The king is dead, but a cousin cannot inherit before a brother, or before a sister.

There's a monster whispering in Minato's head, curled around his soul. It’s vast and hungry and full of fury, radiates it and basks in it and lets it spill over through the bars that cage it. If Minato had one ounce more energy, he would rage too, but— Anger is a luxury right now, an indulgence. He can't afford it.