Birthday Celebration*Izuna

The February wind still carried the lingering chill of winter, whistling like a knife across the newly planted saplings of Konohagakure.

Although it's springtime, there's not much warmth in the air, and your breath instantly condenses into white mist.

Even the Ninjas, who usually wore light and neat clothing, had changed into thicker training uniforms or cloaks.

Icicles hung from the eaves, and the chill of the night made one shiver.

Izuna wrapped his dark blue stand-up collar thermal coat tighter around himself. The collar and cuffs were adorned with soft, dark gray fur, which made his face appear even smaller.

He rubbed his hands together as he walked home, muttering about the damn weather, and planning to light the kotatsu (heated table) and curl up inside when he got back.

Pushing open the courtyard gate, the expected chill did not come.

The kotatsu (heated table) was moved from the hallway into the living room, with a steaming ceramic bowl on it and a small dish of pickled vegetables next to it.

Madara Uchiha had his back to the door, and it seemed he had just placed something on the table.

Hearing the door open, Ban turned his head.

He was unusually dressed today, wearing dark-colored loungewear, his long hair loosely tied back, with a few stray strands falling across his forehead, and an apron tied around his waist.

"You're back?" Ban said. "Perfect timing, the noodles should be eaten while they're hot."

Izuna paused for a moment, his gaze falling on the ceramic bowl.

The milky white broth, the fine hand-pulled noodles neatly nestled in the center of the bowl, topped with thinly sliced char siu pork, a soft-boiled egg, two slices of vibrant green bok choy, and a few sprigs of bright green scallions floating on the surface, the aroma wafting out with the rising steam.

It looks... too lavish, not something Ban could have made.

Izuna blinked, then slowly walked over and sat down at the low table, looking down at the bowl of noodles that was so exquisitely made that it didn't seem like Madara's cooking.

"Today..." Izuna's voice was a little uncertain, "What day is it?"

Ban sat down opposite him, picked up his teacup, glanced at him upon hearing this, and smiled at him helplessly.

"February 10th, isn't that your birthday?"

February 10th.

Izuna's fingertips curled slightly.

This day turned out to be Uchiha Izuna's birthday.

It's also... his own birthday.

The version of myself before time travel also had the same date on my ID card: February 10th.

A subtle sense of disorientation struck him. Two worlds, two completely different life trajectories, had coincided on this date.

Ah, why didn't I notice that before?

I'm a huge fan of Izuna.

Ban saw his younger brother staring blankly at the bowl of noodles and assumed he had simply forgotten his birthday.

That's understandable. Izuna has been busy ever since he came back, and his mind often wanders to places others wouldn't expect, so it's normal for him to forget.

"Eat up," Ban said, handing him the chopsticks. "The noodles are getting soggy."

Izuna took the chopsticks, his fingertips touching the rim of the bowl, the warm touch bringing him back to his senses.

He lowered his head, picked up a mouthful of noodles with his chopsticks, blew on it, and put it in his mouth.

The noodles were chewy and smooth, the broth was rich and flavorful, the char siu was tender and flavorful, and the soft-boiled egg was cooked to perfection.

Very... authentic flavor.

This is completely unlike something someone like Brother Ban, who knows absolutely nothing about household chores, could do.

"... Madara-nii," Izuna asked, his mouth full of noodles, "This noodle..."

"I learned it from the Third Elder," Ban answered frankly, "And practiced it a few times."

Izuna slowed down his chewing of noodles. He could imagine Madara with a stern face, frowning as he followed the steps and controlled the heat under the strict instructions of the Third Elder.

The image alone made a bittersweet feeling well up inside him.

He ate his noodles silently, one bite after another, the steam rising from his eyes.

The bowl of noodles was quickly emptied, and even the soup was drunk clean.

Izuna felt a warm sensation in his stomach, which made his limbs feel relaxed and comfortable.

Ban watched him finish eating before pushing the inconspicuous little cloth bag that had been sitting on the table in front of him.

"Birthday gift."

Izuna picked up the simple, dark gray cloth bag; it felt quite heavy.

He untied the thin rope, revealing a pair of black gloves.

A pair of sturdy tactical gloves.

The material appears to be some kind of specially treated fiber, with fine textured patterns on the palm to increase friction, and flexible splicing at the knuckles that doesn't interfere with hand seals or weapon grip. The edges of the gloves are finely finished, and the inside is lined with a soft, skin-friendly lining.

Most notably, on the inside of the right glove near the wrist, there is a simple Uchiha clan fan pattern embroidered with extremely fine silver thread, along with a line of small text.

--May your military prowess be abundant.

"You often engage in close combat," Madara's voice rang out from the side, still flat, but Izuna could hear the seriousness in it. "This material can protect against common cuts and high temperatures, and it allows for easy movement at the joints. I hope you like it."

Izuna held the gloves, speechless for a moment.

He raised his eyes and looked at Ban.

Ban was also looking at him, his deep black eyes reflecting the warm light of the lanterns under the eaves, and a gentle concern floated in his eyes.

"... Thank you, Madara-nii, I really like it." Izuna's voice was a little muffled as he lowered his head and carefully put the gloves on.

The size is just right, wrapping around the palm of your hand, warm and comfortable.

He moved his fingers, and they were as nimble as ever.

Then he suddenly raised his right hand, which was wearing a new glove, clenched his fist, and held it out in front of Ban.

Ban raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

Izuna grinned, revealing a smile, and shook his fist.

"Look! All geared up! We'll be even stronger next time we fight!"

Ban smiled as he looked at his younger brother's smug "Praise me!" expression.

He raised his hand and lightly patted Izuna's newly gloved fist.

"Impressive." Ban's lips curled up very slightly. "You've eaten the noodles, received the gift, and grown another year older. Try to do less of what worries people in the future."

"Okay--" Izuna replied in a drawn-out voice, withdrawing her hand and carefully touching the line of small words on her glove.

Outside the window, the cold February wind still howled.

But under this roof, the world is baked warmly.