One day later.
Rain fell in a fine, unending drizzle.
Hanzō of the Salamander lay half-reclined on his bed, bandages wrapped tight around his torso. His gaze drifted through the open window, fixed on the gray curtain of rain outside.
The rain of Amegakure never seemed to stop.
"Lord Hanzō," Tenyu reported, kneeling respectfully within the room. "The three leaders of the Akatsuki and their members have arrived. The heads of every department in the village are assembled as well."
There was undisguised worry in his eyes.
The previous day, Hanzō had returned to the village grievously wounded. The sight alone had shaken Amegakure to its core.
In the Land of Rain, Hanzō was more than a leader—he was the sky above them.
If he fell, the sky would fall with him.
Tenyu and Kanzō had both pressed him for answers. Hanzō had said only one thing:
"Mutual defeat."
Nothing more.
He had ordered Kanzō to summon Yahiko and the other two leaders of the Akatsuki. Tenyu was told to gather every key authority figure in Amegakure. There was something important to announce.
Neither dared question him.
Hanzō rose slowly.
He draped a cloak over his shoulders, steady despite the pain, and walked toward the door.
"The Land of Rain," he said quietly, "is ready to step into a brighter future."
Tenyu's heart stirred—but he kept silent and followed.
The grand conference chamber was already filled.
Most seats were occupied by Amegakure's ministers and elite shinobi. Among them sat the core members of the Akatsuki, led by Yahiko, Nagato, and Konan.
Murmurs rippled across the hall. Curious glances flicked toward the young trio.
Many had heard of the Akatsuki. Some had worked with them. Opinions varied—skepticism, admiration, dismissal, cautious approval.
But one question united them:
Why were these outsiders present at an internal council of Amegakure?
The doors opened.
Step. Step. Step.
Hanzō entered.
The murmuring died instantly.
Every shinobi present straightened, eyes lowered in respect.
"Lord Hanzō—you're injured?!" someone blurted, noticing the bandages beneath his cloak.
The hall erupted.
"Who dared attack you? I'll kill them!"
"I heard rumors of an assassination attempt—but I thought it was nonsense!"
"For someone to wound Lord Hanzō… was it Konoha? Iwagakure?!"
Voices overlapped in outrage.
Without exception, every person present was incensed.
"Silence!"
Tenyu's shout cut through the chaos.
The hall quieted.
Hanzō took his seat at the head of the chamber. Tenyu sat at his right, Kanzō appearing from the shadows to take the left.
These two had long served as Hanzō's hands—much like advisors to a Kage.
No one questioned their positions.
When the room settled, Hanzō spoke.
"You are aware that tensions in the Land of Rain have escalated recently. The conflict between Konoha and Iwagakure has intensified. There were even signs of Amegakure being dragged into war."
A grim silence fell.
"After investigation," Hanzō continued, "I discovered that a hidden force was deliberately inflaming hostilities."
"I have dealt with the mastermind. These injuries were sustained in that battle."
Shock spread again through the chamber.
"I knew it! The escalation was too sudden!"
"Several of our patrol units were ambushed—so it wasn't coincidence!"
"If someone could orchestrate something like that… their backing must be powerful. Lord Hanzō, who was it?"
Hanzō shook his head.
"The identity involves matters too sensitive to reveal."
Those seated understood immediately.
If it couldn't be named, it meant someone from the Five Great Nations' upper ranks.
Naming them would ignite open conflict.
"And so," Hanzō said firmly, "this matter ends here. You may rest assured."
The message was clear.
The crisis was over.
No further discussion.
A senior shinobi rose slightly.
"Then, Lord Hanzō—why have you gathered us today?"
Hanzō's gaze shifted.
He gestured toward the Akatsuki.
"Yahiko. Nagato. Konan. Step forward."
Under dozens of scrutinizing eyes, the three rose without hesitation and approached the front.
Rain tapped softly against the windows.
Hanzō looked over the hall.
"These three," he announced, "are the leaders of the Akatsuki."
"You have all heard their names."
A pause.
Then—
"From this day forward…"
"They are my personal disciples."
Silence fell like thunder.
In Amegakure, to be acknowledged as a direct disciple of Hanzō of the Salamander was no small matter.
It was recognition.
Legitimacy.
And perhaps—
Succession.
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