Your Brothers Are All Remarkable People

"Too slow, Izuna!" The spiky-haired youth laughed, his eyes scarlet with the Three-Tomoe Sharingan, "You won't be able to protect the clansmen like this!"

"Less talk, brother!" Izuna gritted his teeth and dodged, sweat beading on his forehead, yet his gaze remained sharp.

Qingyu: How is it 'nii-san'? Isn't he supposed to be secretly calling him 'onii-chan' in private!

Izuna: Stop slandering me!

That part about calling him 'onii-chan' in private...

That part about secretly altering his own memories.

That part about not wanting to lose face in front of Tobirama.

He spotted an opening, suddenly changing direction—not retreating, but charging forward.

Three shuriken flew out from bizarre angles; one aimed straight for the face, while the other two sealed off his left and right.

Madara raised an eyebrow, easily batting the shuriken away.

But in that very instant, Izuna had already closed the distance, his kunai thrusting straight for the throat.

"Snap!"

Madara caught the tip of the kunai between two fingers.

"Not bad," Madara released his grip, his Sharingan fading away.

"You've finally learned to use a feint to create a genuine killing blow, though it's still too obvious. I had at least three ways to counter-kill you just now."

"For example?" Izuna sat down, panting.

"For example, predicting your trajectory when you changed direction and using Fire Style to block your path, or pretending to fall for the trap and using the Substitution Technique to counter-stab once you got close, or..."

"Using the power of the Mangekyo directly."

Izuna fell silent.

"Is the Mangekyo... really that strong?"

"Strong enough to change the tide of battle," Madara's voice deepened.

"But also strong enough... to require a price."

"What price?"

Madara did not answer, merely gazing at the distant lights of the clan compound: "Father says the Senju clan has pushed forward another thirty miles. The next major battle might be the final one."

"We will win!" Izuna said firmly.

"With you as my brother, and with me here, the Uchiha will not lose."

Madara ruffled his younger brother's hair: "Idiot! Wars aren't won by one or two people alone, but... you're right. We won't lose."

The setting sun stretched their shadows long across the ground.

"Izuna."

"Hm?"

"If one day I am no longer here, you must protect yourself, and the clansmen."

"What silly things are you saying, Brother Madara? How could you possibly..."

"It's just a hypothesis..." Madara interrupted him.

"Promise me."

Izuna looked into his brother's earnest eyes and finally nodded: "...I promise."

"Good," Madara stood up, "Let's continue training. Today I'll teach you the ultimate technique of the Uchiha-style shurikenjutsu: 'Eight Light Return'."

"Eh? Isn't that something you need the Three-Tomoe to learn?"

"Learning it early is better than it being too late."

The memory came to an abrupt halt here.

Qingyu snapped back to reality, finding himself still sitting at the dining table, holding a half-cold rice ball in his hand.

"Your brother..." he said softly.

"Ah," Izuna's voice was calm, but Qingyu could sense a ripple of emotion, "That idiot always loved saying such ominous things."

"What happened later?" Qingyu couldn't help but ask, "He..."

"Later, he used the Mangekyo Sharingan to lead us to victory in that war, but we also lost a great deal." Izuna paused for a moment.

"And after that... I suppose I died from my wounds, and then he and Tobirama's elder brother founded Konoha."

When saying these words, Izuna's tone was indifferent, as if he were speaking of someone else's affairs.

But Qingyu knew it wasn't.

As a transmigrator, he was indeed familiar with the plot, but he still felt his heart tremble at the genuine emotions within those memories.

Actually, Izuna never even activated the Mangekyo during his battle with Tobirama, did he...

In the final moments before his death...

He worried that his brother's eyes would eventually go blind, worried that his brother would be heartbroken by his death, and worried about the Uchiha clan.

It was precisely because of these emotions that Izuna awakened the Mangekyo Sharingan before he died, leaving it for Madara, who was on the verge of blindness.

"No... Brother! Do not be deceived by them!"

The memory came to an abrupt halt here.

Izuna: Back then, I felt happy just standing behind my brother...

"Do you wish to see my memories?" Tobirama suddenly spoke, breaking the delicate atmosphere.

"I do." Qingyu tapped the water-droplet-shaped fragment.

This time it was night, in a crude laboratory.

A young Tobirama, looking to be in his early twenties with his signature silver hair, was frowning at a complex chakra meridian diagram.

"That's not right..." he muttered to himself.

"The decay rate of water-attribute chakra flowing through the meridians is 12% higher than the theoretical value. Is it a resistance issue with the meridian walls, or a property of the chakra itself?"

He picked up a pen and calculated rapidly on paper.

The laboratory door was pushed open, and a tall figure walked in.

"Tobirama, still researching?" The voice was gentle and mellow.

"Big Brother?" Tobirama looked up. "Weren't you negotiating with Madara Uchiha?"

Hashirama Senju scratched his head. "Negotiations are over. A three-month truce for now. That guy Madara... he's as difficult as ever."

"Why negotiate?" Tobirama put down his pen, his expression serious.

"The Uchiha clan just attacked our supply team last week and killed seventeen people, including three children! How can such a blood feud be resolved through negotiation?!"

Hashirama fell silent, walking to the window to look at the night sky. "Because... I saw another possibility."

"What possibility?"

"A world where children don't have to go to the battlefield." Hashirama turned around, his eyes shining.

"Tobirama, do you believe it? Do you believe that the Senju and Uchiha can stop killing each other, build a village together, and protect the children so they can grow up in peace?"

Tobirama stared at his older brother for a long time before finally sighing. "Big Brother, you are too naive... The nature of the Uchiha clan is warlike, paranoid, and easily seduced by power!"

"Madara isn't like that!" Hashirama retorted, then softened his tone.

"Besides... even if some are, it doesn't mean everyone is. Just like in our Senju clan, don't we also have those who fear death and betray their comrades?"

Tobirama could not refute this.

Because this was human nature, and human nature could not withstand such tests.

"That is exactly why... I cannot easily trust the Uchiha clan!"

A clan that could obtain such immense power simply by relying on intense emotional fluctuations—how could he possibly trust them...

"Give it a try, Tobirama." Hashirama patted his younger brother's shoulder.

"Help me! Let's create a world where children can live with smiles, using your wisdom and my strength!"

"...I will research it," Tobirama finally said.

"But not on the battlefield. If we are truly going to build a village, the defense systems, ninja training protocols, mission distribution mechanisms... all of these require rigorous design."

"Then I'll leave it to you!" Hashirama laughed loudly. "I knew you would support me!"

"I didn't agree to anything!" Tobirama turned back to his blueprints, though a faint, subtle smile touched the corner of his mouth.

"I am merely... researching the feasibility."

The memory ended here.

So this was the source of why Tobirama continued to resolutely protect Konoha even after Hashirama's death.

"As the one who protects the village, I do not intend to retreat a single step!"

The memory ended here.

Tobirama: An idealist so naive he was almost foolish... but his ideals truly changed the world.

Qingyu let out a long breath.

"Your brother..." he said to Tobirama, "is a very special person."

"An idealist so naive he was almost foolish," Tobirama commented, though his tone was not sharp.

"An ordinary person..."

"Both of your brothers," Qingyu sighed, "were remarkable men."

"Obviously." For once, Izuna and Tobirama spoke in unison.

Qingyu also smiled, a rare sight to behold.

It would be better not to tell them about what happens later...

As the laughter gradually faded, Qingyu gazed at the night sky outside the window:

The old affairs of the Six Dynasties have become nothing more than private family records...

Eastward I gaze upon Jieshi, leaving behind these verses...

Am I not, too, merely a speck of dust in the grand sweep of history?