"Anger," Tatsuma said, his voice tinged with a touch of helplessness, "is the lowest-cost way for people to vent. Everyone carries negative emotions that need an outlet, and anger just happens to provide the easiest opportunity."
He sighed, realizing that whether in his past life or this one, some things never changed. "Let me give you an example; it might make it easier to understand. Suppose one day you're walking down the street and you see a man in rags apprehend a shifty-eyed character. The man claims the other guy stole his money—specifically, money meant for a family member's life-saving medical treatment. How would you feel?"
"I would... I'd be furious at the thief," Minato replied. Then, he paused and looked up, his eyes widening. "I see. In that scenario, I wouldn't actually know the truth. I'd just be swept up in the collective emotion, blindly accusing someone based on a first impression, instantly labeling them a 'thief' without evidence."
Satisfied with how quickly Minato caught on, Tatsuma nodded. "Now, let's look at how a collective will can be manipulated or incited on a larger scale. Suppose a ninja dog from the Land of Wind crosses the border into the Land of Fire and bites a local ninja cat. The cat's owner kills the ninja dog in retaliation. The Land of Wind then demands that the Land of Fire hand over the ninja who killed the dog to be dealt with under Wind's laws. If you were the Hokage, how would you handle it?"
Minato thought it over. "I would argue that the ninja dog attacked the cat first. The Land of Fire ninja only killed the dog in defense of the cat. I'd deny that it was a targeted action against the Land of Wind and refuse to hand over the 'killer.'"
"Alright. But then the Land of Wind claims they invested massive amounts of money and effort into breeding and training that specific dog. They take an even harder stance, demanding not only the killer but also a massive sum in compensation for 'lost training costs.'"
They're clearly just looking for trouble, Minato thought. He realized Tatsuma's example was designed to put the Land of Wind on a moral high ground to squeeze out concessions. Facing such a situation...
Minato imagined himself in the Hokage's seat. After a moment, he said, "A ninja dog worth that much investment isn't just an ordinary animal. Its purpose for infiltrating the Land of Fire couldn't have been just to bite a cat. It clearly had a more sinister objective and was simply caught early. Therefore, I would declare the dog a spy, condemn the Land of Wind for using animals to steal state secrets, and demand compensation from them instead."
"And what if," Tatsuma countered, "the news just happened to 'leak' out? What if the rank-and-file shinobi and the common civilians of the Land of Wind all heard that the Land of Fire killed their dog, refused to apologize, and had the gall to demand payment? What do you think would happen then?"
Minato was stunned into silence. Suddenly, the issue wasn't about a cat and a dog anymore; it had spiraled into a major diplomatic crisis.
He could easily imagine the scenario: the collective fury of the Land of Wind would be ignited. Even if the whole thing felt like a "villain suing the victim" setup, the anger would be real and it would spread like wildfire. Whether the leak was an accident or a deliberate ploy wouldn't matter anymore. The Land of Wind would have used a mere ninja cat as a pretext to issue a war warning.
The most "economical" way to resolve it would be to back down—to appease the Land of Wind by handing over the ninja and paying the fine. But the moment word of that payout got out... the collective will of the Land of Fire would explode in outrage.
At that stage, your only choices are to act even tougher or pay a massive "hush money" bribe. Either way, the Land of Fire suffers.
Minato finally understood the point of the exercise. When one nation is intent on starting a war, the other is on the back foot from the very beginning. To prevent the war, you have to keep giving in to the other side's demands. But the result of such appeasement is that the enemy will only push further, testing your limits time and again until war becomes inevitable anyway—either because you can no longer endure the humiliation, or because they've backed you into a corner.
Tatsuma clearly didn't believe there was a simple way to prevent a war from starting. So, Minato asked the next logical question: "Then... how do you end one?"
"By making happiness, sadness, or fear the dominant collective emotion," Tatsuma explained, shrugging. "The problem is that, aside from sadness, these emotions are rarely shared by both sides at once. Take happiness, for example. Ending a war through 'happiness' usually means one side has achieved a total victory. But the flip side of that victory is the other side's total defeat—they're left in a state of sadness, impotent rage, or absolute terror.
If both sides are drowning in sadness, it's usually because they're evenly matched and have developed a blood feud. They fight and fight until neither has the strength left to lift a kunai. At that point, the people back home who didn't go to the front lines are so consumed by grief that both sides just... stop. They wrap things up poorly and go home.
As for fear... well, the First Hokage and that first Uchiha rebel already proved how that works. But no matter which method you use, it only ends that specific war. It doesn't create a lasting, permanent peace."
Tatsuma shrugged again, finishing his piece. Minato fell into a long, pensive silence. Finally, he spoke with a heavy sigh. "I really want to find a way... a way to make peace last forever."
"My talents aren't up to that task," Tatsuma said. "I'll leave that dream to you. If you ever come up with a plan, let me know."
They had rested long enough. Tatsuma listened to the now-quiet training grounds and stood up. "Let's head back and get some sleep. We have more training tomorrow."
"Right."
Minato forced himself to stand. The joy of his earlier sparring victory had completely vanished, replaced by the weight of their conversation. The two boys walked in somber silence until they reached their parting point.
Under Tatsuma's subtle influence, Minato didn't apply for early graduation right away. Life continued in this rhythm for another six months. By the time the new year had passed—and Tatsuma had been "farming" attributes and talent from Minato for a total of two and a half years—a sudden, catastrophic piece of news cast a suffocating shadow over Konohagakure.
The Land of Whirlpools and Uzushiogakure had been simultaneously besieged by the other four Great Nations. The casualties were astronomical. In a desperate final stand, the Uzumaki clan had released the numerous ninja beasts they had sealed away across the world over the decades, hoping for a miracle.
The result was a tragedy. The Uzumaki, already decimated by the invasion, were unable to control the rampaging beasts. Instead of saving them, the beasts turned on their masters, slaughtering the survivors.
By the time Konoha's reinforcements arrived, Uzushiogakure was a wasteland of ruins and corpses. Not a single living member of the Uzumaki clan could be found, and the legendary treasures and scrolls of the clan had vanished into the chaos.
Tatsuma heard that Hiruzen Sarutobi had issued a formal letter of condemnation to the four Great Nations, but so far, there had been no response.
On the first day of the new semester, Tatsuma and Minato arrived at the Academy on time. However, the seat next to Minato—the one belonging to Kushina Uzumaki—remained empty.
Class started, but Kushina was nowhere to be seen. Just then, Goppu Sarutobi entered the classroom, his expression grim.
"Everyone, please proceed with self-study this morning," Goppu announced. He looked toward the back of the room. "Sakamoto Tatsuma, Namikaze Minato—you two, come with me to the office."