In the Land of Fire, deep in a forest on its western edge, Uchiha Obito sat on the trunk of a massive tree, one leg dangling loosely in the air.
A white mask etched with black patterns covered his face, his single visible Sharingan glinting faintly beneath it.
For days now, Obito hadn't returned to his base. Instead, he kept moving between locations, never lingering too long, wary of Minato Namikaze's pursuit.
The Fourth Hokage's mastery of space–time ninjutsu had shaken him to his core.
That night of the Nine-Tails' rampage, Obito had entered Konoha brimming with confidence. Yet his certainty was shattered the moment he clashed with Minato. The Nine-Tails' Tailed Beast Bomb had been redirected, his every move countered. Without Izanagi, he would have died there, his ambitions ending in Konoha's rubble.
A rustling sound broke the silence. From the trunk beside him, a White Zetsu emerged, half its body sliding out of the living wood.
"Hey, Obito," Zetsu chirped. "Got some news for you."
Obito tilted his head. "Speak."
"The Fourth Hokage's dead. He sealed the Nine-Tails at the cost of his life. You don't have to keep hiding anymore."
"Hmph." Obito's tone was cold. "It's not fear that keeps me moving but to keep our base safe from being discovered. Minato couldn't kill me."
The Zetsu who called himself Tobi didn't bother exposing the lie. He simply pressed on.
"The Nine-Tails Jinchūriki survived. But the beast… it was split in two."
Obito's Sharingan flickered. "Split…?"
"Yeah. One half sealed into Uzumaki Kushina, the other into her son... Namikaze Naruto."
Obito stilled. He thought for a moment, and then gave a low, bitter laugh.
"As expected of Minato. Even in death he kept his composure and saved his wife and child, and secured Konoha's future." His lips curled beneath the mask. "The man truly lived up to the title of Yellow Flash."
"The intel's reliable," Tobi added quickly. "Our spies in the villages pulled the pieces together. Not everyone knows the details, but this much we're sure of. Oh, and there's a rumor spreading in Konoha. They're saying the attack came from Uchiha Madara's descendants."
Obito let out a sharp exhale through his nose. "Heh. Not far off the mark."
The attack had left Konoha scarred, its people demanding answers.
Sarutobi Hiruzen personally oversaw the statement that the administration released to the public. It outlined the legend of Uchiha Madara, his alliance with the First Hokage, their joint founding of Konoha, their eventual conflict, and Madara's betrayal when he returned with the Nine-Tails at his side.
The story painted the attacker as a remnant of Madara's line, carrying on his twisted will. With this official narrative, coupled with the Uchiha clan's visible sacrifice on the night of the attack, the villagers had no grounds to direct their hatred at the current Uchiha.
After all, every clan has its black sheep. Why should the Uchiha of today be blamed for the sins of a man who lived decades ago?
Still, grief needed an outlet. Families who had lost loved ones whispered blame toward the Hokage's office, the Jinchūriki, anyone they could direct their pain at.
And so, despite her sacrifice, Uzumaki Kushina became a target of scorn.
Most of it was quiet whispers, cold shoulders, isolation. Only the most bitter, selfish villagers dared mock her to her face.
Kushina bore it with weary resilience. She had endured ridicule in her youth; now, with Naruto, Mikoto, and Jiraiya beside her, she endured again.
Yet the wound of Minato's death was fresh. Her spirit remained heavy, her days steeped in quiet sorrow.
Back in the forest, Obito's Sharingan spun, scarlet light glinting through the mask's eyehole.
"They think I'm Madara's descendant? Ridiculous." He spat the words, lips curling.
"You're wrong," Tobi replied with a smirk. "According to what we've dug up, you are of his bloodline."
Obito barked a humorless laugh. "Did Madara even have a wife? With his face and that temper? Hard to imagine."
"Never married," Zetsu admitted, "but that doesn't mean he never fathered children. In his youth, he was the clan's brightest genius and later its leader. The elders hounded him constantly about continuing the line. Whether by choice or duty… it's possible."
Obito's irritation spiked. "Enough. Bloodline or not, I don't care. Don't ever mention it again."
"Fine, fine." Zetsu waved it off. "So, what's next? Straight to Konoha to grab the Nine-Tails?"
Obito shook his head. "Not yet. Kushina and the boy will be under heavy guard, and the seal during its dormant cycle is unbreakable. Even if I got there, I couldn't draw the beast out."
He leaned forward, Sharingan gleaming. "I'll head to Kirigakure instead."
"Kirigakure?"
"Black Zetsu says the Fourth Mizukage, Yagura, has sealed the newborn Three-Tails into himself. If I take control of Yagura, I'll have both the beast and a Kage under my hand. I'll throw Hidden Mist into chaos and let the whole shinobi world burn."
Hatred surged in his chest as memories of Rin's death resurfaced. His Sharingan twisted, evolving into the pattern of his Mangekyō.
Tobi watched silently, amused by the storm of rage burning in Obito's gaze.
"What about Akatsuki?" the White Zetsu finally asked.
"They'll continue as planned. Keep an eye on them, but don't interfere too much."
Obito stood, the space around him beginning to warp into a spiraling vortex.
"Also, send more of your kind into Konoha. I want constant intelligence."
He paused, voice dropping lower. "And find me Uchiha with matured three-tomoe Sharingan. The more the better. My left eye feels… empty. I'll need material for Izanagi."
"Understood."
The vortex swallowed him, twisting his figure into nothing. Moments later, Zetsu's body slipped back into the tree, vanishing into the wood. The forest fell silent once more.