"I'll go back with you."
Hatake Gintama's voice was rough, like gravel scraping against steel. He stood there for a moment, unmoving, before finally letting the words fall.
Hatake Gintama might have been a man who didn't care much for clans or titles, but when it came to his children, even his stoic heart couldn't stay cold. Some things you can't turn your back on—blood, for one.
"Then go say your farewells to Chief Amamiya," said Hatake Ming, tone even. "I doubt he'd force you to stay."
Gintama gave a curt nod, said nothing, and turned on his heel. Outside the hall, Amamiya Raizen—waiting with his usual restless energy—saw the man's face and already knew the answer.
"The patriarch wants to hear my story?" Gintama asked after a long silence.
Raizen raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I'm all ears."
Gintama gave a small, humorless chuckle and motioned toward the far side of the compound. The two walked together until the noise of the clan faded behind them, stopping in a small clearing where the cicadas droned like ghosts.
"The Hatake Clan," Gintama began, his voice steady but distant, "was once a proud samurai family. Famous for our sword style—Hatake-ryū."
He paused, staring off toward the setting sun as if seeing another lifetime.
"But as the Warring States Era spread like wildfire, the world changed. Ninjas rose, and the samurai fell. Against chakra, armor and blades alone weren't enough. So the samurai families either adapted… or vanished."
Raizen nodded. He knew the story; everyone did. Samurai could be powerful—Mifune from the Land of Iron proved that. But their strength was like a cliff's edge—one step off and you were dead. A few reached the level of Kage; most couldn't beat a genin.
"The Hatake tried to adapt," Gintama continued. "But that choice split us apart. Half wanted to keep the samurai way. The other half—my father's side—wanted to embrace ninjutsu."
Raizen could almost see it: swords drawn not against outsiders, but brothers. Tradition versus survival.
"The clan tore itself apart," Gintama said softly. "I told people I left because of pressure. Truth is, it was disgust."
He looked up. The clouds drifted lazily above, white and calm, mocking the memories twisting inside him.
"My father was of the ninja faction. So I trained as a ninja, too. I was gifted, or so they said. The strongest of my generation. They pinned their hopes on me. I got married, had a son, thought I could build something better."
His eyes narrowed. "Then the wars worsened. Samurai and ninja clashed in the streets. My father died in one fight. My wife in another. I trained harder, thought I could end the bloodshed if I became strong enough. Foolish, right?"
Raizen didn't answer. There was nothing to say.
"One man can't change a clan," Gintama said, his voice barely above a whisper. "So I left. I took what was left of my pride and wandered. Became a ronin in a world that doesn't need them. Then I met you."
The silence that followed was heavy, almost reverent.
"The Hatake Clan…" Raizen muttered, half to himself. "A battlefield of ideals. Samurai honor versus ninja survival. War versus peace. No wonder it eats itself alive."
Gintama sighed. "I have a son. Hatake Hoshino. He was under the protection of Elder Zuomao. But the old man died recently. Without him, my boy's a target. So yes—" he looked up, eyes hard again "—I'm going back."
Raizen chuckled quietly. "Figured as much."
Gintama nodded. "I have to."
"Then I won't stop you," Raizen said. "But… I've got an idea."
Gintama tilted his head. "An idea?"
Raizen leaned forward, a spark in his eyes. "Become the patriarch of the Hatake Clan—and bring them into our alliance."
For a heartbeat, Gintama just stared. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"If I can really take back the clan," he said, voice low but sure, "then yes. The Hatake will stand with the Amamiya."
"Good." Raizen stood, brushing dust from his clothes, his grin sharp as a blade. "Then I'm coming with you."
Gintama blinked. "With me?"
"You said it yourself," Raizen replied, cracking his knuckles. "The Hatake are at their breaking point. If they're calling you back, it means they're desperate. Beat whoever's challenging you, and you take control. Then you choose the future."
"It's not that easy," Gintama said. "The samurai faction still holds power."
"Then we'll cut through them," Raizen said, his tone half-joking, half-deadly serious. "Two blades swing better than one. And trust me, I'm not dead weight."
For the first time that day, Gintama laughed—quiet but genuine.
"Then we'll do it. Together."
The two men stood beneath the dimming sky, the wind stirring the grass at their feet. Somewhere far off, thunder rolled.
The storm was coming.