The construction of Konoha's first library was finally complete. After ten straight days of planning, sealing, and layering defensive tags like paranoid wallpaper, the doors opened to the public. By dawn, the place was overflowing. If Raizen hadn't capped the entry numbers, the crowd would've probably crushed the building before the first book got borrowed.
Standing on the library steps, Raizen watched the tide of shinobi and villagers swarming through the aisles. A quiet smirk tugged at his lips. Good. The bait's taken. The seeds were planted—now all he had to do was wait for them to sprout into power.
Later that afternoon, Raizen sat cross-legged on the tatami opposite Hatake Gintama, sipping tea that had gone lukewarm during their argument.
"So you're really sure the Daimyō's going to agree to your terms?" Gintama asked, one eyebrow raised.
Raizen gave a lazy shrug. "Not sure. But he doesn't have a better option."
Gintama frowned. "Don't forget—Senju and Uchiha are still around. Power like theirs doesn't fade just because we built a library."
Raizen chuckled quietly. "Then we'll just see who runs out of patience first."
The older Hatake didn't push further. Instead, he shifted topics. "By the way… my son, Hoshino. He's graduated. Normal missions won't push him anymore. I want him in your Anbu."
Raizen blinked. "Anbu? He's what, thirteen? You trying to kill him or raise him?"
Gintama's tone was iron-flat. "He's ready. And even if he isn't, he'll learn fast enough."
Raizen sighed, rubbing his temple. "Fine. Ask the boy yourself. If he's crazy enough to say yes, I'll allow it."
Gintama nodded, a faint spark of pride flickering in his eyes. "Understood."
That night, the Hatake compound was quiet except for the crackling of the brazier. Gintama stood before his son, voice steady but heavy.
"Hoshino. Our clan came to the Konoha Alliance from nothing. The future of the Hatake name rests with your generation."
Hoshino straightened. "Yes, Father. I'll make you proud."
"I've already arranged it. You'll join the Amamiya Anbu tomorrow. Report at dawn."
Hoshino blinked, startled. "Anbu…?"
"It's a covert unit formed by Patriarch Amamiya. Dangerous, but necessary. You'll understand soon enough."
The boy hesitated, then bowed deeply. "I accept."
"Good." Gintama's voice softened just slightly. "Remember—don't shame the Hatake name."
"I won't."
By sunrise, Hatake Hoshino stood at the mouth of an underground base, the air sharp with iron and oil.
A masked shinobi faced him. "From now on, you have no name, no clan, no past. Your codename is Rei. You'll be assigned to the Second Division."
Hoshino accepted the black gear and vanished into the dim tunnels, his heart pounding.
From the shadows above, Raizen watched him go, arms crossed. Let's see if you can handle what's coming, kid. You're the first outsider to enter Anbu… but not the last.
Just then, an Anbu agent appeared beside him, kneeling. "Patriarch. A messenger from the Daimyō has arrived—secretly."
Raizen's expression sharpened. "So it begins." He vanished in a blur.
Back at the Amamiya compound, Raizen received the visitor—a robed man with the smug calm of someone used to carrying royal authority.
"Patriarch Amamiya," the emissary greeted, bowing slightly. "His Majesty sends his regards—and a letter."
He presented a lacquered box, pulling out a scroll sealed with crimson wax.
Raizen accepted it but didn't open it immediately. His eyes flicked up. "The Daimyō sends a message and a question, doesn't he?"
The emissary smiled. "Indeed. His Majesty wishes to know—what does Lord Amamiya think of the current state of the Land of Fire?"
Raizen leaned back, thinking. "The country's a mess. Civilians starve, fields burn, and the bloodline clans turn villages into battlegrounds. It all comes down to two failures—one, the Daimyō's inability to maintain order. Two, the endless clan wars."
The emissary nodded slowly. "And what solution does Lord Amamiya propose?"
"Simple," Raizen said dryly. "Stabilize the country and stop the killing. But I doubt speeches can tame hungry wolves."
The emissary's polite smile didn't waver. "Then perhaps, Patriarch, the answer lies in that letter."
Raizen broke the seal, the wax cracking like a spark in the silent room. Whatever came next, he knew the Warring States would never stay the same.