Ikaros had been silent throughout the encounter.
Yet Orochimaru stirred in her a familiar unease—a shadow of those who once commanded her to slaughter humans.
She didn't like it.
"Everyone finds joy in different things," Shen Mo said, gazing at Ikaros with a warm smile. "For someone like Orochimaru, Ikaros, would you hate them?"
"Hate…" Ikaros clutched her watermelon tighter, then shook her head.
She didn't want to hate anyone.
"You just don't want to be forced into things that make you unhappy," Shen Mo said, standing to cradle her face, looking into her eyes. "But you wouldn't try to stop others from pursuing their own happiness, right?"
"…If," Ikaros tilted her head, whispering, "it doesn't harm Master…"
"If that day comes, I'll count on you to protect me," Shen Mo said, pinching her cheek playfully.
"But Master is stronger than Ikaros," she replied, a hint of disappointment in her tilted head.
"Then protect yourself," Shen Mo said, his eyes crinkling with a smile. "That's how you protect my heart."
Ikaros froze, her cheeks slowly flushing.
No one had ever spoken to her like this.
An urge welled up to draw closer to her master.
But—
Her watermelon blocked the way.
"Hahaha!" Shen Mo burst into laughter at the sight of the fruit wedged between them. Ikaros, unsure why he was laughing but sensing it was at her expense, lowered her head, looking a bit aggrieved.
Her rare emotional flickers, typical of her stoic nature, were all the more touching.
"Tomorrow, we'll watch our clients' stories unfold," Shen Mo said, ruffling her hair with anticipation. "They all chase their own dreams, and those dreams will clash. But… who knows? Maybe through the collisions, they'll start to merge."
In a way, Shen Mo's work mirrored Orochimaru's vision.
He'd crafted a stage where death held no finality.
Be it conflict or vengeance, even death left no lasting regrets if disputes could be resolved. Like Haku and Naruto now—Shen Mo had spotted them strolling together, sharing ramen, practically best friends.
As the original tale suggested, without enmity, they'd have been close companions.
Ikaros nodded thoughtfully.
Compared to other artificial angels, she seemed naive, even detached from human nature. But it wasn't ignorance—she feared understanding, haunted by the lives she'd taken as a weapon. The more she understood, the deeper her pain.
Yet now, Shen Mo was her anchor.
If she could one day embrace her past, it would mark the success of Shen Mo's True Sky Queen training plan.
Glancing at her watermelon, Shen Mo tapped it lightly. Invisible ripples spread across it, inside and out.
"I've fixed its state," he explained to her puzzled look. "Watermelons rot over time, but now this one won't. Still, you can set it down sometimes—I don't pat your head every moment, do I?"
Ikaros carefully placed the watermelon on a cushioned stand, forcing her gaze away.
Her eyes soon locked onto Hiju's round, fluffy form, staring intently.
"Meow—!" Hiju sprang up, her little face wary as she glared at Ikaros.
Shen Mo left their playful tussle alone, settling at the dining table to browse the system for dinner options.
The next day, the long-awaited third round of the Chūnin Exams began.
A grand spectacle, the arena was a sea of spectators.
Konoha's citizens, ninja, and dignitaries from various nations filled the stands. Though only Konoha and Sunagakure participated among the great ninja villages, nobles from smaller nations flocked to the event, drawn to the excitement.
Shen Mo and Ikaros sat in the VIP section, their view unobstructed.
A subtle spell ensured no one noticed them.
Shen Mo scanned the crowd.
The Kazekage and Hokage sat prominently in the stands. Tsunade, as head of the medical corps, stood near the entrance tunnel below. Surprisingly, Jiraiya was by her side.
Then there were Uchiha Itachi and Kisame Hoshigaki.
Shen Mo's gaze flicked to them, disguised boldly with Transformation Jutsu, tucked in an unassuming corner of the stands.
Their audacity was staggering.
With this lineup, if they were spotted, even they couldn't escape unscathed.
"Master…" Ikaros tugged at Shen Mo's sleeve, uneasy amidst the roaring crowd. "Why are they so excited?"
"Ikaros, humans carry a primal thirst for violence in their blood," Shen Mo said, taking her hand and resting it on his knee, as if to soothe her. "But most temper it with reason and emotion—that's what sets humans apart from mere beasts."
"They… find joy in violence?" Ikaros murmured, piecing it together. "Artificial angels, too… some revel in it."
She was, after all, forged as a weapon. A few battle-hungry angels were no surprise.
"But you have reason and emotion, too," Shen Mo said with a smile.
Ikaros seemed ready to say more, but a deafening cheer erupted.
The first match had begun.
Shikamaru versus his future wife.
"Look," Shen Mo whispered in Ikaros's ear. "There's someone who hates violence."
On the field, Shikamaru's lethargic demeanor clashed starkly with Temari's fiery vigor.
If anyone claimed they'd one day be married, the crowd would scoff.
One lazy, one explosive.
Though Shen Mo knew the anime's outcome, watching it live was a different thrill. He was engrossed, and Ikaros, gripping his hand tightly—whether caught in the arena's energy or relating to Shikamaru's reluctance—stared unblinkingly.
It felt oddly like taking a girl to the movies.