"Amamiya Yuki has always been our clan's best sensor-nin," Raizen said, his voice carrying through the hall. "Sharp intuition, sharp mind. She's neutral in all faction disputes and has never sided with any rival line. If anyone's fit to oversee intelligence, it's her."
The crowd murmured in agreement. Yuki stood below him — tight combat gear, calm eyes, posture like drawn steel. She didn't need to flaunt anything; her presence spoke for itself. No wonder half the clan called her their goddess.
People love neutrality… and beauty. Especially when both come in one dangerously composed package.
"Any objections to Amamiya Yuki's appointment as Intelligence Elder?" Raizen asked, scanning the room.
Silence. Even the old guard didn't dare stir.
"Then it's settled," Raizen said. "From this day on, Amamiya Yuki will serve as Intelligence Elder of the clan."
"The Patriarch is wise!" the shinobi chorused, bowing their heads.
Raizen exhaled. One more seat filled. Four more headaches to go.
"The United Front Elder and the Intelligence Elder are confirmed," he continued. "Now we finalize the rest — Material Affairs, Internal Affairs, and Task Management."
The hall buzzed again, voices overlapping.
"Patriarch! I nominate Amamiya Riku for Materials Elder. She's meticulous and—"
"Amamiya Aoki should handle Internal Affairs—"
"Patriarch, allow me to propose—"
The noise grew thick enough to choke on. Raizen raised his hand, and the clamor fell quiet.
"The Materials Elder manages one of the clan's lifelines — supply and logistics," he said. "Amamiya Kei will take that role."
No one objected. They knew better. Kei could turn a ration scroll into an army.
"As for Internal Affairs… it requires strength, decisiveness, and loyalty." Raizen's tone hardened. "Amamiya Ten will take that position."
Still no argument. Only tense nods and quiet acknowledgment.
"That leaves one more — Task Elder," Raizen said. "I'll let you decide this one."
The clan members exchanged uncertain glances. Everyone knew what he was doing — letting them feel like they had a say after appointing everyone who mattered.
A chūnin stood. "Patriarch, I recommend Amamiya Wata for Task Elder!"
Raizen thought for a second. Wata had handled the mission rosters before, and while he wasn't brilliant, he was dependable.
And dependable is gold in times like these.
"Fine. Amamiya Wata will serve as Task Elder."
He stood, his shadow stretching across the firelit floor. "Amamiya Wata, Amamiya Ten, Amamiya Kei, Amamiya Yuki — step forward!"
The four knelt before him in unison. The scent of ink and burning oil filled the room.
"From this day on, you are the appointed Elders of the Amamiya Clan — United Front, Internal Affairs, Materials, Intelligence, and Task," Raizen declared. "Carry the clan's burden with pride, and don't you dare disappoint me… or your people."
"Yes, Patriarch!" they answered as one, their voices low but firm.
Raizen's eyes softened — barely. "Good. Now, go handle your duties. The clan won't rebuild itself."
They bowed deeply and withdrew.
Once the hall quieted again, Raizen's voice cut through the embers.
"Now that the Elder positions are set, there's another issue."
Confused whispers rippled through the crowd.
Another issue? The appointments alone had taken all night.
"Our clan's foundation is thin," Raizen said. "We barely held together after the last war. So I've decided — we'll recruit outside ninja to strengthen the ranks."
That was like throwing a kunai into a hornet's nest.
"Patriarch, if we do that," one elder protested, "will the Amamiya Clan even be the Amamiya Clan anymore?"
Raizen's eyes narrowed. "Relax. They won't bear our name. They'll have the right to live within our territory — nothing more. In exchange, they'll fight under our banner."
The hall fell into heavy thought.
Bloodlines were sacred. But desperation had a way of rewriting the rules.
"If they only gain residence rights," said one of the older shinobi slowly, "they'll protect this place as their own home. It benefits both sides."
One by one, nods followed. Pragmatism always wins over pride when survival's on the table.
Raizen watched them — men and women bound by history and fear.
The clan had always prided itself on endurance, not purity. That was their real bloodline — stubbornness.
Still, one problem remained.
"Infiltration," he muttered. "If we open our gates, spies will slip in."
He looked up again, voice colder. "To counter that, I'll form a new covert force — Anbu. Their task will be simple: monitor, investigate, and eliminate any threat that compromises the clan."
The word echoed strangely in the room.
"Anbu?" someone repeated, puzzled. "What kind of force is that?"
Raizen smirked faintly. "A shadow that watches from the dark. You'll understand soon enough."
And with that, history quietly shifted.
The first Anbu unit — born not in the Hidden Leaf, but in the blood-soaked dirt of the Warring States.