"There is no war… only the future?"
Raizen's words hung in the air, sharp as kunai. The wandering ninjas paused, their hearts stirring with thoughts they had long buried. In this ruthless Warring States era, they were nothing—footnotes in the lives of the great clans. Yet, for the first time, someone was speaking of more than survival.
"Yes," Raizen continued, voice steady, "don't underestimate your own strength. As long as we unite, we will grow stronger. One day, our combined power will make every ninja tremble."
A young ninja, eyes wide with awe, stood shakily. "Your Excellency Raizen… if we unite, do you want us to obey you? To lend you our strength? To become… the running dogs of your clan?"
The words were blunt, but they broke the hesitation like a fist through paper. Raizen's lips curved in a faint smirk. "A running dog? That's just your doubt talking. I want your strength—not to command, but to build. To create something that matters."
He let his gaze sweep over the ragged, weary faces before him. "I dream of ending this endless cycle of hatred and war. But I cannot do it alone. I am Amamiya Raizen, and I ask for your help. I need your power!"
The words struck the wandering ninjas like a bolt of lightning. For the first time, they felt their existence mattered—not just as pawns in someone else's game, but as essential pieces in a larger dream.
"If you want to help me end this chaotic era, follow me. Yes, we are weak now—but I promise you, one day we will grow strong enough to make even the greatest clans fear us."
Raizen turned sharply, moving forward. Hatake Gintama, who had been silently absorbing every word, blinked at the audacity. Peaceful… a world without war? he thought, but his resolve hardened. He blew a horn to signal the others—and one by one, hundreds of wandering ninjas followed Raizen's lead, their eyes alight with hope.
Raizen breathed deeply as he surveyed the growing swarm behind him. This was only the beginning—the first wave. Soon, others would join, until their strength could challenge the very structure of the Warring States. One day, he would build a true village—a force no ninja could ignore.
"Master Raizen, where are we heading now?" Gintama asked, still unsure.
Raizen glanced back at the group, calm but resolute. "From today, you are my companions. You will no longer wander without purpose. We return to the Amamiya Clan. From now on, you are Amamiya ninjas."
A hush fell over the group. Many were thrilled—finally, a place to belong—but fear lingered. Clans rarely accepted outsiders. Bloodlines mattered. Tradition mattered. Could the Amamiya really welcome them?
"I know your doubts," Raizen said, catching the unspoken fears. "The Amamiya Clan will accept you. We are small, yes—but we are survivors. We need you. Together, we will grow stronger, faster, and prepare for the wars to come."
Hope and determination spread among the wandering ninjas, their nerves steadying at Raizen's assurance. Hundreds of them marched behind him with renewed purpose. Three days later, the massive group finally reached the gates of the Amamiya Clan estate.
Raizen exhaled quietly, scanning the familiar path. Four years away had made this place feel like home—yet now it was more than that. This was the beginning of something larger, something that could change the Warring States era.
Suddenly, the ground trembled. Around thirty Amamiya ninjas, clad in clan attire, surrounded Raizen and the newcomers. Weapons were raised, eyes sharp. The wandering ninjas tensed, gripping their own arms, as the standoff began.