[FOR EVERY 100 POWERSTONES = 1 EXTRA CHAPTER]
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The air in Konoha was thick with the scent of cherry blossoms and celebration. The day had finally arrived, a day that would be etched into the village's history as the moment the Senju and Uchiha truly became one. For Indra and Toka, however, it was a day that resonated across the chasm of two lifetimes.
As Toka was adorned in the pristine white Shiromuku, the symbol of purity and a new beginning, her mind drifted. The memory was so vivid it felt more real than the skilled hands of the Senju women arranging her hair. She was standing in a sun-dappled church, the air cool and smelling of old wood and incense. She was Vidya Joyce, and she was wearing a gown of white lace, a veil cascading down her back. John stood beside her, looking heartbreakingly handsome and uncharacteristically nervous in a simple, well-fitted black suit.
The bishop's voice, gentle yet firm, echoed in the hall.
"[John Pendragon] and [Vidya Joyce], have you come here to enter into Marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?"
Their voices, young and full of a hope untouched by the world's cruelty, had answered as one. "Yes."
"Are you prepared, as you follow the path of Marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?"
Vidya had looked at John, her heart so full it felt it might burst. "Even if we die, we will love each other. Death itself can't break our love." John had simply nodded, his eyes saying everything his voice could not.
The bishop, touched by her fervor, had smiled and moved on.
"Are you prepared to accept children lovingly from God and to bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?"
Another unified, "Yes."
Then came the rings. John had fumbled in his pocket, producing a simple, elegant platinum band with a small, brilliant diamond. He had worked six months at a grueling IT job to buy it, refusing to touch the vast, blood-stained fortune in his secret W.S.C. accounts. That money belonged to the Black Dragon; this ring belonged to John Pendragon. As he slipped it onto her finger, his hand trembled slightly.
He looked into her eyes, his own a storm of complex emotions—love, fear, and the weight of a terrible secret. "Will you…" his voice was a raw whisper, "…truly love me, even if I am a liar?"
Vidya, not understanding the depth of his question but feeling the profound vulnerability behind it, had not hesitated. "Yes."
And then they had kissed, sealing a promise that would be tested by the cruelest of fates.
Back in the present, a tear traced a path through Toka's carefully applied makeup. The Senju women fretted, mistaking it for wedding-day emotion. They didn't know she was mourning and celebrating a love that had already been, and was now being reborn.
On the Uchiha side, Indra stood stoically as his clansmen helped him into the formal Montsuki kimono, the haori, and the hakama. The black silk was heavy, embroidered with the Uchiha fan. As they tied the obi, the memory of that church flooded him. The feeling of the cheap suit, the weight of the ring in his pocket, the terror that his past would taint their future. Vidya's unwavering "yes" had been his salvation, a light in the darkness of his double life. Now, he was about to marry her again, this time with no lies between them, with the power to protect her for all eternity.
The ceremony itself was a beautiful, foreign dance of tradition. They followed the Shinto rituals with a reverence that surprised even the elders. The San-san-kudo, the ritual of three times three, was particularly poignant. As they each took three sips of sake from three different-sized cups, they weren't just uniting the Uchiha and Senju; they were toasting their past, their present, and their endless future. The shared glances they exchanged spoke volumes, a silent conversation only they could understand. The intricate steps, the symbolic offerings—it was all new, something they had only seen in the anime of their previous life. But now, living it, they found a deep, profound meaning in every gesture.
The night that followed was theirs alone. A private chamber, away from the feasting and celebrations. There was no hesitation, only the quiet, intense intimacy of two souls who had found each other across the impossible. It was a reclamation, a confirmation, a promise made flesh. When they finally slept, wrapped in each other's arms, it was the deep, untroubled sleep of those who had finally come home.
The morning sun found them still entwined, the warmth of their shared body heat a comfort against the cool dawn. They woke slowly, trading soft kisses and whispered words, the intimacy of the night spilling over into the morning. There was no rush, no duty that could pull them from this bubble of rediscovered love.
It was in this state of blissful, semi-public intimacy over the following days that the rest of the village's leadership found them. With their own marriages now on the horizon, the atmosphere in Konoha was one of continuous celebration.
Hashirama and Mito's union was a grand political alliance, orchestrated by Butsuma and the Uzumaki clan leader, but one that both parties entered with genuine affection. Izuna, who had long since fallen for Uchiha Rai—the very woman Indra had tasked him with protecting—was now openly planning his own wedding, their bond a testament to duty blossoming into love. Madara, in a move that surprised many, had agreed to an arranged marriage with Ayame Hyuga, a union that promised to strengthen ties with the prestigious Hyuga clan. Even the ever-stoic Tobirama was set to marry Hana Yamanaka, a pairing of two brilliant, analytical minds.
But it was the sight of Indra, the God of Destruction, now constantly by Toka's side, fetching her tea, listening intently to her opinions on trade routes, and wearing a soft, unguarded expression in her presence, that became the talk of the village.
Madara, leaning against a doorframe one afternoon as Indra was meticulously adjusting a flower arrangement in Toka's office just the way she liked it, couldn't resist.
"Look at this," Madara said, his voice dripping with theatrical sarcasm. "The marriage was finalized just yesterday, and our fierce Elder Brother, the scourge of battlefields, is already thoroughly henpecked. I never thought I'd see the day the mighty Indra Uchiha would be tamed by ledger books and flower vases."
Indra's head snapped up. The softness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a familiar, dangerous glint. A slow, predatory smile spread across his face.
Madara's eyes widened. "Oh, shit." In a burst of speed, he used the Body Flicker technique, vanishing from the doorway.
A split second later, Indra was gone too.
What followed was a spectacle that would be recounted in Konoha's legends for generations. A frantic chase erupted through the village. Madara, cackling madly, zipped over rooftops and through crowded markets. Indra, a golden blur of contained fury, pursued him with relentless precision.
"Come now, Elder Brother!" Madara yelled over his shoulder, dodging a casually extended foot from Indra that would have tripped a lesser man. "Don't be angry! I'm just admiring how you dote on your wife! It's very… domestic!"
Indra didn't reply, but a flicker of Amaterasu, extinguished almost instantly, singed the edge of Madara's haori.
"Was that necessary?!" Madara yelped, putting on an extra burst of speed.
From the ground, Toka, Hashirama, Mito, Izuna, Rai, and Ayame watched the display, their laughter ringing through the streets. It was a scene of pure, unadulterated comedy, a Tom and Jerry chase between the two most powerful men in the village. The villagers, once terrified of such displays of power, now watched with grins and shaking heads. It was proof, more than any treaty or ceremony, that a new era had truly dawned. The gods had descended from their thrones, and they were laughing.
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