand as you get older~"

After thoroughly stirring the tea and rock sugar, Uchiha Gin gulped it down in one go, showing a satisfied expression before turning to Madara.

"Heh, absolutely impossible!"

Hopefully, when you're intubated, you’ll still have that same tough mouth.
"Let’s talk about your dream of becoming Hokage~"

With the sugar absorbed, Uchiha Gin seemed more energized and began discussing the serious matter.

"Actually, I didn’t plan to become Hokage initially. It was Hashirama’s mom who told me to take on the role temporarily."

Talking about serious matters, Madara immediately put on a different expression, his gaze becoming deep.

"You think Tobirama’s decisions matter?"

"Don’t they? We founded Konoha together. Don’t I even have that much privilege?"

Madara tilted his head in confusion. Konoha was half Uchiha and half Senju. The Hokage position should be as simple as moving the seat from one hand to the other.

"Cousin, times have changed~"

Seeing Madara’s outdated mindset, Gin sighed and reminded him,
"Now, it’s about following public opinion, not the old clan-dominated rules. Even if Tobirama gives up the Hokage position, you probably still won’t get it~"

"How is that possible!"

"First, you’d never pass the White-Haired One’s scrutiny. The moment you aim for Hokage, he’ll be the first to jump up and oppose you."

Gin raised a finger, wagging it as he spoke.

"Hmph! I haven’t even settled old scores with him yet. If he dares oppose me, he shouldn’t blame me for being ruthless!"

As soon as Senju Tobirama was mentioned, Madara’s mind filled with the tragic image of his father’s death. That scene always haunted him when he pondered the tablet, slowly breeding his hatred.

"Also, the Daimyo has likely only acknowledged Hashirama as Hokage. If it were you instead, whether the 'One Country, One Village' agreement could even be maintained would be uncertain."

Gin raised a second finger, his eyes flickering. His words cooled Madara’s agitation and made him reflect on the cascading consequences of becoming Hokage.

"I can negotiate with the nobles."

Madara lowered his head in thought before confidently replying. To him, the Daimyo didn’t truly care who became Hokage. What they wanted was stability in the Land of Fire. Whatever Hashirama could achieve, so could he.

"Alright, then let me tell you the third and most important reason."

Seeing that his cousin wasn’t giving up, Gin sighed inwardly. A fine young man, but why was he so obsessed with the Will of Fire? Wouldn’t staying home as clan leader be better? Gin squinted, raised a third finger, and said,

"What is it?"

"Public opinion and reputation. Compared to Hashirama, you fall far short. In the hearts of Konoha’s shinobi clans, it was Hashirama who tirelessly built Konoha, while you, Uchiha Madara, have done nothing of substance."

"I need their approval to become Hokage?"

Madara was irritated. Gin’s words were like a sharp blade, piercing his final defenses.

"If you view them as mere ants, I suggest you give up on becoming Hokage."

Gin knew Madara’s pride. In the entire shinobi world, only Hashirama was worthy of Madara’s attention. After years of rivalry, this was his chance to surpass him. But—

"Actually, you don’t truly want to be Hokage. You just want to beat Hashirama this once~"

Gin’s words struck straight to the heart. Madara, already silent, became even more so.

"Knock, knock, knock~"

Suddenly, a knock broke the brothers' tense silence.

"Who is it~?"

Senju Itama’s cheerful voice came through. After some quick footsteps, Gin’s door opened again.

"Uh, what brings you here?"

Itama’s surprised voice suggested unexpected guests had arrived.

"Haha, nothing much. We heard Madara was here. Is he still around?"

A familiar voice at the door, accompanied by hearty laughter, made Madara frown slightly.

"In the reception room. Go find him yourself."

"So cold. Isn’t he your big brother?"

"Oh, he’s just sulking because he wasn’t recognized."

"Madara, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!"

Hashirama’s boisterous voice entered, followed by Tobirama’s grumpy expression as he stared at Madara.

"Hashirama, what do you want?"

Madara regained some composure upon seeing Hashirama, ignoring Tobirama’s glare.

"Actually…"

Looking at Madara’s grim expression, Hashirama found himself unable to speak.

"Backing out?"

After Gin’s earlier guidance, Madara had already guessed what Hashirama wanted to say.

"Haha, I knew it. Madara is clever and absolutely capable!"

Hashirama scratched his head awkwardly and grinned at his brother.

"Hmph! At least he knows his place and that he’s unworthy."

"Hey, I’m still here! How dare you badmouth my kid in front of me?"

Gin, initially watching the drama unfold, suddenly got upset after hearing Tobirama’s harsh comment.

"Gin, this doesn’t concern you."

Tobirama shifted his gaze to Gin and spoke coldly.

"How is it unrelated? If my cousin becomes Hokage, I’ll be free to rule the roost!"

Gin stood with his hands on his hips, retorting firmly.

"Cousin, didn’t you say I couldn’t do it earlier?"

Madara nudged Gin with a puzzled look. But Gin’s words warmed his heart; he wasn’t alone. No way would he let the White-Haired One bully him.

"Hmph! Whether I can or not, it’s not up to him!"

Gin waved his hand dramatically, standing his ground.

"Relax, Gin. Tobirama has a sharp tongue but a good heart."

Hashirama tried to smooth things over with a smile.

"By the way, Madara, while I can’t guarantee you the Hokage position, you’re still one of the candidates."

Gin narrowed his eyes at Hashirama’s smooth handling. Sure, Madara probably wouldn’t become Hokage, but Hashirama still made sure to save his pride.

"Candidates? Who else?"

Gin raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, representatives from every clan. They’re all eligible to compete for Hokage."

Madara frowned. This didn’t sound like the simple duel between him and Hashirama he had envisioned.

"So many?"

Gin muttered, confused. Wasn’t this supposed to be a straightforward contest between two leaders?

"Of course. The selection process must be fair, open, and impartial."

Gin felt like something was off. Were they too in sync?

"Hashirama, you think like me!"

Madara, hearing similar ideals, was moved. He opened his arms, and the two rivals embraced tearfully.

"...What are the criteria for this Hokage selection?"

Gin finally sighed and directed his question to Tobirama.

"Criteria? Probably strength and wisdom."

Tobirama’s vague answer left Gin unimpressed.

"Come on, can’t you be more serious about this official event?"

Gin snapped back, annoyed.

"Why does it matter to you? You’re not even participating."

Tobirama, exasperated, pointed to Gin’s peculiar collection of figurines.

"You white-haired menace! Do you know whose house this is?"

Gin flared up but suddenly noticed Itama stretching her muscles behind him, sending shivers down Tobirama’s spine. Reluctantly, he mumbled an apology.

The discussion faded into humor and mockery as they prepared for the chaotic contest ahead.