Preparation before a long journey

The day of the marriage, like a sword of Damocles hanging overhead, drew inexorably closer. A strange and oppressive atmosphere permeated the Uchiha clan territory, as if preparations were underway for a grand yet joyless funeral.

On the one hand, to demonstrate the Uchiha clan's strength and the importance they attached to the marriage, the clan's interior inevitably began to be decorated. Festive red ribbons, though few in number, were hung from the eaves, strikingly so. Auspicious talismans were posted in some areas, and the kitchen was ordered to produce exquisitely shaped Japanese sweets for the ceremony. But all these superficial embellishments could not mask the heaviness and reluctance that permeated the air. The red color felt less festive than bloody and more like a foreboding omen. No one cared to savor the exquisite pastries. No smiles could be seen on anyone's face, only a tacit solemnity and hidden sorrow. This contrived "festivity" felt more like a thin veil, barely concealing the cold political bargaining and sacrifice beneath, making it seem particularly pale and eerie.

In these final days, Uchiha Aoi became unusually silent and almost numbly submissive. Like a delicate, fragile puppet, its soul drained away, she was at the mercy of the assigned maids and nurses. They measured her, fitting the breathtakingly ornate and complex white wedding gowns and various other designs onto her frail frame, adjusting them repeatedly. They forced her to memorize the lengthy and tedious wedding etiquette, each step, the angle of each bow, even the distance of each stride, with impeccable precision. They piled thick scrolls before her, containing the customs, taboos, genealogies of important figures, and the complex interpersonal relationships of the Night Moon Clan of the Land of Lightning, demanding she memorize them as if they were ninjutsu scrolls.

Among them, information about the man who would become her husband—Yeyue Ai, the eldest son of the Yeyue clan leader and the most likely future heir—was repeatedly emphasized. His hobbies (said to be a lover of cultivation and duels of the strongest), his personality (described as brave, impatient, and straightforward), his supreme lightning escape skills... These cold fragments of information were forced into her mind, trying to piece together an image of a strange husband, but they only deepened her fear and alienation.

She accepted all of this mechanically, with a silent grayness deep in her eyes. Only when she occasionally spent a brief moment with her brother Madara would a trace of human vitality and faint warmth flash through the grayness.

Madara had turned down almost all non-essential clan duties to spend as much time as possible with her. Sometimes he would silently watch her try on her wedding dress, even though the sight pierced his heart; sometimes he would quietly dine with her, even though neither of them could enjoy the food; more often, he would simply sit in the outer room of her room, processing documents, using this silent companionship to tell her that he was still there.

The siblings formed a painful tacit understanding, never mentioning the impending, doomed separation, nor the frustration and humiliation behind the marriage. They simply greedily cherished these stolen, fleeting moments, each glance, each brief exchange, precious beyond measure. Madara would deliberately bring up lighthearted topics, even clumsily recounting embarrassing childhood memories in an attempt to elicit a smile, and Aoi would cooperate, curling her lips in a smile so fragile it was painful.

On the eve of departure, all the clamor and preparations seemed to have finally settled. The incredibly ornate yet incredibly heavy sedan chair sat in the center of the courtyard, gleaming in the cold moonlight like a magnificent coffin waiting to devour something. In Aoi's room, layers of pristine white wedding gowns, glittering jeweled headdresses, and various exquisite dowry items were neatly displayed, ready for tomorrow's donning. A near-stagnant silence permeated the air.

The maids completed the final inventory, retreated quietly, and gently closed the door.

Footsteps echoed, and Madara entered. He dismissed his attendants, leaving the vast room alone, brother and sister, speechless. His gaze swept across the ornate objects that symbolized separation and sacrifice, finally settling on the wedding tiara, nestled in a delicate brocade box. Crafted of gold and jade, it was intricately beautiful, yet it felt like a thousand-pound weight, a stifling weight.

After a long time, Madara spoke with difficulty, his voice sounding unusually dry and hoarse due to suppression: "...Are you all ready?" When he asked this question, even he himself felt extremely pale.

Aoi, dressed in a plain white nightgown, looked like a lamb about to be sacrificed. She sat there quietly, nodding slightly at the words, her face expressionless, only a calmness that bordered on resignation. "Yes."

Another suffocating silence spread between the two of them, so heavy that they could almost hear the tormented beating of each other's hearts.

"I'm sorry, Aoi." Madara's voice deepened, filled with unrelieved pain and deep-seated guilt. "In the end... brother still..." He still failed to protect her and let her go down this path.

Aoi raised her head and looked into her brother's eyes, which were filled with pain and self-blame. She tried very hard, with great difficulty, to force a faint, reassuring smile, even though it seemed so fragile, as if it would shatter at the slightest touch. "Brother, you haven't wronged me. This was my own choice." She paused, her eyes sweeping over the large, prominent boxes in the room, each one bearing a special sealing charm. "Besides, hasn't Brother already prepared so much for me? With these, I will protect myself. I definitely will."

Her understanding, her strength, the words she offered to comfort him now, each one like the sharpest needles, densely piercing his heart, bringing a long, sharp pain. He reached out his hand, his movements incredibly gentle, and gently stroked her long, soft hair, just as he had done when they were children, as if she were still the little girl who needed his protection.

"Once we're there..." His Adam's apple rolled as he tried to form his words, but he found that any warnings seemed so powerless in the face of the vast distance and unknown dangers. "...be careful about everything. The Yeyue Clan values ​​force and has straightforward rules, but they're not completely unreasonable barbarians. When encountering difficulties...be patient for now. Protecting yourself is the most important thing. If you encounter any difficulties or grievances, find a way...find a way to send a message back. Brother...will definitely find a way."

Yet, this promise was so feeble and powerless. Even he knew that once Aoi truly set foot on the territory of the Land of Lightning, the help he could provide, far away in the Land of Fire, mired in the quagmire of war, would be so limited and slow. This promise, knowing it was powerless but still forced upon him, only added to his despair.

"I know, brother." Aoi responded softly, her voice gentle but firm, "You also have to promise me that you will take care of yourself and not rush to the front like you did before, disregarding your own safety... Uchiha, I can live without victory in a battle, but I can't live without you."

As we are about to part, my chest is filled with thousands of words, but they are so heavy that I don’t know where to begin. It seems that no words can express even a fraction of the sadness I feel at this moment.

In the end, Madara simply took a deep breath, pulled out a dark scroll made of a special material that felt cool to the touch, and solemnly handed it to Aoi. The scroll emitted extremely subtle but powerful chakra fluctuations.

"This, keep it close to your body and never show it to anyone." Madara's voice was extremely low, his expression extremely serious. "It contains several defensive and instantaneous sealing techniques that I have improved and that trigger extremely quickly, as well as... a reverse summoning key that is part of my summoning contract. While I can't directly summon you back to me, in the most critical moment, I may be able to forcibly teleport you a random distance, giving you a chance of survival... perhaps, saving your life."

Aoi looked at the scroll, knowing how much effort and worry her brother had put into it. She reached out with a trembling hand and took the scroll, still warm from her brother's body, as if she were accepting an incomparably heavy burden of hope and concern. She clutched it tightly in her palm, as if it were her only hope, and nodded solemnly.

The next morning, the sky was gray and the leaden clouds hung low, making it so oppressive that it was hard to breathe. It seemed as if the heaven and earth were also mourning for this farewell that was destined to have no laughter but only a heavy fate.

The heavy gate of the Uchiha clan's territory was slowly pushed open, making a creaking sound, like a helpless sigh.

The wedding procession was fully prepared. It was guarded by twenty carefully selected, sharp-eyed, and alert Uchiha elite ninja guards, each in front and behind. They were dressed in formal combat uniforms, their expressions solemn, as if facing a formidable enemy. In the center of the procession was the bridal sedan, so ornate and exaggerated it was almost blinding, carried by eight strong bearers.

The elders, led by Uchiha Hunhe, stood in front of the gate and delivered their final, formulaic, hypocritical farewell speeches. Their words were high-sounding but empty.

Aoi appeared. She wore a pristine white wedding gown, intricately layered and beautifully embroidered. The wide sleeves and train felt like heavy shackles. Atop her head, she wore an incredibly luxurious tiara, adorned with pearls and jade, and the swaying hairpins seemed to weigh down her slender neck. Her delicate makeup, an attempt to mask her paleness, only served to accentuate the emptiness and bewilderment in her eyes. Supported by two maids, she walked, ever so slowly, toward the sedan chair, each step a slender step, as if treading on a knife's edge.

Madara stood at the front of the crowd, his figure as tall and straight as a lone pine or cypress, his expression as cold as a frozen lake, seemingly impassive. Only his hands, clenched tightly behind his back, their knuckles white and trembling slightly, betrayed the turbulent waves and extremely suppressed pain he was experiencing.

Aoi paused in front of the ornate sedan chair. She slowly turned, her gaze passing over the crowd of people with varying expressions, past the hypocritical elders, and finally, deeply, deeply fixed on Madara's face. That glance, complex as a vast ocean, contained too many emotions to express in words—endless reluctance, deep worry, a mortal resolve, and a faint, almost invisible, final plea for her brother's protection.

Madara met her gaze, his jaw set, and gave her a very slight, almost imperceptible nod. It was a promise, a silent oath.

As if drawing the last ounce of strength from this action, Aoi retracted her gaze, took a deep breath, bent down, and resolutely entered the ornate golden cage. The heavy curtains of the sedan chair were lowered, completely isolating the inside from the outside, and also preventing the two siblings from looking at each other for the last time.

"Set off!"

Uchiha Shingen, the Uchiha Jonin who was in charge of escorting the team, gave orders in a loud voice filled with chakra, and his voice echoed outside the empty clan land.

The team slowly began to move, like a heavy python, and began to sail out of the Uchiha clan territory, embarking on the long and dangerous road to the unknown, uncertain outcome of the marriage.

Madara stood there, like a frozen statue, staring at the receding procession for a long, long time, until the long procession became a blur of black dots and finally disappeared completely at the end of the horizon. The aura emanating from him was so cold and dead that it seemed as if even the air around him was frozen. Only in the depths of his deep eyes, in a moment when no one could see, a violent storm rolled, capable of destroying everything.

"Have the guards who have been following secretly set off?" He asked in a low and hoarse voice to his confidant who was like a shadow beside him.

"Reporting to the clan leader, we have already set off. According to your highest order, we must maintain the optimal support distance of three miles. All personnel must be on the highest level of alert and be ready to intervene at any time." The trusted ninja quickly reported in a low voice.

Ban nodded almost imperceptibly, but the strong sense of unease in his heart lingered like a ghost, undiminished in the slightest. He always had an extremely strong and ominous premonition - this marriage would never be so smooth. Beneath the calm surface, there must be a deadly undercurrent.