Boredom was a terrible poison.
This had been Fugaku's greatest feeling these past few days. He had lost all sense of time.
Had a day passed? A year? Ten years? He could not tell.
It was like walking in total darkness, constantly fearing that a manhole cover had vanished beneath him, leaving no sense of security. Fugaku clung to memories of the Village's mundane moments to stave off panic and loneliness, but even that was fleeting.
"The Uchiha Clan must be searching for me now... Maybe they've discovered the Hidden Mist Village's actions... Maybe negotiations are underway... Maybe the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist are already dead..."
He shivered at the thought.
"Maybe the Third Great Ninja War has already begun, and perhaps Konoha has been destroyed!"
Then he would truly be a sinner.
A heavy sigh escaped him, and his desire to return grew even stronger.
"If I go back now, maybe I can prevent this pointless war."
From afar, Fugaku's glare fixed on the sleeping Uchiha Madara. His expression suggested he wanted to tear the old man in half, just as easily as tearing apart a Sand Ninja.
He even imagined transmigrating into the past to eliminate Madara's father at age seven, preventing all this chaos before it began.
Noticing Fugaku's stare, the Uzumaki face in the corner walked over and settled beside him on the bed.
"What are you doing?!"
"Monitoring, of course. Lord Madara ordered me to watch you."
"You don't need to be this close! Your mouth is practically on my face!"
"Oh." The Uzumaki face shuffled back. "You're strange. I'm asexual and won't do anything to you. What's there to fear?"
Fugaku curled his lip but refrained from complaining. He had always disliked talking to this odd creature, but extreme boredom made conversation with anyone—even this—preferable to silence.
The Uzumaki face glanced at his arm. "You're recovering well. Hashirama cells have integrated nicely into your body."
"Hashirama cells?"
"Yes, the white matter on your body. It accelerates healing."
Fugaku felt like he'd heard the impossible. "But the First Hokage died years ago. Where did you get his cells?"
"They were cultivated using the Gedo Statue," the Uzumaki face said matter-of-factly.
Fugaku's gaze followed its line of sight. Behind Madara's chair loomed a massive shadow, faintly revealing what seemed like a huge, gnarled tree with exposed roots and protruding spikes. Figures hung above the spikes.
Were those… corpses?
Noticing his confusion, the Uzumaki face chuckled. "Artificial bodies, created with Hashirama cells. They are inferior, without emotion, but were key to restoring your arm and body."
Fugaku squinted. "What's with that smug look?"
"Nothing, just telling you that now, you're somewhat like me. Half of Hashirama's artificial body now resides in you."
"We're completely different! I'm human, not artificial!"
The Uzumaki face laughed. "If you're human, why don't you need to eat or poop, just like me?"
"Could you please not say those two together?"
"Don't worry about the details. Admit it—we're now the same kind of creature."
"Who's the same creature as you?! Hey! Where are you putting your hand?!"
The Uzumaki face pulled back, muttering, "The texture isn't the same as mine. Oh right, as a creature like me, may I ask you something?"
Fugaku ignored it, staring at his right arm. Severed by the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, it had been reconstructed with Hashirama cells. He could clearly feel his chakra had increased significantly.
"Hey! Hey!" The Uzumaki face shouted, dissatisfied with being ignored. "Since we brought it up, tell me—what did it feel like to poop as a former human? We're the same now, no need to be shy."
Fugaku sighed. "You really want to know?"
"Of course!"
Fugaku thought a moment. "It feels… amazing. Like life has reached its peak."
The Uzumaki face blinked, dumbfounded and envious.
At that moment, another white creature poked its head from the wall.
"Fugaku, I have information about Uchiha Yama, the one you often speak of."
"My father?" Fugaku leapt from the bed, startled.
"Yes, and his situation seems dire," White Zetsu said, emerging fully, words spilling in urgency.
"What happened to my father?"
"He's fighting Konohas Lightning Flash."
"With whom?"
"Konohas Lightning Flash. You call him Hayashi."
"Impossible! Why would they fight?"
White Zetsu explained. "Lightning Flash sought to seize Uchiha Yama's Sharingan. He refused, so they clashed."
Fugaku's eyes widened. "Has Father awakened the Mangekyo Sharingan? Otherwise, Hayashi would have no reason to go after him."
There was no time to think further. He leapt from the bed, the wooden frame splitting under his weight.
Though unsure of Hayashi's power, he knew his father was old and had given him only one eye—how could he possibly be a match for Hayashi?
"I must stop them!"
Fugaku struck the wall to leave, but the reconstructed arm wasn't yet strong enough. A sharp pain shot through him as the Hashirama-cell connection cracked.
"It hurts!"
Clutching his arm, he noticed only minor cracks on the wall. He was far from recovered and couldn't break through.
The Uzumaki face leapt behind him.
"Your current body can't break rock."
"But I must stop them!"
"Then wear my body," it said, spreading like a blooming flower and wrapping around him.
"Aren't you Madara's subordinate? Is this safe?"
Fugaku had concluded long ago that Madara was a paranoid lunatic, unlikely to let him leave freely.
The Uzumaki face asked only, "Are you going to save your father?"
Its logic was simple. Regardless of Madara's plans, Fugaku had to break the wall.
"Thank you," he said, activating his Three-Tomoe Sharingan.
"Consider it payment for telling me how good pooping feels," the Uzumaki face quipped.
Fugaku rubbed his fist, adopting a striking stance. A root tendril connecting the Uzumaki face to the Gedo Statue pulsed like a heartbeat, transmitting a surge of power.
He struck again. The cracks spread explosively.
Boom!
The wall shattered.
White Zetsu praised, "Using the Gedo Statue's power through the roots? Impressive."
Before White Zetsu could finish, the Uzumaki face dispersed, revealing Fugaku's astonished face.
"Very strong," he thought.
"Are you leaving?" Madara's voice came from his chair.
Fugaku grabbed the root tendril behind the Uzumaki face and pulled, detaching it.
"I am grateful for saving my life, but I must go. I have to."
Madara did not stop him. "You are hasty. Too early to offer thanks."
"I won't be coming back. I've thanked you and won't tell anyone you're alive. Goodbye." Fugaku stepped out.
"You will return," Madara said with certainty. "When you do, I will accept your true gratitude."
He closed his eyes.
Fugaku spoke to the White Zetsu embedded in the wall. "Where are my father and Hayashi? Take me to them."
"The White Zetsu with you is my clone. We communicate telepathically within a range. Other clones are exchanging information underground."
Before White Zetsu finished, the Uzumaki face spoke. "I'll guide you."
A vine-like appendage swayed from Fugaku's neck.
"Then I'll follow you," he said.
Jumping out of the underground base, he found a massive corridor lined with clothes, scrolls, and weapons.
"Is this… Uchiha memorabilia?" he murmured.
"No wonder Father's War Fan was never used—it was a knockoff."
Sighing, he pulled a robe from the wall. "I won't take these. I won't feel indebted to anyone."
He wanted no further ties to Madara.
Outside, standing on a massive bone fossil, he asked, "What about the two of them now?"
The Uzumaki face replied, "Your father is in danger. Something about the young clan head was mentioned, but I don't fully understand."
"Young clan head?" Fugaku snorted, rushing into the forest.
"So Hayashi wants Father's eyes and to become Uchiha Clan Head? What a plan."
He asked again, "How's Konoha now?"
"They're fighting in a secluded area. Konoha likely doesn't know."
"How did they start fighting? Father is in the Village, Hayashi should be at the Daimyo's residence."
"I don't know. Only that Father was taken by Anbu, and Lightning Flash was waiting."
"Anbu? Damn it!" Fugaku clenched his fist.
"If the Third Hokage is involved, they will all die!"
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