On the other side, inside the assembly hall…
The meeting had already begun, but Teizawa's mouth twitched.
He'd imagined all kinds of openings.
Passionate. Rousing. Sharply confrontational. Even tense enough to spark a fight…
After all, giving people who'd never been allowed to participate in decision-making a voice overnight was bound to create friction.
He just hadn't expected…
"Kazekage-sama!"
A middle-aged genin stood up, sincerity written all over his face.
"My family has three generations crammed into a thirty-square-meter shack, and the roof still leaks when it rains."
"Could you… could you have the village allocate some money so we can repair the house?"
Teizawa: "…"
"Kazekage-sama!"
Another speaker stood, this time a civilian representative, eyes rimmed red.
"I've wanted to be a shinobi since I was little, but no matter what I do, I can't extract chakra."
"D-do you… do you have a way to make me a shinobi?"
"I'm willing to work like an ox for the village!"
Teizawa: "…"
"Kazekage-sama!"
This time it was an elderly man, rising shakily with a cane.
"I've been a bachelor my whole life. I'm about to be buried, and I still haven't tasted a woman."
"So… could you maybe issue me a wife?"
"Pfft…"
Kankuro, seated on the side benches, nearly choked on his own spit.
Temari covered her face, unable to watch.
Even Gaara, who was usually expressionless, had the corner of his eye twitch three times.
Teizawa inhaled. Then inhaled again.
He told himself: Calm down. This is a necessary stage of democracy.
This is the primitive form of the masses finding their voice.
This is…
"Kazekage-sama! My son is five this year and wants to attend the Academy, but the tuition is too expensive…"
"Kazekage-sama! The public well in the West District has been broken for three months and no one's fixed it…"
"Kazekage-sama! Sand bandits stole my sheep. Can you send shinobi to help me find them…"
"Kazekage-sama! I want to transfer to logistics. The front line is too dangerous…"
"Kazekage-sama! Can you raise the lunch standard a little…"
Voices overlapped and surged.
It sounded like a marketplace, haggling over prices.
The smile on Teizawa's face stiffened at a visible pace.
And on either side of him, Chiyo and Ebizo…
Their expressions could no longer be described as merely "ugly."
Granny Chiyo's hand clenched her cane so hard her knuckles went white, the top of the cane trembling slightly.
The expression on her wrinkled face was spectacular…
Anger, helplessness, regret.
And a sliver of schadenfreude that said, I knew it would be like this.
She turned her head.
And shot Teizawa a vicious glare.
The meaning was painfully obvious:
Look at the mess you made!
What "representative assembly," what "everyone participates."
Now what?
Every petty, trivial nuisance has been dragged onto the floor!
Is this really worth getting the entire village to run around in circles?
Teizawa kept his face steady as he took that glare head-on.
But honestly, inside he felt a little shaky too.
He'd miscalculated.
He silently reviewed it in his head.
He'd focused on democratic participation and consolidating public support…
And forgot to account for the baseline civic literacy of these shinobi-world locals…
They genuinely had never experienced the concept of "raising issues" like this.
Ebizo sat beside Chiyo.
He'd still held a sliver of expectation for this assembly at first.
He wanted to see what this young man could pull off.
He wanted to see whether the elected representatives could propose anything valuable for Sand Village.
Now he'd seen it.
Fix houses, issue wives, find sheep, raise meal stipends…
At some point, Ebizo's fingers stopped stroking his beard.
He stared at the representatives who kept jumping to their feet to speak, competing with each other.
A complicated light flickered through his cloudy eyes.
Maybe… he thought silently…
Putting hope in ordinary people was itself a mistake.
On the side benches, the jōnin didn't look any happier.
Some frowned, some folded their arms with cold smiles, some lowered their eyes without speaking…
And some traded meaningful looks with the people beside them.
"I knew it would turn out like this…"
A jōnin muttered under his breath to a companion.
"Letting genin and civilians meddle in village affairs. What good outcome could you possibly get?"
The companion nodded, voice just as low.
"Kazekage-sama this time… really is being reckless."
"Exactly. Bringing this petty nonsense into the assembly? If word gets out, people will laugh their heads off."
"Sigh. Youthful impulsiveness…"
They thought their voices were low enough.
But what kind of hearing did shinobi have?
Those words, every single one, reached Teizawa's ears.
His expression didn't change.
But his eyes sank, just a little.
Heh.
He laughed coldly to himself.
So they were already singing doom?
Already questioning him?
He swept his gaze over the whispering jōnin, then over the representatives still scrambling to speak, and finally let it rest on Chiyo's face, which practically read, Told you so.
And then…
He smiled.
Not a bitter smile. Not a helpless one.
A smile with weight. Certain. Almost amused.
What are you in such a rush for?
He told himself.
This is only the beginning.
He raised a hand and gave a small wave.
It wasn't a big gesture.
But for some reason, the entire hall fell quiet instantly.
Everyone looked at him, waiting.
Teizawa rose slowly and stepped to the center of the podium.
His eyes swept over faces full of hope, faces full of worry, faces full of doubt, faces full of gloating…
Then he spoke.
"About the questions raised just now…"
His voice wasn't loud, but it was razor-clear.
"The one who needs their house repaired, report your address to the civil affairs office after this. The village will organize an assessment."
"The one who wants to become a shinobi, leave your name. Go to the Academy tomorrow for an aptitude test."
"If you truly can't extract chakra, the village will arrange other work for you. You won't starve."
"As for the one asking for a wife…"
He paused, his gaze landing on the old man, the corner of his mouth lifting.
"Get one yourself. The Kazekage Tower doesn't handle that."
"Hahahahaha…"
The entire hall exploded into laughter.
The old man laughed too.
His wrinkled face flushed red, but he looked happier than he had any right to be.
Teizawa waited for the laughter to settle before continuing.
"All other issues, if they can be solved, the village will find a way to solve them."
"If they can't be solved immediately, you'll still get an explanation."
His gaze swept the room, deepening.
"But…"
He paused, and his tone grew heavier.
"The purpose of this assembly is not for you to bring up your personal difficulties."
"A broken roof, the village will handle it. Wanting to become a shinobi, the village will help…"
"But those aren't things that can only be solved by convening an assembly."
His voice rose slowly.
"What truly needs to be said here are the things that…"
"One person can't solve. One household can't solve. Even one clan can't solve."
"The things that concern all of Sand Village, and every person's future."
"The things that… if you don't say them now, you may never get another chance to say them again."
The hall went quiet.
Those representatives who'd been fighting to speak a moment ago looked at each other, thinking.
Teizawa's gaze fixed on one spot in the crowd.
A young genin sat there, head lowered, something strange flickering in his eyes.
"You."
Teizawa lifted his hand and pointed at him.
"You speak."
The genin jerked his head up, face full of excitement.
"I… I…"
He froze for a beat, then sucked in a breath, and unfolded a crumpled sheet of paper in his hands.
(End of Chapter)
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