[CONTINUED FLASH-BACK CHAPTER]
After the meeting with the elders, Minato called Jiraiya to his office to discuss the matter at hand.
Jiraiya paced the office like a caged tiger, his usual boisterous energy replaced by grim fury and disbelief. Minato had just finished relaying the horrifying, almost unbelievable sequence of events – the masked man, the Sharingan, the phasing ability, the extraction, the Kyuubi's rampage, Kushina barely surviving, Naruto becoming the Yang Jinchuriki, Kushina holding the Yin, and the final, devastating identification.
"Obito..." Jiraiya breathed, the name catching in his throat. He slammed a fist onto Minato's desk, rattling the scrolls. "That foolish, idealistic brat... How?! How could he survive that cave-in? And to come back like this? Controlling the Kyuubi? It doesn't make sense!"
He ran a hand through his wild white hair, agitation radiating from him. "Someone has to be behind this, Minato. Someone pulled him from the brink, twisted him. That power... that phasing technique... it's nothing I've ever seen. And claiming to be Madara? It reeks of manipulation!"
"I agree, sensei," Minato said wearily, the weight of the revelation still heavy on him. The image of Obito's single Sharingan burning with hatred was seared into his mind. "The Obito I faced was filled with rage, spouting rhetoric about ending this reality, about pain... He mentioned Rin." Minato's voice grew quiet. "Her death... something about her death clearly became a breaking point, a vulnerability that someone exploited ruthlessly."
"Exploited by who?" Jiraiya demanded. "The 'Madara' he serves? Could the real Madara have somehow survived Hashirama-sensei? Or is this an imposter using his name and legacy?" The questions hung in the air, vast and unanswered. "We know Madara had designs on the Kyuubi..."
Minato frowned, considering the possibilities. "The legends are fragmented. Madara's ultimate fate after his battle with the First Hokage is shrouded in myth. Whether this is the original Madara, somehow clinging to life, or a successor adopting his mantle and ideology... the result is the same: an enemy wielding immense power and dangerous knowledge, capable of manipulating someone like Obito." His gaze hardened. "Our immediate targets are Obito himself – to understand what happened, if possible – and this 'Madara' figure pulling the strings."
"We have to try and save him, Minato!" Jiraiya insisted fiercely, slamming his fist on the desk again. "Think of Kakashi! That kid's already carrying the weight of the world after Sakumo-san... and Rin... If he knew Obito was alive and responsible for this..."
"I know the burden it places on Kakashi," Minato sighed, the pain clear in his own eyes.
"And saving Obito, freeing him from this manipulation, is the outcome I pray for. But sensei," Minato met Jiraiya's gaze squarely, the steel returning to his voice, "the Obito I fought was prepared to sacrifice this entire village, including Kushina and our son, for his twisted ideals. Redemption may be a luxury we cannot afford if it jeopardizes Konoha or Naruto. We must be prepared for the possibility that the Obito we knew is truly gone, and only the enemy remains."
Jiraiya slumped slightly, the harsh reality hitting him. "So what's the plan? How do we fight an enemy who can turn intangible and command the Kyuubi?"
"We adapt," Minato stated, his mind already working through strategic possibilities. "First, severing his control over the Kyuubi was critical. He's lost his primary weapon, for now." He tapped the desk. "Second, I marked him with the Hiraishin seal. We can track him, engage him on our terms, force him out of the shadows. Third, his phasing technique, while formidable, has limits. I observed a slight vulnerability, a moment of transition. Exploiting that requires speed and prediction, but it can be countered."
He leaned forward. "We form a covert task force. You, sensei, will use your spy network – it's the best there is. Focus on gathering any intel related to individuals matching Obito's description, anyone claiming Madara's name, any unusual activity involving rogue Uchiha or powerful unknown entities."
"And you?" Jiraiya asked.
"I handle internal security," Minato replied. "Strengthen the village defenses, manage the political fallout, ensure Kushina and Naruto's absolute safety. I'll personally monitor Obito's movements via the seal, analyzing his patterns, looking for opportunities. And I will begin researching countermeasures – seals to potentially disrupt his phasing technique, methods to identify or break powerful manipulation Genjutsu or cursed seals. Kushina's Uzumaki knowledge will be invaluable there, once she recovers." He looked at Jiraiya intently. "And... we bring in Kakashi."
Jiraiya looked hesitant again. "Minato, are you sure? He's just fourteen..."
"He's ANBU," Minato stated firmly, cutting off the objection. "He's one of our best. He knew Obito intimately – his mannerisms, his potential weaknesses. His Sharingan, Obito's gift, might be the key to seeing through deception or countering whatever abilities this 'Madara' has granted him. And," Minato's voice softened slightly but remained firm, "he deserves to know the truth, however agonizing. Keeping this from him, letting him mourn a lie while unknowingly hunting his friend... that would be a deeper betrayal than the truth itself."
Jiraiya ran a hand over his face, then nodded slowly, accepting the grim necessity. "Alright, Minato. You're right. But we watch him. Closely. This... this could destroy him."
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Kakashi stood rigidly at attention, his posture ramrod straight despite the exhaustion evident in his single visible eye. Minato-sensei – Hokage-sama now – had summoned him personally to this secluded ANBU training ground, dismissing the rest of Kakashi's squad.
The air felt heavy, somber, charged with unspoken gravity.
Minato recounted the harrowing events of the Kyuubi attack, his voice calm but laced with the residual tension of the battle.
He described the security breach, the deaths of Biwako-sama and Taji, the appearance of the masked man. He detailed the fight – the unnerving phasing ability that defied conventional attacks, the advanced Space-Time Ninjutsu that rivaled his own, the powerful Sharingan gleaming in the single eyehole.
Kakashi listened in taut silence, his fist clenching unconsciously as he pictured his sensei facing such a terrifying foe.
Then, Minato paused, his blue eyes locking onto Kakashi's, filled with a shared grief that made Kakashi's breath catch. "Kakashi... the man behind the mask... the one who did all this..." He hesitated, the words clearly painful. "...Based on his build, his chakra signature resonance with the seal I placed, his specific knowledge, his abilities, and... a moment of recognition during our fight..." Minato took a deep breath. "...I believe it was Obito."
The world dissolved into a roaring static in Kakashi's ears. He physically staggered back, unable to process the name. "No..." The word was a choked whisper. "Sensei... that's... that's impossible! Obito is dead! He died at Kannabi Bridge! I... I was there!"
"He survived, Kakashi," Minato said gently but firmly, stepping closer, his presence a steadying force against Kakashi's reeling shock.
"I don't know how. Perhaps the cave-in wasn't as complete as assumed, perhaps someone intervened. But he survived." His voice hardened again.
"And he has been found, manipulated, twisted by someone incredibly powerful, someone claiming the name and authority of Madara Uchiha. The boy we knew, the teammate you remember, seems lost within the monster he has become." He quickly explained placing the FTG seal, severing the Kyuubi control, and Obito's enraged words about Rin and the shinobi world.
Kakashi sank to his knees, the world tilting violently. Obito. Alive. The masked man. The Kyuubi attack. Rin. His fault. The thoughts crashed over him, a suffocating avalanche of guilt, horror, and disbelief.
He saw Rin impaled on his own Chidori again, heard Obito's desperate cries from beneath the rocks. He had failed them both. Failed Rin by not protecting her, failed Obito by surviving when he didn't, failed him again now by not realizing... He choked, unable to breathe, the weight crushing him. "My fault... It's all my fault... Rin... Obito..."
Minato knelt beside him, placing a comforting, solid hand on his shoulder.
"It is not your fault, Kakashi," he repeated forcefully, willing Kakashi to hear him through the haze of grief. "You were children placed in an impossible situation by war. Obito is a victim of circumstance, of immense loss, and now, of calculated, manipulation. The blame lies with those who prey on broken hearts, who twist ideals into justifications for terror."
He met Kakashi's haunted eye. "We don't know if the Obito we knew can be reached. But we know the enemy who wears his face must be stopped."
He explained the formation of the secret task force, outlining Kakashi's vital role. "Your knowledge of Obito's personality, his fighting style before... it's invaluable. Your Sharingan, his Sharingan," Minato emphasized gently, "might perceive things others cannot, perhaps see through Genjutsu or detect the nature of his phasing technique more clearly. You are essential to this, Kakashi."
He paused. "But this mission demands absolute secrecy. Obito's identity cannot be revealed. The potential panic, the political firestorm, especially with the Uchiha... it would tear the village apart."
Kakashi slowly looked up, the raw grief still swimming in his eye, but now warring with a nascent flicker of horrified determination. Obito. Alive. Twisted. Needing to be saved... or stopped.
It was an unbearable, impossible burden, a mission dredged from his worst nightmares. But he couldn't refuse. It was his duty. His responsibility to the friend he failed, to the sensei who believed in him, to the village Obito now threatened. His chance, perhaps twisted and agonizing, for some kind of atonement.
"I... understand, Hokage-sama," Kakashi whispered, his voice hoarse, tasting like ash. He pushed himself slowly to his feet, unsteady but resolute, the grief settling into a cold, hard knot in his stomach. "What are your orders?"
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[Several Weeks Post-Kyuubi Attack - Konoha Hospital, Private Room]
Sunlight streamed through the hospital window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Kushina Uzumaki lay propped up against several pillows, still pale and significantly weakened, but undeniably alive.
The fiery vibrancy was dimmed, her chakra levels severely depleted from the extraction and the strain of containing Yin Kurama, but her violet eyes held a fierce, protective light as she watched the small bundle sleeping peacefully in the bassinet beside her bed. Naruto. Her son. Safe.
A soft knock came at the door. Kushina looked up, managing a small smile as it opened and Mikoto Uchiha entered, carrying her own infant son, Sasuke, who looked around with curious dark eyes. Following closely behind Mikoto was a small, serious-looking Itachi, barely five years old but already possessing the quiet composure of his clan.
"Kushina! Oh, thank goodness!" Mikoto rushed forward, her usual calm demeanor replaced with visible relief and concern. She carefully placed the sleeping Sasuke in another bassinet brought in by a nurse, before taking Kushina's hand gently. "We were so worried! When we heard about the attack..."
"I'm alright, Mikoto, 'ttebane," Kushina reassured her, though her voice was weaker than usual. "Just... very tired. Minato and the Third... they handled things." She carefully omitted the full details of the sealing.
Mikoto squeezed her hand. "We heard. Everyone is talking about the Fourth's bravery. And yours." Her eyes drifted to Naruto, sleeping soundly. "He's beautiful, Kushina. Looks just like Minato."
"He has my appetite, 'ttebane," Kushina chuckled weakly, wincing slightly as she shifted. "And maybe my temper."
Itachi stepped forward silently, bowing politely. "Kushina-sama, congratulations on the birth of your son. We are relieved you are recovering well." His formal words sounded practiced, but his dark eyes held genuine concern as they flickered between Kushina and the sleeping Naruto.
"Thank you, Itachi-chan," Kushina smiled warmly at the boy. She had always had a soft spot for Fugaku and Mikoto's serious little prodigy. "Sasuke looks strong and healthy too!"
Mikoto beamed, picking up her own son who had started to stir. "He's mostly quiet, thankfully. Unlike some people's children will probably be." She winked at Kushina.
They chatted for a while, the easy conversation of mothers, sharing tips, complaining about sleepless nights (though Kushina's were due to more than just newborn cries), Mikoto relaying village news and offering support. Itachi stood silently beside his mother, observing Naruto with unnerving focus, occasionally asking a quiet, insightful question about seals or chakra that belied his age.
Kushina noticed the slight strain behind Mikoto's smile when village matters came up, a subtle tension that hadn't been there before the attack. But mostly, their conversation flowed easily, the comfortable rhythm of old friends sharing the universal joys and complaints of new motherhood.
It was a welcome pocket of normalcy, a reminder of the simple connections that anchored life in Konoha.
As Mikoto prepared to leave, promising to bring over some of her famous sweet rice cakes next time, Kushina watched Itachi peer intently at the sleeping Naruto one last time. The usual seriousness in the young Uchiha's eyes softened for a moment into simple, boyish curiosity as he looked at the tiny baby with the whisker marks on his cheeks.
"He's very... yellow," Itachi observed quietly, likely referring to Naruto's shock of blond hair, so different from the dark Uchiha locks he was used to.
Kushina laughed, a genuine, warm sound. "He takes after his father, 'ttebane! Let's hope he gets Minato's brains and not just his hair color!"
Mikoto chuckled, gently guiding Itachi towards the door. "Don't worry, Kushina. With you two as parents, he'll be strong and smart. Maybe he and Sasuke can be good friends someday, push each other." She smiled warmly. "Just try to get some rest. We'll see you soon."
"You too, Mikoto. Take care!" Kushina waved as they left.
She watched the door close, then turned back to the sleeping Naruto, her heart swelling with fierce, uncomplicated love.
The night had been terrifying, the future felt uncertain, but right now, in this quiet sunlit room, her son was safe, her friend had visited, and the simple hope for ordinary childhoods – filled with scraped knees, laughter, maybe even a friendly rivalry between a loud Uzumaki and a quiet Uchiha – felt blessedly real.
She gently tucked Naruto's blanket tighter around him, a soft smile gracing her lips. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she would face them, for him.