The tearing of reason and emotion
The world of Senju Tobirama was split in two at the moment before the tip of the sword touched the curtain.
Half of it was a cold, hard reality, an unquestionable plan of action deeply ingrained in his mind: the Uchiha-Yeyue marriage must be stopped. To that end, eliminating the key figure in the alliance was the most direct and effective means. He was Tobirama of the Senju clan, the commander in charge of this operation, his duty to safeguard the interests of his clan and eliminate all potential threats. This "target" was the Uchiha, the enemy, the piece on the strategic chessboard that must be captured. No matter who she was, no matter how... harmless she seemed, her identity destined her to be sacrificed. This was the logic of war, the law of survival, a truth he had been indoctrinated and convinced of since childhood. His mind, like the most sophisticated computer, had already calculated the single optimal solution, driving his arms to carry out this final command. The sword must fall.
But the other half collapsed the moment the eyes behind the slit in the curtain opened, turning into a surging emotional ruin that caught him off guard.
It's her.
It's really her.
It is not the cold name "Uchiha Aoi" on the intelligence scroll, nor is it the abstract identity label of "Uchiha Madara's sister", nor is it the political symbol of "marriage tool".
It was that girl under the moonlight. The girl who, with wariness yet unbearable curiosity, asked him if he was a "bad guy." The girl with clear eyes, completely different from the crazed, paranoid, and hateful Uchiha on the battlefield. The girl who had once dropped a tiny stone into his mind, causing a strange ripple.
He'd warned himself countless times, considering every possible scenario. Even if she was the target, he couldn't show mercy. The consequences of the marriage would be disastrous for the Senju, and a personal touch would be insignificant compared to the family's survival. He thought he'd completely frozen, crushed, and discarded that insignificant emotion, what he even considered a weakness. He thought he could calmly complete this elimination mission, just like he'd dealt with any obstacle.
However, when his expectations became reality, when that pale, terrified face truly appeared before his eyes, when those eyes, filled with extreme terror, disbelief, and deep despair, held his gaze fixedly...
The sharp blade in his hand, the ninja sword that embodies all his life's learning, drank countless blood, and never hesitated, seemed to be suddenly infused with a tremendous weight, and seemed to be tightly entangled by countless invisible silk threads. No matter what, it could not fall!
"Do it!" Reason let out a sharp, almost exasperated hiss from the depths of his mind! "She is Uchiha! She is Yeyue's future ally! She is Senju's enemy! Now is the best opportunity! Hurry!"
Ice-cold murderous intent attempted to retake control of his body, muscle memory urging him to complete the unfinished thrust. The chakra on the blade's tip flickered in response to the intense inner conflict, trembling slightly and emitting a barely audible hum, as if it were struggling itself.
Yet, his arms, wrists, and fingers were as stiff as rocks, defying all commands from his brain. They were imprisoned by another, more powerful, more primitive, and more unfamiliar force—the most direct shock and pain conveyed by those eyes, transmitted back through his optic nerves.
He saw himself reflected in her eyes—a blood-stained figure, a cold blade, a murderous look. Like a true "bad guy" she had once questioned. He saw the fear brimming in the depths of her pupils, as if he were looking at a demon crawling out of hell. Those eyes, like a cruel mirror, reflected the naked killing he was currently engaged in, and the target... was her.
A sharp, almost physical discomfort gripped his heart. It wasn't pity, it wasn't sympathy, but a more complex, inexplicable... resistance? It was as if something deep within him protested, refusing to bring the blade down upon this particular being before him. He had killed many Uchiha before, never hesitating. But this time, it was different.
Why? !
My mind was frantically questioning itself, trying to find logical loopholes to excuse my own abnormality. Was it because she wasn't a ninja? Because she looked so fragile? Because of a few brief, inconsequential conversations? No! These reasons pale in comparison to the interests of the family! She was Uchiha Madara's sister! That identity was enough!
But... the emotions he had always suppressed, denied, and despised, clung like stubborn vines to his murderous intent, immobilizing him. That fleeting glimpse under the moonlight, that look tinged with melancholy and curiosity, had already, unknowingly, planted a seed beneath the frozen lake of his heart. And now, on this bloody battlefield, that seed broke through the ice with destructive force, growing wildly and instantly disrupting all his calm plans.
Time seemed to stretch infinitely in the stalemate, every second feeling as long and agonizing as a century.
He could feel the chakra fluctuations of his teammates, still engaged in fierce battle behind and around him, and hear the clash of weapons and the crackling of ninjutsu, but it all seemed distant and blurry, as if separated by a thick layer of glass. All his senses were uncontrollably focused on the tiny space before him, on those eyes filled with terror, and on his own sword, damnably suspended in mid-air.
Would his teammates notice his abnormality? Would the mission fail because of his hesitation? Would this cast a shadow over Senju's future? Countless consequences, like cold, venomous snakes, burrowed into his mind, attempting to reawaken his murderous intent with responsibility and fear.
But no.
The knife just won't fall.
Those eyes, like the most powerful immobilizing spell, pinned him to the spot. An unprecedented feeling of powerlessness and self-loathing washed over him. He hated this loss of control, this indecision, and the fact that he could be swayed by his emotions, especially during such a crucial mission!
However, coexisting with this self-loathing was a deeper desire for protection that even he himself could not understand - an absurd, absolutely inappropriate desire for protection against his enemies. It silently but firmly opposed all reason and admonitions, forming a silent but extremely fierce war raging in his heart.
On both sides of the war are deep-rooted family responsibilities, the cold logic of war, and a strange, sudden, yet strong personal emotion that cannot be ignored.
And at this moment, emotions, sadly and unbelievably... took over.
The tip of his blade remained frozen on the line between life and death. It trembled, struggled, but ultimately, it could not move forward even a single step. It seemed as if the entire world consisted only of him, his blade, and the pair of desperate eyes behind the curtain that had left him completely bewildered and out of control...
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