That night.
Aomizu sat on the wicker chair in his bedroom, closing his eyes to ponder today’s events.
“Kid, what on earth are you trying to do…” Tobirama Senju’s voice rang out like a ghost, but amusingly, it carried a trace of thick, unmaskable confusion.
Aomizu ignored him, so Tobirama Senju went on analyzing on his own.
“You claim to believe in the Will of Fire, but this old man doesn’t buy it.
A dangerous, sharp-witted kid like you wouldn’t fail to see the underlying nature of the Will of Fire…” “Do you want to infiltrate the Hokage’s faction, biding your time to secure benefits for the Uchiha Clan?” “No…
If that were the case, why did you suppress that extreme kid, Obito Uchiha?
Besides, you’ve been constantly mimicking my battle style.
Neither of those actions would naturally do anything but lower your standing within the Uchiha Clan.” “But the problem is, if you—the evil brat who sealed this old man inside your body—could make me believe you’re truly dedicated to Konoha, then I would have fought in the Ninja World for all these years in vain…” “And yet, you are Kagami’s descendant.” Even the wise and calm Tobirama Senju was completely bewildered at this moment.
From a self-interest perspective, Aomizu’s actions were absolutely thankless within the Uchiha Clan.
Aomizu had publicly declared his devotion to the Will of Fire as a prodigy, swept away the two-tomoe Obito with Tobirama’s signature Water Style—which the Uchiha were most sensitive to—and even criticized the Sharingan for causing emotional instability…
The symbolic significance and the angles to exploit in this were simply too numerous.
And Tobirama Senju had to admit that putting aside the fact that Aomizu had sealed his soul, Aomizu’s character was so flawless that even he couldn’t find a single fault with it.
Encouraging the hardworking Might Guy, healing his wounds, promising to become his rival despite being a genius; sharing advanced Ninjutsu with Rin Nohara, a talented but resource-poor civilian shinobi; showing great respect to Ikaku Umino, an ordinary Chunin; and taking care of his young brother’s feelings…
Aomizu’s humility and gentleness were extremely rare, even within the Senju Clan.
But all of this had to return to the starting point.
Tobirama Senju couldn’t ignore the sealing, because his soul was indeed sealed away…
Could it really be as Aomizu had introduced himself at the very beginning?
Was he really not an Uchiha twisted and crazed to the extreme, appearing calm only on the surface?
Was he truly just a good kid who slept early, woke up early, and wanted a peaceful life—someone who, when faced with the conflict between the Uchiha Clan and the village, felt forced to research a Secret Technique to summon Tobirama’s soul for help?
When Tobirama Senju thought of this, a great sense of absurdity washed over him, accompanied by a faint, subtle trace of guilt.
If that were true, wouldn’t it mean he had personally driven a genius Uchiha who possessed the Will of Fire to despair of the village?
Tobirama Senju shook his head violently, shaking off this ridiculous possibility, and his gaze turned firm once more.
But his heart had inevitably wavered, because his expectations of Aomizu had inevitably shifted…
“Tobirama, I once read an ancient book with a saying I quite like: ‘A gentleman is judged by his deeds, not his thoughts,'” Aomizu’s figure appeared before Tobirama Senju.
Looking at the complex expression of the Second Hokage, he spoke slowly: “It means that if you want to judge whether a person is good or bad, do not try to guess what is in their heart; instead, look at what they do.” “Not only are you a Hokage, but you are also a researcher.
So you should understand that when you approach a person or an event with a preconceived bias, you have already lost your objective stance.” “Since you are a shinobi I once respected, I will make an exception and reiterate this to you…” “What I want to do is very simple: let good people lead better lives, let bad people face the punishment they deserve, and use my, Aomizu Uchiha’s, justice to punish evil, promote good, and bring about peace.” Tobirama Senju watched Aomizu in silence, but even with his keen eyes, all he could see in those Sharingan was sincerity.
“Kid, I’ll be keeping my eyes on you.” “Tobirama, I really need your wisdom to guide and protect me.
If you have anything to say, you are welcome to speak up at any time.” “Don’t call me Tobirama!
You brat, I was your grandfather’s master!
I’m from your great-grandfather’s generation!” “Alright, alright, Tobirama.
You’re already dead, so why care so much about generational seniority?” [Obtained from confrontation target Tobirama Senju: Sword Style (Tobirama Senju Version)!] As the beautiful sound of reaping rewards rang out, Aomizu looked at Tobirama Senju, who was still arguing over seniority, and suddenly laughed.
That smile was identical to the one on Aomizu’s face when Tobirama first met him—it was like looking at a bountiful harvest…
Tobirama Senju felt a sudden jolt in his heart, only to hear Aomizu say, “Good night, Tobirama.” Darkness once again shrouded Tobirama Senju’s vision.
Aomizu slowly took off his clothes, humming a little tune in an excellent mood.
“Regardless of the amount, a harvest is a harvest.
Tobirama’s sword style is decent enough.
It’s time to buy a sword…” “Oh, right, our family storehouse seems to have quite a few excellent blades from the Warring States Period.
I’ll check them out when I wake up tomorrow.” And while Aomizu drank his milk, did his warm-up exercises, and fell into a deep sleep, many people found themselves unable to sleep for a long time this night.
In the next room, Shisui tossed and turned, thinking of how to increase his strength as quickly as possible.
He felt Aomizu was under too much pressure.
Might Guy, accompanied by Might Duy, ran laps around Konoha in excitement.
The recognition from Aomizu filled him with boundless energy.
Rin Nohara lay in bed, staring blankly at the bright moon outside her window, inexplicably recalling the tingling sensation of Aomizu’s finger brushing against her neck, her cheeks flushing red once more.
Kakashi stared at the short sword in his hand, wondering if he would stand a chance of winning if he and Aomizu actually fought.
Asuma stood in the courtyard of Hiruzen Sarutobi’s home.
Having swiped his older brother’s cigarettes, he stared at the swirling smoke, his mind filled with Aomizu, the Uchiha, and the Will of Fire.
Hiruzen Sarutobi was not at home; he was in the Hokage’s Office, writing the exam paper with rapt attention, preparing questions for the subject Aomizu was looking forward to.
Obito Uchiha received warm visits from a crowd of elders led by Setsuna Uchiha, gaining unprecedented attention.
After all, a seven-year-old awakening a two-tomoe Sharingan was extremely rare, even in the Uchiha’s thousand-year history.
Tobirama Senju pondered in the darkness.
He found himself increasingly unable to see through Aomizu, but this only sparked his curiosity and competitive spirit.
Meanwhile, Madara Uchiha, who lived in seclusion in a cave, also received news about Obito and Aomizu through White Zetsu.
Looking closely at the report in his hands, he fell into deep thought.
From Konoha to the wider Ninja World, this chaotic era and chessboard where shinobi danced had its threads of fate imperceptibly tremble due to Aomizu’s sudden rise.
Whether their fates would turn out better or worse in the future, Aomizu did not know.
He slept very soundly.