The air inside the Amamiya Council Hall felt sharp enough to cut through silence itself.
Amamiya Raizen sat cross-legged on the raised platform, his gaze steady as steel. Across from him knelt four Hatake shinobi — the leader, a grizzled man named Hatake Ming, and three younger ninja whose eyes betrayed both tension and awe.
"I'm listening," Raizen said coolly. "What business does the Hatake clan have with my Amamiya?"
Ming straightened his back. "Patriarch Amamiya, we've come for one of our own — Hatake Gintama."
Raizen's brows rose slightly. "Gintama?" He tapped his fingers on the armrest once, thoughtful. "So the Hatake finally remember he exists."
He turned his head. "Summon him."
Before the Hatake could blink, a shadow flickered beside Raizen and vanished. Ming's pupils shrank. The speed reminded him of the silent watchers in the forest earlier — unseen, disciplined, and far too close for comfort.
While they waited, Raizen leaned back, expression unreadable. "I'm curious. What does the Hatake clan want with him?"
Ming didn't hesitate. "We wish to bring him home — to take his rightful place as the new patriarch."
The room went quiet. Even Raizen's faint smirk faltered. "Patriarch, huh?" He tilted his head. "I thought your old patriarch was still breathing."
Ming's mouth tightened. "That's… a matter of clan affairs, Amamiya-dono. Not something I can explain."
Raizen nodded slightly. "Then explain it to him when he arrives. If Gintama wishes to go, I won't stop him."
He spoke it like it didn't matter, but his eyes flickered with something else — quiet trust. Raizen had seen Gintama's loyalty firsthand. The man bled Amamiya red now, even if his hair was Hatake silver.
Moments later, footsteps echoed through the corridor. The door slid open, and Hatake Gintama stepped in.
Silver hair, sharp eyes, the kind of calm that comes from surviving too much.
"Gintama!" one of the younger Hatake shouted, half rising before Ming silenced them with a gesture.
Gintama ignored them and bowed toward Raizen. "Patriarch."
Raizen nodded. "They said they have something to discuss with you. I'll give you privacy."
He rose and left, cloak whispering behind him. He didn't linger — didn't need to. Whatever choice Gintama made, Raizen already knew the man's heart.
When the door closed, silence filled the room. Gintama looked at Ming and the others without warmth. "Elder Ming. Why are you here?"
"To bring you home," Ming said simply.
"I'm not going back."
The words fell like a blade.
The young kunoichi behind Ming frowned. "Why not? The Hatake clan is your home!"
"It was," Gintama said. "Not anymore. My home is here."
The girl's face twisted. "Here? Among strangers? They'll never see you as one of them — you're a Hatake!"
"It's not just the Amamiya," Gintama interrupted, eyes narrowing. "You saw it outside, didn't you? Ueshi, Hanabira, Katori… all living side by side. No feuds, no killing for banners. This—" he gestured toward the open door, "—this is what I've always wanted. A place where shinobi don't have to look over their shoulders every time the wind changes."
His voice hardened, every word honed by years of wandering. "That's my home now."
For a moment, no one spoke. Even Ming's stern expression softened.
"I saw it too," Ming admitted. "If what I saw was real, then I can't blame you. If I were younger, I'd stay and protect this peace myself."
But then his tone shifted, grave and heavy. "Still, your blood is Hatake. You can't change that. Whether you want it or not, that clan runs in your veins."
"Maybe," Gintama said, voice cool as frost. "But the past is a corpse I buried long ago. I won't dig it up again."
Ming's lips twitched into something between a smile and a grimace. "You won't have to dig, boy. It's already clawing its way out."
He leaned forward. "Since Elder Zuo Mao's death, Hoshino's life has been… difficult. Without protection, I don't know how much longer he'll last."
The name struck like lightning.
Gintama's composure cracked. "...Hoshino?"
Ming nodded slowly. "Your son, isn't he?"
For the first time, Hatake Gintama's calm faltered completely. His fists clenched, breath shaking. The room's silence thickened.
He didn't need to ask for details. The truth was already eating through his chest.
Some bonds, no matter how far you run, never stop bleeding.