Chapter 38: Echoes of Change

The Kirigakure council chamber was dark, lit only by ancient lanterns that cast dancing shadows across the tense faces of those present. The silence was broken by the sudden arrival of a fish-masked ANBU, raindrops still fresh on his uniform.

"Report confirmed," the ANBU said, bowing deeply. "Minato Namikaze has been named the Fourth Hokage of Konohagakure."

The silence that followed was as heavy as lead. The Third Mizukage gripped the arms of his chair until his knuckles were white. The sound of rain outside seemed to amplify the tension in the room.

"The Yellow Lightning," one of the councilors muttered, his voice shaking. "The man who decimated our forces on the Western Front..."

"Not only that," another intervened, unfurling a map on the table marked with numerous red Xs - places where entire squadrons had vanished without a trace. "Reports confirm what we were told, he has developed an instant teleportation technique. Our traditional defenses are useless against him."

"And with the loss of our Swordsmen," the special forces commander added, "our offensive capability has been severely compromised."

"Speaking of the Swordsmen," an older advisor interjected, his voice hoarse with age, "I've heard there are some potential candidates among the younger ranks. The academy finals are approaching, and historically it's always been a good time to identify promising talent."

"Yes," another agreed. "I've heard of some particularly gifted students this year. With the right training..."

In the corner of the room, Advisor Fujino watched the scene in silence, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the arm of his chair, as if following a tune only he could hear. In the flickering light of the lanterns, his pupils occasionally caught reddish highlights.

Hours later, as the councilors left the room, Fujino lingered in the dark corridors of the administration. He waited patiently until he noticed Councilor Yamamoto walking alone, the day's reports still clutched in his hands.

"Yamamoto-san," he called softly. "One moment, if I may."

He approached his colleague, gently guiding him toward a less frequented side corridor. "I have some... thoughts I would like to share with you. About the current situation in the village."

When Yamamoto emerged from the corridor a few minutes later, something in his bearing had changed, subtly but undeniably. He walked toward the exit with measured steps, while Fujino watched his figure disappear into the evening mist, a thin smile curving his lips.

The rain continued to fall on Kirigakure, masking the sound of footsteps receding toward other corridors, other councilors, other whispered conversations in the shadows.

Over the next few days, whispers began to creep through the corridors of the administration. During the council meetings, more and more voices were raised to express "concerns" about the direction of the village.

"The health of the Mizukage-sama..." someone muttered.

"In times like these..." another suggested.

"Perhaps we need a younger... leader," whispered a third.

Councilors who had once been staunch supporters of the Third began, one after another, to show a subtle but unmistakable shift in their positions. Their interventions, once cautious and respectful, took on increasingly critical tones.

The Third Mizukage sat in his place, his dry cough occasionally echoing in the room as he listened to these increasingly insistent murmurs. The change in his councilors was almost imperceptible, yet undeniable.

The fog outside the windows was growing thicker, as if to hide the slow, inexorable change that was taking place in the very heart of the village.