Chapter 222 – Horizontal Cuts and Vertical Cuts (Part 1)
"I want everyone in this village to live as one family. For every person here to live well."
Looking at Minato Namikaze's unwavering gaze, Kei nodded.
So this was still Minato's core belief.
Perhaps this came from Jiraiya's teachings. In fact, Minato's ideals mirrored those of his son, Naruto Uzumaki.
Both of them were essentially the continuation of Jiraiya's will—or perhaps even the will of the Great Toad Sage of Mount Myōboku.
That so-called Toad Sage had lived since the days of the Sage of Six Paths.
In some ways, it was that old toad who convinced Hagoromo and Hamura to rise up against their mother, Kaguya Ōtsutsuki.
Not that this was a bad thing—without that rebellion, the shinobi world might never have come to be.
But the idea of "mutual understanding" and "discarding hatred" was… too noble. Too detached from reality.
Back then, when there were no nations or villages—only clans—the rift between Ashura and Indra could still be framed as simple "hatred." In that era, the philosophy of "understanding one another" held value.
But now? The one-country-one-village system had long replaced clan-based rule.
And with it came disputes over borders, resources, and survival.
Take the Land of Wind: nothing but desert. No agriculture, no food. Their dream was to seize fertile land and build an agricultural economy. At the very least, they wanted self-sufficiency instead of losing money every year importing food.
Every great nation had its own shortages. The seeds of future wars had been sown the moment the Five Great Nations were formed.
And the small nations? They suffered most.
Because of geography, they became the battlegrounds of larger powers. Every shinobi war turned their soil into the frontlines, simply because they were caught in between.
In truth, the great nations had only allowed them to form "villages" in the first place to serve as buffers—shields to absorb the destruction of war.
The great powers never hesitated to trample them when convenient.
"Your vision is admirable, Minato, but let me remind you—such a dream only works inside the village," Kei said carefully.
Minato blinked. "Inside the village?"
"Yes. Hoping for universal happiness is a great dream. But even within the village, not everyone accepts it. As for other villages? Forget it."
Kei didn't press further, instead steering back: "What matters is this—let me explain how I see the current state of Konoha. I want to know how you plan to reform it."
"…Go ahead, Kei." Minato nodded, curious.
He didn't overthink Kei's earlier remark—he guessed the young Uchiha must've picked it up from Jiraiya's books, and left it at that.
Still, he was interested. Kei describing the village as a "melting pot" was striking. A furnace where every element melted together into one—that was Minato's own vision.
"Do you have a clear sense of how the village is structured?" Kei asked.
"Of course," Minato replied without hesitation. "The Hokage, the Konoha council, the clan shinobi, the civilian shinobi, and the villagers. That's the structure."
It was true. Outwardly, that was how Konoha was divided. And though Minato wanted every person to have equal say, he couldn't deny the reality: not all roles were equal.
Take clans versus civilians. Clan shinobi had inherent advantages—whether from bloodline limits or from early, structured training.
There was no real equality there.
And Minato knew he couldn't change that. At best, he could only make sure they coexisted peacefully.
"True," Kei agreed. "But have you noticed—whenever people talk about someone, the first question is always 'What clan are they from?' or 'He's just a civilian shinobi,' rather than simply, 'He's a shinobi of Konoha.'"
He spread his hands. "You might think I'm nitpicking, that this is just an internal quirk. But it extends beyond the village. For example—if you were my enemy, Minato—what would you call me the moment you saw me?"
"…A Uchiha shinobi." Minato admitted reluctantly.
Exactly what Kei wanted him to say.
This wasn't unique to Konoha. It was the same across the shinobi world. Once you showed traits of a bloodline, you weren't seen as "a shinobi" anymore—you became "a shinobi of that clan."
Stereotypes hardened into permanent identity politics.
"Think about it," Kei said flatly. "Konoha isn't unique. The entire shinobi world runs on identity politics.
Civilian shinobi resent bloodline clans, thinking they're just lucky—born with power, hogging resources.
Bloodline clans look down on civilians, thinking their only purpose is to serve as cannon fodder.
Both are supposed to be 'Konoha shinobi,' yet they're divided. Both retreat into their own narrow circles, trusting only their 'own kind.'
That's identity politics."
He leaned forward. "And the clearest example? The Uchiha clan."
Kei put heavy weight on the word "clan." Then he fell silent, letting Minato connect the dots himself.
And Minato did. The realization hit him hard.
The Hyūga clan. The Uchiha clan. The Nara, Yamanaka, and Akimichi clans. All boxed into their own identities, isolated and set apart.
Even the Ino–Shika–Chō trio, as united as they were, still stood isolated as a unit against the rest.
"This…!" Minato whispered. "Is this how things really are?"
"Yes." Kei sighed. "The dream of the First Hokage has already crumbled.
Hashirama Senju created the shinobi rank system—genin, chūnin, jōnin—to erase the divide between bloodline clans and commoners.
In theory, everyone was equal under the same ranks. But in practice? That ideal is long dead.
During Hiruzen's reign, what was the most frequently preached value, Minato?"
Minato's voice was heavy, almost bitter as he answered:
"…'Equality between clan shinobi and civilian shinobi.'"
In that moment, Minato finally understood.
The Third Hokage, in order to protect his own rule, had completely overturned the First Hokage's original policies.
Minato's mind was in chaos. He couldn't bring himself to outright condemn Hiruzen Sarutobi—after all, the circumstances when Hiruzen inherited power were extremely dire.
Besides, he couldn't even be sure whether Hashirama's true intentions had been as idealistic as the legends claimed, nor whether Hiruzen's approach was actually rooted in Tobirama's teachings.
It was all a riddle.
A riddle with no definitive answer.
To be honest, even Kei didn't know for sure. But back in his previous life, during his university years, he had studied many things.
And in an age of information overload, the knowledge he was interested in had always been easy to find online.
For example—how to analyze the fragmentation of a society. That had been one of the lessons.
Now, Kei simply borrowed those frameworks, adjusted his way of thinking, and applied them to Konoha.
And disturbingly… it fit.
Perfectly.
So perfectly that it revealed truths others had never seen.
"…So this is it." Kei sighed, feigning regret.
Who knew what Hiruzen's real intentions had been?
But Kei would never waste such a perfect chance to discredit him.
"If we see the village as a furnace," Kei continued smoothly, "then this furnace is no longer like Hashirama envisioned—divided horizontally by shinobi rank: genin, chūnin, jōnin.
Instead, it's divided vertically—cut along rigid lines of political identity."
He leaned in slightly, his tone sharpening.
"And that vertical division creates a fatal flaw.
Tell me, Captain Minato—Hiruzen Sarutobi and Shimura Danzō… are they 'civilian shinobi' or 'clan shinobi'?"
"…They—"
Minato's pupils contracted. He couldn't answer. He truly didn't know how to answer.