Chapter 75: Tobirama Senju: "You Said WHAT?!"
Tobirama Senju was certain he had misheard.
What did Saru just say? That he should return as the new Izuna of the Uchiha clan?
Was there even a single shred of similarity between the Second Hokage and that rabid, low-life Uchiha dog? More importantly, how was such a thing even physically possible?
"Saru... do you have any idea what you're suggesting?" Tobirama furrowed his brow, looking at his student with genuine concern. He wondered if the pressure of the Kage seat had finally caused Hiruzen's mind to snap.
Hiruzen offered a calm, steady smile. "I know exactly what I'm doing, Master. Do you really think this is beyond your capabilities?"
He gestured toward the massive cultivation tank at the back of the lab.
Inside, the Izuna-Tobirama hybrid clone floated in its nutrient bath.
Tobirama's face darkened. Before he died as a decoy, he had two primary worries: that Konoha would fall, and that someone would find his private research logs.
That lab was his sanctuary. It was his private "brain-dump" where he kept his most controversial theories and personal vents. Even his brother, Hashirama, had to knock and wait for Tobirama to tidy up before entering.
But as a Kage dying on a battlefield, he didn't have the luxury of "deleting his history." His student had inherited the keys to the kingdom.
A good jutsu is a double-edged sword, Tobirama thought bitterly, critiquing his own Edo Tensei. I never thought I'd be summoned from the Pure Land just to be humiliated by my own research.
"Saru, are you suggesting I use a possession art? Like the Yamanaka's Mind Transfer?" Tobirama asked, his scowl deepening. If Hiruzen's plan was that simplistic, it was an insult to his intellect.
"Of course not, Master."
"An Edo Tensei body is a prison. The longer the soul stays, the more it withers," Hiruzen said, producing a weathered journal from his robes. He held it up with a look of absolute sincerity. "I have spent years studying your forbidden notes. I've read them over and over."
Tobirama's expression shifted through a kaleidoscope of emotions, but none of them matched the sheer mortification in his heart.
It was one thing for Hiruzen to learn his jutsus. It was another for him to read the "off-the-record" rants Tobirama had written to vent his stress. In the Ninja World, every legend had a few weird quirks, and Tobirama's "quirk" was an obsessive, clinical fascination with the biology of his enemies.
"You read them? All of them?" Tobirama asked, trying to sound indifferent.
"I did. Some parts I forgot, but others... well, they made a lasting impression," Hiruzen said with a twinkle in his eye.
Tobirama wanted to cover his face with his hands. He knows. He knows everything. My image as the stoic, perfect teacher is half-ruined.
He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. It didn't make his reanimated body feel better, but it settled his nerves. "Get to the point, Saru. If possession isn't the plan, then what is?"
"Take a look at this." Hiruzen handed over the scroll of Living Corpse Reincarnation.
Tobirama took it, his curiosity momentarily overriding his irritation. Forbidden arts were his version of a high-octane stimulant.
He scanned the formulas for several minutes before looking up.
"Brilliant... and absolutely vile," Tobirama critiqued. "It uses my Spirit Transformation and Soul-Binding arts as a foundation, but it adds a layer of parasitic soul-migration. It's a 'Body Snatching' jutsu. It belongs in the restricted section."
Hiruzen smirked.
Aside from Hiruzen himself, the person Orochimaru respected most in history was Tobirama Senju. If the Snake knew his masterpiece had been labeled "vile" by his idol, he'd probably be ecstatic.
"Can you master it, Master?"
"Master it? It's practically my own work with a fresh coat of paint. Of course I can."
"And can you cast it while in an Edo Tensei state?"
"Yes..."
The conversation halted as the logic finally clicked in Tobirama's head. He looked at the tank, then back at Hiruzen.
"Saru... you're trying to give me a second life."
Tobirama was genuinely staggered by the audacity of the plan. Reviving me as an Uchiha? What kind of twisted, beautiful madness is this?
He realized he had underestimated the boy he'd left behind twenty years ago. The Hiruzen he remembered was cautious and steady. This man was a visionary who played God with the same casual air most men used to order lunch.
"You're worried about the Sync-Rate, aren't you?" Hiruzen asked, taking the initiative.
"The data in your notes is clear. Your cells and Izuna's have a freakish level of compatibility. Any minor rejection issues can be adjusted after the transfer."
Tobirama's brow twitched. He really did memorize my data. He probably knows the decimal points better than I do.
"That vessel... it's flawed," Tobirama pointed out, looking for a technical excuse to say no. "The chakra nodes are blocked. It's a statue, not a shinobi."
"I accounted for that, too."
Hiruzen produced another set of scrolls and a dense cube of black threads.
"This is the work of Hiruko—a modern genius of the Leaf you haven't met. It's a secret art for Cellular Fusion that creates a hyper-compatible environment for grafting. It's built on a foundation of Lady Mito's sealing formulas."
"And these," Hiruzen held up the cube, "are the threads of the Earth Grudge Fear. They act as an organic bridge for severed chakra pathways. We use them to stitch your chakra nodes to the vessel, then purge them once the soul anchors the body. It leaves no trace."
Tobirama fell silent.
He didn't speak for a long time. He carefully examined the fusion scrolls, then channeled a spark of chakra into the black threads to test their conductivity.
His expression became more and more complex. As a scientist, he had to admit: the plan was flawless. It was feasible. It was stable.
The Third Hokage had achieved a technical breakthrough that the Second Hokage never could.
Tobirama looked at the man standing before him. Before he died, Hiruzen was a boy he had to protect—a student who depended on him.
But he opened his eyes to find a Sovereign.
Hiruzen's words carried a massive amount of weight. Konoha was thriving. He had recruited geniuses like Orochimaru and Hiruko. He had secured the blessing of Mito Uzumaki—a woman Tobirama had "fought" with (spiritually) for decades and whose respect was notoriously hard to earn.
Twenty years... Tobirama mused. In the Warring States, that was a lifetime. A boy can become a legend in twenty years.
He felt a swirl of confusion and pride. His student was inviting him back into the world, but the invitation came with a condition: You come back as an Uchiha. You come back as my subordinate.
It was a dream-like scenario—the kind of logic you only see in a fever dream.
Tobirama looked at Hiruzen. He saw the red eyes of his own reanimated form reflected in the Hokage's steady gaze.
Hiruzen didn't press him. He just waited, giving his Master the time he needed to process the reality.
Finally, Hiruzen spoke, his voice breaking the silence with a soft, genuine warmth.
"Master... it's been a long time. I missed you."
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