A chilling laugh resonated through the psychic space, carrying a weight of bitter amusement. Uchiha Madara stood with his arms crossed, his crimson Sharingan glinting dangerously in the dim light.
"Hah… how laughable. You sacrificed everything for Konoha, yet this is what you receive in return? This village is beyond saving… completely rotten to its roots."
His voice, laced with mockery and scorn, hung in the air. Beside him, Senju Hashirama sat in silence, his usual warmth replaced with a deep, troubled frown. The man who had once dreamed of peace, who had built Konoha with his own hands, now found himself questioning whether that dream had long since turned to ash.
Senju Tobirama wanted to refute Madara's words. He wanted to insist that Konoha still had hope, that the Will of Fire still burned strong. But the truth choked him into silence.
Was this still the Konoha they had once built?
The mighty tree they had nurtured had grown hollow from the inside, its branches rotting under the weight of corruption and stagnation. Even he, the man who had fought tirelessly to maintain order and stability, could no longer ignore the decay.
His gaze shifted toward Shouta Kazuki. He had once regarded the young man with suspicion, wary of the sheer ambition he carried. A dangerous child, one who spoke openly of change, of revolution—ideas that clashed with everything Tobirama had stood for. And yet, the more he saw, the more he understood why Shouta harbored such thoughts.
At first, he had dismissed the boy as an idealist with an unhealthy hunger for power. Now, he wasn't so sure.
Because, for the first time in his long afterlife, even he was beginning to wonder—did Konoha need to change?
A troubled sigh escaped him. His heart wavered.
Uzumaki Mito, standing quietly beside her husband, observed everything in silence. Though Hashirama had always been foolishly optimistic, he had also always possessed a strong sense of justice. And she could feel it—her husband was at a crossroads.
Perhaps this time, he would not turn away.
Just as the weight of contemplation thickened the air, a sudden burst of smoke erupted in the psychic space.
A figure emerged from the haze.
Namikaze Minato had returned.
A Fractured Resolve
In the living world, Shouta Kazuki and Namikaze Minato had once again found a secluded corner, away from prying eyes. Without hesitation, Shouta had dispelled his summoning technique, allowing Minato to retreat back into the psychic space.
Tobirama took a step forward, his lips parting as if to say something—but no words came.
He wanted to tell Minato to stay strong, to resist the bitterness creeping into his heart. He wanted to tell him that vengeance and resentment would only consume him in the end.
But how could he?
Who was he to preach when he himself had carried the same burdens, the same grudges?
Don't tell others to be kind when they have suffered more than you.
Uzumaki Naruto was Minato's son. His flesh and blood.
Tobirama had once raged against Tsunade's decision to abandon Konoha, yet now, how could he ask Minato to turn a blind eye to what had happened to Naruto?
Minato met Tobirama's gaze and smiled—an exhausted, bitter smile.
"It's alright. I'm not so fragile," he said softly. His voice was steady, but the pain behind his words was unmistakable. "Besides… I've been thinking. The things Shouta Kazuki said before—they interest me."
A heavy silence followed.
"Perhaps Konoha really does need to change."
His words sent ripples through the room.
Without hesitation, he turned to Uchiha Fugaku.
"Hey, Fugaku… let's talk."
Fugaku raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Fine. Let's go to my place."
Without another word, the two vanished from sight.
Tobirama exhaled slowly.
Hashirama still hadn't spoken.
Madara, who had been watching everything unfold, merely scoffed and took a seat next to Hashirama, resting his elbow against his knee. He said nothing, but his presence alone was enough.
This time, he wouldn't leave his old friend to suffer alone.
A Path Unveiled
Inside Uchiha Fugaku's villa, the atmosphere was quiet yet tense. The two men sat across from each other, studying one another carefully.
"Minato," Fugaku began, "I assume you have something in mind? Or are you here to tell me you want to return to power? To become Hokage again?"
Minato chuckled—low and humorless.
"No, Fugaku," he said. "The Fourth Hokage is dead. I have no interest in that title anymore."
Fugaku frowned slightly. He had expected a different answer.
Minato continued, his expression darkening. "I gave my life for Konoha. I entrusted my son to them… and yet, he was abandoned, mistreated, left to suffer." He clenched his fists. "In this second life, I will live for myself. For my family."
For Kushina.
A flicker of understanding crossed Fugaku's face. He leaned forward slightly, interested.
"Go on."
Minato took a deep breath before speaking again.
"Shouta Kazuki told us that summoning the dead requires money," he said. "He doesn't have the funds, and he's bound to Konoha for now. But I have an idea—I can get the money for him."
Fugaku raised an eyebrow. "You want to fund him?"
"I want to see Kushina again," Minato admitted. His voice softened, momentarily vulnerable. "I miss her."
A long pause. Then, Fugaku let out a quiet laugh.
"You're not the only one who wants to see their loved ones again," he said. "Mikoto… I'd give anything to bring her back."
Minato nodded.
"Then, how about it?" he asked. "It's been a long time since we've fought side by side, hasn't it?"
A smirk tugged at Fugaku's lips.
"It has," he admitted. "Since the day you became Hokage, and I became the Uchiha patriarch, we stopped fighting as comrades." He exhaled. "You know, this could be a good excuse to stretch our legs."
"But," he added, "we'll need more than just a little money. Summoning the dead isn't a guaranteed process. We might need multiple attempts to get it right."
Minato chuckled. "Then we'll just have to get as much as possible."
Fugaku tilted his head. "I should warn you, though—Mikoto wasn't as weak as people thought. Before she died, she had already awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan."
Minato's eyes widened slightly.
Fugaku smirked.
"If we're talking about power levels… my wife was already knocking on the door of Hokage-level strength."
Minato exhaled, his lips curling into a rare, genuine smile.
"Then," he said, "we'll just have to make sure we have enough to bring them both back."
And just like that, the course of history began to shift once more.