"Minato-sama—"
"—Minato!"
Seeing him sway, Yorin couldn't help thinking, holy crap, don't you dare die on us.
Their wayward student was even more infuriating than the two Uchiha had imagined.
If Minato actually keeled over from anger, there'd be no clean way out. Worst case, some kid would fling the door open right now, point at them and shout, "Murder! Shisui and Yorin from the Uchiha killed the Fourth!" Then no matter what they said, they'd be branded guilty and have to bolt from Konoha as missing-nin.
Thankfully, Minato didn't die. Shinobi are tough: even after consecutive all-nighters, being relentlessly squeezed by Kushina, getting hit with one terrible piece of news after another, being guilt-tripped by the Third, and pestered nonstop by Danzō—he still wasn't dead.
He did feel momentarily weightless, but the invincible Minato didn't actually collapse.
Beyond the traitorous pupil, the real reason he felt faint was sheer overwork.
The Hokage's workload is brutal, and with the Third Great Ninja War just over, the follow-up never ends; rebuilding Konoha has a thousand loose threads.
Minato wished he could split into eight. After nonstop high-intensity overtime, his body and mind were completely tapped—like Kushina had wrung him out eight hundred times. Even the sun looked green.
"I'm okay. Have you told anyone else about this?"
He finally came around and, with Yorin and Shisui's help, sat on the sofa by the Hokage's desk. Before he'd even settled, he asked, on edge.
"Relax—only Shisui and I know. And Obito seems to be moving in secret, calling himself Uchiha Madara. With his power, few could see through him."
"Good… good. You two step out for a bit. I need to be alone and think…"
He muttered, eyes turning into a pie chart of clashing emotions.
Shisui, ever the honest one, moved to take his leave as ordered.
Yorin, less so.
Yes, Minato needed a moment to process the news Yorin brought and think about next steps—but before that, Yorin had one more thing to say:
"Dealing with Obito isn't just your burden, Lord Fourth—it's our Uchiha clan's responsibility too.
We'll work with you on this. Obito isn't only your student; he's our clansman."
"…Mm."
Minato was touched, at least a little. You could tell, though, that this era's Minato was still pretty guileless—he didn't catch the subtext in Yorin's words.
He would, eventually.
Two things bind people together:
Shared ideals—and shared crimes.
The ideal of revitalizing Konoha and protecting the village is something Minato shares with many.
But covering up the wayward pupil Uchiha Obito—making sure that secret never sees daylight—that's the shared crime between him and the Uchiha.
"My commercial-empire plan should get green-lit soon.
From here, Minato will tilt more toward, favor, and rely on the Uchiha.
The Uchiha will become 'his own people.'"
Thinking that, Yorin's mood soared.
Obito, Akatsuki—sure, the Uchiha drew a bad hand this time.
Doesn't matter. With the right play, even a bad hand wins.
After leaving the Hokage's office, Shisui was heavy-hearted over Obito—he even regretted not jumping in with Yorin; maybe two-on-one would've gone better. He planned to hash it out with Yorin—about the clan, about the Hokage…
But when he turned, he saw Yorin grinning and couldn't help asking:
"Yorin-nii, what are you so happy about?"
Uchiha Yorin: "Because starting today, the Fourth will be a steadfast ally of the Uchiha.
We finally have 'our own' in the top ranks."
"?"
Shisui didn't know the "shared crimes" principle, so he thought Yorin was laying it on thick.
Out on a public street wasn't the place to debate it; he figured they'd talk at home.
Yorin didn't give him the chance.
"You handle reporting to the clan head."
He said it while turning the other way.
"Yorin-nii, where are you going?"
Watching Yorin's cheerful back, Shisui called out.
"Obviously—the orphanage."
"…"
"As expected of Yorin-nii."
Shisui was genuinely moved by that answer.
Maybe someone like Danzō would suspect ulterior motives.
But Shisui wasn't Danzō; he simply believed Yorin was visiting the kids—adding a brick to Konoha's harmony and happiness.
"As I thought, Yorin-nii carries the Will of Fire! I've got to step up too."
Smiling, Shisui turned to find Fugaku and make his report.
About what happened in Rain, Yorin wouldn't hide it from the Fourth—and wouldn't hide it from Fugaku either.
He's not Danzō, and it wasn't his mess—what's there to hide?
These are our people; speaking plainly beats mutual suspicion any day.
Take the orphanage, for instance.
If everyone were as innocent as Shisui, thinking Yorin goes there to do good—peace on earth.
Or step back: someone like Kakashi assumes he goes to flirt with the pretty, busty, bespectacled director. Worth a ribbing, but fine.
The real problem is Old Man Danzō.
He thinks Yorin and Nono Yakushi are plotting—and that the plot targets him.
That's the headache.
Because guess what?
The old man's right.
Yorin and Nono are plotting against Danzō—
No—taking down a relic like Danzō isn't a "plot"; call it righteous excision, healthy turnover—draining the clotted blood.
…
"Want to go out for a bit?"
Under the encouraging looks of everyone at the orphanage, the blonde woman with glasses gathered her courage and invited Yorin out.
"Ah—mm, sure. Let's go."
To the kids' cheers, Yorin accepted. The two grabbed a bite at a nearby restaurant, then—carefully—went to a slightly farther inn to rest.