Time passed quickly, and in the blink of an eye, seven months had gone by.
During that time, Isamu and Uchiha Madara were locked in a constant tug-of-war inside the underground base. Even Black Zetsu couldn't help but complain that life had become exhausting.
But today, a clone of the White Zetsu main body brought back news from Konoha.
"Isamu! Isamu! I've got good news—your child is about to be born in a few days!"
Isamu froze for a moment, then broke into a smile.
"Yosh… that's great. The continuation of life has finally begun. When exactly is the due date?"
White Zetsu scratched its head.
"Hmm… about five or six days from now."
"Five to six days…" Isamu stood up. "That's enough time. Looks like it's time for me to go."
Madara, sitting nearby, spoke calmly.
"So, you're leaving. When will you come back?"
Isamu looked at him, his expression complicated.
"Maybe over a dozen years… or maybe never. I'm not like you. I'll stay by my child's side."
Madara fell silent.
These past seven months, despite their constant clashes over Six Paths power, he had grown used to this life—his son cooking for him every day, the strange but steady rhythm of their interactions.
It felt… like home.
He sighed.
"If you're leaving, then take this. Consider it a gift for your child. Zetsu, bring it."
A White Zetsu stepped forward with a scroll and a set of clothes bearing the Uchiha crest.
Madara spoke slowly.
"This scroll contains the strongest Uchiha techniques. And these clothes… were passed down to me by your grandfather, Uchiha Tajima, when I became clan leader. Now, I pass them to you."
His gaze softened slightly.
"Walk your own path. Don't be bound by anything."
For a moment, memories flickered in his mind—of his father, his brothers… a time before everything fell apart.
Isamu's expression grew even more complex.
"Thank you… Father."
For the first time, he stepped forward and hugged him.
And for the first time, he called him Father.
Madara felt a rare sense of satisfaction. That alone made everything worth it.
…Until the next second.
Isamu grabbed five White Zetsu.
"Heh. Since you're so generous, you won't mind me taking a few extras. I'll take these. Goodbye, Uchiha Madara!"
Madara exploded.
"You brat! I gave you objects—not my Zetsu! Don't let me see you again, or I'll make you pay!"
But Isamu had already vanished.
Watching him leave, Madara's anger faded just as quickly as it came. A faint smile appeared.
"That brat… never takes a loss."
"A mix of Uchiha and Senju, huh…"
"This grandchild will be interesting."
He didn't care about the five White Zetsu. With the Gedo Statue, he could create as many as he wanted.
And as for secrets…
He trusted his son wouldn't expose them.
⸻
After leaving the base, the five White Zetsu looked uneasy.
"Isamu… is this really okay? Won't something happen if you take us?"
He waved it off.
"Relax. He wants you to come—so he can monitor me. If he really cared, we'd already be chased down."
The Zetsu exchanged glances.
"…That actually makes sense."
"Alright, we'll follow you. Just make sure Lord Madara doesn't blame us."
"Don't worry. You're with me now."
And with that, Isamu led them toward Konoha.
⸻
Meanwhile, inside Konoha Hospital—
Tsunade lay on a bed, her stomach visibly swollen. Beside her stood Uzumaki Mito and Nawaki.
"Grandma… is my child really about to be born?"
Mito smiled warmly.
"Yes. About five days from now."
Nawaki pouted.
"Geez, your kid's about to be born and Isamu's still unconscious. He's seriously unreliable."
Tsunade's face darkened instantly.
Mito reacted fast, covering Nawaki's mouth.
"Don't listen to him. I believe Isamu will wake up soon. Right now, your job is to take care of yourself—and the baby."
Tsunade nodded, calming herself.
"You're right… I'll protect our child."
Seeing her mood improve, Mito dragged Nawaki outside and tossed him aside.
"You idiot! Don't you know your sister is emotionally unstable right now? She's already struggling, and you still say things like that?"
Nawaki lowered his head.
"I know… I just spoke without thinking."
"If you do it again, don't come back. I brought you here to help—not make things worse. Understand?"
"…I understand."