Chapter 33

Madara's lips still held a faint smile, his tone seemingly nonchalant. Yet Izuna, who had grown up by his side, knew his brother's stubbornness and, feeling helpless, ceased his attempts at persuasion.

He was a younger brother, but also a member of the Uchiha clan under Madara's leadership. Suggestions could be debated, but once a decision was made, it was not to be challenged—the authority of the clan head was not to be trifled with.

Madara flicked his fingertips, and several dark blades folded into a single hair ornament that shimmered like flowing water. He pinned it into his hair, the dark blue metallic luster complementing the sea-blue cloud silk ribbons trailing from his ink-black locks. He nodded at Uchiha Tai. "Let them resolve the Ming Society matters themselves. If force is required, the Fifth Elder is responsible for mobilizing personnel. As for the rest... I will have Yan send the arrangements to you—go and see them carried out."

Uchiha Tai bowed and withdrew. Madara pulled his brother close, his smile growing warmer. "What is it? Still pouting like a steamed bun?"

Izuna's eyes widened at the remark, and he reached up to touch his face. "I am not, Brother! You're teasing me again!"

"Hah, don't throw a tantrum like a child." Madara tapped his forehead lightly. "My clothes are soaked with sweat; I'm going back to bathe and change. Wait for me in my quarters, and we can discuss whatever you need to then, all right?"

Izuna's eyelashes fluttered, half-lowered, and his voice dropped with a hint of shyness. "I want to do it like we used to... um, bathe with you, Brother."

Before Madara became clan head, he had always lived with Izuna. After the clan grounds were expanded and rebuilt, Madara moved into the main residence. The residence was divided into two sections: the south for official business and the north for private quarters, connected by a central courtyard garden. As Madara's brother, Izuna had a spacious, independent courtyard in the northern section. However, as affairs grew increasingly busy, opportunities for the brothers to spend time together had dwindled.

Madara, who enjoyed his younger brother's rare displays of affection now that he was grown, readily agreed. "Very well. In that case, let's use the hot spring."

Madara was never one to skimp on comfort. The main residence featured a fully equipped hot spring, fed by natural geothermal heat, where flowers and plants bloomed out of season. Exquisite screens stretched from the entrance to the pool's edge in overlapping layers. The pool's rim was carved from fine jade, smooth and delicate, with a thin mist swirling above the water. While it fell short of Madara's luxurious standard of "Glazed Ink-Jade Night Pearls," to an ordinary person, it was nothing short of a fairyland.

Hanging their snow-white robes on the nearest carved rack, the brothers stripped and stepped into the water.

Having rarely been this exposed to each other since adulthood, Izuna felt a bit self-conscious. Madara, however, pulled the cloud silk ribbons from his hair with effortless grace, letting his long locks spill out. He leaned back against the pool's edge and pulled his brother close, his expression entirely natural.

"Here, yours." Madara draped a towel over his brother's head, his gaze lingering on him.

As one of the clan's primary combatants, Izuna bore far more scars than Madara. The clan's scar-fading ointment had done its best, and a few years ago, the Nara clan had even sent their own specialized medicine, which Madara had used on his brother without sparing any expense, yet many wounds still left faint traces.

His fingertips brushed a red mark on Izuna's shoulder, and Madara sighed. "You've worked hard, Izuna."

"All ninjas are like this, it's nothing." Izuna shook his head, smiling. "Besides, I am happy to do things for you, Brother."

His smile was calm and genuine, his ink-jade eyes filled with nothing but pure sincerity.

Madara pursed his lips, suddenly at a loss for words.

Possessing memories of a past life was both an advantage and a shackle. It allowed him to stand at a higher starting point than anyone else, yet he could never treat others with the same pure sincerity as Izuna.

Calculating the value and utility of every person, weighing the benefits of others' emotions, planning meticulously, laying complex traps, and always keeping a contingency plan... these had become habits etched into his very marrow. He did not need trust or loyalty; he exploited the depravity of human nature, and every one of his schemes had a hidden card to turn the tide.

Yet, a lifetime of glory and splendor, the memory and reverence of the masses—these were merely external things. Once everything was stripped away, only he remained. No matter how he manipulated the situation, chased supreme greatness, or lived in extreme luxury, he was always acutely aware of the inevitable desolation of the end.

He mocked the love-starved paranoia of ninjas, the hypocritical power-mongering of nobles, and the ignorant cowardice of commoners. Turning back, he found himself just as solitary.

...The person who exists in the hearts of others is that person's soul. This is your true self, the thing upon which your will relies to breathe, to nourish, and to be intoxicated throughout your life; this is your soul, your immortality, and your life that exists within others.

Yes, your existence is the greatest joy of my life.

So... I have always been an ordinary person after all.

"Izuna..." He sighed, pulling his brother into an embrace. In this moment, he suddenly felt that losing the brother bound to him by blood, losing the one who treated him with true heart, would make gaining the world entirely meaningless.

Izuna hugged Madara's waist tightly, resting his forehead on his shoulder. "Brother..."

--You must live well.

--Please return safely.

After the hot spring, the Uchiha brothers' faces were flushed a light red by the steam, their skin appearing even more luminous. Madara draped his robe on loosely, the collar hanging open, revealing a glimpse of the scenery beneath.

Neither of them had the mind to notice.

"Money, change of clothes, weapons, food, compressed water..." Madara checked the items he was taking. To avoid leaving a trail during this trip to the Land of Fire, he could not arrive at his own properties openly as he had in the past. Furthermore, the Uchiha had largely withdrawn their assets from the Land of Fire, making his travel preparations far more cumbersome than usual.

It was fortunate that he had a thoughtful brother who had prepared everything himself... but wasn't this a bit too much?

Not to mention the food and water, the money alone was a thick stack. And that was without counting the dozen sets of robes, formal wear, hunting attire, swallow-tail coats, and ninja gear. As for weapons, there was a massive pile of hidden projectiles, and... "What is this fan?" Madara picked up the enormous fan and gave it a wave, only for the resulting wind blade to slice through the tea table.

"It's a new creation from the Research Division, called the Flame Fan!" Izuna pointed at the clan crest on the fan with a grin. "I specifically asked them to make it. It can amplify the power of Fire Style, it works for cutting people down, and it has other uses too!"

Madara felt a bit awkward about the fan's design, but seeing Izuna's sparkling eyes, the refusal on his lips died away. He set the fan down and picked up the stack of clothes. "And these? Why so many?"

"Of course, it's so you can change into a fresh set every day, Brother." Izuna looked as if it were a matter of course. "How could I let you wash your own clothes? Just throw them away when you're done; it's so convenient. If it's not enough, I'll have them prepare more. Besides, with the 'Space Eater,' you can carry as much as you want."

Unable to bring himself to argue with his precious brother, Madara set the clothes down and counted the thick stack of money. "...Five million?"

"No, it's four million, five hundred fifty-five thousand, five hundred fifty-five—including the small change. I was worried the Land of Fire wouldn't be as prosperous as the Land of Lightning and wouldn't be able to break large denominations."

Truly... meticulous. Madara sighed with a soft laugh. "There's too much stuff. I'm going to fight, not go on vacation."

Izuna's eyes dimmed slightly. "I can't help you with the fighting, so I can only try my best in other areas."

Madara felt a warmth in his heart and, not wanting to continue the heavy topic, changed the subject. "I leave the clan affairs to you. Consult with the elders if anything arises; the Nara clan is also a presence you can trust. And there is no need to personally oversee the Ming Society."

Izuna pouted slightly, just as he had when he was a child. "Do you still not trust me, Brother?"

Madara knew he was trying to lighten the mood. He pinched his cheek with his slightly calloused fingers and chuckled. "Izuna, you've grown up."

"Avoidance is not a solution; uncertain factors must be eliminated in time."

"Therefore, I must go."

Izuna tilted his head slightly at these words, his voice low. "...It's already evening; are you leaving now, Brother?"

"Why not?" Madara looked up at the golden-red clouds stretching across the sky. "It is the very moment when the sunset is at its most beautiful."

"But it is near dusk..."

As the last cup of clear sake slid down his throat, the man sat cross-legged on the edge of the cliff, gazing at the vanishing point where heaven and earth met. His eyes were intoxicated, though not from the wine.

The scenery of the Land of Fire in spring is more lush and magnificent than in any other nation. Rolling mountains stretch out in an endless expanse of green, while the occasional lake or stream glitters like crystal and gemstones. By day, they reflect the sky like sapphires; now, stained by the glow of the sunset, they shimmer with incomparable brilliance. The evening breeze stirs long hair, soft as a caress, gentle and lingering.

Tranquil, serene, peaceful.

So beautiful...

Madara traveled at a leisurely pace, taking in the mountains and rivers, and only arrived at the meeting place agreed upon with Hashirama after more than ten days.

The sky had already begun to darken, the sunset shifting from golden yellow to golden red, and finally into a dim amber blended with deep purple. The surrounding trees were obscured, visible only as vague, shadowy outlines. Even so, when Madara looked up and saw the man sitting on the edge of the cliff, he recognized him at a single glance.

The afterglow of the setting sun traced the contours of the man's face, bathing his entire figure in the embers of the light. His gaze shifted downward, catching sight of Madara in his pale blue simple attire amidst the evening breeze. "You're here, Madara."

"Yeah, long time no see, Hashirama."