The sun was sinking behind the rooftops of Konoha, its orange glow spilling into the Hokage's office and casting long, golden streaks across the room. Shadows stretched across the walls where scrolls were stacked in neat but daunting towers, their paper edges curled with use. The air smelled faintly of parchment, candle wax, and ink; the quiet scratch of a brush on paper was the only sound in the room.
At the centre of it all, Minato hunched slightly over his desk as his brush danced across the rough surface of a scroll. His blond hair caught the evening light, glowing faintly like the last ember of the sun, but his expression betrayed fatigue. A soft yawn escaped him as he pulled back for a moment, rolling his stiff wrist.
"Haah… already this late?" he murmured, eyes drifting to the window where the light was fading into a deeper red.
He let his gaze fall toward the towering stack of untouched scrolls on the left side of his desk. They seemed to lean toward him like a threatening wave, daring him to fall behind.
"Of course, there's still a mountain waiting."
For a moment, he considered simply pushing them aside and calling it a day. But habit and duty pressed him back into his chair.
"Maybe… one more hour," he muttered. He dipped the brush into ink again, steadying his hand as he bent forward.
But just as his fingers moved, a memory flashed across his mind: Kushina standing with her arms crossed, crimson hair swaying as her fiery glare locked onto him. Her voice echoed clearly in his head. "Minato, don't you dare keep me waiting just because you're buried in scrolls again!"
He winced at the phantom sound, lips quirking in rueful amusement.
He could already imagine her reaction if he walked home late again, the way her brow furrowed, the sharp retorts that flew faster than shuriken, followed inevitably by her sigh and the soft punch to his shoulder. And he loved her too much to risk that tonight, especially so close to their wedding.
Still, his tired mind betrayed him, slipping into foolish thoughts. 'What if there were a jutsu that could finish paperwork for me?'
The idea crept in like a tempting shadow. 'Maybe… the Shadow Clone Jutsu?'
Then he groaned softly and shook his head. "No, that's inefficient. They'd disperse, and all that fatigue would hit me like a hammer. Using that for desk work? Only a fool would… certainly not a Hokage."
He chuckled again, though it was tinged with self-mockery. "Imagine my reputation if word got out."
"Half an hour," he bargained aloud this time. "Any longer, and I'll be in more danger from Kushina than from enemy shinobi."
The brush scratched once more as he pulled another finished scroll into the 'completed' pile. The stack on the left had barely shrunk, but progress was progress.
Then a stray thought cut through: 'The Academy's first day back after the war should have ended by now.'
His lips curved faintly. He imagined the rows of children, nervous and eager, stepping into their new roles. "I hope they show promise," he whispered, brushing the last stroke on the parchment. His fingers twitched as if he might grab his cloak and head out, check on the students himself.
He resisted, though not without effort. No, that would look… clingy. I should trust the instructors.
The room's stillness shifted suddenly. Minato's blue eyes narrowed as he sensed the faint ripple of chakra. A shadow fell across his desk, and then with a muted fwsshk, an ANBU operative appeared, kneeling on one knee.
The man's presence was striking despite his stillness.
Grey hair jutted out from behind the porcelain mask; a dog's face, its painted markings of red and black curling around the eyes, sides, and mouth. His attire was standard but stark; the sleeveless shirt clung to his frame, baring the ANBU tattoo inked dark against his left shoulder.
"Hokage-sama," the shinobi intoned. Minato's brow lifted. "What did I tell you about that?" His voice was calm, but the faint sharpness carried through.
"When it's just the two of us, you call me Sensei."
The ANBU didn't flinch, didn't bow deeper. He merely continued, tone unchanged. "You have a visitor."
Minato exhaled, long and tired. The half-hour he had promised himself was slipping through his fingers like sand.
"A visitor, now of all times…" His hand rubbed at his temple. "Who is it?"
"The Yamanaka clan head," the operative answered.
That drew Minato's full attention. His gaze sharpened as his mind worked. 'Inoka? Why now?' He recalled yesterday's council meeting, all the clan heads present, all matters formally settled. There had been no hint then of unrest or urgency. For her to seek him personally tonight meant something unusual.
'Is there trouble within the clan? 'His senses stretched subtly outward, brushing against the faint markers he had placed throughout the village. He located the ones near the Yamanaka compound, untouched, unflared. No immediate danger, then.
"Let her in," he said finally.
The ANBU flickered away in a blur, the silence settling once more. Moments later, a brisk knock echoed from the office door.
"Come in," Minato called.
The door slid open, and Yamanaka Inoka stepped inside. Age had touched her gently, but her presence filled the room with quiet authority. Her hair, a soft dirt-blonde, was pulled into an elegant bun streaked faintly with silver. Her pale eyes held the weight of wisdom, and her robes — simple but refined — spoke of tradition and dignity.
"Good evening, Hokage-sama," she said with a slight bow.
"Inoka-sama," Minato replied warmly, rising to greet her. "It's good to see you. Please, sit."
They exchanged the customary pleasantries as she settled across from him. Minato's smile softened. "How are Inoichi and Jun doing? It's been a long war; I hope peace is treating them well."
Inoka's lips curved faintly. "I am grateful. The end of the war has been a blessing. Inoichi has proven himself; he carries the mantle of Jōnin with pride. And Jun has returned safely as a Chūnin. For a mother, that is enough."
Minato nodded. Relief shimmered in his gaze. "That's wonderful to hear."
Her eyes twinkled as she shifted the topic. "And what of you, Hokage-sama? Or should I say groom-to-be? How are the wedding preparations faring?"
He chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Let's just say… I've left most of the planning in Kushina's capable hands."
"Wise of you," Inoka said, amused.
The moment of levity faded as she straightened slightly. "But I did not come tonight for pleasantries. Hokage-sama, I seek your counsel regarding an orphan."
That gave Minato pause. His brows rose. "An orphan? Forgive me, Inoka-sama, but that seems… a matter beneath your station. Why bring this to me directly?"
"Because this child is special," she replied evenly.
Minato's curiosity sharpened. "Special how?"
Her voice lowered. "He is of mixed blood. His father was a Yamanaka. His mother was... an Uchiha."
Minato leaned back slowly, fingers steepling. His mind whirred through implications before he finally asked, "This child's name?"
"Satoru," she said. "He has been under the care of the orphanage until recently. Today he began his lessons at the Academy."
Minato's expression tightened. "And… has he awakened the Sharingan?"
A flicker of regret crossed her features. "He has." She quickly added, "But we approached him before that knowledge came to light. Our interest was not tied to the dōjutsu. We seek to strengthen our numbers... especially after the war, nothing more."
He was quiet, studying her face. The firmness in her words couldn't fully mask the tension.
She pressed on. "His father was of our clan. His mother, though Uchiha by blood, was not a kunoichi. She bore no position within their ranks. By all rights, his ties to them are shallow."
Minato sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Even so… the Sharingan is no shallow thing. The Uchiha will not let this pass without raising their voices. You know this."
"I do," Inoka said simply. "That is why I bring this to you. To prevent discord before it begins."
His eyes softened, but his tone remained firm. "Then I must listen to both sides. Including the boy himself. Until then, I can make no ruling."
For the first time, her gaze cooled, though her expression never wavered. "I understand," she said, rising gracefully. "I will await your judgment."
With that, she inclined her head and departed, leaving the room colder in her absence.
Minato remained still for a moment, staring at the door. Then he leaned back, exhaling heavily.
'This… will be a storm. Unless the Uchiha simply turn their backs on the boy. If they don't want him…'
He shook his head.
'Please, let them not want him. That would save me from having to choose against them.'
The last light of sunset had vanished. Minato pushed himself up from his chair, stretching his tired shoulders. His cloak trailed behind him as he moved to extinguish the lanterns.
"Enough for today," he murmured. And with a final glance at the scrolls left behind, he stepped out into the night.
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