"I want Kumogakure dead!!!"
Those were words Fugaku had constantly been repeating in his fury over the past few days.
Minato and the others barely dared to speak to Fugaku.
Uncle Dave had even called Fugaku a few days earlier to offer his regards.
Minato had listened from the side. He swore that in all these decades, he had never heard Uncle Dave speak so gently to Fugaku. It just sounded so damn smug.
"Fugaku, as a Konoha ninja, you should put romance on hold while the nation is in crisis. I'm sure Mikoto understands, too. I had a good talk with her yesterday. No need to thank me."
"You're a true shinobi, a true practitioner of the will of fire. I have high hopes for you."
"Mikoto's doing very well, so don't worry. I'm doing great, too. Everything tastes delicious these days."
"As the clan leader of the Uchiha, Konoha's greatest clan, you have my recognition, Uchiha Fugaku!"
That endless stream of bullshit pierced Fugaku's already battered, fragile heart like needles.
Remembering that scene, Minato shuddered violently. After Uncle Dave had rubbed salt in his wounds like that, Fugaku's mental state had only deteriorated further.
"Any news on Kumogakure?!" Fugaku hadn't deactivated his blood-red Sharingan once in the past few days. The terrified officer swallowed, not daring to meet his eyes.
"N-no... no..."
"Shit! Go investigate again! Do you think our Uchiha Clan's Sharingan are fucking corns on our feet?!"
Elsewhere.
"Madara! Come on, hurry! I heard there's another new game! Apparently, it's for teams of three. Tobirama's been busy these past two days, so get Izuna and let's go play!" Hashirama shouted excitedly, pounding on Madara's front door.
"Sure. Izuna's probably still asleep. I'll wake him up," Madara said, opening the door and inviting Hashirama inside.
Then