Inside the Konoha Hokage Residence.
Namikaze Minato was currently processing official paperwork. The office was quiet, and he was alone, save for the occasional rhythmic rustle of pages turning.
However, as he worked, Minato would involuntarily find himself daydreaming, a stray smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes, fixed on the documents, were filled with a sudden tenderness and doting warmth.
"Ah!" Minato suddenly snapped back to reality, shaking his head quickly. He muttered to himself, "I am the Hokage; I am responsible for the entire village. I can't be this absent-minded..."
He redoubled his focus and dove back into the stacks of work, appearing once more as the epitome of a serious and responsible leader. However, every so often, he would glance up at the clock on the wall as if waiting for a specific moment.
When the hands finally struck six o'clock in the evening, Minato didn't wait a second longer. He snapped his files shut and whispered guiltily, "It's... it's officially after hours now. This shouldn't be considered... a dereliction of duty, right?"
In the past, Minato, or rather, any of the previous Hokage, would never have clocked out exactly on time. Most chose to work overtime voluntarily to handle the village's vital affairs. It could be said that while the position of Hokage represented the highest honor in Konoha, the burden on one's shoulders was equally immense. Becoming the Hokage meant sacrificing the "small family" for the sake of the "great family."
Hiruzen was like this, which was why Konohamaru always felt his grandfather had no time for him. Naruto would later be the same, frequently absent from home. Minato had been no different until recently; but with his wife, Kushina, due to give birth any day now, he truly couldn't sit still.
Just as Minato convinced himself and prepared to use the Flying Raijin Technique to teleport directly home, a knock sounded at the door.
Minato sighed helplessly. He couldn't bring himself to pretend he wasn't there; he was far too honest a fellow for that. He pursed his lips and called out, "Come in."
The door creaked open, and Hiruzen walked in with a beaming smile. He took one look at Minato and saw right through him. He knew the young man was ready to bolt. Having been the Hokage himself, the old veteran recognized that "end of shift" look immediately.
"Hahaha! So, even our Minato has days where he can't wait to get off work?" Hiruzen teased lightheartedly.
Minato scratched his head awkwardly, looking exactly like a student caught by his homeroom teacher while trying to cut class. It was agonizing.
"I was just..." Minato tried to explain, but he didn't quite know how to phrase it.
Fortunately, Hiruzen was very understanding. He waved a hand with a smile. "I'm only joking, don't take it to heart. I came by precisely because I figured you were about to leave, so I wanted to catch you quickly."
"Lord Third, please give me your instructions," Minato replied, his expression turning serious.
He assumed Hiruzen had some urgent business, but the older man simply sat on the sofa and said, "Don't be so formal. It's about Kushina. Even though there's a predicted due date, you can't strictly trust those things when it comes to childbirth. These next couple of days, she could go into labor at any moment. You must stay vigilant..."
"Yes, I was thinking the same thing," Minato said, nodding with a smile.
"That's good. But you are the Hokage, and your responsibilities are heavy. There will inevitably be times when you can't be home. My Biwako suggested that Kushina move to that place first. She and Koharu will move in as well to look after her. That way, if anything happens unexpectedly, we won't waste any time; everything will be ready to go," Hiruzen said in a slow, steady tone.
By "that place," he meant the secret facility Konoha had built specifically for Kushina's delivery. Make no mistake: this wasn't special treatment just because she was the Hokage's wife. It was because she was a Jinchuriki, and Konoha could not afford to be anything less than meticulous.
The location was highly classified, known only to a select few, and the date of delivery was a top-tier secret. Regardless, neither Hiruzen nor Minato felt a true sense of impending crisis yet. They didn't think anything would actually go wrong; their only concern was the physical process of the birth itself.
Considering Kushina was of the Uzumaki clan, her life force and physical constitution were absurdly strong. To her, giving birth wasn't expected to be a monumental struggle.
A normal Jinchuriki dies immediately upon the extraction of a Tailed Beast, like Gaara, for instance. But Kushina's life force was so immense that even after the Nine-Tails was forcibly ripped from her, she would still be able to live for a long time, engage in combat, and even manifest the Adamantine Sealing Chains to suppress the beast during her final moments.
Given that she would be giving birth and losing the Nine-Tails simultaneously, the sheer resilience of her life force was staggering. As the mother of the Child of Prophecy, Uzumaki Naruto would successfully inherit this indomitable vitality.
Minato nodded at Hiruzen's suggestion. "Alright. I'll head back and take Kushina there now."
He felt Hiruzen was right. He was swamped with work, and the best he could manage was leaving on time; skipping work entirely was impossible. He wasn't just a husband and a soon-to-be father; he was the Hokage of Konoha. During the day, he often worried about Kushina being home alone if labor started suddenly. Since Jiraiya-sensei had left again two months ago, there was no one else at home to look after her.
This inevitably affected his work performance, causing him to be distracted. Knowing Kushina would be under the care of Biwako and Koharu at the secret location, two women with extensive experience, gave Minato a great deal of peace of mind.
It was good for him, and even better for Kushina. There was no reason to refuse.
"Good. That's all I wanted to say. Hahaha! I won't keep you from getting home. Is there any work left unfinished? I'll handle it for you," Hiruzen offered warmly.
Minato scratched his head sheepishly. "This... how could I impose on you like that?"
"Consider it a senior looking out for his junior. Of course, if you're unwilling, I'll just be on my way," Hiruzen teased again.
Minato was only being polite; he certainly wasn't unwilling. He immediately changed his tune. "Then I shall trouble you, Lord Third!"
"Hahaha, go on then," Hiruzen waved him off.
Minato smiled, and with a flash of the Flying Raijin, he vanished from the office and appeared instantly at home.
Hiruzen sat slowly at the desk, muttering with a touch of nostalgia, "I really can't stay idle, can I? Heh... still, it's good to be young."
Minato was a Hokage he had personally groomed. A few months back, Hiruzen had frequently helped him with official duties. Even after Minato was ready to shoulder the responsibility alone, Hiruzen remained part of the advisory council. He knew exactly what needed to be done, and with his years of experience as Hokage, he fell back into the rhythm without a hint of rust, quickly tackling the pile of work Minato had left behind.
…
Meanwhile, in the Uchiha District.
The Uchiha grounds occupied a massive area within Konoha. After all, they were one of the two premier clans of the shinobi world, alongside the Senju. The Uchiha were a flourishing clan; their internal numbers were sufficient to fully staff the village's massive Police Force with plenty to spare. Members like Itachi Uchiha and Shisui Uchiha would later join the Anbu, and they were not isolated cases. One could only imagine how many ninja the clan possessed.
Beyond the ninja, there were even more ordinary clansmen. Even in the Uchiha clan, it was impossible for every single member to become a shinobi. In these true elite clans, members developed in all walks of life; much like the Hyuga clan, many clansmen were involved in trade and business. Thus, while the Uchiha district was vast, it was also densely populated.
However, on the outskirts of the district, there was a small courtyard that had been vacant for a long time. It was dilapidated and devoid of any signs of life.
Obito was currently standing in that courtyard.
This was his home.
Back when he was a ninja of Konoha, he lived here. The reason for its remote location was that Obito had been considered somewhat of a "disgrace" within the clan. In a clan teeming with geniuses, his status as a "dead-last" was naturally looked down upon, hence the isolated home.
At that time, he lived with his grandmother. His parents had died in the war, and later, his grandmother passed away of old age, leaving Obito to live a lonely, solitary existence. It wasn't until he joined Team Minato that he finally found a sense of "belonging" again.
Logically, since Obito was presumed "killed in action" and his grandmother was gone, the house should have been reclaimed by the clan. However, as Obito was a war hero of Konoha with a sterling reputation, the clan found it distasteful to do so. Furthermore, a remote little courtyard wasn't worth the trouble of worrying about.
And so, the house remained as it was. As Obito looked at the surroundings and the furniture within the rooms, a deep sense of familiarity washed over him. Nothing had changed.
He stood in the yard beneath the apple tree. In his memory, his grandmother would always sit under this tree in the shade, knitting him a sweater and teaching him with a gentle voice.
"Grandma, do I look more like Dad or Mom?"
"Well... a bit of both, I suppose?"
"Really?"
"Yes. Obito, you must grow up to be a gentle, kind person who helps everyone."
"Don't worry, Grandma! Today I helped the lady at the grocery store unload her goods. 'One good deed a day,' that's my ninja way."
"Ho ho, our Obito truly is a good boy."
Scene after scene of his memories flashed through his mind. Looking at the tree laden with bright red apples, Obito found himself unable to tear away from the nostalgia for a long time. Beneath his mask, tears tracked down his face.
"There's no going back, Grandma..." Obito whispered softly. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his gaze had turned cold and ruthless.
He reached out, plucked an apple from a branch, lifted a corner of his mask, and took three bites.
The taste was exactly as he remembered, but for some reason, it was filled with nothing but bitterness.
When a light breeze blew through the courtyard, the figure was gone.
Only an apple with a single bite taken out of it lay abandoned on the ground, stained by the filth of the mud, looking utterly pathetic.