Namikaze Minato greeted everyone with a warm smile, though his heart was not so calm. This man had sensed him before he triggered Flying Thunder God. That was no simple feat. Since mastering the technique, almost no one detected its arrival in advance.
"Truly, thank you for guiding them. I have been buried in duties lately and neglected my students' training." Minato stepped up to them, apologetic.
Catching the single tomoe in Senya's eyes, Minato blinked. So he was Uchiha too. But how had he sensed him? With one tomoe? Did a single tomoe do that? Or did this man share a talent for space-time arts?
He had written every insight about Flying Thunder God into the Sealed Book. A few from the Anbu had tried. None learned it. Only Benifuji Raitou, Yamashiro Aoba, and Shiranui Genma had even reached the threshold, and slowly at that. Minato set aside any thought of recruiting. The higher-ups would never let him teach such a technique to an Uchiha, not for now. Still, he memorized the name and face. Later, perhaps.
While Minato weighed possibilities, Senya studied him too, but for different reasons. Yes, that ceremonial mantle was handsome. Much better than that midriff-baring kimono.
He remembered that Obito's neighborhood elder ran a clothing shop. Time to visit for a few games of shogi.
After some easy conversation, they returned to Obito's home. Seeing her grandson's teacher, Obito's grandmother lit up with joy. Their home had not been this lively in a long while. Minato, a shinobi of common birth, carried none of a clan elite's stiffness, and had her laughing in moments. Senya let himself bask in the warmth.
After dinner he slipped across the lane to the elder's house. The board was already laid out. The old man loved shogi but was middling at best, the purest kind of eager novice. He often challenged Senya. After each loss he muttered that the table was low, the pieces slick, his ideas fuzzy, then laughed it off and played again.
When Senya mentioned wanting a few ceremonial mantles, the elder refused any deposit and only asked Senya to visit and play more often. With no children of his own, he clearly saw Senya as family. That simple kindness warmed Senya. He had begun to melt into ordinary life. It felt good.
Night deepened.
In Shikkotsu Forest, after measuring for the robes and finishing their shogi, Senya returned to train through the night. His Sage Body had reached ninety-eight percent. What remained was patient polish. He eyed the wooden-style compendium glowing in his mind. Almost there.
Days slipped by.
At dawn, a dispatch left the intel tower and reached the Hokage's office at speed. Orochimaru, Jiraiya, and Namikaze Minato stood behind Sarutobi Hiruzen, faces grave. Tsunade, shattered by Nawaki and Dan's deaths, had left the village and would likely not fight in this war. Danzō sat apart, silent, thoughts opaque. Orochimaru's mind was elsewhere, steeped in human experiments at a critical phase.
Hiruzen read the report, drew a long breath on his pipe, and said, "The Third Kazekage is missing. Cloud used the chaos to strike Sand. War is coming."
As the strongest of the Five, Konoha could not remain apart. The village would join the fray, and the clash would widen into a world war. Hiruzen was still in his prime, far from the weary years, and his will pressed hard enough to pin Danzō in place.
"Cloud has been restless, but there's no formal declaration yet," Mitokado Homura noted. He and Utatane Koharu had been watching the borders. When the front ignited, they would go to command on site. Advisors were not only strategists. Both were elite jōnin.
While they mapped deployments for Wind and Lightning borders, a shinobi burst into the tower. The Anbu at the doors let him pass without a hand raised. He wore the uniform of the Intel Corps, and he held a red envelope, the mark of highest urgency.
BANG!
The office doors flew wide. He lifted the packet high and shouted...