A week had passed since his brother and Uchiha Madara made peace.

Narutally, making peace involved and required a lot more than just a handshake. The scenes on the river had been full of excitement, like a Braavosi mummer's farce. It might have left the warriors that had borne witness to it filled with inspiration and hope, but the clan was composed of other people as well.

There were civilians who did non-combatant work, the permanently injured or simply aged retirees that made up their reserves, and of course the grouchy clan elders whose memories and grudges ran deep.

And it wasn't just peace Hashirama and Madara had agreed to. No, it was an alliance. A permanent one, secured by the two clans building a village and moving into it.

The idea was… lunacy. An idea so ridiculous it could only have been conceived by a pair of pre-teens. Those boys had now turned into two of the strongest men on their continent.

"It starts with us!" Hashirama declared one day, before marching over into Uchiha territory and growing a massive sprawling wooden complex of residential buildings.

Then, he returned to the Senju settlement, in the dark of night.

Itama was violently awoken by wood clones bursting into his own room. They burst in and began to grab his personal artifacts, even going so far as to grab his futon with him still in it. It was all to be carried to his new home, Hashirama told him, refusing to budge.

"Dammit you can't just take over the land anija!"

"Why, who's going to stop me?"

Itama opened his mouth to respond, but stopped. He's right, Itama realized, sluggishly wiping the sleep out of his own eyes. The Senju settlement was located on land ultimately owned by the daimyo of the Land of Fire. The Uchiha, on the other hand, owned their own soil. They were sovereign nobility in their own right, though nominally subservient to the same daimyo.

In other words, only the Uchiha could stop Hashirama. But would they?

"Fine, have it your way," he eventually allowed, before going back to sleep in his brother's arms.

The next day Itama took a stroll about his new location his brother had chosen was good, he grudgingly had to admit.

They were bordered on one side by a range of mountains. With the sheer mass of rock looming over them, their chakra signatures would be shielded in the dip, making it difficult for scouts to see their activity and sensors to sense them.

On the other side ran two rivers, tributaries of the same river that had formed a midpoint between their territories.

The distant cawing of a hawk was the only warning he got, before Hikaku appeared before him in a burst of purple lightning.

"What is the meaning of this," he demanded, eyes wide at the sight of the houses. "What are you doing on our lands!?"

"Don't look at me," Itama said, hands up. "This is all Hashirama."

Other Uchiha filed in, dropping down into crouches before standing tall. A wall of men, clad in their high-collared outfits, all arrayed in a crescent around him, Sharingans whirling.

For a moment, he stood transported nine years into the past, a little boy about to die.

Then Madara himself appeared, a silent fury apparent as he took in the buildings, and Itama was broken out of his waking nightmare.

"Uh- look," Itama scrambled to explain, remembering how hellbent the man had been to demand his head. "This is all a misunders-"

"Hiya Madara!" Hashirama greeted, appearing from around a corner, bouncing little Kaneage on his hip. Mito walked up behind him. They looked for all the world like a happy couple out for a leisurely walk.

"Hashirama," Madara hissed, eyes blinking before narrowing at the very picture of domestic bliss. "Explain yourself."

"I was hoping you wouldn't mind but I took the liberty to accelerate our plans! I left Tobirama in charge and moved my family out here. Whaddya think?"

Madara's lips twitched, as he visibly searched for the right words to speak.

In the awkward silence that followed, Mito spoke up in her driest tone of voice.

"Husband, before asking the Lord Uchiha what he thinks about you moving your family onto his lands, perhaps you should give him the benefit of knowing the names of that family?"

Hashirama smacked his forehead, before chuckling.

"Of course! Well, you already know Itama," he began, waving a hand at him. "May I introduce you to my wife, Uzumaki Mito! And our daughter, Kaneage. Kaneage, say hi to uncle Madara!"

Kaneage raised her head from where she had hidden it against her father's shoulder, eyeing him warily.

Madara's black eyes twitched, before he composed himself.

"So you are the Senju clan's seal mistress," he muttered.

"Well met, Lord Uchiha."

"Well, you never met before but you and your men are acquainted with her work!"

Madara glowered, and the other Uchiha shifted, throwing her wary glances.

"That's all water under the bridge though. We are allies now, so her skills are at your disposal!"

Mito inclined her head, ever so slightly.

"... Well met yourself, Lady Mito," the Uchiha finally spoke, as if chewing gravel.

Madara took a second glance over the houses, seeming to come to a decision.

"Hikaku, pick a suitable spot for a compound. I will go back and fetch the builders."

"Ma-Madara," Hikaku looked shocked, his men around him as well. "Don't tell me…"

"There's no need for all of that," Hashirama protested, "I have grown houses already and I can get you some more."

"You fool, do you really think my people will want to live surrounded by your mokuton? To have your chakra permeating everything?" he glared at the Senju leader. "No, we will build our own homes."

He has a point, Itama thought. I wouldn't want my fireplace lit by Uchiha flames.

"... If you must," Hashirama muttered, face depressed and absolutely dejected.

Madara ignored him and flickered away, alongside every other Uchiha. Only Hikaku remained, eyes searching, before he too disappeared into thin air.

Madara made good on his word, as willing as Hashirama to move his residence on a split notice.

The Uchiha picked a plot of land Hikaku had deemed suitable, demarcated from what would later be called the Senju compound, by a stream.

They used their katon techniques to clear the land, blowing scorching hot streams of fire and controlling how the flames spread.

They had then picked out a large patch of oak trees. Holding his large gunbai - taller even than Itama - casually in his hands, he had made one swipe of it, producing a powerful gale of wind that turned the tall, strong trees into precisely sawed out planks.

The Uchiha had even employed stolen doton techniques to pack and shift the earth into a protective wall, and suiton techniques to manipulate the flow of a river to feed into where they wanted it to. Much weaker of course, and more wasteful than if they had been cast by a Senju of the appropriate nature, but impressive nonetheless.

Itama watched it all, observing them from the canopy of a tree.

At some point, as it became clearer and clearer that Hashirama, Mito, the clan heiress and Itama were living all on their own in an increasingly Uchiha-dominated stretch of land, members of their own clan began trickling in. They walked in a long stretch around the Uchiha, the two groups eyeing each other distrustfully but keeping their distance, and installed themselves into their new homes.

"Hey, Madara!" Hashirama yelled.

Itama rubbed a finger in his ear to get the ringing out.

"What!?" the Uchiha yelled back.

The three Senju brothers, accompanied by Toka, sat together on top of the mountain.

A stone throw away, still maintaining their distance, sat a group of Uchiha, with Madara on the one side. Of note was the one female of their group, a woman who sat huddled with a very young toddler in her arms, a little boy with tufts of dark blue hair. At her side sat a man quite familiar to Itama, Uchiha Magatama, one of the stronger captives that he and Toka had had to handle almost exclusively. Though the man had been docile, even polite, enough.

The views from the mountains were gorgeous, especially during sunset. Both groups had climbed to the top to enjoy it, at the location with the best sights, while still trying to avoid each other.

"We need a name!"

Hashirama swept an arm in front of them, to the bottom of the mountains where the two settlements spread out.

In the distance, not so close that it would bother the Uchiha, Hashirama had used his techniques to force the trees to grow taller and denser, further masking their village from sensors.

"Konohagakure no Sato!" Madara yelled, after a pause.

The Village Hidden in the Leaves.

"I like it!" Hashirama yelled back, a grin splitting his face. "No, I love it!"

Four months had passed since the peace "handshake"..

Every member of the Senju clan, and the Uchiha clan respectively had moved into their new homes.

It still came as a surprise to everyone that they were doing it. Every morning when they woke up to a new day, in their new village, with their historical archenemies within viewing distance. Every yawn was accompanied by a sense of bafflement.

Everyone was waiting for something to happen, for the other shoe to drop at some point, for the whole thing to be revealed as a ruse. A dastardly plan to gather all of the enemy into one place, in order to wipe them all out.

But that never happened.

Houses were moved into, workshops set up, storage rooms filled up and gardens transplanted. Supplies were still sent to their old settlement, but it was only a matter of time until they revealed to their contacts and trading partners about their change in address.

As such, logistics ceased to be the main challenge. The issue of governance rose up to the top instead.

It came to a head one day. A mission had come in for the Senju - a request to raid a merchant convoy coming from the Land of Tea.

Toka and three other Senju had geared up and met at the tree line.

As they were going over their final preparations, a team of six Uchiha, led by Magatama, exited the Uchiha compound and crossed their paths.

"Heading east?" Toka piped up.

Magatama eyed them, before nodding.

A tacit understanding emerged. Without saying it outright, the two groups drew up and began tree-jumping towards the south.

When members of the Uchiha team began to lag behind, the Senju slowed down as well, taking a breather next to the shame-faced Uchiha. Then, after they had rested properly, the two groups took off, the Uchiha taking point, their doujutsu better suited for scouting, and their weaker constitutions being more of the limiter than for their Senju counterparts.

The groups set up camp together that night. Had they been alone, Toka would have mandated that two of the team took half the shift, and that the other two took the other half. But, with the Uchiha right there, she decided to take a gamble and keep only one Senju on the watch at a time.

It was on the third day that the two teams realized something might be off.

Both of them had been going straight south-east without any indication of having to deviate. They passed towns after town, even the bigger ones that sat on cross-roads and would be logical places to break off from.

"Is your destination also Mikanawa harbor?" Magatama asked, eyes narrowed.

Toka felt her hackles raise.

The two teams dropped down from the tree tops to the forest floor.

Magatama brought out his mission scroll, and Toka, after a pause, did the same.

"Does your mission… happen to involve a merchant, by any means?" Toka asked, hoping against hope it wasn't the case.

"Hai," Magatama responded. "A merchant from the Land of Tea, arriving at Mikanawa harbor…"

"I see…" Toka frowned, subtly taking a defensive stance. The Senju around her followed suit, and the Uchiha reacted to their body language as well.

"Say," Magatama continued, eyes glowing red. "You wouldn't happen to have… good intentions for this merchant?"

The woman closed her eyes, frustrated, picked her mission scroll out of her pocket and threw it at him.

Scanning it with his eyes, he pried it open, Sharingan eyes absorbing the contents with a glance.

"It seems we are in a bit of a pickle. Our mission is to safeguard the merchant to his destination."

Behind her, Toka heard her clansmen rustle, sharing a nervous glance. This was bad. Really bad. Would months of peace efforts be overturned all for the fate of this one cursed merchant?

"Toka," her clansman whispered behind her, licking his lips. "Let's retreat-"

"No," Toka responded, if only it were that simple. "We have already accepted the mission. The honor and reputation of our clan is at stake."

"We also cannot abandon this merchant," Magatama replied. "Luckily," he continued, after a pause. "I believe there is a path that allows both of our clans to preserve our honors, and the terms of our new alliance. Our mission is to escort the caravan to its destination. What happens afterward is none of our concern."

"That… is absolutely ridiculous," Toka deadpanned. Then, she grinned. "But we'll take it."

Having reached an agreement, the two groups once again fell into a companionable silence, making their way to Mikanawa.

As they arrived at the caravan, the Uchiha introduced themselves, while Toka wove an illusion to hide her team from view.

Conveniently, their respective benefactors had decided to contract other shinobi as well. This only helped them in maintaining their ruse.

Halfway to their destination, Toka and her team attacked, neutralizing the other guards, before being "driven back" by the Uchiha.

Later on, Toka let slip to Magatama that they had noticed a group of shinobi skulking about. When their attack came, the Uchiha dispatched them with contemptuous ease.

Finally, the caravan arrived at its destination in the northeastern reaches of the Land of Fire, a city called Mamurogawa not too far from the border with the Land of Hot Water.

The merchant thanked the Uchiha for their services and paid them their full amounts, along with a bonus from the sums they no longer had to pay the other (dead) guards. Then, with a jovial wave, he saw them off.

"They are all yours, Senju." Magatama said. "We will wait for you here."

Hours later, Mamurogawa was rocked by an explosion. Livestock, carts and wares rained down from the sky as smithereens.

"... And that's everything that happened, my lords," Magatama ended his debriefing. At his side, Toka nodded.

"Good job!" Hashirama commended with a smile. At his side, Madara palmed his face. Hikaku looked like he had eaten something foul.

"You are dismissed," Madara ordered with a frown, turning around on the tree stump.

Five of the Uchiha and three of the Senju scattered, but Toka and Magatama remained.

"We need to decide on a leader," Tobirama stated in the silence that followed. "For this village to work we will need a clear chain of command."

"Do we?" Hashirama asked, cautious for once.

"We do," Tobirama affirmed. "Noble or not, we are both mercenary shinobi clans. The Uchiha have their vassals and allies, we have our own clients and allies. We both derive significant if not all our income from our military engagements. Without a unified leadership that can consolidate all of those obligations and contracts, form a cohesive plan to navigate the political landscape, it is inevitable for us to end up fighting on opposite sides."

"No, I get that part," Hashirama replied in an annoyed tone. "But why can't we rule together? Have our people review the missions side by side, and then come to a decision by consensus?"

"Tobirama is right," Madara spoke, eyes narrowing on the white-haired man from the corner of his eyes. Tobirama returned his side-glance in full. "We are shinobi. It is not our way to decide things 'by committee'. Both of our clans have evolved to be led by a single, strong head. It has served us well up to now, we should not deviate from that."

No one could really argue with that. But, that of course opened them up to a new problem.

Who will lead us? Itama wondered, eyes flitting from his oldest brother to Madara.

Another silence ensued.

"Madara should be the leader," Hikaku argued. "This village is on Uchiha land and he in turn is the lord of the lands."

"And what, make us your lowly vassals?" Tobirama objected with fervor. "No, Anija should be the leader. He is the strongest, he led our clan to victory in our feud, and his efforts forced us together."

"Who knows who would have won, had we continued," Hikaku replied snidely.

"With Izuna killed and you captured, what chance would you have?" Tobirama returned.

"Tobirama!" Hashirama warned.

Itama snuck a glance at Madara following that statement, looking for a reaction. But the man's face was like a block of ice.

"... We could have a vote," Magatama suggested.

"But our numbers are different? We have more non-combatants in our clan," Toka countered. The Uchiha outsourced labor the Senju handled internally to serfs formally outside the clan. "Would it be fair?"

"We'd need a way to normalize the votes, to ensure our clans were equal." Magatama mused.

"Yet, not everyone is equal," Hikaku responded. "The opinions of the weak are inconsequential to that of the strong."

The discussion devolved then into a debate about voting power, strength levels and rankings. Non-combatants were helpless in direct combat, but they were obviously required for the functioning of their clans.

Somewhere in the discussion Tobirama had turned to Itama and asked him to take notes, making him the secretary of their meeting. "You're the youngest." Itama had rolled his eyes but acquiesced nonetheless.

"There is still one problem," Hashirama finally spoke up, after having kept quiet for most of the discussion. "It is very likely that all the Senju will vote for me, and that all the Uchiha vote for Madara. If that happens, then what? Will you agree to a co-rulership then?"

"That's not guaranteed," Itama spoke up, drawing everyone's attention. "People could also abstain, resulting in an uneven vote."

"Abstain?" Magatama asked, as if it had not occurred to him. He saw the others also tilt their heads in confusion.

"Anija and Lord Madara are both very strong and proven leaders. There needs to be an option for those who would prefer their own leader but who would be accepting of the other," Itama pointed out. "Especially if we introduce a constitution for Konohagakure, which will determine the laws which will bind the new leader in their conduct and enshrine the rights of the losing clan."

Itama had spent countless hours reading dry legal treatises through the eyes of Daeron, first in Old Town, and now more recently in King's Landing under the tutelage of Grand Maester Mellos.

Their plan had been for Daeron to serve as Master of Laws once Aegon took power, while Aemond would study at their grandfather's side as the Hand. The Master of Laws was arguably the second most influential member of the small council, given that Lord Lyonel Strong had been promoted to hand from that very position.

Perhaps all those nights could come to be of use.

"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself Itama?" Hashirama rebuked.

"Brother," Itama pushed back. "We have spent most of our lives in war against each other. It is madness to ask one clan to accept the other clan's leader as their own, without also providing a formalization of the role itself."

"I agree with Itama," Toka said, giving him a smile. "On both accounts. We should offer the option to abstain, as well as come up with a constitution." The others, even the Uchiha, nodded as well.

"Besides," Itama continued, clearing his throat. "It will make it easier to integrate the others."

"What others?" Hikaku asked, glowering. Clearly the idea of even more outsiders arriving on their lands did not sit well with him.

"Konoha is the first village of its kind," Itama replied. "What if other shinobi families and clans want to join it?"

The Aegonfort had started out as a military installation, a beachhead at the mouth of the Blackwater Rush on which the Conqueror and his sisters had landed their forces onto.

Some had argued that Aegon should make Oldtown his capital, as it held the Citadel and the Starry Sept – the headquarters for two institutions that united much or all of the continent. Harrenhal could have worked as well, given its central location: equidistant to Winterfell and Sunspear. Not to mention its humongous size built on the backs of two generations of Riverlander thralldom; it would have made their sacrifice mean something.

Instead the Aegonfort, besides its proximity by ship to Dragonstone, had swelled and swelled as people sought the protection of the army stationed there and became their seat by default that way. The fishermen who brought the army food, the smiths who maintained the army's armaments, and the camp followers who kept the soldiers company all claimed their own sections of the city that had sprung up.

Hashirama laughed, eager to clear the tension. "Now you're really getting ahead of yourself!"

The seven of them worked tirelessly to come up with a proposal, declining to include others. As this concerned the village as whole, and not the internal matters of their respective clans, they felt no need to complicate the process with the inclusion of obstinate elders until later.

Three days later they informed their clans about the vote that was to take place.

In terms of a constitution, Itama had plenty of ideas but knew that they had to keep it to something very simple. Even then he got pushback, Hashirama afraid that making too big a deal out of things only months into the village's creation would jinx it somehow.

"You wanted a village where children could grow up safely, right? Did your vision only include children with the surnames Senju and Uchiha?"

Those words made both Hashirama and Madara pensieve.

They finally agreed on the following points:

The clans are sovereign; all the leader's legitimacy flowed from the will of the clans.

The leader may not intervene into the internal affairs of the clans. This included clan traditions and customs, as well as the distribution of clan secret techniques.

Whichever leader was chosen would need to abdicate their leadership to their second-in-command. The village leader being a clan leader created a conflict-of-interest.

The leader ruled for life, or until abdication. If a majority of both clans deemed the leader inappropriate they could call for a vote to vote the leader out.

The ultimate goal of the leader was to preserve the peace between the two clans, preserve their collective security and ensure they both thrived. If any outside obligation or alliance threatened the continuation of that peace, it would need to be terminated.

The leader would have access to the resources of both clans in so far as it helped him fulfill the aims of point 5.

The leader could express a preference for a successor, but point 1 remained.

The seven points were circulated to the elders. They grudgingly approved them, griping at not having been consulted, but unable to really find fault with them.

Itama felt quite satisfied with himself. The only point he could think to add was a provision about how a clan could secede from the village. But he and everyone else knew that if things were to get that bad, no piece of paper could prevent the bloodshed that would follow.

The time for the vote had come, to pick the leader of their village.

Three ballot boxes had been created, their walls made out of cold steel - an inorganic material that the Senju clan could not subtly manipulate.

Similarly, both clans had prepared voting tokens. The Uchiha had prepared twelve-hundred iron balls, painted red and white to resemble their emblem, each ball representing a vote. The Senju had in turn prepared twelve-hundred wooden tokens, their clan vajra carved into each.

Each clan had distributed the tokens among its respective members, in accordance with how they wished their voting power to be distributed. Twelve-hundred was a convenient number that gave them the most flexibility without going too overboard.

The first box represented a vote for Madara, the second a vote for No Preference, and the third a vote for Hashirama.

The line of people formed, Senju and Uchiha lining up in an interleaving pattern. The former stood in their finest cream and gray-colored hakama with green highlights, the latter in their dark-colored garments with the customary high collars. The atmosphere was tense, no one daring or in the mood to break the silence with conversation.

Itama stood at the front. His hand went to the pouch at his hip, groping and feeling the fifty two tokens he had been allocated poking through the fabric. Something about them reassured him, somehow.

The line before him thinned, the people entering the tarped up voting booth containing the ballot box one-by-one. The tarp was made up of hide belonging to a chakra beast, which prevented chakra from leaking through. It would be against the spirit of the vote if the Uchiha could see the outline of each voter with their doujutsu. Then they would exit on the other side, breaking off to join their clansmen on either the left or the right.

The Uchiha in front of him pushed away the cloth and entered the booth. Soon it would be his turn to vote.

What if everyone just votes for their own anyway? he wondered, despite what he had said days before. If Madara and Hashirama both got twelve-hundred votes each they would need to come up with something else. Either a duopoly, as Hashirama had suggested, or a personal duel between the two to finally determine who was the strongest.

Likely the latter, as Madara had adamantly refused to entertain the former. It would be much better if the clans could agree on one leader, without the two coming to blows.

If it came down to a fight, maybe Hashirama would throw the fight, handing the mantle of leadership on a platter to Madara?

For a second, he allowed himself to consider what leadership under Madara would look like. Madara, like Hashirama, was a monstrously strong shinobi. Like Hashirama he had ably led his clan following the death of his father.

Itama had been on the receiving end of his military tactics, and they revealed a cunning mind who never shied away from any underhandedness. He was similar to Tobirama in that regard, except Tobirama was more cautious. Madara was quick to act, and to bare down with overwhelming power.

Hashirama was different. He preferred to improvise and was never short of risky, unorthodox ideas - many of them only possible due to his own once-in-a-generation bloodline. Or, in fact, the convenient access to an Uzumaki sealmaster

Madara would be a tyrant. A supremely competent tyrant, for sure, but a tyrant nonetheless, who would brook no resistance.

Hashirama was a tyrant, in his own way. After all, no one had wanted to risk their necks taking the Uchiha prisoners – it was he who had rebuked, bullied and punished them into doing it. But, at the very least, he knew how to turn on the charm offensive when necessary.

That was also why Hashirama would be the better leader of the village - he had shown that he could care for the Senju and Uchiha equally. That he did value their lives equally. Furthermore, his ascension would promote Tobirama to clan head, who in turn would ensure the needs of their clan were met within the framework.

If Madara took power, could they trust Hashirama not to compromise the needs of their clan to placate Madara?

Itama dropped the tokens into the Hashirama box and stepped out, joining his clansmen and taking up a stance next to Tatsuyoshi. His clansman greeted him with a nod.

Time went by, people leaving the booth at what felt like a sluggish pace. The last of the voters were the widows of both clans, whom Itama knew were allocated a meager two or three tokens each. Unfortunately, they were far from few, in each clan.

When the last widow had emerged, it took a second for it to register that there was none left.

Toka stepped forward, walking up and ripping away the tarp.

Madara and Hashirama took up their own positions, in front of their respective clans.

The crowds began to move closer, eager to get a better look, before the leaders held them back with gestures of their hands.

"We'll start with Madara!" Toka announced, turning to the first metal box. With little effort, she picked it up and moved it to the side. Then, she fiddled with a latch, and a mass of iron balls streamed out onto the flat, cleared ground.

With trepidation, Itama caught a flash of red as over a hundred pairs of Sharingans whirled into existence.

Magatama came and together they lifted the box to shake out every last token.

It took a moment for the sound of murmurs to make it over to them, the Uchiha looking more and more animated.

"I count six-hundred and seventy-four votes for Lord Uchiha Madara!" Magatama said, three tomoed Sharingan having swept over each and every ball in seconds. There were no wooden tokens to be found.

What? Itama, and the Senju, collectively reeled. Six-hundred seventy-four votes out of one-thousand two-hundred?

The Senju whispered furiously around him, but Itama had only eyes for Madara. The man stood as still as a statue.

Masaki walked up to Toka with a large scale in hand, the one he had not lost to the Inuzuka. They had to verify the vote themselves, of course, but Itama had a sneaking suspicion that it would not be necessary.

A bag was attached to the scale, and with the stomp of his foot, the earth raised itself, the balls all flying neatly through the air and into it.

Toka began to place a series of weights on the other side of the scale, compensating for the weight of the pouch. Since there was only one type of voting token – iron balls, all uniform in size thanks to the skills of Uchiha smithing, it was straightforward to estimate the number of iron balls.

"We confirm, six-hundred and seventy-four votes!" Toka stated, voice raised.

They placed that bag aside, turning to the next box. The same process was repeated, and a swarm of iron balls poured out.

"Four-hundred and thirty votes for No Preference!"

Itama narrowed his eyes. That means…

When Hashirama's box was tipped over, all the wooden tokens poured out. Along with ninety-six red and white iron balls.

"Thirteen-hundred and ninety-six votes for General Senju Hashirama. All votes have been accounted for!" Toka announced.

"That means," Magatama continued where she stopped. "General Senju Hashirama will be the leader of this village!"

A pause. Then Magatama bowed his head in the direction of Hashirama. The Senju all followed suit.

Finally, the Uchiha dipped their heads as well, many of them eyeing each other with suspicion.

"Congratulations," Madara bit out, fists shaking.

Only little over half of his clan were solidly behind him, and a twelfth of them even preferred Hashirama outright. On top of that, not even a single Senju voted for him.

Not only was it a humiliating indictment of his leadership and the faith his own clan had in him, but it massively shifted the power balance between the two of them.

Itama had hoped for some advantage for his brother, something that would tilt the balance between them. This was beyond their wildest dreams.

As Madara stormed off, cheers and applause broke out among the villagers.

"Thank you!" Hashirama yelled over the din, a sad glint in his eye at his friend's departure. But the presence of the remaining Uchiha encouraged him. "Thank you all for putting your trust in me! I promise to not let you down! Together, not as Senju and Uchiha but as members of this village, a future of prosperity awaits us!"

Itama's ears hurt from the roaring of his people, wincing as Tatsuyoshi unexpectedly dunked him on the back.

The Uchiha clapped, some politely, some perfunctory, and others with a tiny bit of cheer.

"Peace and prosperity!" Hashirama yelled, approaching the Uchiha and shaking the hand of each and every one of them.

"He did it, Itama!" Tatsuyoshi yelled, as if he himself had not been part of the proceedings.

"Yes he did," Itama replied, with a grin.