The sky was already tinged with the colors of evening by the time Hashirama Senju and Uchiha Madara finally returned.
Tobirama, Hiruzen, and Minato had been waiting for a long time. The moment Hashirama stepped back into camp, carrying the heavy coffin in his Wood Style arms, Tobirama immediately strode forward, his brows furrowed in worry.
"Brother, are you alright?" Tobirama asked quickly, his tone edged with impatience but hiding a current of genuine concern.
Hashirama set the coffin down with a weary sigh. His shoulders slumped, his usually bright expression subdued. "Madara and I went to dig a grave, Tobirama. What could possibly happen?" he said, his voice carrying a hint of depression, as though the task had weighed heavily on him.
Tobirama gave a short nod at the explanation, though he didn't fully ease up.
For hours, his mind had been racing. His elder brother had not returned for far too long. The thought that perhaps Madara had poisoned him, or worse, filled Tobirama's heart with suspicion. His distrust of Madara had always run deep. It was the very reason why, when Hashirama had insisted on accompanying Madara to retrieve Izuna's remains, Tobirama had wanted to follow. His fear was that Madara would trick his brother, or worse—stab him in the back while away from their allies.
But now, with Hashirama's return, he realized perhaps he had worried too much.
Madara landed not far from them, his crimson Sharingan glinting briefly in the dimming light. He took one glance at Tobirama's sharp expression and sneered, deciding not to waste his breath.
Even after all these years, Tobirama's eyes were the same—forever filled with suspicion toward the Uchiha. Long ago, back when Konoha was still young, Tobirama had suggested keeping watch over the Uchiha clan, preventing them from holding too much power. After decades, it seemed nothing had changed.
Madara's jaw tightened. He no longer cared about Tobirama's opinions. All that mattered now was his brother, Izuna.
Hashirama released his Wood Style bindings, and the coffin gently thudded onto the ground.
At that moment, Minato Namikaze stepped forward with calm precision. In his hand, sealed inside a scroll, was a restrained White Zetsu clone. He unraveled the sealing tags with expert control, releasing the pale body for the ritual.
Madara's eyes narrowed. He moved forward, ready to take control of the preparations. But before he could, Tobirama's voice cut sharply through the air.
"Let me handle this."
Madara turned his head, his eyes falling coldly on Tobirama. For an instant, their gazes locked. Tobirama, however, felt the discomfort gnaw at him, and so he added quickly, "Consider it my contribution."
The unspoken truth lingered. Tobirama had been the one who struck down Izuna all those years ago with his Flying Thunder God Slash. That single strike had mortally wounded Madara's beloved younger brother, leading to Izuna's death. Even now, Tobirama carried that weight. He would never admit it aloud, but a flicker of unease twisted within him whenever Madara's eyes lingered on him.
He knew. He knew what the Uchiha were like—intensely loyal, overwhelmingly driven by their emotions, especially the bonds of family. If Madara was already dangerous, then the death of Izuna had been the match that set the forest aflame.
Tobirama's fingers moved with unmatched precision as he began inscribing the seals. As expected of the inventor of Impure World Reincarnation, his work was exact and efficient. His brushstrokes flared with chakra, intricate formulae glowing faintly on the ground.
When the preparation was complete, Hashirama stepped forward once more. He opened the coffin with heavy hands. This time, however, Madara did not let him continue. With deliberate care, Madara reached inside with his own hands, lifting the frail, weathered bones of his younger brother. His movements were reverent, as though the remains were a sacred treasure.
Hashirama and Minato exchanged a brief glance. They both recognized the depth of Madara's devotion.
Madara placed Izuna's remains into the seal with painstaking gentleness, as though afraid they would crumble from his touch. Minato, silent and steady, placed the sealed White Zetsu body beside it. The final components were ready.
Without hesitation, Tobirama clapped his hands together, forming seals. His voice rang out across the field:
"Impure World Reincarnation!"
The formula activated at once. White Zetsu's body erupted with an eerie white glow, and so too did the bones of Uchiha Izuna. The two lights twined together, pulsing and merging until they overlapped completely.
Seconds stretched into eternity.
Then, the light collapsed inward, and a figure stood where bones had been. Flesh restored. Black hair flowing.
Uchiha Izuna had returned.
"Izuna!!!"
Madara's voice cracked with raw emotion. The hardened warrior who had faced gods and demons, who had defied death itself, now trembled like a child. He surged forward, his hands gripping Izuna's arms as if afraid he might disappear.
"Izuna! It's me—your older brother!"
But Izuna's eyes were glazed, his expression blank. He did not respond.
Tobirama exhaled and said almost casually, "I haven't released his soul yet."
Madara blinked, realization dawning. Of course—without the soul release, Izuna was merely a puppet. Madara immediately moved his fingers, performing the release with sharp precision.
"Release!"
A hum of chakra filled the air. Izuna's body shuddered violently, and then clarity returned to his gaze. His eyes, deep black, darted around before finally settling on his brother.
"Is this…?" Izuna whispered, confusion etched on his face.
Madara's throat tightened. "Izuna, it's me! Your brother!"
Recognition lit Izuna's features, and his voice, shaky but filled with relief, cried out, "Brother!!!"
Madara pulled him into a fierce embrace. Tears streamed freely down his face. The indomitable Uchiha Madara, who had faced death with cold pride, was reduced to sobbing in front of everyone.
Hashirama watched in silence, a storm of emotions in his chest. Never in his long life had he seen Madara shed tears. For all their years together—friends, rivals, enemies—Madara had always stood proud, aloof, untouchable. Yet now, before his brother, he was utterly human.
Izuna's confusion lingered. "Brother, wasn't I mortally wounded? I… I was dying. How am I here now?"
Tobirama stepped forward, his tone clipped but factual. "Your elder brother resurrected you through Impure World Reincarnation."
The moment Izuna's eyes landed on Tobirama, recognition ignited. His body stiffened, and his Sharingan flared to life in an instant. With a snarl, he shoved Madara aside, pointing a trembling hand toward Tobirama.
"Brother! Be careful—it's Tobirama! That bastard!"
His chakra spiked, hands moving as if to form seals. Rage poured off him in waves.
Madara quickly grabbed him, his voice low and urgent. "Izuna, stop! Listen to me!"
Izuna froze, baffled, staring into his brother's eyes. But when he turned his head again, he saw Hashirama standing not far away. Old memories, bitter and sharp, clawed at him.
"Brother, don't trust them," Izuna hissed. "Their talk of peace, of a joint village—it's all lies! They only seek to weaken us, to destroy our clan, to crush us in one strike!"
Hashirama lifted his hands placatingly. "Izuna, you misunderstand. The world today is not the same as the one we knew. Much has changed. You don't understand yet."
Izuna's eyes narrowed. Confusion warred with fury. Subconsciously, he looked to his brother.
Madara sighed. His Mangekyō Sharingan spun slowly. "Then see for yourself, Izuna."
Their eyes met, and in an instant, Madara poured the flood of memories into his younger brother's mind—decades of betrayal, struggle, the fall of the Uchiha, the birth of Konoha, the wars that consumed nations, his own descent, and finally, the Fourth Great Ninja War.
To Izuna, it was as if he lived another lifetime in a heartbeat. His knees buckled. He clutched his head, gasping, words tumbling brokenly from his lips. "How… how could this be? How could the world…?"
Madara crouched beside him, steadying his trembling shoulders. "Izuna. I'm here. Don't break."
Slowly, painfully, Izuna digested the torrent of memories. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes locked onto Tobirama, and fury ignited all over again.
"Tobirama!" Izuna roared. "I'm not finished with you!"
He lunged forward, but Madara grabbed him tight, holding him back.
"Izuna! Calm yourself!"
"Brother, let me go! I'll kill him!"
Hashirama instantly stepped between them, palms open in a plea. "Please! If there's something to say, let's talk it out. Fighting won't solve this!"
But Tobirama's patience snapped. His voice was sharp, cold as steel. "The Uchiha, born cursed, always choose violence the moment they rise from the grave. If it's a fight you want, I'll grant it! Monkey—prepare yourself!"
"Ah?! M-me?" Hiruzen stammered, caught off guard.
Minato, ever the pragmatic observer, quietly slipped aside. This was clearly a matter between the First and Second Hokage—and the Uchiha brothers. He would not interfere unless necessary.
"Tobirama!" Hashirama barked, glaring. "Enough! Stop provoking!"
Tobirama jabbed a finger toward Izuna, still thrashing against Madara's hold. His voice was furious. "Brother, you scold me, yet it was I who resurrected him! And this is how he repays it? By trying to kill me the moment he opens his eyes?!"
Izuna snarled, eyes blazing with hate. "You bastard! You cut me down, tore me from my brother's side, and left him alone to suffer! And that's not all—when my brother agreed to your dream, when he agreed to build this so-called village, you spat venom about him and the Uchiha in front of Hashirama! You drove him away!"
His words grew louder, more bitter, voice breaking. "If my brother hadn't left, he wouldn't have fallen into Black Zetsu's schemes! If he hadn't left, he wouldn't have been betrayed, abandoned by friend and clan alike, forced to walk alone!"
"Alone… until the very end, only to learn it was all a lie!"
The more Izuna spoke, the more violent his chakra surged. Madara's arms tightened desperately around him. "Izuna! That's enough! It's all in the past!"
Hashirama, standing in silence, felt his heart twist at Izuna's words. But what caught his attention most was when Izuna, in his rage, had called him "Brother Hashirama."
Hashirama's eyes widened. Izuna… accepted him?
Indeed, after reliving Madara's memories, Izuna had seen the truth. Hashirama's feelings toward Madara had always been sincere. He had never stopped seeing him as a true brother, even after betrayal. For that, for Madara's sake, Izuna had called him brother.
Hashirama's gaze softened, but then his mind caught on something Izuna said. "Izuna… when the matter of Hokage was discussed, are you saying Tobirama spoke ill of you and Madara?"
Izuna opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Madara clamped a hand over his lips, silencing him.
Izuna fought against him, tearing Madara's hand away. "Brother, didn't you say it's all over? Then let me speak! Let me tell Hashirama the truth of what happened that day!"
His voice cut through the tense air. He looked directly at Hashirama, eyes blazing, ready to lay bare everything.
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