Senju Ryūju clenched his teeth and roared, finally pouring out the feelings he had suppressed for so long. He howled like a beast driven into a corner, staring miserably at Senju Yo. His clouded, bloodshot eyes brimmed with bone-deep hatred, though it was unclear whether he hated them or himself.
His fingertips dug into his palms, gouging the soft flesh until it was a bloody mess. The nightmare Senju Ryūju had never been able to escape was this body, which carried the blood of the God of Shinobi yet possessed not the slightest talent as a shinobi.
Born when the fighting between the Senju and Uchiha clans was at its fiercest, Senju Ryūju himself was the product of Hashirama Senju bowing to his father, his clan, and a war with no end in sight.
It could be said that he had been born because of the war, Wood Release, and Hashirama's power to overcome anything. Becoming an heir capable of succeeding Hashirama was Tatsuki's sole purpose from birth, yet fate had played an exceptionally cruel joke on him.
At first, the clanspeople had regarded him as the heir to Wood Release, desperately hoping he would carry on Hashirama's undefeated legend. But his bitterly disappointing talent had easily destroyed all those unrealistic hopes.
Shinobi were cruel by nature, and a great shinobi clan that had survived a thousand years was even more ruthless and pragmatic. Branded a failure, Tatsuki had been readily discarded, falling from the clan's heir to its castoff. Only his father and his uncle had not despised him, but Hashirama and Tobirama, occupied with the battlefield and founding the village, had gradually neglected him too. From then on, everyone had abandoned and forgotten him.
As he looked back on his absurd, pathetic life, conflicting emotions painfully strangled Tatsuki's