"Isn't it about time? I'm starving!"
After spending half the day in a staged showdown with the Senju, an impatient Uchiha ninja looked back at his clan's leader, eyes filled with irritation.
He had skipped breakfast, holding out all day just to feast at the wedding banquet.
"Tell me about it. Lord Tobirama hasn't given the order, but I saw the tables all set when I came out—shouldn't it have started by now?"
The Senju man across from him looked equally tired. He'd also been acting out a choreographed scuffle all morning and was waiting to dig in. The afternoon sun hung high, and Tobirama still hadn't given the word.
Similar scenes played out all over the battlefield. Some of the more clueless were still mock-fighting "seriously," while the clever ones had found a shaded corner to cool off, waiting for the signal to eat.
"Banquet time! Banquet time!"
Finally, under the expectant gaze of both sides, a pair of runners from each camp shouted the long-awaited command.
"Hell yeah!"
"Damn, I'm more tired than a real battle."
A burly Senju collapsed onto the ground, across from a drenched and scrawny Uchiha. Somehow, the two had been locked in a "perfectly matched" taijutsu battle all morning.
"Hmph! I'm a genjutsu user. If not for the ceasefire, you'd have been dead the moment we met."
The Uchiha sneered, sweat streaming down his forehead, black eyes glinting with menace.
As snide remarks flew, the rich scent of roasted meat and hot sake began to drift across the battlefield. Almost in unison, everyone swallowed hard, packed up their weapons, and headed back to eat.
Just as both sides retreated, a group of Senju ninja dashed out from their camp and began setting up the central banquet area.
"Move fast—the feast starts soon!"
The lead Senju carried a basket of bowls and utensils, urging his team onward.
They quickly arranged benches, tables, and fine dinnerware. Lantern stands went up, red celebratory candles were lit using Katon (Fire Release), and flickering lights dotted the tranquil battlefield.
Though it was already getting dark in this spring-like November in the Land of Fire, the air was far from cold.
Not far off, Uchiha Izuna was watching the preparations and turned to his brother seated in meditation.
"Big brother, they're ready."
"Then let's go. I want to see what kind of woman Hashirama picked for a wife!"
Uchiha Madara opened his eyes. The red glow of the Sharingan faded, leaving only a cold, calculating look. With Izuna in tow, he strode toward the gathering place.
"You done setting up?"
A flash of blue light signaled Tobirama's sudden arrival, his white hair gleaming in the candlelight. He glanced around and asked,
"All done, Lord Tobirama," the lead Senju replied calmly—he was used to the Second-in-Command's ghostlike entrances.
"Then leave us."
As the scent of roasted meat reached his nose, Tobirama resisted the urge to poison the food. He folded his arms and stared toward the Uchiha camp, waiting for the "guests."
"Where's Hashirama?"
Soon enough, two familiar figures landed. Madara, dressed in deep blue with a square gift box in hand, addressed Tobirama coldly.
"What's the rush? Big brother and sister-in-law still have lots to talk about. If you don't want to wait, leave the gift and go," Tobirama replied, unfazed.
"You arrogant bastard—what gives you the right to dismiss us? It was your brother who invited us!"
Izuna jumped in without hesitation, squaring up against Tobirama.
"You turtle-blooded freak! Take off that ugly armor and face me like a man!"
"Oh no, I won't. That'll just make you even mad, won't it? You itching to replace that armor again?"
Ever since Gin gifted him upgraded gear, Izuna had been bursting with confidence. No longer afraid of Tobirama's surprise attacks, the one-time underdog now stood tall and proud.
Thank you, dear cousin!
"That's enough, Izuna. We'll wait."
Madara waved his brother down, though his face remained grim. He sat at the table, casting a long glance at the red candles glowing in the dark.
Across from him, Tobirama narrowed his eyes and slowly sat too, locking into an intense staring match with Izuna.
"Heh. I win!"
After a few moments of dry-eyed staring, Izuna emerged victorious—his Sharingan experience finally paying off.
"I'm an idiot for entertaining such childish nonsense," Tobirama muttered, rubbing his sore eyes.
"Apologies for being late. I'll punish myself with three cups later."
At last, two figures flashed into view—Hashirama, with a sheepish grin, and beside him, a beautiful woman with a clear gaze: Senju Tōka.
"No need to apologize to them, brother," Tobirama said at once.
"Ah~ Tobirama, Madara is my dearest friend, you know!"
Hashirama smiled warmly and turned to Madara.
"Madara, enough pretending. Let me introduce you—this is my wife, Senju Tōka."
Seeing him fake-sleeping, Hashirama didn't hold back. He gently pulled Tōka forward.
"That's her? Hashirama, your taste is really… average."
Madara opened his eyes, staring her down with such intensity that Tōka immediately broke into goosebumps. She unconsciously leaned into Hashirama's side for protection.
"Hmph."
With a cold snort, Madara pushed the gift across the table.
"Aww, Madara, you didn't have to bring anything! But I'll treasure it—thank you!"
Hashirama's grin widened. This was a good sign. Madara's acceptance of the gift symbolized a potential thaw between them.
"Tōka, this is my best friend Madara. Offer him a toast!"
Hashirama cheerfully raised a cup, pulling the still-bewildered Tōka with him.
"Thank you for coming to my wedding, Madara!"
Sincere and smiling, Hashirama toasted his old friend face to face.
"Congratulations, Hashirama."
Madara stared at him for a long moment, then lifted his cup and drained it in one go.
"Haha! Me too!"
Hashirama laughed and drank with gusto.
"T-Thank you all…"
Awkward and flustered, Tōka downed her cup in one go. She had never imagined standing face-to-face with Madara, the legendary Uchiha warrior who could match even her husband on the battlefield.
"You've gained a new family, Hashirama."
Madara raised his cup again, glancing at the nervous Tōka.
"Yes, Madara. I've lost too many. I won't lose any more."
Hashirama clinked cups with resolve in his eyes. He hadn't forgotten his dream—to create a peaceful village where children and families could live without war.
"Still clinging to that fantasy, huh?"
Madara sipped his drink, gaze distant.
"Evil little turtle, where's your curly-haired brother?"
Across the table, Tobirama, still salty about losing the stare-down, suddenly asked Izuna with a sneer.
"What did you say, you dead-faced freak?!"
Izuna, happily chewing some grilled meat, slammed his chopsticks down.
"Going deaf already? I asked where your curly-haired brother is. Last I heard, he survived your dad's iron fist."
Tobirama's red eyes glittered with disdain, and Izuna's forehead vein popped with rage.
"H-Hey guys, please don't fight~"
Poor Tōka, now invisible in the tension, tried to defuse the situation with a weak voice. But neither of the elder brothers batted an eye—they knew their siblings too well.
At worst, they'd fight. No one was dying today.
In Madara's opinion, Tobirama couldn't even break through Izuna's new armor.
And Hashirama figured that Tobirama, now proficient in Hiraishin (Flying Thunder God Technique), could handle anything.
But sandwiched between the two hot-headed youths, Tōka felt helpless.
Then—suddenly—a new presence appeared beside her. Before she could react, a sensual, lazy voice whispered in her ear.
"Wow~ Hello there, Missus. Let me introduce myself: I'm Uchiha Gin. Your future neighbor~"
(End of Chapter)
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