"Then, Maki—you take half, the clan takes half. The clan will fund the business."
Elder Zetsugan made the decision right there and left happily with the insect eggs.
The afternoon was quiet. Maki decided to relax a little before starting her work. This time, she wouldn't tolerate those unlucky nicknames.
Maki lay on her bed for a while, eyes half-closed, then got up to check on Hitomi and Naori.
Those two… had gone to school.
It was the weekend, so the grounds were empty, but the place was large enough for whatever they had in mind. The front gates were locked, but no ninja ever used the main entrance.
Naori and Hitomi stood facing each other, both drawing their swords slowly.
Training? Maki watched with interest from a distance. She couldn't hear their words, but she could see their movements. After a few moments, she realized they weren't starting yet.
Losing interest in who would win or lose, she turned away. Momentary victories meant nothing—no one wins all the time, and no one loses all the time.
With that thought, she turned her attention back to her insects, which were scouting the Konoha forest.
Suddenly, her vision went black.
Maki clicked her tongue in annoyance. Again. Her bugs were often eaten by birds.
When she reconnected, the sparring match was already over. Naori looked calm as ever, putting away her two blades—one long, one short—and offering a hand to Hitomi, who was still on the ground.
Lost again, Hitomi. Naori really was incredible.
Hitomi took her hand, got up, and the two left together, laughing.
Curious, Maki sent a small flying insect to follow them.
They ended up at a dango shop, sitting outside with tea and skewers. Every now and then, between bites, they would stand up and practice sword gestures while the other watched thoughtfully.
Not bad, Maki thought, before steering her insect away. She had spotted something else.
The First Class had just returned from a mission.
Tsunade was counting a stack of bills with a sour look. No matter how many times she flipped through it, the total wouldn't change. Three minutes in the casino and the money was gone—it hadn't been nearly enough to satisfy her.
Jiraiya stood to her left, frowning at his own meager earnings, as if the world had wronged him.
'If you don't know, just ask,' he muttered. "Sarutobi-sensei."
Hiruzen Sarutobi, strolling down the street, tore his gaze away from the legs of a passing young woman and looked at Jiraiya's miserable face.
"What is it?" he asked, irritation clear in his voice.
"I owe someone money. How much can I pay back with this little?" Jiraiya asked.
"Huh?" Hiruzen blinked, then thought for a moment. "How much do you owe?"
"Six hundred thousand."
"That's… quite a lot," Hiruzen said. "This isn't hard math, Jiraiya. Just subtract what you've got from what you owe."
"But there's interest! I've owed it for over a month."
"How much interest?" Hiruzen asked, rubbing his nose.
"Six percent?" Jiraiya replied uncertainly.
Hiruzen glanced at the wad of bills in Jiraiya's hand.
"That's just enough to cover the interest."
"What?!" Jiraiya's hands shook. "Sensei, what does that mean?!"
"It means that unless you pay off the debt, you'll keep owing interest every month. And if it's compound interest, well—that's much worse."
"Compound what?!" Jiraiya's face paled. He didn't understand, but his instincts told him it was bad.
"Honestly…" Hiruzen sighed. "I don't think you understand anything."
Then, with a faint smirk, he added, "You've got some nerve, borrowing from loan sharks."
Orochimaru, standing nearby, gave a cold laugh. "Idiot Jiraiya."
For once, Jiraiya didn't snap back. He just looked at Hiruzen with wide, pleading eyes.
"Sensei…"
The Third Hokage raised an eyebrow.
"Help—help me!!" Jiraiya's voice shook, his eyes filled with desperation.
"You…!" Hiruzen smacked a hand to his face, sighed, and after a moment asked, "Alright, who's the one?"
Let's see who dares to bully my disciple, the Third Hokage thought.
"It's Maki," Jiraiya said miserably. "I didn't want to borrow anything, but she kept shoving money at me! And Tsunade wouldn't let me run—she said the only person allowed to end the game is the biggest loser at the table. Until she's completely out, no one escapes!"
Tsunade shot him a dangerous glare. "That's because you're an idiot. Orochimaru didn't lose much at all."
Orochimaru said nothing. True, he hadn't lost much—just enough that all three of his meals had been instant noodles. Which, frankly, was making him think about snake soup.
"Teacher! Save me!" Jiraiya pleaded, eyes full of hope.
"Maybe this is fate, Jiraiya." Hiruzen patted his shoulder, turned on his heel, and started walking away.
"Sensei!?"
The Third's pace quickened.
"Sensei!!" Jiraiya's voice cracked with despair.
"Let's go!" Hiruzen waved him off. "Cheer up, important training awaits us!"
"Sarutobi-sensei!!"
"Come on! Today we'll learn a brand-new jutsu—it's super powerful!" Hiruzen's voice rose, almost as if trying to drown out Jiraiya's wails.
Watching their teacher and teammates walk away, young Jiraiya realized the true meaning of one word: reliable.
Orochimaru glanced back at him, then turned to the Hokage. "Teacher, six hundred thousand isn't that much for an adult."
"It's not difficult," Hiruzen agreed with a sigh. "But, Orochimaru… once you get married, you'll learn that everything becomes difficult."
Orochimaru studied him for a long moment before asking, "Isn't that what private savings are for?"
"Biwako is a kunoichi." The Third sighed again.
Orochimaru's gaze flicked to Tsunade, and a spark of understanding lit his eyes. "I don't want to get married, teacher."
"It's too early for you to think about that," Hiruzen said, patting his shoulder with a mysterious smile. "You'll understand later."
'No. I don't want to understand, 'Orochimaru thought.
Aloud, he said, "Jiraiya will tag along, won't he?"
"He'll figure it out eventually. Life goes on, after all," Hiruzen said with a knowing sigh. "Besides, where could he even run to?"
Then, with a faint smirk: "Sometimes it's better to suffer a small loss now than to be cheated badly later."
Orochimaru looked at him again, half-understanding what it meant to be a "reliable" adult.
Forget it, he decided. Let that idiot Jiraiya fend for himself.
I've already been living on instant noodles—why am I worrying so much?
At most, he could treat Jiraiya to ramen later.
Just one bowl.
The rest of the money was for biology experiments.
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