While Gin was busy preparing a wedding gift, the intense "confrontation" on the battlefield was winding down.
Since both sides had received prior notice not to actually fight, they could only resort to what they weren't particularly good at: verbal sparring.
"What's with your Senju guys? That weak, huh?"
A handsome Uchiha youth waved away the honest punches of his Senju opponent with a smirk, his sarcastic tone making the other grind his teeth in frustration.
"You glib Uchiha types are all talk. The Senju are famous for our stamina—we're not like you flashy but hollow pretty boys!"
Even a mud statue has a temper. The honest Senju youth racked his brain and finally came up with a comeback.
"Hmph! Flashy or not, wanna test it?"
At the rear of the Senju camp, in a finely adorned tent, a tall, black-haired woman in a white wedding kimono sat anxiously.
Senju Momoka's delicate hands were tightly clenched together, her pale knuckles betraying the anxiety she felt.
"Isn't this a bit too fast?"
Having been swept into becoming the bride of the clan leader, Senju Momoka was still trying to process her new role.
Just two days ago, while patrolling with her unit, she received a sudden transfer order to the clan leader's office.
She thought she was in trouble—especially since the person who met her there was none other than the cold-eyed second-in-command, Tobirama.
Remembering a certain scandalous moment she had accidentally witnessed in the woods, she thought he was there to silence her.
But surprisingly, Tobirama merely looked her up and down, asked a few questions, then reluctantly nodded and said this mission was critical to the clan's survival.
Frowning deeply, Tobirama scanned the tall, graceful woman before him. Though displeased, he recalled her background and asked,
"Senju Momoka, I remember you stayed at our house for a while as a kid, right?"
"Yes, Tobirama-dono. My father was once the clan leader's guard, so I had the honor of staying at the clan residence."
Unable to meet his crimson eyes, Momoka bowed her head respectfully.
"What did you think of us back then?"
His tone was cool and probing. Tobirama wanted to know what kind of impression his older brother left on her.
"Um... I apologize, I was of low status back then and had little contact with the young masters, but—"
She hadn't expected such a question. After thinking, she replied truthfully.
And then, an image of a lively, short boy popped into her mind.
"But what?"
Seeing her hesitate, Tobirama grew impatient.
"Well... Itama-sama..."
Thinking of the little black-and-white-haired boy who used to cling to her, Momoka's eyes softened with nostalgic warmth.
But just as she spoke the name, an intense aura cut her off.
"Don't mention that name!"
Tobirama's voice burst with rage and sorrow. His fists clenched, and his aura turned suffocating. The pressure made it hard for Momoka to breathe.
Am I gonna die here?
Knees trembling, her life started flashing before her eyes—but just as suddenly, the pressure vanished.
Soaked in cold sweat, Momoka looked at him with newfound fear.
"Sorry... I lost control."
Tobirama calmed down and—rarely—apologized. He waved a hand for her to turn around.
Confused, Momoka complied, spinning in place.
"Mhm. Good. She's got the birthing hips."
Tobirama, who had crammed a lot of reading on the topic the day before, evaluated her thoroughly. Compared to his references, she was a perfect match.
"Alright, you can go now. Someone will visit you soon."
After vetting her for his beloved brother, Tobirama dismissed her with a tired wave.
"Huh?"
Still confused, Momoka quickly left. As she approached the door, a tall figure appeared.
"Clan leader-dono!"
She quickly bowed to Hashirama.
"Haha, Momoka! Long time no see."
Unaware of his own impending wedding, Hashirama smiled warmly.
"I remember little Itama used to love playing with you."
Momoka blushed and nodded. She hadn't expected him to remember that.
"Well, compared to us rough guys, of course he'd rather play with someone like you."
Hashirama's eyes turned soft, then melancholic. His shoulders sagged slightly.
"Anyway, Tobirama needs me. Let's chat another time."
And with that, still in the dark, Momoka returned home to wait for Tobirama's so-called important task.
"What?! You want me to marry Momoka?!"
In the clan leader's office, Hashirama's jaw dropped so low he could've swallowed a watermelon. His eyes were full of betrayed disbelief.
"I've gone through every eligible woman in the clan. By family background, looks, body, and personality, Senju Momoka is the top choice."
Tobirama completely ignored his brother's shocked face. He handed him a thick stack of documents.
"Seriously, Tobirama?"
Hashirama looked at the heavily annotated profiles with disbelief.
"Even if that Uzumaki woman broke off the engagement, this is a bit much."
Tobirama grumbled about Mito, then turned his fierce red eyes on Hashirama.
"To stop you from developing wandering thoughts, you need the anchor of family responsibility."
"Wha—what are you talking about? I don't understand..."
Hashirama patted his brother's shoulder nervously, a weak smile on his face.
"You don't need to. Just marry her."
Tobirama, well aware of his brother's thought process, made the final decision.
"I don't want to—"
"You do!"
Seeing his brother's aggressive stance, Hashirama gave in.
"Sigh... Actually, this is for the clan. We're at a critical point in the war with the Uchiha. A happy occasion might lift our people's spirits and help them prepare for the next fight."
"Wait, it works like that?"
Hashirama scratched his head, eyes full of confusion.
"Of course, Onii-san~"
"When do you want to hold it?"
"The sooner the better."
No time to delay.
"Huh? That fast? But we're still fighting! What about Madara?"
"Why do you care about him? Oh, right—go invite him."
Mentioning Madara made Tobirama grumpy, but the idea of messing with that infuriating Uchiha cheered him up. He even chuckled darkly as he sent Hashirama off.
"Got it!"
The next day, Hashirama showed up to Madara's location riding his giant wooden Buddha, grinning as he handed him a wedding invitation.
"You're getting married?"
Madara looked stunned, crushing the invitation in his hand. His red eyes were full of disbelief.
"Yup! Tomorrow! Hahaha, looks like I win again!"
Hashirama grinned wide, the brightness of it making Madara squint in pain.
"We're still at war!"
Madara's fan-wielding arm pointed furiously at his rival.
"I know. That's why I'm here—to talk."
"We single dogs have nothing to say to showoffs like you!"
Madara huffed angrily, nose in the air.
"Come on, I'm just asking if we can avoid bloodshed tomorrow. Afterward, I'll set a table on the battlefield and toast you and your brother."
Hashirama rubbed his hands together with rare earnestness.
Even though their clans were locked in endless blood feuds, to him, Madara was still his dearest friend.
A wedding wouldn't feel right without his blessing.
"Please, Madara!"
Hashirama's giant wooden construct moved with him, retreating a few steps and performing a grand 土下座 (dogeza) — forehead slamming into the earth so hard the ground shook.
"I'll even bow to you if that's what it takes!"
(End of Chapter)
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