"Look deeper."
Kai's voice cut clean through the clearing.
"You're only thinking about the surface. You're looking at the outcome and assuming it's a failure."
He glanced at the two brothers, calm and precise.
"But if you step back and really consider what Konoha gained after the first Five Kage Summit… you'll realize something else entirely."
He raised his hand and started counting each point, one by one.
"First: Konoha received massive development capital. Selling off seven tailed beasts brought in both land and funding."
"No more relying on the Fire Daimyō for budget scraps."
"Second: Konoha kept the Nine-Tails—the strongest tailed beast—and sealed it using the Uzumaki clan's advanced sealing techniques. The result? A stable jinchūriki, unlikely to lose control unless manipulated externally."
"Third: Only Konoha has the Sharingan. It's a natural suppressor of tailed beasts. In the right conditions, it could even be used to control beasts from other villages."
"Fourth—and this is the kicker—by handing out unstable, poorly-sealed tailed beasts to other villages, you basically planted bombs in every one of them. Every time one of those jinchūriki loses control, that village damages itself."
"In other words, every beast rampage outside of Konoha indirectly strengthens Konoha."
"..."
"...Wait—what?"
Hashirama stared blankly. "You're saying… giving the tailed beasts away made Konoha stronger?"
Tobirama didn't answer immediately. His eyes shifted sideways, expression unreadable.
Kai smiled slightly. "Your brother probably figured that out years ago. He just didn't tell you."
Hashirama turned toward him in disbelief. "Tobirama? You knew?!"
A pause.
Then Tobirama exhaled, quiet and tired.
"...Yes."
He didn't sound proud. Just resigned.
"I didn't argue against your plan because I saw the advantages. The funding. The political leverage. And the damage it could cause—just not to us."
"And I also knew that most of the other villages lacked the proper sealing techniques. So even if they got a beast, it wouldn't matter for a while."
"In fact," he added, "during the entire First Great Ninja War, none of them managed to properly weaponize their tailed beasts."
Hashirama looked down at his hands like they belonged to someone else.
"...Does that mean I… tricked them?"
He looked up, almost dazed.
"I made them believe I was giving them power to promote peace… but I was just setting them up for collapse?"
Tobirama's tone hardened.
"Brother. Don't be naive."
He raised his finger—not accusing, just blunt.
"You think the other Kage didn't see through it? You think they actually believed your whole speech about unity and harmony?"
"They took the beasts because they thought they could profit. They believed they could control the power—same as we did."
"You'd already bowed your head, handed them power, and offered them peace. What were they supposed to do? Reject it and start a war with the strongest man alive?"
"No. They smiled, accepted it, and went home with time bombs in their hands."
Hashirama opened his mouth, then slowly shut it.
He looked like someone who'd just realized he was the last one in the room to get the joke.
"...But if Konoha had all those advantages," he asked weakly, "then why did so many ninja wars still break out after that?"
Now that was the right question.
Kai folded his arms.
"Good. You're finally asking the real stuff."
He let out a short sigh.
"You had the perfect setup. Rich resources. The Nine-Tails. A powerful military. Other villages constantly sabotaging themselves. It should've been foolproof."
"But then—"
—You let the Senju clan die off through endless battlefield sacrifice.—You stood by as the Uzumaki clan—your best sealing allies—was wiped out.—You pushed the Uchiha clan to the edge of the village, isolated them, fed their resentment, and eventually oversaw their extermination.—You let the Fourth Hokage die and treated his orphaned son—your Nine-Tails jinchūriki—like trash.
"One mistake? Fine. But Konoha didn't just mess up once. You chose every wrong option like it was a badge of honor."
"You had four aces and still folded."
Kai shook his head.
"I can't even be mad. It's… kind of impressive."
Tobirama grimaced. Even he hadn't known the full scope of what came after his death.
"...That bad?"
Kai didn't answer. The silence spoke for itself.
Hashirama groaned, rubbing his temple.
"Unbelievable..."
"Still," Kai said, "it's not all your fault. The system itself was flawed from the beginning."
"Flawed?" Hashirama echoed.
"The tailed beast system wasn't a bad idea," Kai admitted. "But it had one fatal flaw."
He turned to Tobirama.
"You probably already know. What's the worst part of giving away tailed beasts?"
Tobirama answered immediately.
"The beasts themselves. Their strength. That's the flaw."
Kai nodded.
"Right. From an external threat perspective, it's manageable. Other nations can't easily steal or tame a tailed beast. They'd need the perfect host, and that's not something you can produce on command."
"But the real danger isn't external."
He looked at Hashirama.
"It's internal. The tailed beasts themselves."
"Internal rebellion," Tobirama said. "Tailed Beast Riots."
"Exactly."
Kai motioned toward the scorched earth left behind by Kinkaku's earlier failed Tailed Beast Ball.
"That? That's the problem."
"You're not scared of the claws or size. The real threat is that one beast can launch a mountain-destroying blast from kilometers away and erase an entire village."
"Stealth. Range. Annihilation."
"They're not weapons. They're walking disasters."
Hashirama frowned. "But… aren't they just giant chakra beasts?"
"Some are. Some aren't. But all of them share one thing—the Tailed Beast Ball."
Kai pointed again at the crater.
"That one explosion? If it had landed in Konoha?"
"Gone. The entire village, gone in one strike."
Even Tobirama looked shaken.
"...Which is why," Kai continued, "you were smart to use Uzumaki seals. You needed absolute control. Especially over the Nine-Tails."
Hashirama nodded slowly.
"I remember… when I fought Madara, the Nine-Tails wasn't the scariest part."
"It was the range. The destruction. He didn't need to win a fight. He just needed one good shot."
"So, in theory," Hashirama said, "if everyone has a tailed beast, then it balances out. Like mutual deterrence."
Kai gave a tired sigh.
"And that's exactly what you created. A chakra-based version of mutually assured destruction."
"But that's not peace. That's just waiting."
"A ticking clock until the next disaster."
Hashirama turned to Tobirama.
"Then… why didn't you stop me?"
Tobirama didn't blink.
"We had the Uzumaki. We had the Sharingan. We had the tools to control our beast. The others didn't."
He looked away.
"And that's why I agreed to divide the beasts."
Hashirama narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
Tobirama said it flatly.
"Because every time one of those beasts loses control, the village it's in weakens."
"And the weaker they get…"
"...The safer Konoha becomes."
Hashirama stared at him.
"...Tobirama, why are you like this?"
Tobirama: "..."
He turned his head slowly, face blank.
Kai started laughing.
Hashirama threw up his hands in defeat.
"Fine! Yes, yes, yes—it's all your fault! You're the evil mastermind, okay?! Happy?!"
Tobirama didn't respond, just mumbled under his breath.
If playing the villain protects the village, so be it.
Let his brother sulk. Let others hate him.
Tobirama would make the hard choices.
Even if that meant carrying the blame alone.