"It's settled then."
Minato's voice was as cold and steady as steel, leaving no room for further debate. Jiraiya nodded heavily. The myriad of thoughts previously swirling in his mind were silenced by his student's sheer resolve.
"I'm going to find the Third. We proceed as planned, Sensei." Minato turned away, the moonlight tracing a sharp, icy outline across his golden hair. "Please, be careful."
Before the words could even hang in the air, he flickered away. He transformed into a streak of golden light that dissolved into the night, vanishing without a trace. Jiraiya stood his ground until Minato's chakra signature had completely faded from his range. Only then did he let out a long, weary sigh.
"Let's go, Gamakon." He spoke in a low voice. "Time to pay a visit to the Uchiha patriarch."
With a blur of motion, Jiraiya vanished as well, heading in the opposite direction—straight toward the Uchiha Compound. They traveled in silence, the wind whistling past their ears, yet it couldn't drown out the noise churning in Jiraiya's heart. His internal state was far less steady than his rapid pace.
Gamakon's words echoed in his mind like a haunting melody.
'If things truly become irreparable, don't hesitate to borrow the Uchiha's strength. Specifically, the faction led by Fugaku.'
The suggestion was nothing short of a fantasy. The Uchiha's position in the village had always been delicate. They were the founders of Konoha, yet they were also a blade hidden in its scabbard, watched with extreme prejudice by the higher-ups. Asking them for help? It was like dancing with the devil.
"Gamakon, are you serious?" Jiraiya finally broke the silence, his voice heavy as they leapt across the rooftops. "Are you certain Obito won't side with the Uchiha? They are his own blood!"
"Blood?" Gamakon's lazy drawl drifted from above, dripping with unmasked mockery. "Jiraiya, you're far too naive. In the eyes of the current Obito, what difference is there between the Uchiha and Konoha? They are all just parts of this hypocritical world—accomplices in the events that led to Rin's death. He hates the entire world, and naturally, that includes the Uchiha who failed to protect anyone. He won't ask them for help; he'll only see them as pawns to be used and eventually destroyed."
"An Uchiha who awakens through absolute agony possesses a psyche that has long since transcended the boundaries of normal men."
Jiraiya fell into a brooding silence. Gamakon's logic was always so twisted, yet it pierced through to the heart of the matter with undeniable precision.
"And what about Fugaku? Will he actually help us?"
"Not necessarily," Gamakon replied bluntly. "But Minato's rise to power has undeniably eased the tension between the village and the Uchiha. Fugaku sees this as clearly as a mirror. As the patriarch, he might hesitate, but he isn't a fool. He knows better than anyone that a stable Konoha led by Minato is in the Uchiha's best long-term interest. If he learns that a madman is trying to tear it all down, how do you think he'll choose?"
Despite the reasoning, a cloud of doubt still hung over Jiraiya's heart. After all, they were the Uchiha. Those three syllables carried too much weight and complex history within the chronicles of Konoha.
As his thoughts churned, the silhouette of the Uchiha Compound came into view. The massive Uchiwa crest hung over the main gate, exuding an aura of majesty and isolation under the moonlight. The streets inside were cleaner than anywhere else in the village, the houses lined up with military precision. Even the air seemed to thicken with the Uchiha's trademark solemnity and pride.
Two shinobi wearing the Police Force uniform appeared in a flicker of movement, blocking his path. Their eyes were as sharp as hawks.
"Halt! State your business!"
"Yo." Jiraiya stopped in his tracks, instantly switching back to his persona as the carefree, wandering rogue. "The name's Jiraiya. Sorry for the late-night intrusion, but I was hoping to grab a drink with your patriarch, Fugaku."
The two guards exchanged a look, their faces flashing with ill-concealed shock. A surprise visit from one of the legendary Sannin in the dead of night was no trivial matter. Just as one was about to turn and report the arrival, a steady male voice rang out from behind them.
"It is a rare honor to have Lord Jiraiya grace us with his presence. Please, forgive our lack of a proper welcome."
Uchiha Fugaku walked slowly from the depths of the estate. He wore a dark kimono, his face as stern as the rumors suggested. However, his eyes held no hostility; instead, they showed a perfectly measured mix of surprise and professional courtesy.
"Fugaku." Jiraiya gave a slight nod.
"May I ask what brings Lord Jiraiya here so late?" Fugaku stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter. "The night air is chilly. Please, let us speak inside."
"Haha, it's nothing major." Jiraiya laughed dismissively, following him in. "I just got back to the village and heard that kid Minato became Hokage. Since our families have some history, I thought I'd stop by and pay my respects."
Upon hearing this, a faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared on Fugaku's habitually tense face.
"You are too kind. Minato's succession as the Fourth was the will of the people. For the Uchiha clan, it is also a fortunate turn of events. Lately, the atmosphere within the clan has indeed become much calmer than before."
His tone was neither humble nor arrogant. He candidly acknowledged the improvement of the Uchiha's situation under Minato's leadership but didn't overstate it. This attitude put Jiraiya's heart at ease; it seemed Gamakon's judgment hadn't been off the mark.
They sat down in the guest room, and Fugaku personally brewed a cup of hot tea. The rising aroma dispelled some of the night's chill. Jiraiya picked up the cup, blowing on the steam, and spoke with feigned casualness. "Speaking of which, I've been wandering for years, so I've become a bit of a stranger to the village's current affairs. As the head of the Police Force, you must know everything. Has everything been stable with the clan and the village lately?"
Fugaku's hand paused for a fraction of a second before returning to its natural rhythm. He looked up, his calm gaze meeting Jiraiya's directly.
"Everything is well, Lord Jiraiya. Thank you for your concern." He set the teacup down on the table with a soft clack.
The atmosphere shifted instantly. His tone remained level, but his eyes grew as sharp as blades. "However, Minato has been Hokage for months now. You didn't come earlier or later, yet you chose tonight to visit under the guise of 'reminiscing.'"
Fugaku leaned forward slightly, the oppressive pressure of a clan patriarch quietly filling the room. He spoke each word with chilling clarity. "I suspect your arrival is for neither congratulations nor nostalgia. When a man of your stature knocks on my door personally, I doubt it's to chat with a Police Force captain about the trivialities of daily patrols."
Meanwhile, on the other side of Konoha.
Minato's silhouette appeared silently in front of a secluded residence—the home of the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi. It was late; most of the house was dark, with only one or two windows emitting a faint glow.
Minato stood before the door, taking a deep breath of the cool night air to suppress the storm raging in his soul. When he finally looked up, his handsome face showed only the humility and gentleness of a junior. He raised his hand and knocked softly.
Knock, knock, knock.
The rhythmic sound was exceptionally clear in the silent night. A moment later, light footsteps approached from inside, followed by an aged but still powerful voice.
"Who is it? At this hour..."
The door cracked open, and Hiruzen Sarutobi peered out, a freshly lit pipe clenched between his teeth. When he realized it was Minato, a flash of genuine surprise crossed his eyes.
"Minato? What are you..."
He stopped mid-sentence. His disciple's student—the Fourth Hokage of Konoha—still wore a smile and stood as tall as a pine, but deep within those sky-blue eyes was a concentrated mist of impenetrable frost.
The surprise in Hiruzen's gaze vanished, replaced by a deep solemnity. He silently pulled the door wide open and stepped aside.
"Come in." He exhaled a cloud of grey smoke, his voice so calm it betrayed no emotion at all.