"Father, nothing must happen to you."
As the great battle neared its end, a white figure cloaked in a black robe sprinted along the riverbank.
"You must wait for me," Fugaku thought, images of Uchiha Yama flashing repeatedly through his mind. Despite this, an uneasy feeling gnawed at him.
The Uzumaki mask covering Fugaku's face spoke softly, "I suspect battle will begin soon. Before that, there are things I need to tell you."
"What?" Fugaku snapped, already irritated from exhaustion.
Your opponent is Konoha's Lightning Flash, the mask said calmly. "Your combat power is inferior to mine, and you have been running for four hours while injured."
"What are you saying?" Fugaku asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I'm saying it would be better if I took over for you in this fight," the masked figure replied solemnly.
Fugaku shook his head apologetically. "I appreciate everything you've done, but it's unnecessary. My father is strong. Even Hayashi might not be able to defeat him. With me added, our strength is enough to surpass Hayashi."
But in truth, Fugaku no longer wished to deal with Madara.
The mask nodded as if unaware of Fugaku's thoughts. "Indeed. Your body has Hashirama's artificial power. Combining Senju and Uchiha strength could manifest unprecedented power."
Fugaku stayed silent. Snow melted around him as the temperature rose, signaling the coming storm.
"What's happening?" Unease gripped him. He leaped to the tallest tree to survey the surroundings.
In the distance, a layer of eerie Black Flames drifted, devouring the forest relentlessly.
"My companions reported this should be right there," the mask said.
"Good, let's go!" Fugaku roared, plunging from the treetop.
Meanwhile, Hayashi, who had ripped out the Mangekyō Sharingan, slumped on the ground, pale as death.
Do not be fooled by his calm appearance. Ten years immersed in Taikōjin had ravaged every cell in his body. The final strike, if Uchiha Yama had been more resilient, might have led to a very different outcome.
Beside him, Uchiha Yama lay fading. Snowflakes melted upon his bloodied face as he struggled for breath.
Yama smiled faintly. Memories flashed before him. Years ago, when Madara had left the village, it had been a snowy, cold day, filled with gloom. His young self had been shaken by worry for the clan's future, yet the most promising Uchiha youth had comforted him.
Shortly after, that youth became a disciple of Senju Tobirama, and their relationship gradually soured. Yama never understood why he resented his childhood friend. He knew Tobirama only took Kagami as a disciple to sway the Uchiha Clan, a decision backed by the elders, yet he still hated it.
In truth, Yama had fantasized about becoming Tobirama's disciple himself, ascending to clan chief, reaching the peak of power—but Kagami's brilliance overshadowed him. The clan's attention was always on Kagami. The rest were merely supporting characters.
Despite his jealousy, Kagami never sought recognition. Even after Tobirama's death, when the clan supported Kagami to contend for Third Hokage, he stepped aside to back Hiruzen Sarutobi.
Yama's disappointment grew into resentment, and from that day, the two drifted toward opposition.
Did he truly hate Kagami? Perhaps not. The distance between them had always been too great to bridge. Now, it was irrelevant. Yama was dying.
His lips twitched as he struggled to speak his last words.
"Kagami… was killed by Hiruzen Sarutobi… From now on… the Uchiha Clan… is entrusted… to… you…"
Hayashi's eyes hardened. With a swift, angled hand-sword strike, he severed Yama's head, ending the Uchiha veteran's life.
At that moment, Fugaku broke through the last bushes of the forest. He raised his head, only to see the sight he dreaded most.
Hayashi stood over Uchiha Yama, whose life was fully extinguished.
Fugaku froze, the world around him white and silent. Shock and disbelief etched across his face.
The Uzumaki mask around Fugaku's cheeks dispersed, then reformed. The two Sharingan in Fugaku's eyes spun rapidly. The left eye formed a three-petaled flower, the right eye a continuous tomoe pattern.
Fugaku's body trembled as he let out a roar, charging toward the Black Flames.
The mask intervened, poking its head out urgently: "That cannot be touched."
But reason had left Fugaku.
Even if he activated the Mangekyō, the mask calculated, he could not match Konoha's Lightning Flash. Uchiha Yama had already fallen. Charging recklessly would only reveal their position to the ANBU, who were already on their way.
Madara's orders were clear: under no circumstances should their tracks be exposed.
The mask sighed. Fugaku's goal had been achieved. There was no reason to let him continue his reckless charge.
Before Fugaku could react, a white fist slammed heavily onto his head.
The Uzumaki mask glanced at the youth handling Yama's corpse, then silently submerged into the earth.
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