He had been content enough to let Itachi reach out to his mysterious benefactor, and hadn’t asked for their identity, though the curiosity nipped at him. He didn’t ask about his loved ones the entire way there either, he remained quiet, didn’t complain, and reacquainted himself with the world. The constant movement made his muscles burn but after being cooped up for so long, he welcomed it. Minato had tried to keep himself as fit as possible while imprisoned but given his restraints there was only so much he could do. Still, the food and restful sleep were helping him by leaps and bounds even if it had been a couple days. Kurama’s aid was especially appreciated or else he wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t have dropped by now. At the question, a frown overtook his features.

“I suppose that depends on if you want to run the risk of me being recognized this soon.” As he was.

Itachi sighed. “You make a good point. If you stand around in the light, you will draw eyes. Wait here, outside.” Though the risk of being recognized was low in these rural areas with mostly local civilians, it wasn’t unthinkable that a ninja or ex-ninja was hiding here. Itachi had become too reliant on Kisame, for always pointing out when it was unsafe to speak. Now without Kisame’s warnings, Minato nearby, he felt safer than before. But that brought danger. He had almost forgotten that the Hokage’s face had been carved into the mountain, and any Konoha shinobi would recognize the barely-aged Minato. Low risk of recognition, high damage. He overthought all of this while he entered the inn, closed the door, and began negotiating with the burly innkeeper about dinner and a room. He insisted on having the room with the narrowest two-person bed. But he didn’t need Lord Fourth Hokage to overhear he was bargaining for that.

Meanwhile, a crow arrived with a reply. It circled the inn. It hopped on the roof. It looked at the door. It cried quietly to get Minato’s attention. Then the animal jumped on Minato’s shoulder. Crows were big, and this one was especially big and heavy–an old battle crow. It held a tiny roll of paper in its claw: a reply from Itachi’s contact. The crow glanced at the door. It combed it’s beak against Minato’s hair. Then it grabbed the paper roll in it’s beak. It pushed the roll insistently against Minato’s collar bone. The message was for him. The crow glanced back to the door. Then it pushed the message against Minato’s chest more insistently. It really was for him.

“Do you think he knew?”

Minato didn’t ask, because quite frankly he was afraid of the answer.

‘I don’t know. We’ll stay on our guard regardless.’

“You sound so unsure. Don’t be an overly trusting fool and hesitate. He may be your Sensei, but his Sensei is the one that locked us up, don’t forget. Not to mention he is a seal master like yourself, so the threat he possesses is even more so.” Mentally, Minato ran a hand through the fox’s fur, in an attempt to soothe both of them.

‘…I know. I won’t let us be locked up again, Kurama. I promise.’

“And be careful of that damn Uchiha brat, he’s scheming.”

‘Oh?’

“Nothing dangerous but still annoying.”

Right then. Minato wasn’t going to think too hard about the implications of that as he checked if the crow wanted a reply. He wondered if Jiraiya-sensei still had his seal…and he wondered if he used it, if it would be leading him right into a trap. He idly pet the crow, mindful of his fingers, before he sent a single reply.

..- -. -.…-. … - — — -.. .-.-.-

They went to the room at the end of the hallway. It was small, brown, and smelled like spirits and laundry detergent at the same time. Itachi checked the room, then settled down. He tugged open his cloak. Then he lay down on the bed. He put an elbow over his eyes. Extreme fatigue of both his illness and the travel began to settle in. The odd tension he felt around Minato’s presence also didn’t help. He said: “I told the innkeeper you’re as hungry as a wolf. I hope you don’t mind that, and a bigger portion.”

Pause.

“I need to nap, like yesterday, or I’ll throw up from fatigue.” He toed off his sandals. “I’m not feeling so well. Wake me up when food arrives.”

I mean, Konoha sucks when it comes to handling mental health issues from the start so Minato had no way of knowing how to handle anything like that, he was genuinely worried and wanted to help Kakashi but he didn't know what to do, he thought that the only way he can keep a close eye on him is by putting him in Anbu so he can be directly under him as the Hokage but unfortunately, Kakashi was very good at covering things and pretending that he was okay and tbf he didn't have much time after that to fix that mistake because few months after putting Kakashi in Anbu and even tho all Kakashi's Anbu teammates were reporting that Kakashi was fine and there was nothing wrong with him once Gai told him that he thinks Kakashi isn't fine, he didn't doubt Gai for even a second and he immediately gave Kakashi the mission of protecting pregnant Kushina to take him away from Anbu without having Kakashi suspecting anything and right after that, he and Kushina died so we never got a chance to see what he was planning to do with Kakashi next .

Before Minato there was Hiruzen who saw a traumatized depressed 5 years old child who had to witness his dad being murdered by the Shinobi system and then got brainwashed into thinking that the only way to restore his honor was by fixing his dad's mistake by following the rules and instead of trying to actually help him, knowing exactly what the problem was, never trying to talk to him as the Hokage and tell him that his dad wasn't a traitor or trash or a coward like everyone made him believe he just threw him to 15 years old Minato and was like, that's it, he's your problem now

Minato seems to be so mischaracterized sometimes.

He is a kind man who is dutiful to others and loves the people in his life dearly.

He is also remembered for being a phenomenal killer because he is (despite his kindness) a vicious and decisive soldier.

I’ve seen so many people look at other characters (Itachi, Kakashi, etc) and say that they were broken by the child-soldier system but we could say the same about Minato and no one seems to say it!

Minato would have been happy as a stay-at-home husband with a loving child and wife that had friends surrounding him. Instead he is elevated and remembered for his ability to kill instead of his love.

He had been content enough to let Itachi reach out to his mysterious benefactor, and hadn’t asked for their identity, though the curiosity nipped at him. He didn’t ask about his loved ones the entire way there either, he remained quiet, didn’t complain, and reacquainted himself with the world. The constant movement made his muscles burn but after being cooped up for so long, he welcomed it. Minato had tried to keep himself as fit as possible while imprisoned but given his restraints there was only so much he could do. Still, the food and restful sleep were helping him by leaps and bounds even if it had been a couple days. Kurama’s aid was especially appreciated or else he wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t have dropped by now. At the question, a frown overtook his features.

“I suppose that depends on if you want to run the risk of me being recognized this soon.” As he was.

Itachi sighed. “You make a good point. If you stand around in the light, you will draw eyes. Wait here, outside.” Though the risk of being recognized was low in these rural areas with mostly local civilians, it wasn’t unthinkable that a ninja or ex-ninja was hiding here. Itachi had become too reliant on Kisame, for always pointing out when it was unsafe to speak. Now without Kisame’s warnings, Minato nearby, he felt safer than before. But that brought danger. He had almost forgotten that the Hokage’s face had been carved into the mountain, and any Konoha shinobi would recognize the barely-aged Minato. Low risk of recognition, high damage. He overthought all of this while he entered the inn, closed the door, and began negotiating with the burly innkeeper about dinner and a room. He insisted on having the room with the narrowest two-person bed. But he didn’t need Lord Fourth Hokage to overhear he was bargaining for that.

Meanwhile, a crow arrived with a reply. It circled the inn. It hopped on the roof. It looked at the door. It cried quietly to get Minato’s attention. Then the animal jumped on Minato’s shoulder. Crows were big, and this one was especially big and heavy–an old battle crow. It held a tiny roll of paper in its claw: a reply from Itachi’s contact. The crow glanced at the door. It combed it’s beak against Minato’s hair. Then it grabbed the paper roll in it’s beak. It pushed the roll insistently against Minato’s collar bone. The message was for him. The crow glanced back to the door. Then it pushed the message against Minato’s chest more insistently. It really was for him.

“Do you think he knew?”

Minato didn’t ask, because quite frankly he was afraid of the answer.

‘I don’t know. We’ll stay on our guard regardless.’

“You sound so unsure. Don’t be an overly trusting fool and hesitate. He may be your Sensei, but his Sensei is the one that locked us up, don’t forget. Not to mention he is a seal master like yourself, so the threat he possesses is even more so.” Mentally, Minato ran a hand through the fox’s fur, in an attempt to soothe both of them.

‘…I know. I won’t let us be locked up again, Kurama. I promise.’

“And be careful of that damn Uchiha brat, he’s scheming.”

‘Oh?’

“Nothing dangerous but still annoying.”

Right then. Minato wasn’t going to think too hard about the implications of that as he checked if the crow wanted a reply. He wondered if Jiraiya-sensei still had his seal…and he wondered if he used it, if it would be leading him right into a trap. He idly pet the crow, mindful of his fingers, before he sent a single reply.

..- -. -.. . .-. ... - --- --- -.. .-.-.-

Neither were prepared for the laughter that bubbled from Minato’s throat, smooth like champagne yet startling to the birds perched overhead. His hand snapped up to cover his mouth to muffle it until they calmed to hiccupping chuckles. Blue eyes crinkled, as he peered back at Itachi without fear and even with his palm in the way it was easy to tell he was smiling. He lowered it and gestured. When he spoke he was still a bit breathless. “M-My apologies, Itachi-san. I didn’t mean to laugh. But I meant it only on a technicality,” he grinned. “I’m all too aware of those things, believe me, but officially, I am still declared legally dead and therefore *can’t* be the acting Hokage just yet. At least not until we’ve proven to the right people that I’m not an imposter and actually alive. And even if I wasn’t, if two kages were alive at the same time, typically most would call the predecessor by their numbered title to avoid confusion.” Konoha had only a brief period of time when the Sandaime and Yondaime were both alive and most referred to the former as Lord Third, or Sandaime-sama, and addressed the current kage as Lord Hokage or Hokage-sama. Still, the sass only proved that Itachi was indeed his father’s son for how sharp-tongued Fugaku had been. His features smoothed over like clay as his hands rested in his lap. He made a solemn promise to him.

“…Worry not. I will carry out my duties faithfully, protecting and acting in the best interests of Konoha’s people.” Minato could hear the conviction in his voice, and perhaps it said something about how weak his own ideals were, or perhaps such experiences couldn’t be measured in their suffering, but one simple fact remained.

He was not the same man that had supposedly died all those years ago.

Minato shared similar goals, and ideals…but the difference between them was that the former Hokage wasn’t going to go blindly to the slaughter again in the name of ideals. What were those vague concepts in the face of his dead wife, or his son who was all but a stranger to him? A student who had no doubt been suffering almost in total loneliness ever since his own supposed demise? What was the will of fire in the face of real, flesh and blood people and their suffering? In his hour of need, someone he admired and depended on the most in that moment betrayed him and showed him who he really was under the mask. An old man that saw an opportunity to grab power back. He did not know the full story of Uchiha Itachi, but he suspected that at the very least, the young man had known from the beginning what sort of monsters he had to deal with.

Minato had been foolish enough to be completely blindsided.  

Itachi inclined his head forward in a small bow that acknowledged the vow. He had no choice but to continue to trust the Hokage. He ended his small bow that acknowledged the vow. “Surely some record must exist that you are alive and imprisoned, as even Black Projects need financing. Your prison had guards and a building, solely dedicated to you.” He raised his shoulders and his coat hid his cheeks so his narrowed eyes could peer over the edge. He squinted. Then he said:  “It’s just a matter of racing. If word of your escape reaches Konoha before we do, then the Council of Elders may stall their appointment of Shimura Danzo. But if word of your escape reaches Root-commander and Hokage-elect Shimura Danzo before we do…. then he will likely destroy the Black Projects’ hidden money trails. Then he can discredit us.

“Therefore… we might do well to play a different race. That of your authenticity. But for that, we need to work on your verisimilitude. You need to look your best. That means weapons, and some tailor-made clothes, fitting gear. And eventually, a bath. It will cost some money. More than I have on me, now. I know someone who has that kind of money. He has easier access to withdrawing more, than I do. I will request a meeting, but he may reject.” He wrote a short note and gave it to a crow. The big bird hopped from Itachi’s lap, onto his arm, onto his shoulder, onto on top of Itachi’s head. Itachi’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Then the bird took off. It flew away. It left Itachi with a loop of hair that stuck up at the top of his head, near his hair band, like a cow-lick. He tried to push it flat the best he could. “Tch.” Whatever.

They packed up, and resumed their journey. And as Minato walked beside him, Itachi thought a lot about the laugh that the Hokage had suddenly done, earlier. He thought about Minato’s laughs and his vow often.

Itachi didn’t realise that the Minato he had set free onto the world, was very different from the Namikaze Minato before his imprisonment.

(…)

They were at the edge of the country. The only shops sold food or seeds or civillain tools, no ninja tools. Ninjas hardly ever came here, and they were far away from the frequently-travelled roads. In the evening, Itachi decided they should retire for the night–it was entirely possible that Minato would have muscle ache, or be very tired. He’d been in prison after all.

how could sarutobi look at sasuke in the eye knowing what happened to his clan and go about and pretend everything was okay? how could he look naruto in the eyes, after promising his parents he’d take care of him, only for naruto to be shunned by the entire village? when sasuke met sarutobi again after edo-tensei I’m surprised he was so calm… and then naruto, to minato, was like I respect sarutobi? 

As he raised his head to look at him properly, his sensitive ears heard him swallow, not once but twice, but saw no need to bring attention to whatever emotions the young man may be feeling. He was fairly certain Kurama’s presence could enhance his sensor abilities to include things like emotions, they had yet to test how far their teamwork would go in the field for obvious reasons, but it would be eye-catching, and even worse, invasive. Minato scratched the back of his neck. That additional insight would be quite useful given the mixed signals Itachi was giving him, first calling him father of all things, even half asleep, and then…what happened later. He felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment and no small amount of guilt. Perhaps even, a hint of burgeoning anger because despite all that he didn’t know, one thing was becoming clear:

Somewhere along the way, someone or several someones had taught Uchiha Itachi that what he wanted did not matter.

“It was.” His response was staggered by the silence, by the unfinished sentence, and his mind snagged on the beginning of it. Next time? What?

“…We’ll talk it out. And Itachi?” He only continued when he had his undivided attention. “…No matter what it is, unless it puts your life in danger of course, I will never ignore your wishes. Given what happened it may take time for you to accept that, if you ever do, in the end that is your choice, but…I will always accept ‘no’ as a complete answer.” He looked away then and rested back on his palms, his cup abandoned and empty. He tried to end on a lighter note. “Although it may be a bit too early to be calling me Lord Hokage just yet.” A smile tried to curl the ends of his lips.

“Early?“ Itachi asked. “Unfortunately for you, it’s too late to cast doubt on whether you carry that title or not. Your head has been etched into the Hokage Mountain, and your portrait hangs in the Hokage office, your name is in the academy books. The title of Hokage, like the title of shinobi, comes with duties and responsibilities. What we think of those, and whether we want them, is irrelevant. For us, ‘no’, is never a complete answer. For the word ‘no’ often shifts and thereby enlarges the rejected problem. To shinobi like yourself and me, personal boundaries are second to the welfare of the village, or the international peace. To summarize, I will acknowledge your preferences, unless it puts your purpose in danger, of course. And I expect that you treat me the same, Lord Fourth. Given what happened it may take time for you to accept that, if you ever do.”

There was some sass in this by repeating Lord Fourth’s words, but also he spoke with a lot of idealogical conviction. Surely Minato would notice the strong ideological undertones echoed the Founding Act,  as written by the First Hokage, and held held up by the village as its core text during the early peace period. Itachi admired Hashirama Senju a lot. Minato’s kindnesses weren’t attacking his personal space boundary–they were questioning Itachi’s worldview of puppet-like self-sacrifice; one worldview that he had expected Lord Fourth to share.

“…Worry not. I will carry out my duties faithfully, protecting and acting in the best interests of Konoha’s people.” Minato could hear the conviction in his voice, and perhaps it said something about how weak his own ideals were, or perhaps such experiences couldn’t be measured in their suffering, but one simple fact remained.

He was not the same man that had supposedly died all those years ago.

Minato shared similar goals, and ideals…but the difference between them was that the former Hokage wasn’t going to go blindly to the slaughter again in the name of ideals. What were those vague concepts in the face of his dead wife, or his son who was all but a stranger to him? A student who had no doubt been suffering almost in total loneliness ever since his own supposed demise? What was the will of fire in the face of real, flesh and blood people and their suffering? In his hour of need, someone he admired and depended on the most in that moment betrayed him and showed him who he really was under the mask. An old man that saw an opportunity to grab power back. He did not know the full story of Uchiha Itachi, but he suspected that at the very least, the young man had known from the beginning what sort of monsters he had to deal with.

Out of habit, Minato fell into an old pattern. Five things he could see: the blue teacup, the clouds overhead, Itachi’s cloak, the remnants of their shared meal, the trees. Four things he could feel: the grass, the warmth of the tea through the ceramic, the breeze against his face, the weight of his unfamiliar clothing, picked over from dead men. Three things he could hear: the Uchiha’s voice, the scrambling of a squirrel clawing its way up a nearby oak, the soft clink of the kettle as it was set down, its purpose served. Two things he could smell, though he wished he didn’t: the blood, the grime, from his prison that lingered just beneath the surface. A change of clothes did help, but it was no replacement for a proper bath or shower. Minato was just grateful he had been allowed that privilege because privileges could be taken away, relatively recently before he was rescued. He belatedly added the scent of tea to the list, it wasn’t one he particularly favored but it was present, grounding.

One thing he could taste: tea, for the simple fact that once he had become aware again, and the consequences of what did happen and what almost happened percolated in his mind, well, it may as well have turned the food to ash the moment it hit his tongue. A dark part of his mind that sounded too much like condescending old men crooned that such measures were useless, in the face of things like genjutsu. Especially those of the Uchiha caliber that could just as easily tear reality as he knew it asunder, and he may not be the wiser. He wanted to be upset about that, really, he did, especially given what happened the last time someone had taken his choices away, and yet…in the face of what may have occurred, that Itachi felt ‘no’ wouldn’t have been accepted, all he could feel was a burning shame. Kurama was more…disapproving but then, Minato supposed, the fox entity had more reason to be upset with the Uchiha and his clan than his host did.

All the while, he stayed quiet, and listened. He took another sip of his tea.

Itachi’s presence seemed to flicker like a candle once he figured out what he wanted to say and how to say it. But it was what he didn’t say or almost said that Minato caught within the shadows of that flame. With care, the blond set down his cup, and a beat of silence passed as he wanted to make sure Itachi was finished illustrating his point, lest Minato accidentally interrupt him. His words were carefully chosen, straight-backed in their stance, but soft so as not to barrel too blindly into any mine fields.

“Itachi. Being touch-starved does not excuse my actions. I am apologizing because I put you in a very uncomfortable position. From my perspective, I can only guess you may have felt a ‘no’ wouldn’t have sufficed and instead chose to use genjutsu to diffuse the situation, and I am so sorry I caused you to feel that way.” He bowed his head. “Given your past experiences and my own abhorrent behavior, I can’t say I blame you for being wary of receiving kindness. You call it ‘benevolent attitude,’ I prefer common decency, or at least my best attempt at it. Your situation may be unique but that does not make you any less my responsibility, from a kage to one of their shinobi.” His gaze was steady, his head slightly cocked. And it made him sick to think he may have abused that promise of protection and leadership.

“There is no shame in letting your guard down in the presence of someone you think or…perhaps thought trustworthy.” He didn’t get the sense that Itachi was afraid of him, or shrinking away, but Minato had learned not to trust himself too easily after all these years. After all, he had once thought of Sarutobi and Shimura trustworthy enough to have the best intentions of the village at heart all those years ago, and it was too late before he realized they all had different ideas of ‘what was best’ meant. His voice softened further.

“That is not a failure on your part, but on mine in this instance.”

I can see why my parents liked you.

“Please raise your head, Lord Hokage.” Itachi had to do his best to speak at all. He tried to keep his face straight, normal. The lump in his throat wouldn’t go away–and swallowing a second time didn’t seem to help.

He had seen straight through him. Again. Either the Fourth had phenomenal insight, or Itachi was slipping. Either could be true.

 Somewhere along the way, someone or several someones had taught Uchiha Itachi that what he wanted did not matter.

 “It was.” His response was staggered by the silence, by the unfinished sentence, and his mind snagged on the beginning of it. Next time? What?

RP - SS rank

Exhaustion seemed to taint the Uchiha’s chakra, it was unsurprising given he had put him and kept him under a genjutsu for a still undetermined amount of time, but…well. It wasn’t the sort of tired one would first think of, because Minato recognized it in himself.

It was the kind that not even sleep could cure.

He watched him work with blank, calculating eyes before taking a seat. The blond would halve the meal before claiming one part for himself. When he saw that the rest was still untouched, he wasn’t concerned about potential poisoning. Itachi had gone through too much work and had too many plans for that to be a resort, Minato reasoned to himself. Once he finished he brushed off his hands.

“I apologize for earlier.”

Read back this roleplay in chronological order on [page 1] and [page 2]. “Why? There’s no need for you to apologise,” Itachi said as he poured them a cup of tea each. “Let’s go over the events. I broke you out of an unjust imprisonment. I asked you to sleep in a bed with me that was too narrow.”

Now, this next part was difficult to phrase. So he took his time. The kindnesses and attention Minato bestowed on Itachi yesterday mystified him. The odd sensation in his stomach had made him glance at the jinxed-and-dazed Hokage repeatedly during their morning walk. He had often recalled the Hokage’s laugher–the laugh of a man who isn’t used to laughing. Now they were sitting cross-legged on the grassy field, in an almost formal manner, waiting for the genjutsu to wear off. Therefore Itachi had the time to recall his prepared words. He leaned over. He gave Kisame’s blue teacup to the Hokage. 

I overlooked the possibility that “You likely are touch-starved, t-” too. He almost slipped up. He exhaled. He took his own tea cup and he cradled it in his hand. “As I said last night, the world hasn’t been kind to me. I find it difficult to accept your benevolent attitude and righteous intentions.”

 The Hokage made him feel safe. So blissfully safe.

One thing he could taste: tea, for the simple fact that once he had become aware again, and the consequences of what did happen and what almost happened percolated in his mind, well, it may as well have turned the food to ash the moment it hit his tongue. A dark part of his mind that sounded too much like condescending old men crooned that such measures were useless, in the face of things like genjutsu. Especially those of the Uchiha caliber that could just as easily tear reality as he knew it asunder, and he may not be the wiser. He wanted to be upset about that, really, he did, especially given what happened the last time someone had taken his choices away, and yet…in the face of what may have occurred, that Itachi felt ‘no’ wouldn’t have been accepted, all he could feel was a burning shame. Kurama was more…disapproving but then, Minato supposed, the fox entity had more reason to be upset with the Uchiha and his clan than his host did.

All the while, he stayed quiet, and listened. He took another sip of his tea.

Itachi’s presence seemed to flicker like a candle once he figured out what he wanted to say and how to say it. But it was what he didn’t say or almost said that Minato caught within the shadows of that flame. With care, the blond set down his cup, and a beat of silence passed as he wanted to make sure Itachi was finished illustrating his point, lest Minato accidentally interrupt him. His words were carefully chosen, straight-backed in their stance, but soft so as not to barrel too blindly into any mine fields.

“Itachi. Being touch-starved does not excuse my actions. I am apologizing because I put you in a very uncomfortable position. From my perspective, I can only guess you may have felt a ‘no’ wouldn’t have sufficed and instead chose to use genjutsu to diffuse the situation, and I am so sorry I caused you to feel that way.” He bowed his head. “Given your past experiences and my own abhorrent behavior, I can’t say I blame you for being wary of receiving kindness. You call it ‘benevolent attitude,’ I prefer common decency, or at least my best attempt at it. Your situation may be unique but that does not make you any less my responsibility, from a kage to one of their shinobi.” His gaze was steady, his head slightly cocked. And it made him sick to think he may have abused that promise of protection and leadership.

“There is no shame in letting your guard down in the presence of someone you think or…perhaps thought trustworthy.” He didn’t get the sense that Itachi was afraid of him, or shrinking away, but Minato had learned not to trust himself too easily after all these years. After all, he had once thought of Sarutobi and Shimura trustworthy enough to have the best intentions of the village at heart all those years ago, and it was too late before he realized they all had different ideas of ‘what was best’ meant. His voice softened further.