"More than a fair reason," he nods. Giving voice to a truth was important when the injustice was so grave, and while he understood that they themselves worked in the ubiquitous shadows and places that treaded finely on that line between right and wrong (some more than others), there was a line. A time for clarity. An importance to communication and knowledge.

The thing was... most of the lives he had taken were... "We must divorce ourselves from our emotions on the battlefield. This was how I thought. Through law, rationality, critical thinking, we can achieve peace. As if I could organize something like freedom." He almost chuckled to himself.

He'd never... been so honest with someone. Nor open. Not since Hashirama, really. And sometimes there wasn't a need for words exchanged between them. He understood Tobirama in a way no one else did. Reasonably, he supposed, they grew up with one another. "In those warring times, more often I worked as spy and infiltrator. Still, lives were taken. An unavoidable event. But on that day I was hungry." He sighed. "I knew the rift it would cause. That it was Madara's brother, his last brother left alive, but I didn't care."

Now actually hungry in a less metaphorical sense. What is this food? He'll pick at it a little, eyes avoiding the other man for a moment as words continued. "In the end, it did nothing for my grief. Caused more problems than it solved, but it's a debt that was paid. So I remember it."