"Ninja School?"
Senju Hashirama repeated the words slowly, like he was tasting something strange but kind of sweet. He clearly didn't get it yet. Raizen didn't bother explaining. He just waved for the Senju brothers to follow and walked inside.
The hall they entered was huge and empty. Not a soul in sight. Hashirama tilted his head; Tobirama frowned. Before either could ask anything, a bellow exploded from the next room.
"JINSUKE! You'd better not be dozing off again!"
A wave of laughter followed—sharp, unrestrained, the kind only kids could produce.
"I'm sorry, Teacher Akagi! I trained too long last night. Just… a little sleepy!"
More chatter erupted.
"Hmph! If you trained like Hoshino, I'd praise you instead of yelling!"
"Ugh, Hoshino again!? I swear I'll surpass him someday!"
"You? He got first place on his first week. Good luck with that."
Hashirama and Tobirama shared a look—curiosity won out, and they slipped past Raizen toward the voices. When they peeked through the doorway, they froze.
Inside were more than thirty children seated on tatami mats, each wearing different clan emblems—or none at all. A young instructor stood at the front, lecturing with the intensity of a battlefield commander scolding rookies.
Hashirama stared, breath catching. "These… these children…"
"All from different clans," Raizen said behind them. "When the Alliance children turn five, they get sent here. Same classes. Same lessons. Same future."
"Ninja school…" Hashirama whispered, excitement building behind his eyes like a rising storm.
He understood instantly. Raizen could see it.
"If kids grow up together," Raizen said quietly, "they stop being strangers. They learn to fight together. Eat together. Laugh together. Those bonds? They'll matter more than clan names someday."
Hashirama looked like he'd just been handed the missing half of his soul.
Before he could respond, Teacher Akagi clapped loudly. "Alright! Enough theory. It's time for actual combat class! Everyone outside!"
"Yes, sensei!"
The stampede was immediate—thirty tiny whirlwinds of chakra burst out of the room… only to screech to a halt when they saw Raizen.
"Raizen-sama!"
They bowed with a mix of awe and excitement before sprinting off toward the training fields.
Teacher Akagi rushed out after them and froze when he spotted Raizen. "P-Patriarch!" He straightened so fast his spine probably regretted living.
Raizen waved lazily. "You're a school instructor. Ease up with the formalities."
"Yes!"
"Now take us to watch their training."
They moved through more classrooms—each filled with kids, maybe four hundred total. Tobirama's frown deepened with every step. Hashirama's awe swelled. Raizen didn't miss a thing.
Once grown, these kids would link clans together like threads in a tapestry. In ten years, the Alliance wouldn't be seven clans—it would be one community. That was the point.
They reached the training field. Rows of children lined up before wooden targets. First test: kunai throwing.
Predictably, Hatake Hoshino nailed a perfect score.
Also predictably, Jinsuke managed to hit absolutely nothing except the ground.
Teacher Akagi exploded.
"JINSUKE! WHAT IS THAT!? EVEN BLIND DEER THROW BETTER THAN YOU!"
Jinsuke cowered, staring at the floor like it personally betrayed him. The kunai didn't even reach the target—it rolled pathetically halfway.
Next came sparring. Fate, being the comedian it is, pitted Jinsuke against Hoshino.
It lasted three seconds.
Jinsuke ended up sulking in a corner, hugging his knees and radiating pure defeat.
Hashirama stepped forward, concern dripping from every pore. Raizen blocked him with a hand.
"Let him," Raizen muttered. Then he walked straight to the boy.
Jinsuke scrambled up right away. "P-Patriarch!"
Raizen stood over him, arms crossed. "Lost again?"
Jinsuke nodded like he was confessing to murder. "Yes…"
"If you want to get strong, you work for it. Simple."
Jinsuke bit his lip. "But… I'll never catch up to Hoshino. I'm just not talented."
Raizen snorted. "Why are you giving up? You planning to be mediocre forever? That your dream?"
Jinsuke nearly jumped. "N-No! I'll beat Hoshino one day! I swear I will!"
His eyes burned with childish fury as he glared at the popular prodigy surrounded by girls. "Why is he so cool!? Damn him!"
Raizen couldn't help it—he laughed. "Then how about this? I'll teach you a jutsu."
Jinsuke froze. "A jutsu? Are you serious!?"
"Of course. But I'll only show it once. Whether you learn it or not is up to you."
Jinsuke clenched his fists, trembling with determination.
"Look up," Raizen said.
The boy obeyed, staring at the tall tree behind him—completely unaware that Raizen was about to drag him, kicking and screaming, into a very different future.
And this? This was only the first step.