Grave News Indeed

As the last of the reports were delivered, Hokage Tobirama Senju, ever the stoic leader, took a moment to observe his gathered disciples. Hiruzen, Danzō, Kagami, Homura, and Koharu all gave their final updates and then left the room, heading off to execute their respective duties. The door to the Hokage's office clicked shut behind them, leaving only Tetsuma and his uncle in the room.

Tetsuma stood in the same corner, watching his uncle closely, as Tobirama's sharp gaze lingered on him, almost as if weighing something unsaid. There was a heavy silence before Tobirama spoke, his voice low and deliberate.

"Tetsuma," his uncle began, his expression uncharacteristically grim. "There's something you need to know—something that requires your full attention, and for now, it's only for your ears."

Tetsuma straightened, his sense of unease growing with each passing moment. He had sensed that the tone in the room had changed, but now, it became abundantly clear that something was amiss. He nodded respectfully, bracing himself for whatever was coming next.

Tobirama's gaze flickered momentarily to the desk before he spoke again, his voice heavier than Tetsuma had ever heard it.

"Hashirama's health is rapidly deteriorating," Tobirama said bluntly, the weight of his words sinking into the room like a stone. "His condition has worsened to the point that it is now a matter of time. The God of Shinobi may not last a year. The shortest estimate I've received is three months, the longest—six."

Tetsuma's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. His mind raced, trying to process the information. Hashirama, the First Hokage, his mentor, and the man who had been the pillar of Konoha, was now in the final stages of his life?

"What happened?" Tetsuma asked, his voice barely above a whisper, though the turmoil inside him surged. "How… how is this possible?"

Tobirama's expression darkened further. "The weight of his legacy, the constant strain of his duties, and his body's wear over the years—it has all taken its toll. He has been fighting for years to hold back the tide, to build Konoha into the shining beacon of the shinobi world. But the stress, the injuries, and the years of putting the Village first above his own health have caught up to him. Now…" He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "He cannot endure much longer."

Tetsuma felt his heart tighten in his chest, his mind spinning. Hashirama had always been larger than life, a man who seemed invincible, who had forged Konoha with his own hands and wielded power and compassion in equal measure. The thought of losing him now—when the Village still faced so many threats—was almost too much to bear.

"How much longer do we have?" Tetsuma asked, his voice steady, even as his thoughts raced.

Tobirama met his gaze, his own eyes filled with a mix of pain and resolution. "We must be prepared for the worst. If we wait too long to make moves, there may be a power vacuum. This is why I'm telling you now, Tetsuma. You need to be ready to step into a leadership role when the time comes. Konoha's future may very well rest in your hands."

Tetsuma's jaw clenched as he absorbed the weight of his uncle's words. Hashirama's death wasn't just the end of an era—it would shake the very foundation of the village. The delicate balance of power between the clans, the factions, and the growing threats from within and without would come crashing down without the steady hand of the God of Shinobi guiding them.

"Understood," Tetsuma said, his voice firm, though the unease in his chest had only grown stronger. "I'll be ready when the time comes."

Tobirama gave a single nod. "I know you will. But understand, this is not just about you, Tetsuma. There are factions within the village that will seek to take advantage of this weakness. We must ensure that Konoha remains strong, unified. If we fall into disarray, it will make us vulnerable to the very enemies we've been fighting against."

Tetsuma nodded, his mind racing with the possibilities. He had already seen the shifting tides of power in the village—the political games, the rivalries, and the ever-present threat of those who would use any opportunity to further their own agendas. With Hashirama's passing imminent, those tides would only grow stronger, and the stakes would rise.

Tetsuma's eyes hardened with resolve. "I won't let Konoha fall into chaos. I'll make sure the Village remains strong, no matter what happens."

Tobirama's lips twitched slightly, a ghost of a proud smile appearing before it quickly faded back into a neutral expression. "That's what I need to hear, Tetsuma. Remember, the balance of power in this village is delicate, and it must not be upset."

The Hokage turned his gaze toward the window, where the sun was beginning to set behind the horizon, casting a long shadow over the village. The weight of the moment settled around them both.

"Go now, Tetsuma. You have a role to play in the coming days. Make sure you're ready."

Tetsuma bowed deeply, his mind already working through strategies, possible alliances, and the many political nuances that would shape the future of the Village. There was no time to waste. With his uncle's words echoing in his mind, Tetsuma left the Hokage's office, knowing that everything was about to change. The storm was approaching, and Konoha would have to stand tall in the face of it.

As he walked down the corridor, he couldn't shake the feeling that the weight of his actions in the coming months would shape the destiny of the Village for generations to come. The path ahead was uncertain, but he would walk it with purpose. After all, the future of Konoha depended on it.