Nobunaga looked at her. The moonlight fell upon her face, making her eyes shine brightly.
It was a very pure light, devoid of Mei Terumī's hatred and Temari's obsession.
She was just a girl who didn't know where to go in this chaotic world and wanted to find a companion.
"Let's go," he said.
Karin's eyes lit up. She ran over and followed behind him.
The two of them walked across the wilderness, one after the other.
The moonlight was bright, casting their long shadows behind them.
They hadn't walked for long when Karin suddenly stopped.
"What's wrong?" Nobunaga asked.
Karin did not answer. She stood there, her face pale and her lips trembling slightly.
"Someone is chasing us. Very fast. Extremely fast." Her voice trembled, "That person knows Space-Time Ninjutsu."
Nobunaga's heart sank.
The next second, space distorted.
A figure appeared out of thin air before them.
Tea-gold hair, white eyes, covered in wounds, yet standing steadily. Temari.
There were several new tears in her clothes, a deep burn on her arm, and blood dripping down from her elbow.
Yet she stood there, looking at Nobunaga, that quiet fire still burning in her eyes.
"Teacher," she began, her voice very soft, "come back with me."
Nobunaga did not speak. Karin stood behind him, her hand already quietly pressing against a Kunai, but her hand was shaking.
Temari glanced at Karin. It was a short, light glance, but Karin's face turned even paler.
She did not move, nor did she retreat; she just stood there, blocking in front of Nobunaga.
Temari withdrew her gaze and looked back at Nobunaga.
"I won't let you leave me again."
Nobunaga took a deep breath: "Temari, I am not going to the Hidden Sand Village."
Temari's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
Nobunaga looked at her. The moonlight fell on her face, softening her silhouette, just as it was in his memories.
But what was in those eyes was not what he remembered.
The Temari in his memories would chase him at the Training Ground, asking, "Teacher, how do I practice this Ninjutsu?"
She would bring her two younger brothers on his birthday to give him a burnt cake.
She would stand at the village entrance, watching his back, saying, "Teacher, I will always be here."
She would wait for him for a lifetime.
But she wouldn't use the Flying Thunder God to kidnap him, nor would she look at him with that kind of gaze.
That gaze was as if she were looking at something that belonged to her.
It wasn't a student looking at a teacher; it was a person looking at something they had waited for far too long.
"You have changed," Nobunaga said.
Temari's eyelashes trembled. "What?"
"You have changed," Nobunaga looked at her, "The Temari in my memories is not like this."
Temari fell silent.
The moonlight fell between the two of them, very bright, very cold.
"The Temari in your memories."
She spoke, her voice very soft:
"Is that little girl who stood at the village entrance waiting for you to return.
Is that little girl who cried alone in front of your grave for a day and a night after you died.
Is that little girl who hid your photo under her pillow and talked to it every night."
She took a step forward.
"She waited for a very long time. She waited until the Hidden Sand Village was gone, until the Ninja World was in chaos, until she became the Kazekage, until she conquered the entire Ninja World. She was still waiting."
Her hands clenched: "She waited too long. She waited until she was no longer that little girl."
Nobunaga looked at her, looking at what was in those eyes.
It was not hatred, nor was it madness.
It was waiting for too long, grinding one person into someone else.
He thought of that world; when he died, Temari was only twenty years old.
How long had she lived alone?
Thirty years? Forty years? Fifty years?
He dared not think about it.
"So, Teacher."
Temari's voice was very soft, so soft it was like coaxing a child, "Come with me. I will take you back to the Hidden Sand Village. I will protect you, for a lifetime."
Nobunaga stood there, motionless for a long time. Then he shook his head.
Temari's expression changed.
That layer of softness shattered, revealing what lay beneath. It was not anger, but a very deep, indescribable feeling.
"Teacher." Her voice changed, becoming very soft, very gentle, but what lay hidden underneath made one's spine chill. "Do not defy me."
Nobunaga's heart sank. He looked at her, at this fifteen-year-old face, at the obsession in those eyes.
He confirmed one thing:
The girl he knew, the one who stood behind him, was gone.
That girl had waited for him for a lifetime, waiting until she became the person in front of him.
"System."
He shouted in his heart. There was no response.
"System, come out."
Still no response.
"I know you can hear me.
Tell me, what is going on?
Why did Temari become like this?
Didn't you say the second simulation wouldn't have any problems?"
Silence.
Only the sound of the wind and the chirping of night birds in the distance.
Temari took a step forward. Karin's hand pressed against the Kunai, but her hand was shaking.
"Teacher, I'll ask you one last time." Temari's voice was very soft, "Come with me."
Nobunaga looked at her. Then he shook his head.
The last bit of softness in Temari's eyes shattered.
She raised her hand, and Chakra surged.
Sage Mode was activated again; the golden light was exceptionally blinding in the night.
"Then don't blame me." Her voice was very cold.
She rushed forward. As fast as a beam of light.
Nobunaga did not dodge, nor did he have time to dodge.
He could only watch as that golden light drew closer and closer, brighter and brighter.
Then, a figure blocked in front of him.
A Kunai flashed, precisely cutting into the node of the golden light. It was not an attack, but an interruption.
Space distorted again; the Flying Thunder God was forcibly interrupted.
Temari staggered back a step, looked up, her eyes full of killing intent.
"You—" She began, then stopped.
The person blocking in front of Nobunaga was Karin.
No, it was not Karin.
The red-haired girl stood there, her tea-brown long hair changing color from the roots, slowly lengthening into a waterfall of tea-colored hair.
The round-rimmed glasses shattered, revealing the emerald green pupils beneath.
Her figure elongated and grew taller.
Karin had disappeared.
Standing there was the Fifth Mizukage, Mei Terumī.
Temari's pupils constricted violently. "You—"
"Little girl," Mei Terumī's voice was cold, as cold as a blade, "did you think that was my real body just now?"
Nobunaga stood behind her, looking at that back.
Tea-brown long hair, emerald green pupils, and that ninja sword that had once pressed against his heart and had also pierced through his heart.
He suddenly felt very tired. Not physical fatigue, but the kind of exhaustion that welled up from the bottom of his heart, suppressed for too long.
Haven't I only simulated twice?
How has this turned into a yandere battlefield?
Mei Terumī did not turn back. She just stood there, blocking in front of him, the tip of her blade pointed at Temari.
"I have chased him for so many years," her voice was very calm, "from the Hidden Mist to Konoha, from dreams to waking life. It was not so that you could take him away."
Temari looked at her. "Do you think you can stop me?"
"You can try."
The two stared at each other. The night wind blew across the wilderness, whipping up dust and scattered leaves.
Nobunaga stood there, watching these two women.
Everything seemed to have returned to the starting point; he had run a big circle, and in the end, it seemed he had circled right back.