Konoha — The Day of the Funeral
A hush had fallen over the Hidden Leaf. For once, even the wind seemed to whisper instead of howl, as the village gathered to honor its fallen.
Dozens of headstones lined the Memorial Stone field...fresh earth and fresh names, too many for any one heart to hold.
At the front stood the Hokage, flanked by the Legendary Sannin. Jiraiya, for once, looked entirely serious, while Tsunade's eyes were narrowed and unreadable.
Hiruzen Sarutobi, back in his Hokage robes, was older than ever, but his posture was straight as he read the names of the dead.
A little to the side, Might Guy stood rigid, brow furrowed. His fists were clenched so tightly his gloves creaked.
Kakashi was beside him, silent, face half-hidden by his mask and shadowed by his silver hair but, miraculously, alive and well, thanks to timely rescue and a stubborn refusal to die.
Shikaku's absence was a heavy weight in the crowd.
Chōza's, too.
And others—far too many others—whose names would echo in the village for years to come.
Konoha's shinobi filled the field, shoulder to shoulder—some with heads bowed, others standing tall, tears glittering on their faces.
The villagers had come as well... shopkeepers, children, old men, and mothers, all gathered to say goodbye.
After the names were read, after the moment of silence, people drifted away in ones and twos, lingering in quiet groups. Some wept openly, others simply stared at the sky.
But slowly, life returned.
Jiraiya was swarmed by a gaggle of young ninja, each one eager to shake his hand or ask for a story. He scratched his head, embarrassed but pleased, dodging their questions with a sly smile.
Tsunade found herself surrounded by grateful parents, all thanking her for returning. She nodded gruffly, but her eyes were gentler than usual.
And everywhere, in low voices and high, villagers cursed the name Danzo with creative, colorful, and completely unprintable language.
If even a single rumor made it to the next life, Danzo was in for a rude awakening.
But the real hero—at least for the kids—was Jiraiya.
His antics and tales became instant legend, and more than one group of academy students tried to imitate his signature "research" poses (much to Iruka's horror).
In the middle of the bustling square, Naruto darted from group to group, talking a mile a minute, bursting with energy and questions.
"Did you see how awesome the battle was?"
"I bet the old man could've taken Danzo with one hand!"
"Hey, you heard what Jiraiya did, right?"
"That brat again…" someone whispered.
"Not today. I don't want my mood ruined."
A woman stepped aside as Naruto approached, pulling her daughter with her.
"Stay away, sweetheart," she murmured. "The demon fox is excited… keep your distance."
Naruto froze in mid-step.
The words weren't loud.
They weren't screamed.
They weren't even angry.
They were gentle…
casual…
everyday fear.
And somehow, that stung far more.
He stood there, staring at the ground, his smile wobbling for just a second.
But then...
He plastered it on again, brighter this time, stretching it wider than it needed to be.
"Ehehe… guess everyone's busy today," he mumbled, scratching his cheek. "But someday they'll all notice me! I'll be the best Hokage ever! Dattebayo!"
His voice cracked a little at the end.
No one heard it.
Or maybe they did…
and chose not to respond.
--
Amidst the shifting crowd, a pair of dark, serious eyes watched Naruto's struggle from a distance.
Sasuke Uchiha stood at the edge of the square, hands shoved deep in his pockets, expression colder and more guarded than ever. His gaze flicked past Naruto without a pause.
He saw the blond idiot darting from group to group—smiling like an idiot, being ignored at every turn.
But Sasuke wasn't interested.
He was searching for someone else.
His eyes narrowed, scanning the crowd, looking for even a glimpse of that strange man—the one with wild green hair, a bandana, and three swords at his waist.
The "Uchiha Zoro" imposter.
The man who had humiliated him.
The man with a Sharingan in his eye.
Sasuke shoved through the crowd, irritation carving lines across his young face.
"Damnit… where the hell is he?" he muttered under his breath, eyes darting left and right.
"That green‑haired freak… and that masked guy too…"
He clenched his fists.
The memory of that red item burning in his throat…
the heat rushing through his veins…
the way his Sharingan awakened as if someone flipped a switch—
It all came rushing back, twisting into a craving he didn't want to admit.
"Tch… how am I supposed to contact him?" Sasuke said irritatingly. "Just show up out of nowhere… beat me up… give me power… and then vanish like an idiot—!"
Obito was completely unaware that Sasuke was already tweaking for another special dose.
--
Inside the Hokage Office
Sunlight streamed through the windows, glinting off the battered Konoha symbol carved into the desk.
Jiraiya leaned lazily against the wall, Tsunade perched on a windowsill, and Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Third Hokage, sat behind the desk, his pipe conspicuously absent for once.
After a long, thoughtful silence, Hiruzen finally sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Won't you stay a little longer? Naruto would be happy to meet you too, Jiraiya…"
Jiraiya froze, fingers scratching the back of his head.
"…Ah, Sensei, I'll be back soon enough… or, you know, maybe it'll take a while—who can say? There's something out there I want to check for myself."
He flashed a grin. "But after that, I'll drop by and say hi. Maybe accepting the brat as a student wouldn't be so bad, either! Hahaha!"
Hiruzen's smile was both weary and proud. "I suppose I can't change your mind, you stubborn idiot."
He turned to Tsunade, who was lost in thought, staring out the window.
"And you, Tsunade? Will you stay?"
Tsunade blinked, considering. "I'll stay for a few days… help clean up, maybe visit the hospital. But then I'll be moving on too."
"I see…" Hiruzen nodded, half-exasperated, half-amused. He knew his students too well—neither one was ever going to sit still for long.
He let out another long, theatrical sigh.
"And here I thought I could finally retire and—"
Before he could finish, both Sannin leapt to their feet, voices overlapping in perfect comic timing:
"Hahaha! Oh, Sensei, I just remembered something—let's talk again later!"
Jiraiya waved over his shoulder, already halfway out the window.
"I'll be heading out, old man! Take care of yourself!"
Tsunade shot a quick wink and was gone.
Hiruzen stared after them, mouth open in protest... then slumped back in his chair with a mixture of exasperation and affection.
"These little…!"
But the smile tugging at his lips said it all.
--
Jiraiya landed on the rooftop and watched Tsunade stride away, her ponytail swishing. He hesitated, then called out, trying (and failing) to sound casual:
"Hey, Tsunade—how about we grab a drink together before you leave? Just one—my treat!"
Tsunade didn't even slow down.
She raised her hand in a lazy wave, not bothering to look back.
"Save your money, Jiraiya. You'll need it for your next hospital bill."
Jiraiya stood there for a moment, deflated.
He scratched his head, grinning awkwardly at the empty air.
"Man… not even a maybe, huh?"
He let out a long, exaggerated sigh—the universal sound of a man who's struck out for the thousandth time.
"…Still got it," he muttered, lying to himself as he wandered off in the opposite direction, shoulders just a little more slumped than before and maybe, just maybe, thinking about coming home a little sooner next time.
--
Land of Fire — Forest Path
Jiraiya walked alone along a sun-dappled forest trail, the distant sound of Konoha long behind him. Leaves rustled softly overhead. Birds sang and chirped, hopping from branch to branch, almost like they were keeping him company.
He scratched his chin, the lines of a thoughtful frown tugging at his lips.
"Hmmm…"
He replayed the fight in his head—every jutsu, every movement, the way Danzo fought and the way it all ended.
"Something doesn't sit right with me…" he murmured. "For all that power, that crazy Wood Style… there was a problem somewhere. It was almost like…"
He trailed off, lost in thought, a little smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as a bluebird fluttered nearby.
"He was strong, but it wasn't natural. It felt forced—like his body was fighting itself the whole time…"
Jiraiya looked up at the sky, letting the sunlight warm his face.
"Well, no use standing still. I'll figure it out on the road. Besides, a true Sage never worries for long!"
He flashed a grin—half brave, half just stubborn optimism and strolled onward, the forest alive with birdsong.
The sun was harsh overhead, pouring down directly into his eyes. He lifted a hand lazily, blocking the glare with his palm as he kept walking.
"Hah..."
He squinted through the gap between his fingers.
A figure stood ahead.
Just a silhouette at first... tall, unmoving, backlit by the sun.
Jiraiya took one more step.
And then stopped.
The man was standing casually, almost bored.
Feet shoulder-width apart.
Both hands hanging loosely at his side.
No fighting stance.
Just absolute, unshakable confidence.
Jiraiya narrowed his eyes, lowering his hand just a bit to see clearer.
"…No way."
'Was I so lost in thought that I didn't even sense him appear.' Jiraiya thought inwardly his guard instantly up.
For a moment, nothing moved. Just cicadas droning, heat haze shimmering, and that motionless, almost comical figure standing smack in the middle of the trail.
Jiraiya dropped his hand fully, face all business now.
"…You've got guts blocking the road, pal," he said, easy voice hiding sharp intent.
The stranger tilted his head, orange spiral mask glinting in the sunlight. He gave a ridiculous little wave.
"Yo!"
Jiraiya blinked.
"My name is Tobi!" the masked man declared, one hand rising in a goofy, finger-wiggling greeting.
The tone was playful, childish—completely at odds with the tension thrumming between them.
Jiraiya's brows twitched, and he slipped one hand toward his kunai pouch. His Sannin instincts screamed caution, but the "enemy" before him looked… like he belonged at a circus.
"'Tobi', huh?" Jiraiya drawled, masking his wariness behind a dry smile. "You know it's rude to stand in the middle of the road in this heat, right?"
Tobi hopped in place, kicking up a tiny dust cloud.
"Ehehe, sorry! But you're Jiraiya the Gallant, right? Legendary Sannin? I just had to meet you!"
Jiraiya frowned—this whole thing stank of trouble, but also… it felt like a test.
"Yeah? Well, you've met me. Now what?"
Tobi scratched the back of his masked head, tilting it in that infuriatingly cheerful way.
"Well, Jiraiya-san… I've got a riddle for you! What's orange, spins in circles, and is about to ruin your whole day?"
Jiraiya's smile changed...battle-ready beneath the banter.
"Guess I'll find out the hard way, huh?"
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