Nighttime Conversation

The Yaoyu and Yakumi followed behind them. The two had vented most of their emotions in their previous conversation, and although they were still expressionless, the rhythm of tapping the hilt of their knives had slowed down.

The three figures gradually disappeared into the distance. Hashirama stood still, clenching and unclenching his fists repeatedly.

Hashirama watched the three figures gradually disappear around the street corner, he suddenly felt that his greatest dream in this life—to establish a peaceful ninja village—seemed to have been shattered long ago in another world, reduced to nothing but dust.

"Tobirama, when you get back, adjust Hiruzen Sarutobi and Danzo's schedules." He said, his voice hoarse.

Tobirama turned his head to look at him, not refuting, but simply humming in agreement.

The two brothers stood side by side on the stone steps of the Hokage Building. The midday sun was still dazzling, yet it inexplicably made them feel a little cold.

The campfire crackled and burned in the forest clearing, its leaping orange flames tearing through the thick night and pushing back a small patch of the surrounding darkness.

Yaoyu knelt beside the fire, her fingertips pinching a thin twig, listless and full of frustration, poking at the red-hot coals.

Tiny sparks shot into the air, leaping up and falling back down, the Kakkō landing in his Sharingan, highlighting the lingering resentment and anger surging deep within his pupils.

Beside the ancient tree trunk not far away, the Yakumi herbs leaned against it, their form still upright.

He held half a piece of hardened dry ration in his palm, hesitating to put it in his mouth, his gaze fixed on the flickering Kakkō, the only sound the soft crackling of the campfire around him, his silence almost frozen.

After a long silence, the Yaoyu were suddenly broken.

He suddenly snapped the dry branch in his hand, the crisp snapping sound particularly clear in the forest.

He looked up and stared straight at Natsu, who was sitting quietly opposite him. The confusion and resentment that had been weighing on his heart finally burst out. "Lord Natsu, I really can't understand it."

"You clearly had the ability to eliminate them completely, so why did you let them go? That Genjutsu could have trapped them, tormenting them with nightmares for life, but they are still alive." Yaoyu's voice trembled slightly, filled with extreme resentment.

"The Uchiha of our original world had their very chance of survival crushed."

The Yakumi, unusually, did not interrupt his brother.

His usually indifferent tone was tinged with a barely perceptible melancholy as he added, "I also believe that sparing their lives so easily is far too lenient on them."

The moment he finished speaking, he clenched his fists, the dry rations in his palm slightly deformed from his grip, revealing the deep-seated hatred within him.

Natsu did not respond immediately.

He casually picked up a dry twig from beside him and slowly extended it into the blazing flames.

Watching the wood gradually being consumed and charred by the flames, the scorching heat slowly approaching his fingertips, he leisurely tossed the burning branch back into the fire.

He gently brushed the fine ash from his palm, looked up at the two agitated brothers, and said in a calm tone as if discussing a trivial matter, "Kill them, and then what?"

"They're nothing but ants from two parallel worlds, easily wiped out in an instant. They're utterly insignificant to us." Natsu's gaze was calm, yet every word was clear and insightful.

"But have you ever calmly considered what the future path of the Uchiha should look like?"

Yaoyu frowned, his eyes filled with confusion. "Young Master Natsu, do you mean...?"

"I am the one who controls the World Anchor. We can step into this world once, and we can come a second time, a third time. From now on, the Uchiha is destined to traverse countless parallel planes and encounter countless Hiruzen Sarutobi and Shimura Danzō."

Natsu spoke slowly, her tone calm yet carrying an undeniable authority, "Do we have to personally kill every single enemy? Can you even manage to do that?"

He paused slightly, his gaze sweeping lightly over the two brothers, whose expressions differed, before uttering a question that struck at the heart, "Have you ever seen a normal person who would bend down and crush every single ant that gets in their way?"

Yaoyu opened his mouth, his throat moved slightly, and all the resentment and words of rebuttal stuck in his chest, but he swallowed them all back. He had to admit that he had no way to refute them.

The Yakumi lingered for a moment, then a cold gaze fell upon Natsu, and a low voice uttered the crucial point. "So, you spared their lives not just for the purpose of tormenting them with Genjutsu."

"Of course, it doesn't stop there."

Natsu got up and walked to the stream beside her, bending down to scoop up a handful of cool water.

The cool, flowing water washed over my fingertips, cleansing away the remaining charcoal dust and smoky residue.

The night was deep, Gecko filtered through the gaps in the branches and leaves, casting a layer of shimmering silver light on the babbling brook, where the undercurrents flowed quietly.

"The debts that Hiruzen Sarutobi and Danzo Uchiha Shimura Danzō can never be wiped clean with a single life." His voice, cold and clear, drifted through the forest with his back to the campfire, each word piercing the heart.

"They used righteousness as a pretext and honor as bait to push the elite of the Uchiha Clan onto the battlefield time and time again."

When their people returned, ravaged by blood, they received not even a meager amount of compensation or a sincere word of comfort.

"Once we've exhausted our fighting strength and suffered heavy losses, they'll tear off their mask of hypocrisy and use layers of conspiracy to tightly bind the Uchiha, gradually pushing us to the brink of annihilation."

"Such a deep-seated blood feud, how can a mere head avenge it?"

Yaoyu clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, his bones radiating a deep-seated hatred.

The Yakumi remained silent, but the chill in his eyes deepened, and the crimson in his Sharingan surged with an almost overflowing ferocity.

Natsu slowly turned around, the Gecko behind him outlining his slender figure, his face obscured by the shadows cast by the campfire.

"That's why I spared their lives."

"I want them to live in constant, illusory fear, waking in terror at dawn, unable to sleep peacefully at night, consumed by suspicion, utterly Kunai." His tone was calm, yet it concealed the most ruthless calculation.

"I want them to see with their own eyes that the reputation, power, and bonds they cherished throughout their lives will be destroyed by their own hands. I want them to watch helplessly as their most feared future comes true, step by step."

"They will never guess when that Genjutsu, rooted in their hearts, will completely devour their reason."

Perhaps one day, they will personally replicate everything Itachi did to the Uchiha, and exact this sin upon the Sarutobi and Shimura clans."

He returned to the campfire, sat down, and picked up the rough porcelain teacup he had casually taken from a shop on Konoha Street.

The tea in his cup had long since gone cold, and tasted bland, but it did not affect his calm state of mind in the slightest.

"This is the most complete price they owe the Uchiha."

Sometimes, living is far more agonizing and difficult than dying.

A brief silence fell over the woods again, with only the campfire still crackling.

After a long while, Yaoyu raised his hand and threw the withered branch into the fire. Watching the branch being consumed by the flames, he murmured, "Young Master Natsu, you... can be really scary sometimes."

Natsu glanced at him indifferently, the corners of her lips curving slightly, the smile almost imperceptible, carrying a rare hint of relaxed teasing. "You only realize it now? Too late."

The Yakumi did not interfere with their casual conversation.

He remained leaning against the ancient tree, the dry rations in his palm completely cooled and hard to the touch.

My gaze passed over the flickering campfire, pierced through the layers of shadows in the forest, and looked towards the direction of Konoha.

The hatred in his eyes never diminished, but it was no longer the impulsive, reckless, and anxious desire for quick revenge that he had before.

After a moment, he withdrew his gaze from the distance, lowered his head, took a bite of dry rations, and slowly chewed and swallowed.

That cruel truth, along with the dry food, sank into my heart and was etched into my very bones.

Living is indeed harder than dying.