Gentle Bridge
The morning light, faintly visible through the cracks between the newly foliaged leaves, cast dappled specks of light across the cobblestone streets of Konohagakure. Uchiha Aoi gently pushed open the paper door of the Ninja Academy classroom, a scent of wood and ink wafting across her face. She took a deep breath and neatly placed the lesson plan she had brought on the podium.
For her, this classroom was more than just a place to work; it was a small miracle. Here, the Senju and Uchiha children sat side by side, mingling with children from other clans. Their young faces, untouched by the shadows of clan feuds and family hatreds, filled Aoi with a sense of almost sacred responsibility.
"Good morning, Mrs. Aoi." A soft voice came from the door.
Aoi turned around and saw a Senju girl about six or seven years old standing there timidly, holding a cloth bag tightly in her hand.
"Good morning, Hotaru." Aoi squatted down to look at the girl. "Are you here alone today?"
The girl nodded, then shook her head: "Brother, walk me to the door..."
Aoi understood. She knew that many Senju parents still had concerns about sending their children to Uchiha's class. Hotaru's brother would escort her to school every day, but he never set foot in the classroom.
"Come, I'll take you to your seat." Aoi took Xiaoying's hand and felt the little hand trembling slightly.
A number of children were already seated in the classroom. Aoi noticed that they had spontaneously divided themselves into groups by clan—the Senju children gathered on the left, the Uchiha children on the right, and the children from other clans awkwardly squeezed in the middle. This invisible barrier made her feel a little bitter.
"Today we're going to play a game." Aoi stood at the podium, her voice gentle but clear. "Everyone needs to find a partner from a different family."
The classroom was filled with murmurs. The children looked at each other, but no one took the initiative to move.
"Then, let the teacher assign them." Aoi calmly began to call the roll. "Kenta, please be paired with Hotaru."
An Uchiha boy reluctantly stood up and slowly walked over to the Senju girl. Hotaru lowered her head nervously, twisting the corner of her clothes with her fingers.
"Today's task," Aoi said, taking out the wooden board and carving knife she had prepared in advance, "is to create your family crest together."
The children's eyes widened in surprise. This would have been absolutely unacceptable in the past - the family crest was a sacred symbol, how could it be shared with other families?
"Teacher," Kenta couldn't help but say, "Father said that the Uchiha fan shouldn't be shown to outsiders."
"Well then," Aoi smiled and picked up a piece of wood, "how about having Hotaru carve the Senju clan crest for you today, and you carve the Uchiha crest for her?"
This suggestion stunned all the children. Even the most naughty students fell silent and looked at their teacher in confusion.
"Look," Aoi demonstrated, handing the carving knife to Hotaru. "This way, you'll understand the exquisite lines of the Senju clan's crest. And Kenta," she turned to the Uchiha boy, "you'll discover the profound meaning of the Uchiha fan."
At first, the children's movements were awkward and hesitant, but as the carving knives scratched the wooden board, they began to communicate unconsciously.
"Be gentle here," Hotaru whispered. "Mother said the Thousand Hands crest symbolizes the tenacity of life."
Kenta nodded and replied with rare patience, "The Uchiha fan represents the flame of wisdom. My brother told me so."
Aoi paced slowly in the classroom, looking at the descendants of these once hostile families, who were now working side by side. A warm current surged in her heart, as if she saw a glimmer of hope for the future.
The afternoon sun shone obliquely into the corridors of Konoha Hospital. Aoi, clutching a stack of medical records, walked with familiarity to the archives room. This was her second workplace after class each day.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Aoi." An elderly Senju medical ninja nodded to her, but there was still some reservation in his eyes.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Matsumoto." Aoi replied with a smile. "Are there any patients requiring special attention today?"
The medical ninja hesitated. "There's a wounded Uchiha in Ward 3 who refuses our treatment."
Aoi nodded in understanding: "Please let me try."
She gently pushed open the door of Ward 3 and saw a young Uchiha man leaning against the head of the bed, the wound on his arm obviously not being properly treated.
"I don't need Qianshou's medicine." The man said coldly, without even looking up at the person who came.
"So, how about the Uchiha medicine?" Aoi asked softly.
The man looked up suddenly, and after recognizing Aoi's identity, his expression softened slightly: "...Ms. Aoi."
Aoi walked forward and carefully examined his wound. "It's a laceration caused by the shuriken. If not treated promptly, it may affect your flexibility in forming hand seals."
She pulled out a few herbs from her medical kit. "This is evening primrose from the Uchiha clan's land, combined with firefly leaves from the Nanga River. Remember? It's the recipe we used when we were injured as children."
The man's eyes softened: "You still remember these..."
"I've never forgotten the Uchiha heritage." Aoi expertly pounded the herbs into a poultice. "But I've also learned the Senju bandaging technique. See, treating wounds this way makes them heal faster."
She bandaged the man gently, her movements skillful and precise.
"Why do you work here?" the man finally couldn't help asking, "In the Senju hospital, taking care of their wounded..."
Aoi stopped what she was doing and looked up at the other person. "Because here, there are no injured Senju or Uchiha soldiers, only Konoha villagers who need help."
The man was silent for a long time. Then he whispered, "Thank you, Miss Aoi."
When Aoi left the ward, she noticed that Medical Ninja Matsumoto was standing outside the door with a complicated expression on his face.
"Thanks to you," the old medical ninja said with emotion, "the wounded Uchiha are now more willing to receive treatment."
Aoi lowered her head slightly: "This is just my job."
But she knew that every such interaction was quietly changing something.
In the evening, Aoi walked home, the setting sun stretching her shadow very long. As she passed the training ground, she saw several children from different families practicing shuriken together - a direct result of her morning class.
"Mrs. Aoi!" A child saw her and ran over excitedly, "Look, I can hit two bull's eyes at the same time!"
That was a child of the Senju clan, and the one standing beside him and guiding him was actually an Uchiha boy. This scene filled Aoi's heart with hope.
However, not everyone agrees with her efforts.
"Uchiha women, do you think that teaching a few words and bandaging a few wounds can erase a thousand years of hatred?" Sometimes, she would hear such whispers.
There were also criticisms like "How can it be proper for Lord Tobirama's wife to be seen in public all day long?"
Whenever this happens, Aoi just continues her work silently. She knows that change takes time, just like water dripping through stone, and requires persistent effort.
When she returned home, she saw that Tobirama had returned and was sitting at the desk processing documents.
"How was your day?" Tobirama asked without looking up, his tone as calm as ever.
"Very well," Aoi replied softly. "The children at school are starting to interact with each other, and the injured Uchiha at the hospital are gradually receiving treatment."
Tobirama finally raised his head, a barely perceptible flicker of emotion in his red eyes: "I heard you were teaching the children to carve the crests of other families."
Aoi's heart tightened slightly. "Yes. I believe that mutual understanding is the first step to overcoming the barriers."
Surprisingly, Tobirama didn't object, but simply said, "That's a very creative approach."
At this moment, Aoi felt a sense of relief. Perhaps even someone as rational as Tobirama began to understand the value of her seemingly insignificant efforts.
At night, when she was alone in her study, sorting out tomorrow's lesson plan, she couldn't help but think of her brother, Madara, who was far away in the Kingdom of Wind. She wondered if he knew that she was protecting the village they had built together in her own way.
"Brother," she whispered to herself, "Maybe I can't change the world with strength like you do, but I believe that gentleness is also a kind of strength."
Outside the window, a bright moon hangs high, its light shimmering in every corner of Konoha. In this village built by countless families, Uchiha Aoi is, in her own way, building bridges to understanding.
These bridges are perhaps stronger and more enduring than any powerful ninjutsu, because they are built on the softest part of people's hearts, where there is the most sincere desire for peace.
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