A Haggard Minato Namikaze, Iwagakure Strikes While the Iron Is Hot

The lingering rays of the setting sun streamed through the wide windows of the Hokage Office, yet they could not dispel the oppressive atmosphere that had settled inside.

Seated behind his desk, Minato Namikaze pinched the bridge of his nose, deep shadows of exhaustion beneath his eyes.

Files were piled up like mountains, pressing on his heart like silent accusations.

Amid that heavy, stagnant air, the office door was quietly pushed open.

"Senior, you really did come back." Minato looked up, his voice carrying a trace of barely perceptible relief.

He saw that familiar figure—Minamoto Takuya, travel-worn yet steady in his stride, walking in.

Minamoto Takuya's gaze passed over the piled-up battle reports and fixed directly on Minato's overly haggard face.

He did not immediately ask about the war. Instead, he frowned deeply, his concern plain to see. "Minato, are you alright? Your complexion... is terrible."

Minato's body stiffened almost imperceptibly. Then he forced up the corners of his mouth, trying to produce a reassuring smile, but it was stiff and bitter. "Hm? I'm fine, Senior."

The response was pale and unconvincing.

Minamoto Takuya stepped closer and condensed a mirror made of water, placing it before Minato.

Even Minato was stunned when he saw his reflection in the water. He knew he was not in good shape, but he had not expected it to be this bad.

"If you can't manage it, don't force yourself. Go get some rest. No matter how much the village needs its Hokage, the Hokage can't let his duties run him into the ground," Minamoto Takuya advised.

Minato let out a long breath, as though trying to expel all the suffocation in his chest, then slowly shook his head.

"It's not because of that..." he hesitated, his voice fading. The words turned over in his