The war was over.
The fields once painted in Kaguya blood had fallen silent, and what remained wasn't peace — just exhaustion. For the first time in years, the question wasn't who to fight, but what comes next.
The Amamiya, Hanagata, and Daitō clans had survived, but survival came with a price: politics.
After hearing that the Daitō front had finally ended their battle with the Kaguya, Raizen wasted no time. A messenger pigeon was sent flying through the smoke — his proposal for a formal alliance.
The Daitō compound fell into uneasy quiet once the message arrived. But their options were gone. Their forces were shattered, their coffers empty, and their enemies circling like vultures. In the end, the Daitō patriarch accepted Raizen's offer. Not out of trust — out of necessity.
And so, the three clans agreed to meet ten days later within the Amamiya compound to seal their pact. The future of all three would hinge on that gathering.
Before returning home, Raizen donated a portion of unused war supplies to the Hanagata as a gesture of good faith. A small move, but a clear one — he wanted this alliance to last.
As he led his troops back to Amamiya territory, Raizen couldn't help the cynical thought crossing his mind.
He'd expected this war to drag on for months, maybe years. But then, thanks to some mysterious manipulator named "Black Zetsu," the Kaguya's downfall came far too quickly. All those preparations, all that planning — suddenly meaningless. Typical.
Behind him, the Hanagata patriarch watched Raizen's retreating figure fade into the mist and sighed heavily.
"Why the sigh, Patriarch?" a younger shinobi asked quietly.
The old man shook his head, voice low. "This alliance… I can't tell whether it's a blessing or a curse."
Another replied, almost teasing. "Even if it's a curse, can it be worse than now? Besides, Amamiya Raizen doesn't strike me as the type to swallow others whole. He feels… different. Like he's trying to unite, not dominate."
The patriarch didn't respond right away. But deep down, he knew the boy might be right. If Raizen truly wanted conquest, neither the Daitō nor the Hanagata could have resisted him anyway.
Still, unease lingered.
Even among the Amamiya, not everyone understood Raizen's plan. Why bother uniting the clans instead of just absorbing them outright? The Amamiya had the strength. Yet instead of acting like conquerors, they were playing diplomats.
Only Raizen knew the reason — and he wasn't telling.
He'd seen too much, lived too long to believe power alone could bring safety. Ten years from now, the entire era would end under the hands of monsters like Madara and Hashirama. The age of clans would die no matter how many lands they seized.
If the Amamiya wanted to survive that storm, they needed structure. Not empires. Alliances.
When he finally returned to the clan compound, the Amamiya grounds were alive with motion again. Warriors returning home, smiths repairing armor, children whispering rumors of peace. It almost felt like normal life — almost.
Within days, both the Hanagata and Daitō delegations arrived at the Amamiya estate. Raizen personally waited for them at the gates, his expression calm, composed — but sharp as a drawn blade.
"Patriarch Hanagata. Patriarch Daitō."
His greeting was formal, but his tone carried a quiet warmth. The two clan heads seemed moved by the honor and took his hands in return.
Inside the Amamiya meeting hall, the alliance council began.
"Last time, we only received your letter," said the Daitō patriarch. "This time, we'd like to hear the terms directly from you."
"Of course," Raizen replied.
And he laid it all out — every clause, every vision. Shared defense. Shared resources. Coordinated training. A single territory where all three clans could build a unified settlement, not as subordinates, but as partners.
When he finished, silence filled the room. The Hanagata and Daitō exchanged glances, the air thick with unspoken calculations. Then, slowly, both nodded.
The pact was accepted.
By afternoon, preparations began for the signing ceremony. The entire Amamiya compound gathered to witness history.
Three banners fluttered in the wind — Amamiya, Hanagata, Daitō — standing side by side for the first time.
Raizen stood at the center. His hand brushed across the parchment as he spoke the words that would bind them all:
"From this day forward, the three clans will share joy and hardship as one."
The two patriarchs echoed in unison, "Agreed."
The covenant was sealed.
But Raizen wasn't done. After the ceremony, the leaders met again — this time to decide on territory.
"Since we're to unite," said the Hanagata patriarch, "where do you propose we build our shared lands, Raizen-dono?"
Raizen smiled faintly. "There's a place that can hold all of us. Wide plains surrounded by forests, near a waterfall under the cliffs. Protected. Fertile. Perfect for building something new."
The two patriarchs studied him. That tone — confident, already decided — told them this wasn't a spontaneous choice. Raizen had been planning this from the start.
They didn't know it yet, but the land he spoke of… would one day become the heart of a village known across the world.
Konoha.
And with that decision, the three-clan alliance marked the end of the old era — and the quiet beginning of the next.