The Genin assessment left Amamiya Raizen exhausted — not from combat, but from realization. Watching those civilian-born and wandering ninjas struggle was like watching players grind an impossible quest with starter gear. No matter how much talent they had, they were still shackled by their lack of resources.
That day, Raizen decided he'd change that.
If the Warring States was a game, then bloodline clans were the pay-to-win players. The rest were just trying not to die on the tutorial map.
So he made up his mind — if Konoha's future was to mean anything, it had to lift everyone.
The wandering ninjas in their twenties or thirties were already set in their ways. Hand them an S-rank scroll and they'd still choke halfway through the hand seals. But children? They could be molded. Raised. Taught from scratch.
That's why Raizen's next big project wasn't another war plan or alliance treaty. It was the foundation for a Ninja Academy — and with it, a library that would become its beating heart.
The structure came to him like blueprints on instinct.
Three floors. Simple, clean, efficient.
The first floor — open to all villagers and students. A place filled with history, chakra theory, and the basics of survival. Farmers could walk in to read, learn, and maybe dream of becoming something more than cannon fodder.
The second floor — restricted to active ninjas of the Konoha Alliance. This level would contain only the most basic of combat techniques, C-rank at best: Clone Technique, Body Flicker, Substitution. Child's play for elites, but life-changing for the powerless.
Raizen wasn't worried about spies. Any major clan would scoff at such scraps. Let them. For a civilian ninja, a single C-rank jutsu could be the difference between dying nameless and living long enough to matter.
And then, there was the third floor — where the real treasure would lie.
B-rank, A-rank, even S-rank techniques. Access granted only to those who proved themselves: prodigies, veterans, heroes of the Alliance. Each jutsu earned by merit, not bloodline.
Naturally, that floor would be guarded like a daimyo's vault.
Raizen's plan didn't end there.
He'd build a second library, one within the Amamiya Clan itself — a private archive.
Its structure mirrored the first, but the third floor would store the clan's greatest secrets: Dust Release, Explosive Clay, Rasengan, Chidori, and more — all jutsu Raizen had gained through the strange "system" that guided his fate.
To access these scrolls, even family members would have to earn it — through service, sacrifice, or pure genius. Power wouldn't be inherited; it'd be earned.
The next morning, he called a clan meeting.
Dozens of Amamiya ninjas gathered, murmuring among themselves. Some thought it was about the daimyo again. Others assumed another alliance policy. But as soon as Raizen entered, the room fell silent.
He stood there for a moment, gazing at his people — so many faces, tired and proud, hardened by the same endless war.
"Without realizing it," Raizen said, his tone low and steady, "the Amamiya have become a major clan in this age of blood."
A ripple of surprise ran through the hall. He paused, then smirked faintly.
"But let's not kid ourselves. In the last Genin exam, only one of our new generation passed. One. That's not a powerhouse clan — that's a lucky survivor."
He straightened, voice sharpening.
"To change that, I'm establishing a Library for the Amamiya."
He explained everything — the three floors, the access rules, the link to the Konoha Library.
The hall erupted in whispers. Some protested, worried about exposing clan techniques. Others nodded, recognizing the long-term vision.
Raizen waited until the noise peaked, then simply raised a hand. Silence returned.
"This library will decide if our clan rises… or disappears into history. Discussion's over. We begin immediately."
The older ninjas bowed deeply. "Yes, Patriarch."
Construction began the next day.
Yamamoto-san supervised the logistics. Amamiya Itsuo handled design. Anbu watched from the shadows, already securing the perimeter.
Not everyone was happy about it, of course. When Raizen summoned the allied clans, the room filled with polite tension.
They all knew what this was — a plan that favored the common-born. A power shift.
So, Raizen compromised. "I'm not asking for your clan's forbidden techniques," he said evenly. "Just C-rank jutsu. Enough for every child to start from somewhere."
Reluctantly, they agreed. Pride had its limits, and refusing the Alliance's leader outright wasn't an option. Each clan contributed minor scrolls — nothing precious, but enough to fill shelves.
The higher-rank techniques? Raizen quietly supplied those himself. The spoils of his strange fate now became the foundation of a new world.
When word of the library spread through the Konoha Alliance, the reaction was electric.
Civilians cheered. Wandering ninjas wept. For the first time, they had access to power — not through bloodline, but through effort.
And in the quiet of his room that night, Amamiya Raizen smiled.
If the world wouldn't hand him miracles, he'd build them himself. One scroll at a time.