That night, after Hyuga Satoru returned home from his afternoon training, Uzumaki Kushina sat silently on the sofa, cradling a photo frame—the group picture of Minato's old team.
"I'm home!"
"Huh? …Kushina?"
"What's wrong? Why are you sitting in the dark? Did the lights go out?"
After a long day as Hokage, Namikaze Minato stepped through the door, changing into his slippers. He looked curiously at his wife, sitting alone in the dimly lit living room, her face lost in shadow.
As he reached for the switch and the lights came on, Kushina blinked, startled from her thoughts. The sudden brightness seemed to wake her from a trance.
"Minato—you're finally back!"
Before he could even respond, she jumped up and threw herself into his arms, holding him tightly.
"Kushina… what happened?"
Minato could feel her emotions surging—anxious, unsettled. He wrapped his arms gently around her, stroking her back in comfort.
At the same time, his eyes flicked toward the window. He quietly sensed the faint chakra presence of Kakashi, hidden outside.
Minato's heart eased slightly.
Kakashi was the ANBU operative assigned to guard Kushina. If he was still calmly stationed outside, then nothing catastrophic had occurred.
"Minato," Kushina began breathlessly, "Satoru—that child… he saw your dead student. Uchiha Obito!"
Hearing that name, Minato's body stiffened slightly.
Kushina, relieved now that her husband was home, finally let her emotions spill forth. The revelation she had been holding in all afternoon—the shock, the confusion—she could finally share it with someone.
Holding the framed photo tightly, she took Minato's hand and recounted everything that had happened earlier that day.
At first, Minato was amazed to learn that Satoru had successfully awakened Kagura's Mind Eye—a sensory ability that took most Uzumaki years to master—and had managed to extend his range as far as the Konoha Cemetery in a single afternoon.
But as Kushina continued and described the chakra Satoru had sensed—its power, its ominous nature—Minato's expression grew increasingly grim.
When she reached the part about the boy's description of the masked man—his tiger-striped mask, his disfigured face, and his Sharingan—Minato's heart sank.
"Obito…" he murmured.
He was a man who rarely jumped to conclusions, but when too many coincidences lined up perfectly, they stopped being coincidences.
Even if the truth seemed impossible, facts were facts.
Neither Minato nor Kushina doubted Satoru's words for even a second.
After all, Satoru was the heir of the Hyuga Main Family—an honest and precocious child. What reason could he possibly have to tell such an elaborate, easily disproved lie?
And more importantly, Satoru had been just a toddler when Obito died. He couldn't have recognized him unless he had really seen someone who resembled him.
The description matched too well—half a ruined face, a single Sharingan eye, the same chakra signature unique to the Uchiha. Anyone who knew the truth of the Kannabi Bridge mission would naturally come to the same conclusion.
Such reasoning was almost… too perfect.
"Minato, could it be true?" Kushina whispered, hope flickering in her eyes. "If Obito's really alive… that would be wonderful, wouldn't it?"
But Minato's face remained grave.
His thoughts were anything but hopeful.
If Obito were truly alive… then why had he never revealed himself?
Even if the boy had been traumatized by the war and wished to live quietly, why would he return to Konoha in disguise—wearing a mask, suppressing his chakra, moving like a shadow?
If he wanted peace, if he wanted to live in the village again—Minato would have made it happen. He was Hokage. He was Obito's teacher. He would have helped him without hesitation.
No… the Obito Satoru saw was not here to live peacefully.
Minato's thoughts grew heavy. Whoever had saved Obito that day at Kannabi Bridge must have been a formidable figure. Someone capable of shaping a young man's heart—and perhaps corrupting it.
Whoever stood behind Obito now surely had their own designs.
His brows knit tighter as Kushina squeezed his hand softly, snapping him from his thoughts.
"Ah—sorry," he said gently. "I was lost in thought."
"Kushina, listen to me. Don't worry too much about this."
"If the person Satoru saw truly was Obito, then maybe he's just… trying to live his own life. If that's the case, we shouldn't disturb him. Everyone has the right to choose their own path."
He paused, then continued, his tone shifting, firm but calm.
"But if it wasn't Obito—if this man has some other motive—then he'll act again. And when he does, we'll be ready."
"Now that we know of his presence, we're no longer blind. As long as we track his movements, we'll eventually flush him out."
Minato's voice grew steadier as he spoke, his strategic mind already spinning.
As Hokage, he couldn't possibly allow an unidentified, masked individual—one powerful enough to evade ANBU detection—to roam Konoha unchecked.
Even if he didn't yet know who the man truly was, he could set the bait.
Satoru had seen the masked figure near the cemetery. If he returned there once, he was likely to return again.
And if the man really was Obito, his reasons would be obvious.
Back when he lived, Obito's only surviving relative had been his grandmother—an elderly woman who passed away not long after news of his death reached Konoha.
Her funeral had been handled by the Uchiha Clan, and she'd been buried in the clan's ancestral cemetery.
Other than her, the only people Obito had ever truly been close to were his teammates—Kakashi and Rin.
And now, buried in the Konoha Memorial Cemetery… lay Rin.
So that's it, Minato thought grimly. If he returns anywhere, it'll be there.
"I'll set a Flying Thunder God trap at Rin's grave…"
"If it truly is Obito…"
While soothing Kushina's worries, Minato's mind was already drawing up plans.
In his heart, he already had his suspicions. All that remained was confirmation.
Since Satoru had pointed out Obito's possible survival, Minato had a clear direction. Finding traces of him wouldn't be difficult.
Even young Uchiha Itachi had once sensed the masked man's presence.
How could Minato—the Yellow Flash himself, a shinobi with unmatched perception and intellect—fail to detect him if he tried?
Obito's concealment techniques weren't perfect. He had already left subtle traces all across Konoha. It was only a matter of time before they were uncovered.
And Satoru seemed to share that confidence. After returning home that night, he put the matter out of his mind, trusting Minato's sharp instincts to handle it.
The following days passed peacefully once again.
As time flowed quietly onward, two bellies—those of Kushina and Hyuga Hanako—grew rounder with each passing day.
New life was on its way.
And in the shadows of Konoha, plans—both seen and unseen—continued to move.
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