SON OF HASIRAMA-SENJU

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"No, brother!" Izuna suddenly spoke, his voice sharp.

Madara blinked, snapping out of his thoughts.

Izuna's eyes narrowed as he saw his brother staring into Hashirama's eyes like they were long-lost lovers about to embrace. He gritted his teeth, his three-tomoe Sharingan spinning.

"Don't be fooled by them, brother!" Izuna said firmly. "War isn't going to end so easily. As long as one clan is still standing between us, there will be no peace! If we win… If we defeat them… the Uchiha will become the strongest clan! Then we can bring peace on our own terms."

His voice was filled with conviction, but deep inside, there was something else—resentment.

Izuna had always distrusted Hashirama, not just because he was a Senju, but because Madara… liked him too much. It wasn't just friendship. Sometimes, it felt like something more (ROMANTIC ). His brother spoke of Hashirama constantly, as if the Senju was more important than anything else. But not in front of others—only in front of him.

Izuna hated Hashirama.

But there was another reason, a deeper one.

The Senju had taken too much from him.

His older brother and sister had been killed by the Senju clan in war. His sister—who was older than Madara—was pregnant when she died. She had been poisoned by the Senju while carrying a child. And who was responsible for that?

The Senju brothers.

Hashirama's brothers.

Izuna had taken his revenge. He had killed two of them—the brothers of Hashirama and Tobirama. But still, that loss could never be erased.

Madara clenched his fists, his mind clouded.

He was just like Hashirama. Deep inside, he was a kind person. He had the same dream as his friend—to create a peaceful world. But there was something more important than that dream.

His brother.

Izuna was the only family he had left. He had lost too many siblings already. He couldn't lose him too.

Madara looked at Hashirama again. He trusted him. He really did.

But…

There was hesitation in his eyes. A hint of doubt.

Because of his brother.

And if there was one thing all Uchiha had in common… it was that older brothers were always possessive of their younger ones.

"Brother," Izuna continued, his voice filled with anger, "have you forgotten? Our clan members… our own brothers… they were killed by them!"

Madara's expression darkened.

Izuna knew his brother always dreamed of peace, but he didn't want to discourage him completely. So instead, he kept repeating the same thing—if they destroyed the Senju, or at least dominated them, then peace would come naturally. The Uchiha would be the strongest. And once they had control, bringing peace would be simple.

And Madara had believed that.

That's why he kept fighting.

For Izuna.

For their fallen clan members.

Madara trusted his brother more than anything. Even if Izuna told him to kill Hashirama, he would hesitate… but in the end, he would do it. That's how much he loved his brother.

But still…

Madara couldn't ignore it.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized—the war would never truly end this way. If the Uchiha and Senju kept fighting, there would always be more battles, more blood, more suffering.

Only if they united… only then could Hashirama's dream come true.

At that moment, Arata suddenly stepped forward, standing right in the middle between Madara and Hashirama.

He looked straight at Madara and took a deep breath.

"You want to dance too?" Arata said.

For a moment, there was silence.

"...What?"

Hashirama, Madara, Izuna, and Tobirama all turned to him with confused expressions.

Arata stood there, frozen.

Did I just say that out loud?

He could feel everyone's stares drilling into him. He knew he looked stupid. But what could he do? This was the best chance to shift their attention—to start his legendary Talk no Jutsu!

Then, unexpectedly…

Madara laughed.

"Hashirama, look at your kid!" Madara smirked, crossing his arms.

Arata frowned. Madara was looking at him like he was just a little child.

And then—

Ding!

A voice echoed in Arata's mind.

"Host, you have completed your task! You have now obtained 30% of Talk no Jutsu from Tenji Otsutsuki! All related information will be transferred to your mind."

Arata's eyes widened as a flood of knowledge rushed into his brain.

So this is it…

He could feel it. He now understood how to read people better. Their emotions. Their thoughts. Their hidden struggles.

He smirked.

"Interesting… Tenji Otsutsuki truly is the god of Talk no Jutsu."

"Boy, are you mocking my elder brother?" Izuna said, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Arata.

"Arata! What are you doing? Come back!" Hashirama called out, his voice filled with urgency.

He could see how Izuna reacted. Things could escalate fast, and he didn't want that. He quickly moved to pull his son back.

But Arata didn't stop.

"I'm not mocking him," Arata said, shaking his head. "I just want to ask… don't you both want peace? A world where everyone can live together? Where there's no war, no killing? Where people, no matter their clan, can live happily?"

Izuna scowled, but Arata continued.

"A place we build. A place where our children—your clan's children, my clan's children—can grow up safe. Where they can learn whatever they want. Our ninjutsu, your ninjutsu, your clan's secret techniques, our secret techniques… even techniques from other clans. They can learn freely."

Madara and Izuna didn't speak, but they listened.

"And after learning, if they want to earn money, we can create a system—a way to take missions. A way where they don't have to fight and die in war to survive. Doesn't that sound better?"

Arata took a deep breath.

"How long have we been fighting? Hundreds of years. Thousands. So many people have died… your clansmen, my clansmen… your brother, your sister. My brother, my sister. Why did they die?"

Izuna clenched his fists, his Sharingan spinning.

"Because of war."

Arata met his gaze.

"But if there was no war, they wouldn't have died. They would've lived long, grown old, and passed away naturally."

He turned to Madara.

"That's why my father is here. He wants to end this. And I know… I know you and my father were good friends once."

Madara's expression changed for just a moment, but he said nothing.

"So that's why I stepped forward," Arata said. "Because I'm still young. I have a long life ahead of me. And I want other children to have the same."

His voice grew softer.

"Tell me, Madara… don't you think the children of our clans deserve to live longer?"

Madara's fingers twitched slightly.

Arata looked at him seriously.

"How many children have lost their parents because of this war? How many have become orphans, with no one to rely on?"

Izuna's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't speak.

"And because they're orphans, they grow up wanting revenge. Then they fight… and kill… and die… and the cycle repeats. Again. And again."

Arata clenched his fists.

"This war has created a cycle of hatred."

Silence fell.

Madara looked at Arata, his expression unreadable. Izuna's Sharingan was still active, but his hands had stopped trembling in anger.

Hashirama and Tobirama watched quietly.

The words had been spoken.

Now… they waited for Madara's answer.

"And you, Izuna..."

Arata looked straight at Izuna Uchiha. His voice was steady, but his eyes were sharp.

"You know your brother, right? You know Madara's dream from back then."

Izuna frowned, but Arata didn't stop.

"But what did you do?" Arata asked. "When you had the chance, did you try to make your brother's dream come true?"

Arata shook his head.

"No. What did you do? The same killing. The same war. The same dominance… just like your father, just like your grandfather. The same way my grandfather and uncle did too."

Izuna's fists clenched, his Sharingan spinning.

"But you put my father and your brother on opposite sides," Arata said. "Why? Because they wanted the same thing—peace?"

Silence.

"Because of that, this war didn't stop," Arata continued. "It's still going today. But I saw something… I noticed something."

Arata's eyes locked onto Izuna.

"Every time my father was on the battlefield, you sent someone else. And every time Madara was fighting, you made sure my father wasn't there."

Izuna's face darkened.

"What are you trying to say?" Izuna said coldly.

"You already know," Arata said. "If you had let my father and your brother fight back then, if you had let them meet as clan leaders, they would have stopped this war. Right there. Right then."

Madara's eyes widened slightly. Even Hashirama and Tobirama looked surprised at Arata's words.

Arata took a deep breath.

"Go ask your people, Izuna. Ask your clan members. Do they want peace?"

Izuna didn't say anything.

"I asked my clan yesterday," Arata said. "They want peace. They're tired of war."

Izuna's lips pressed into a thin line.

"Yes, they have hatred," Arata admitted. "But when I talked to them, they realized something."

He pointed at Izuna.

"Go and ask your own people. See for yourself. Do they still want war? Or do they want peace too?"

The wind blew between them.

"If your people want peace… then we can build it together," Arata said. "Unite our clans. Make a place where everyone can live happily."

His voice softened.

"Wouldn't it be better… if all our families could live together? Without fear?"

Arata watched Izuna's reaction closely.

Right now, the iron was hot. He had to strike.

If he could push a little more, if he could make the Uchiha hesitate, then this war could end.

That was Arata's first goal.

And as for the second…Well, the system had given him an option. Something about marrying an Uchiha.

That part was… *Cough*private*Cough*.