Chapter 89 Extra: The Thousand-Handed Brothers (Part 2)

The Thousand-Handed Brothers (Part 2)

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In your understanding, there is no such thing as "love at first sight".

That's nothing more than a sophisticated disguise for desire, a veneer of the strong for their prey's whims.

A powerful figure like Hashirama Senju...

You paused for a moment to think.

Hashirama Senju didn't do anything too extreme to you that day, perhaps because he was afraid of scaring you.

He merely touched the corner of your mouth with his lips, as if savoring the rim of a fragile vessel.

He said, "We can take it slow. Feelings can be cultivated gradually."

You sneered inwardly. Who wants to take things slowly with him?

At this moment, you stand atop the highest tree on the Senju clan's land, the night wind rustling through your hair. Below, the land that should have been the future Hidden Leaf Village is now merely a forest and wilderness where the two clans' forces are locked in a fierce struggle. Judging from the ages of Hashirama and Tobirama, the birth of Hidden Leaf Village has only been a few years away.

If Hashirama Senju wanted to escape this era, he would at least have to flee to a place where the Land of Fire couldn't establish diplomatic relations, such as a remote small country like the Land of Snow.

However, the subtle chakra perception flowing beneath the tree, like invisible threads, coiled around you layer by layer. Those were Hashirama's eyes, gentle yet omnipresent. Within the clan's territory, you could still move about; but once you approached the border, those respectful yet unquestionable figures would silently appear, escorting you back to the Senju clan head's residence.

"You should return to the clan head's residence." In the darkness, the Senju clan ninja knelt on one knee, his posture as humble as ever.

You turned away silently. The corridor was deep and dark, and moonlight flowed like a pale river on the wooden planks. Then, you noticed—behind you, the presence almost blended into the shadows, without a trace of chakra fluctuation leaking out.

"If you dare turn around, I'll kill you."

It was Tobirama Senju's voice.

His voice was low and suppressed, with a hint of abnormal, heavy breathing.

You didn't turn around, nor did you respond; you simply quickened your pace. Only when you stepped into that room that belonged to you, yet where every inch exuded the presence of others, did the pressure behind you recede like a tide.

In the dead of night, a knock on the door startled you from your light sleep.

You clutch the kunai under your pillow and walk barefoot to the door.

The moment the door was flung open, the kunai pierced straight for the opponent's throat—"Clang!"

His wrist was easily seized, and the kunai fell to the ground. Tobirama Senju stood outside the door, his white hair gleaming coldly in the moonlight, but his face was flushed with an unnatural redness. He was panting, and the blood in his eyes was deeper than usual, surging with a kind of almost beastly heat.

“I was accidentally poisoned on the battlefield,” he said in a hoarse voice, his gaze piercing as if he wanted to devour you alive. “The poison has been neutralized, but the side effects won’t go away.”

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, you shoved him aside and rushed toward the entrance—just a few steps away.

But it crashed hard into a solid chest.

You stand frozen in the shadows of the entryway, your back slamming against a hard, burning chest.

He had already laid down the mark of the Flying Thunder God—the entire Senju mansion was his prison.

Tobirama Senju's voice was low and husky, his breath hot against your ear: "So eager to throw yourself into my arms, Uchiha?"

You struggle, but he grabs your wrist and pins you against the cold wall.

He grabbed your chin with his other hand, forcing you to look up at him.

The moonlight slanted across half of his face. His usually aloof face was now flushed with an unnatural redness, and the bloodshot in his eyes was deeper than usual, surging with an almost violent heat. His white hair was scattered messily on his forehead, a few strands damp with sweat, clinging to the side of his taut neck.

You see his Adam's apple bob, and his knuckles gripping your wrist so tightly they turn white—not to suppress you, but to suppress something more turbulent.

"Let go." You squeezed out the two words through gritted teeth.

He chuckled softly, his breath brushing against your lips.

The next second, the world spun around.

Before the back of his head hit the cold floor of the entryway, a hand cushioned his impact—it was Tobirama Senju's hand.

The actions were rough, yet contained the last vestige of instinctive restraint, which was then broken.

He straddled you, easily pinning your struggling hands above your head with one hand, while his other hand untied the belt of your dark blue tribal robe. The subtle sound of the belt slipping was amplified in the deathly silent entryway, the silk spreading like faded bloodstains, revealing a blindingly pale body beneath. Moonlight sparingly squeezed through the crack in the door, spreading out coldly. Your body was slender, your chest heaving with youthful innocence, your waist so thin it seemed it would break at any moment. Your abdomen was flat and smooth, gleaming with a soft, fragile sheen in the moonlight.

Tobirama's breathing became noticeably heavier. He leaned down, his blood-red eyes fixed on you: "Are you twenty years old yet?"

You did not answer; your body trembled uncontrollably.

[Edited]

The taste of rust lingered between their lips and teeth, making it impossible to tell whose blood it was.

[Edited]

"You bastard!" you gasped as you cursed him, but your voice was so soft it had no power whatsoever.

[Edited]

"Open your eyes." He stopped moving, his voice icy. "Look at me."

The torment of unfulfilled desire forced you to open your eyes—in your blood-red eyes, three tomoe slowly rotated due to intense emotion and pleasure, yet without the slightest fluctuation of any eye technique. Exquisite features, a beautiful face, skin as white as fresh snow, paired with eyes as crimson as his… though they were Sharingan of the Uchiha clan.

[Edited]

Tobirama stared into your eyes and suddenly sneered, "Three-tomoe Sharingan... yet you're a piece of trash who can't even use any eye techniques."

The sealed eye technique has rendered your Sharingan merely a pair of decorations that have been passively manifested due to intense emotions.

[Edited]

"I'm back! Tobirama, Koyuki—"

The door to the entrance was opened.

Hashirama Senju stood at the doorway, his cheerful smile frozen on his face.

The moonlight illuminated the overlapping figures in the entryway—what was his younger brother doing with the girl he had fallen for at first sight?

Tobirama stopped what he was doing, turned to look at his elder brother, and asked in a frighteningly calm voice, "Brother, have you finished dealing with the clan affairs?"

Hashirama's gaze slowly swept over you—

The smile on his face gradually disappeared, and something was settling and churning deep in his eyes.

Then he smiled.

It wasn't his usual cheerful smile, but a slow, deliberate laugh with a cool, detached quality.

“Oh dear,” he said slowly, taking off his coat and loosening his belt, “Tobirama, you’ve really… left me with a bit of a problem.”

You stared in horror at his muscular upper body, the muscles beneath his wheat-colored skin smooth and firm.

You think you'll die, you absolutely will.

So big...

They're not even the same size...

"Don't keep staring," Hashirama approached with a smile, his fingers tracing your sweaty cheek. "I'll get shy."

But there was no shame in his eyes, only a bottomless, chilling possessiveness.

"No, no... people will die!"

He lowered his head and kissed your lips, swallowing all your feeble resistance.

The tongue forcefully invades, prying open your teeth and wantonly scours every inch of your mouth.

[Edited]

"Big brother, I'm done."

"Hmm," Hashirama responded, but his gaze didn't leave you.

[Edited]

“It’s very tight…” he smiled, but his eyes were icy cold, “but there are other people’s things inside, so it’s still a little unpleasant.”

[Edited]

Tobirama lowered his eyes, neatly folded your clothes and placed them aside, his tone respectful: "Yes, elder brother. There won't be a next time."

[Edited]

"Tsk," Hashirama leaned down and licked away the tears from the corner of your eyes, his voice filled with a pleasant panting, "I've only just begun, Yuki."

The night is still long.