Prisoner of the Senju
Crossing the icy, murky river seemed to drain Uchiha Aoi of her last remaining strength. The water not only washed away her body heat, but also, like a ritualistic wash, soaked her connections to the past—the unfinished wedding, her Uchiha identity, even her last shreds of hope for freedom—into a cold, hazy state. Climbing the slope on the other side, strewn with loose gravel and stubborn shrubs, was a double torture of will and will. Every upward push, using both hands and feet, strained her aching muscles, and her breaths came in short gasps like a worn-out bellows. Ahead, Tobirama Senju, though his back injury made his movements equally stiff and slow, even requiring him to pause to stifle painful gasps, maintained a perpetually frightening stability and resilience, as if supported by a core of unbending steel.
As their fingertips finally grasped the edge of the slope's summit, dragging their exhausted bodies onto flat, solid ground, the last glimmer of dusk's light was rapidly being swallowed by the inky blue night. Breathing the relatively open air again, devoid of the damp, rotting odor of the cliff bottom, should have brought a sense of relief at having survived, but for Aoi, that feeling was fleeting, replaced by a deeper sense of fear and pressure that enveloped her like a soaked quilt.
This place was already at the edge of the Senju clan's sphere of influence. The land beneath her feet, the air she breathed, was saturated with the scent of feud. Every step forward brought her further away from the Uchiha clan, from her brother Madara, from everything she knew, and closer to a future filled with unknown dangers and humiliation. Freedom, the moment she stepped off the cliff, seemed not to return, but to take a more obscure, more suffocating form—she became a silent, drawn shadow behind Senju Tobirama.
Senju Tobirama stood in the twilight, panting slightly as he quickly and accurately determined his direction. He didn't even turn back to check if Aoi was following him. He simply scanned the surroundings with his hawk-like red eyes, still sharp as a hawk in the fading light. Then, without pausing, he chose a direction and continued on in silence. His injuries had clearly been exacerbated by the river crossing and the climb. His face was almost transparently pale in the twilight, his tightly pursed lips betraying the immense pain he was enduring. Each step he took was accompanied by a subtle hesitation. Yet, his straight back, like a lone pine tree on a cliff facing the wind, never bent, revealing a stubborn and hardened spirit that would never yield to pain or hardship.
Aoi followed him silently, keeping a few steps at a distance, her legs numbly moving like a prisoner bound by invisible chains. Her once magnificent white wedding dress, a symbol of connection and hope, was now tattered and stained with dried dark red blood, black mud, and green grass. It felt heavy and filthy, clinging to her cold skin like a profound irony. Cold, hunger, extreme exhaustion, and even deeper fear and humiliation, like multicolored threads, entwined her tightly, nearly stripping her of all thought and feeling, leaving only the instinct to follow.
Their route was extremely covert. Tobirama clearly knew this territory, part of his family's sphere of influence, intimately. He avoided any possible roads or villages with pedestrian traffic, choosing instead to navigate trails trodden by wild beasts, deep within sparsely traveled forests, and along rugged, difficult mountain ridgelines. His choices were precise and efficient, minimizing the chances of being discovered by outsiders, allies and enemies alike.
Several times along the way, they even spotted from afar several patrols dressed in Senju clan attire, moving swiftly and methodically through the woods. Each time, Tobirama would make a quick, concealing gesture, signaling Aoi to immediately hide in the dense brush or behind the shadows of a massive rock. Then, he would advance alone and, using a unique method Aoi had never heard before, one that seemed to contain a specific rhythm and chakra fluctuations, establish a brief but efficient exchange with the patrol leader. Holding her breath, Aoi huddled in her hiding spot, her heart pounding. Through the foliage, she could only see the utter respect and obedience that instantly crossed the faces of the Senju ninjas upon recognizing Tobirama. They exchanged a few whispered words, and Aoi couldn't hear the details. She could only see the patrol members' glances occasionally flickering in her direction, filled with suspicion and scrutiny. Ultimately, at Tobirama's terse, cold command, they retreated without hesitation, not approaching to investigate this unidentified, garishly dressed outsider.
These scenes, like cold awls, repeatedly chiseled at Aoi's remaining hope. She understood completely that her status as a "captive" had long been clearly defined in this man's mind, and he seemed to have, through some means, begun to convey this "fact" to the ninjas under his command. She was not a guest, not an ally, not even an ordinary prisoner of war, but a property personally "marked" and controlled by Senju Tobirama.
After more than a day of sleepless, almost exhausting trekking, Tobirama took only brief breaks to find edible wild fruits and clean stream water, which barely replenished their strength. Aoi felt like a string stretched too tight, ready to break at any moment. Just as she was about to give up, a vast clan settlement, built into the mountainside and imposing from afar, finally appeared at the end of her sight.
The massive fortress complex, constructed from dark, heavy timber and massive, off-white rocks, stood in stark contrast to the classically elegant and mysterious refinement of the Uchiha clan's territory. The Senju clan's territory was more rugged, rugged, and practical, with sharp corners and angular forms, exuding a toughness and solemnity honed by a long period of war. The towering watchtowers, the sturdy fortifications, and the flags embroidered with the Senju clan's distinctive crest fluttering in the wind above the clan's territory all proclaimed its master and the inviolable authority of this place.
The moment she saw the clan's land, Aoi's heart felt as if it were being gripped by an icy hand, stopping suddenly. Her blood seemed to freeze. Finally... they had arrived. This place, often portrayed within the Uchiha clan as a den of wrath and blood, brimming with blood and hatred, now stood before her in all its reality, oppressive, like a dormant beast, its maw gaping open.
Senju Tobirama chose not to enter through the heavily guarded main gate, which was bustling with traffic. He led Aoi around to a more secluded side gate, partially obscured by dense trees. The guards there were equally elite. Upon seeing Tobirama's return, they immediately straightened their stances, clenched their right fists over their chests, and gave the standard Senju salute, their eyes filled with awe for this young yet highly respected elder.
"Lord Tobirama!" The guard's voice was loud and respectful.
"Hmm," Tobirama replied flatly, his voice hoarse from the long journey and injuries. The guards' gazes inevitably fell on the ragged, head-downed woman behind him, yet still recognizable as an Uchiha (especially the tattered wedding dress). Their faces were instantly filled with extreme surprise, disbelief, and instinctive wariness and hostility. However, when Tobirama's cold, emotionless gaze swept over them, all the guards were instantly struck as if by an invisible whip. They quickly lowered their heads, suppressed all outward emotion, and dared not ask a single question, silently making way.
The moment she stepped onto the Senju clan's territory, Aoi felt as if she had stepped into the belly of a behemoth. The atmosphere within the clan's territory bore a strange resemblance to that of the Uchiha clan, yet its details revealed a fundamental difference. She could still hear the powerful shouts and clanging of ninja tools emanating from the distant training grounds, and she could still see the hurried movements of ninjas in their clan attire, each busy with their respective tasks. However, everything here seemed to lack the inherent pride and refinement of the Uchiha clan, tinged with artistic flair. Instead, she felt a more austere, unpretentious, tense, and orderly atmosphere, prioritized over practical action and efficiency.
The Senju clan members he encountered along the way, whether ninjas in vests with sharp eyes or women and children dressed in ordinary civilian clothing, all bowed respectfully upon recognizing Tobirama, their gazes inevitably directed towards the incongruous figure behind him. Their expressions were incredibly complex: some expressed pure curiosity and surprise, some with undisguised inquiry and scrutiny, some with deep hostility rooted in generations of blood feuds, and even some with an indescribable, strange look, as if they were looking at something rare.
These gazes, like countless red-hot needles, pierced Aoi from all sides, leaving her feeling utterly ashamed. Her face burned, as if she'd been stripped naked and paraded through the streets. She lowered her head, wanting to bury it in her chest. Her eyes were fixed on Tobirama's dusty heels, clinging to them like a lifeline, fearing that a single step too late would devour her in the invisible hostility surrounding them. She felt no longer a person, but an object, a trophy, a symbol of the Senju's victory over the Uchiha.
Tobirama ignored the various glances and the subtle commotion around him, as if walking in a deserted wilderness. He led Aoi straight through several relatively quiet, stone-paved alleys, avoiding the bustling center of the clan territory, and finally arrived at a relatively secluded, isolated courtyard on the edge of the clan territory. This courtyard was surrounded by a low stone wall, and within it were several sturdy-looking houses. Compared to the more common residential buildings in the area, they were more regular and refined, but still maintained the simple and practical style of the Senju clan. At the gate, two calm ninjas stood guard, like statues.
"Lord Tobirama!" The guard saluted respectfully again when he saw him.
"Hmm." Tobirama's response remained brief. He paused, his gaze sweeping over the two guards, and issued a clear order. His voice was low, yet it carried unquestionable authority: "Listen. Without my direct order, no one—remember, no one—may enter this courtyard. Those inside," he gestured to Aoi behind him with his eyes, "are also not allowed to come in or out at will. Daily necessities such as food and water will be delivered to the highest standards, but all incoming items must undergo strict inspection."
Although the guards were filled with great doubts and confusion (why would Lord Tobirama treat an Uchiha woman with such courtesy? He even demanded the highest standards of supplies? This was completely unreasonable!), their long-term training and their absolute trust and obedience to Tobirama made them hesitate and immediately responded in a deep voice, "Yes! As you command, Lord Tobirama!"
Without further ado, Tobirama pushed open the heavy wooden gate and walked in with Aoi. The courtyard was more spacious than it appeared from the outside. The ground was paved with smooth bluestone slabs, immaculately swept, and there were even a few hardy shrubs of unidentifiable species planted in the corners. There were three separate houses in the courtyard, arranged in a triangular pattern: the main house, a side building, and a small room likely used for storage or a kitchen.
"You'll live here." Tobirama paused in the middle of the courtyard, finally turning around to look at Uchiha Aoi, who had been following him like a frightened bird. His tone was flat, no emotion could be detected, but every word was like a cold iron nail, nailing her last hope to this courtyard. "Don't try to escape. The security here is completely different from what you see. There are barriers around. Any unauthorized entry or exit will trigger the alarm. The consequences are beyond your ability to bear." He paused, his red eyes devoid of warmth, only pure warning. "Don't do anything unnecessary. Stay still, and you can still live a relatively comfortable life."
After saying this last, almost formulaic warning, he didn't even glance at her, nor did he give her any chance to ask questions or plead. He turned around without hesitation, strode out of the yard, and slammed the heavy wooden door shut from the outside. Then, there was the clear, cold sound of the metal bolt falling.
That sound was not like the ordinary sound of a door closing. It was more like the sound of the chains of a huge, invisible cage finally falling, hitting Aoi's heart heavily, completely isolating her from the noisy, dangerous, and possibly unpredictable world outside.
The courtyard, where footsteps and voices had just echoed, instantly fell into a dead silence. Only the evening breeze rustled through the eaves, emitting a gentle whimper. Aoi stood alone in the center of this completely unfamiliar, square courtyard, still clad in the tattered wedding dress that symbolized her past but now served as a badge of shame. A chilling fear, a profound sense of helplessness, and the utter loneliness of being abandoned by the world, like an icy tsunami, instantly engulfed her already battered little boat.
She looked around. There were high walls, closed gates, invisible but certainly perceptible guards and barriers... This was not a home, not even an ordinary prison, but a gorgeous and sturdy cage built specifically for her.
She, Uchiha Aoi, once the sister of the Uchiha clan leader and the bride-to-be of the Night Moon Clan, now officially a prisoner of the Senju Clan, her identity ambiguous and her fate uncertain. What awaits her in the future? No one knows. The night, like thick ink, gradually stained the sky, and also her despair.
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