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“I don’t think we should be letting new clans in this quickly. Everything is already so complicated,” Izuna finally said, his gaze distant and pinched. “We don’t know if we can trust any of them, but now they’re moving into our backyards? We’re supposed to break bread with them and pretend they didn’t kill our brothers?”
Madara had heard these arguments before, usually shouted, but now Izuna sounded adrift, as though his prior convictions were abstract compared to the concrete reality around him.
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Spring blooms in Konoha for the first time, and Madara finds, despite everything, that peace rather suits him.