202. Determined

While Uchiha Gin was busy preparing his gift, the heated verbal exchanges on the battlefield were reaching their climax.


Since both sides had been informed not to engage in physical combat, they resorted to a different kind of duel—an intense war of words.

"Is the Senju clan always this weak?" sneered a handsome Uchiha, brushing aside the clumsy punches of a hulking Senju warrior. His sharp eyebrows furrowed in mock disdain as he taunted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You're all talk! The Senju are renowned for their endurance, unlike your flashy Uchiha—useless beyond appearances!" retorted the Senju warrior, his face red with anger as he desperately tried to come up with a witty comeback.

"Hmph! If you think we’re useless, why don’t you test us and find out?" the Uchiha snapped, his smirk growing wider.

Meanwhile, in a tent located at the rear of the Senju camp, an elegant figure with long black hair sat nervously. Dressed in a pristine white wedding kimono, Senju Momoka clasped her pale, slender hands together, her knuckles whitening from her tension.

"Isn’t this all happening a bit too fast?" she muttered to herself, still reeling from the abrupt changes in her life.

Just two days earlier, Momoka had been patrolling with her subordinates when she was suddenly summoned to the clan leader’s office. She had expected routine instructions but instead found herself face-to-face with the cold, stoic Senju Tobirama.

The sight of Tobirama instantly reminded her of a certain shocking incident she had accidentally witnessed in a secluded forest. Convinced that he was there to silence her, Momoka panicked, only for Tobirama to appraise her with a sharp, scrutinizing gaze.

After a few curt questions, Tobirama reluctantly nodded and informed her of an "important mission" crucial to the clan’s survival.

His piercing red eyes bore into her, making her lower her head respectfully as she answered his questions.

“Yes, Lord Tobirama. My father once served as the clan leader’s guard, so I had the privilege of staying at the clan residence as a child.”

"And what was your impression of us back then?" Tobirama asked coldly, wanting to gauge her perception of his elder brother.

Momoka hesitated, caught off guard by such an ancient topic. After some thought, she answered truthfully.

"I must apologize, my lord. At the time, I was of low status and had little interaction with the young masters of the clan. However…"

She trailed off, her thoughts drifting to a memory of a small, lively figure who had once followed her around.

"However what?" Tobirama demanded impatiently, his face darkening as he leaned closer.

"Well… Lord Itama," Momoka began, her voice softening with nostalgia as she recalled the cheerful boy with his distinctive black-and-white hair.

But before she could continue, a chilling aura filled the room.

"Do not mention that name!"

Tobirama’s voice thundered as bloodlust radiated from him, his fists clenched tightly. The sudden oppressive pressure made Momoka’s knees buckle, her mind flashing with panicked thoughts of her impending death.

But just as quickly as it came, the pressure vanished.

"Apologies. I got carried away," Tobirama said, his tone neutral once more as he exhaled deeply. He eyed Momoka, who was still trembling, and motioned for her to turn around.

Confused but compliant, Momoka obeyed, spinning in place under his watchful gaze.

"Hmm… good. Suitable for childbirth," Tobirama muttered to himself after a thorough evaluation.

Having recently crammed knowledge on the subject, he concluded that Momoka fit the ideal profile. Satisfied, he waved her off.

"That will be all. Go home and wait. Someone will come to you in a few days," he declared, his voice dismissive.

"Wait… what?" Momoka stammered, her head swirling with unanswered questions. But intimidated by Tobirama’s stern demeanor, she hurriedly left the room.

As she neared the exit, she encountered a tall figure entering the building.

"Greetings, Lord Hashirama!" she exclaimed, bowing deeply to the clan leader.

"Ah, if it isn’t Momoka! Long time no see," Hashirama said with his usual jovial warmth.

Still unaware that his marriage had been decided for him, Senju Hashirama greeted Senju Momoka cheerfully.

"I remember back when we were kids, Itama really liked you. He always enjoyed playing with you."

Momoka was surprised and excited that Hashirama still remembered those childhood memories. She nodded enthusiastically.

"Well, it’s no wonder," Hashirama said with a soft smile, his eyes briefly reflecting a hint of warmth before shifting to melancholy. "Compared to us rough guys, it’s only natural that Itama would prefer your company. After all, you were both…"

His words trailed off as his expression turned despondent, a subtle aura of sorrow enveloping him. He sighed deeply. "Let’s not talk about this now. Tobirama needs me for something. Let’s catch up another time."

Still puzzled, Momoha obediently returned home, awaiting Tobirama’s so-called important task.


---

"What?! You want me to marry Momoka?"

In the clan leader’s office, Hashirama’s mouth hung open wide enough to fit a watermelon. He stared at his younger brother in disbelief, his eyes full of betrayal.

"I’ve screened all eligible women in the clan. Based on lineage, appearance, physique, and personality, Senju Momoka is the ideal candidate," Tobirama replied matter-of-factly, completely ignoring Hashirama’s stunned expression.

He pulled a thick stack of files from his drawer and tossed them onto Hashirama’s desk.

"Tobirama, isn’t this a bit much?" Hashirama protested, still reluctant.

"That Uzumaki woman broke off the engagement, but as clan leader, your marriage is a matter of utmost importance," Tobirama snapped, his tone sharp.

After muttering a string of curses at Uzumaki Mito, Tobirama turned to Hashirama with piercing red eyes that brooked no argument. "To prevent you from harboring any unseemly thoughts outside the clan, the stability of a family is absolutely necessary."

"Hey, Tobirama, what are you implying? I don’t understand what you’re saying," Hashirama said nervously, laughing awkwardly as he patted his brother on the shoulder.

"You don’t need to understand. Just do as I say and get married," Tobirama replied coldly, fully aware of his brother’s escapist tendencies.

"But I don’t want to—"

"You do!" Tobirama interrupted forcefully.

Seeing his brother’s unyielding stance, Hashirama realized he had no choice but to give in.

"Honestly, I’m doing this for the good of the clan," Tobirama explained. "The war with the Uchiha is reaching a critical point, and our people are physically and mentally exhausted. A celebratory event like this can lift their spirits and prepare them for the battles ahead."

"Wait, it’ll really have that effect?" Hashirama asked, scratching his head as his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Of course!" Tobirama declared.

"So… when are we doing this?" Hashirama asked with a resigned sigh.

"In a few days. We must act quickly to avoid complications," Tobirama replied.

"That soon? But we’re still at war! What about Madara?"

"Why bother with him? Hmm… Actually, go notify him," Tobirama said with a strange smirk. The thought of irritating Uchiha Madara with this news suddenly seemed appealing.

"Alright," Hashirama agreed.


---

The next day, riding atop his massive wooden golem, Hashirama excitedly found Madara and handed him an invitation.

"You’re getting married?" Madara asked, baffled, as he accidentally crumpled the invitation in his hand. His crimson eyes were filled with disbelief.

"Yes! Tomorrow!" Hashirama beamed, his radiant smile only infuriating Madara further.

"We’re in the middle of a war!" Madara exclaimed, pointing his war fan at Hashirama in frustration.

"I know! That’s why I’m here to discuss something with you," Hashirama said.

"We single folks have nothing to say to you smug married types!" Madara retorted, his voice dripping with indignation.

"Come on, Madara! I just wanted to ask if we could avoid bloodshed tomorrow. After the fight, I’ll set up a table in the middle of the battlefield, and we can share a drink together," Hashirama pleaded, his eyes filled with rare sincerity.

"Madara, please!"

As he spoke, the wooden golem beneath him shifted, kneeling on the ground in a classic dogeza pose. Its massive head slammed into the earth, causing a tremor.

"I’ll even bow to you if that’s what it takes!" Hashirama exclaimed, determined to win his friend’s support.