He would never admit it if his brother asked but Izuna was tired. Tired of the war, tired of death, tired of wondering if all of his precious people would survive to see the turning of the new year. Sometimes he did sit and think on the ideas of peace that Madara had never quite given up on. They were big dreams and he could admit to himself that they did sound nice but as much as he wanted to he could never bring himself to trust in them.