Jiraiya arrived at a quiet, out-of-the-way training ground and stopped at a distance, watching a lone figure in motion.
Golden hair caught the light.
For a moment, his expression softened, memories rising uninvited. The posture, the stubborn focus, even the way chakra pulsed through movement. Too familiar.
"So… you really did leave something behind, Minato," Jiraiya murmured.
Naruto trained clumsily but earnestly, sweat streaking his face. Watching him for a while, Jiraiya smiled. Whatever else fate had taken, it hadn't erased the boy's will.
After a short while, Jiraiya turned and left.
He hadn't failed to notice the ANBU hidden nearby, but he didn't comment. Even Kushina had been monitored when she was younger and far weaker. Naruto, now, was non-negotiable. At least they were ANBU directly loyal to the Third Hokage. That much eased his mind.
What Jiraiya didn't know was that there were more guards stationed farther out, quietly redirecting anyone who might wander too close. The village had taken great care to ensure Jiraiya wouldn't witness Naruto being mistreated.
Even after Jiraiya left, they stayed in place. Until the Third gave the order, no one moved.
Jiraiya didn't double back. Instead, he wandered to the former Uchiha district.
Empty streets. Silent houses.
Standing there, he sighed. He'd refused to believe the reports at first, but time had made denial pointless. The Uchiha were gone. All of them.
After a brief look around, he left. It wasn't his burden to carry, not directly.
What occupied his thoughts now was Fujimoto Tōma.
Taking the boy with him was impossible. Tōma was still laying foundations, and Jiraiya's life was anything but stable. Travel, intelligence gathering, disappearing for months at a time. That wasn't a childhood, and it certainly wasn't training suited for a seven-year-old.
Still, teaching didn't require constant proximity.
If there were gaps, the old man could fill them.
Yet the more Jiraiya replayed the day in his mind, the more unsettled he felt. Tōma was too composed. Too measured. Not broken, not cold, but… already past childhood.
Jiraiya frowned.
Back home, Tōma opened the scroll Jiraiya had given him.
As expected, it exploded into several smaller scrolls that spilled across the floor.
Sealing techniques.Summoning theory.Notes on the Flying Thunder God.And, most importantly, the Fourth Hokage's personal insights.
Tōma stared at the pile, briefly overwhelmed.
One thing at a time.
Summoning came first. Sealing would follow. Flying Thunder God could wait until the fundamentals were in place.
He buried himself in study until Fujimoto Sana returned from work.
"Mom," Tōma said casually, "I became the disciple of one of the Legendary Sannin today."
"…What?" Sana froze. "The Sannin? Tsunade-sama came back to the village?"
"Uh… no."
"…Jiraiya-sama?"
Her expression shifted. Shock, relief, then something complicated.
"Yes."
A brief silence followed.
"Tōma," she said carefully, "becoming Jiraiya-sama's student is a good thing. But you should remember… you already have Ino-chan."
Tōma's composure cracked.
So this was how far Jiraiya's reputation had spread.
In shinobi circles, it was mostly jokes. Among men, it was legendary bravado. But among Konoha's women… Jiraiya was infamous.
He cleared his throat and immediately changed the subject, explaining the Flying Thunder God and emphasizing that it was the Fourth Hokage's signature technique.
Sana's reaction flipped instantly.
Her eyes lit up as she launched into enthusiastic encouragement, insisting he study hard and live up to the Fourth's legacy.
…So she was a Minato fan, Tōma realized.
Suddenly, he felt a strange sympathy for the father he'd never met. Though, thankfully, Minato had probably never been competition in that sense.
After dinner, Tōma returned to his scrolls.
He'd finished summoning theory already. Different from object summoning, but similar enough that he felt confident. The real headache was sealing techniques.
Too many rules. Too many variations.
Endless learning, he thought dryly.
Over the next few days, Tōma studied sealing whenever he had time. Strangely, Jiraiya didn't test his summoning progress. Instead, he demonstrated it repeatedly, breaking down every hand sign and chakra flow with meticulous clarity.
Then, inexplicably, Jiraiya started taking him out.
Not to questionable places. Just… entertainment districts, festivals, odd little attractions scattered around the village.
Tōma endured it.
Barely.
Finally, he spoke up.
"Sensei, you don't need to bring me to places like this."
Jiraiya scratched his head. "I thought you might've missed out when you were younger. Figured you'd enjoy it."
Tōma met his gaze, serious.
"I understand your intention. But what I truly enjoy is feeling myself grow stronger. Progress earned through effort. That's what satisfies me."
Jiraiya stared at him for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
"…Alright. Then today, we'll test your summoning progress."
Tōma exhaled quietly.
Finally.