Tobirama gives a nod in understanding. He knows how that feels, and perhaps he feels this way for his brothers to be honest. This is far from the first time he's honored their death. Every moment he's capable of doing so, he takes it. He inhales, slipping a damp white hair out of his face.

"Apology accepted," the Senju wanders further into his room and sits cross legged on the bed. A tea he'd been steeping gets picked up to further warm his hands. "The justice would have been a peaceful village where children were safe from war, where Shinobi could be trained properly and assigned tasks and jobs based on skill and merit rather than casually thrown to their death."

This was not what ended up happening. It seemed no matter how hard they tried, war was inevitable. Only now does there seem to be unity, but is that because the threat comes from the outside world and not their own? "It was Itama who believed justice should be paid an eye for an eye. I suppose it was just to end up being the one who killed Izuna, Madara's brother. Hashirama could never, and Madara never deserved the love my brother gave him."

He gives it a long pause, takes a sip of his tea, and sighs. "It's the principle of everything that frustrates me, not the topics spoken about."