Night fell with the suddenness that came in early summer, the sun disappearing behind the mountains and taking most of the light with it in what felt like minutes rather than the gradual dimming of winter evenings. By the time Naruto and Jiraiya reached the next town—a small settlement built around a crossroads where merchant caravans stopped to rest and resupply—darkness had settled completely, broken only by lanterns hanging outside shops and the warm glow of inn windows.
The inn Jiraiya selected was larger than the previous ones, three stories of solid construction that suggested it saw regular business from travelers. The common room on the first floor buzzed with activity—merchants drinking sake and comparing prices, a few off-duty shinobi eating dinner in careful silence, locals playing dice games in the corner. But Jiraiya bypassed all of it, securing a room on the third floor with cash and minimal conversation before leading Naruto upstairs.
The room was simple but adequate—two sleeping mats laid out on opposite sides, a small table with a oil lamp, a window that overlooked the street below. Clean, functional, anonymous. Exactly what they needed after the day's encounter.
Naruto dropped his pack with obvious relief, his body aching from hours of walking at the accelerated pace Jiraiya had maintained after the fight. His mind, however, was racing too fast for physical exhaustion to matter. The questions that had been building since the encounter with Orochimaru finally burst out the moment the door closed behind them.
"Sensei, that technique you used!" Naruto's enthusiasm overwhelmed his exhaustion, his eyes bright with the kind of fascination only new shinobi showed when witnessing high-level jutsu for the first time. "That spiraling ball of chakra in your hand—the one that vaporized that tree—what was that? I've never seen anything like it! It looked like you were holding a miniature storm!"
Jiraiya settled onto his sleeping mat with a slight groan, his own body feeling the day's exertion more than he'd admit. "That's the Rasengan," he said, unable to suppress a note of pride. "A technique I developed years ago after watching the Tailed Beasts form their attacks. It's pure chakra manipulation—no nature transformation, no hand seals, just perfectly controlled rotation compressed into a sphere. Took me three years to develop and another two to master properly."
"No hand seals?!" Naruto's voice rose with excitement. "You can do a technique that powerful without any seals at all? That's incredible! Can you teach me? Please? That would be so useful! Imagine if I could—"
"Slow down, kid." Jiraiya held up a hand, but he was smiling at Naruto's enthusiasm. "The Rasengan isn't something you learn in a few weeks. It requires chakra control so precise that most jonin can't manage it. You're still working on basic circulation exercises. We'll get there eventually, but you need to walk before you can run."
"But eventually means you'll teach me, right?" Naruto pressed, latching onto the implication. "When I'm ready? When my control is good enough?"
"When you're ready," Jiraiya confirmed. "And when you've mastered the prerequisite exercises I'll design specifically to prepare you for it. The Rasengan is... special. Your father actually perfected it beyond what I originally created. If I'm going to teach you his technique, I'm going to make sure you learn it properly."
The mention of his father made Naruto pause, something complicated crossing his face—pride and grief and the painful awareness of all the things he'd never gotten to learn from Minato Namikaze directly. But he pushed past it, his natural enthusiasm reasserting itself.
"And the summoning!" Naruto continued, shifting topics with the attention span of someone his age. "That giant toad you called—Gamaken, right? That was amazing! Grandpa had a summoning contract too. He could summon monkeys—I saw him do it once during a demonstration. Whenever I asked him about getting my own summon, he'd say I had to wait, that I'd get one when the time was right. Is that what he meant? That you'd teach me summoning?"
"Probably," Jiraiya said, pulling out his pipe and beginning the ritual of lighting it. "Summoning contracts are serious business. They're not just techniques—they're partnerships with entire clans of creatures, agreements that span generations. The toads have been working with shinobi from my line for decades. If you want access to that contract, I can arrange it. But—" he pointed the pipe stem at Naruto for emphasis, "—you'd need to prove yourself to them. The toads don't accept just anyone as a summoner. You'd have to earn their respect."
"I can do that! I'll prove myself! Whatever they need!" Naruto's conviction was immediate and absolute. Then his expression shifted to something more uncertain, almost sheepish. "But... can I ask something weird? About the snake guy. Orochimaru."
Jiraiya's expression darkened slightly. "What about him?"
"He came out of that snake's mouth. Like, emerged from inside it in that really creepy way with all the nested snakes." Naruto's face showed he was still processing the disturbing visual. "Is that... is that something summoners can do? If I get the toad contract, could I come out of a toad's mouth like that? And could the toads do the same thing—like, could they emerge from my mouth?" His face was scrunching up with combined fascination and revulsion. "Because that seemed really useful for surprise attacks but also kind of disgusting."
Despite the darkness of the topic, Jiraiya found himself laughing—a genuine sound that helped dispel some of the day's tension. "That's a very Orochimaru-specific technique. It's based on his extensive body modifications and his obsession with snakes. He's altered his own body to be more serpentine, which allows him to do things like that. Normal summoners can't just emerge from their summons' mouths, and thank the gods for that because it's as disturbing as you think it is."
"So I won't have to do that?" Naruto looked relieved.
"Definitely not. The toads and I have a much more straightforward relationship. I summon them to the battlefield, they show up and help fight, we coordinate our attacks, and then they go home when the battle's done. No emerging from throats or swallowing each other or any of that nightmare fuel Orochimaru specializes in."
"Good. Because that was really creepy." Naruto was quiet for a moment, then his enthusiasm returned. "But I will get an awesome summon, right? Like, will there be a toad that wields giant shurikens? Or one with a sword and armor like a samurai? Oh! Or a toad with wings so I could fly? That would be incredible! Imagine flying into battle on a giant flying toad!"
Jiraiya's laughter returned, warmer this time. "I hate to disappoint you, kid, but toads don't have wings. They're amphibians, not birds. And while some of them do carry weapons—Gamaken has his sasumata and shield, Gamabunta has his tanto—they pick their own equipment based on their fighting style. You don't get to custom order them like you're shopping for ninja tools."
"But there might be one with shurikens?" Naruto pressed hopefully.
"There might be one with shurikens," Jiraiya conceded with amusement. "The toad clan is large and diverse. You'll meet them when the time comes and form partnerships based on compatible fighting styles and personalities. Some of them are warriors, some are scouts, some specialize in support techniques. You'll find ones that work well with you."
"This is going to be so cool," Naruto said, his grin wide and genuine. "My own summons. Like Grandpa. Like you. Like my father. I'll be part of that tradition."
The pride in his voice was touching, and Jiraiya felt something warm settle in his chest. The boy was healing—slowly, painfully, but healing nonetheless. The enthusiasm he was showing, the ability to look forward rather than just dwelling on loss, suggested that getting him out of Konoha had been the right call.
"Now," Jiraiya said, his tone shifting to something more serious, "speaking of training and techniques—how are those basic chakra circulation exercises coming along? The ones I told you to practice. Any problems?"
Naruto's expression immediately became guarded, his earlier openness closing off like a door slamming shut. His gaze shifted to the floor, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "They're... fine. Mostly fine."
"Mostly fine isn't actually fine," Jiraiya observed, his pipe smoke curling toward the ceiling. "If you're having issues, I need to know. Even small problems with chakra circulation can become big problems if they're not addressed early. And after what happened today, after that seal Orochimaru's people placed on you during the attack, I need to know if anything feels wrong."
"It's probably nothing," Naruto said, but his voice lacked conviction. "Just... I don't know if it's normal or if I'm doing something wrong or..."
"Tell me anyway." Jiraiya's voice was gentle but firm. "Even if you think it's small or stupid or your fault somehow. I can't help if I don't know what's happening."
Naruto was quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with whether to admit weakness or vulnerability. Finally, he spoke, his words coming out in a rush like he had to say them all before he could change his mind. "Whenever I try to output more chakra, like when I'm pushing myself during exercises or trying to maintain circulation for more than an hour, I start feeling pain. In my stomach, where the seal is. And if I keep pushing, the pain gets worse and sometimes I start feeling dizzy and... and once I almost passed out. It wasn't this bad before. Before Grandpa died and the seal was reinforced. Now it's like there's this pressure building up whenever I use too much chakra for too long."
Jiraiya's expression remained carefully neutral, but internally alarms were firing. "How long has this been happening?"
"Since we left the village. Since I started practicing again after... after everything." Naruto's hands were clenched now, frustrated and scared in equal measure. "I didn't want to say anything because I thought maybe it was just me being weak, or maybe it's normal after having a seal reinforced, or maybe I'm just doing the exercises wrong and..."
"It's not you being weak," Jiraiya interrupted firmly. "And you're not doing the exercises wrong—I've watched you practice and your form is fine. This is a seal issue, which means it's my responsibility to check and fix if necessary. Come here."
Naruto approached hesitantly as Jiraiya pulled a chair from the corner and sat down, positioning himself at the right height to examine Naruto's stomach. "Lift your shirt up. I need to look at the seal directly."
Naruto complied, pulling his shirt up to expose his abdomen where the seal was located. In the lamplight, his skin looked pale and vulnerable, marked by the faint scar tissue that remained from the original sealing eleven years ago.
Jiraiya's hands moved through a sequence of seals—Rat, Boar, Dog, Snake, Tiger—before he placed both palms flat against Naruto's stomach, his chakra flowing outward in a controlled pulse designed to make seal work visible to normal sight.
The seal appeared like writing materializing on blank paper. The primary seal was elaborate—a spiral pattern with the Uzumaki clan's trademark aesthetics, surrounded by countless smaller symbols that created layers of containment and restriction. It was beautiful in the way that all master seal work was beautiful, showing Minato Namikaze's incredible skill and the desperate love that had gone into creating something that would both contain a demon and protect his son.
But there was something else. Just above the main seal, barely visible unless you knew to look for it, was another marking. Small, almost delicate compared to the robust construction of the primary seal. It looked like the number eight turned horizontally—an infinity symbol—with the two loops filled with different colors. One loop was dark orange, like dried blood mixed with chakra. The other was black, like ink or corruption given physical form.
Naruto's voice was small, frightened in ways he wouldn't usually admit. "Is everything okay? Is there a problem with the seal?"
That secondary marking was the corruption seal—the one Masked attackers had placed during the attack on the Sarutobi compound, the one that had forced Hiruzen to use the Reaper Death Seal to contain its effects. It should have been completely sealed away by Hiruzen's final technique.
But it was still there. Still visible. Still active, even if greatly suppressed.
Which meant either Hiruzen's sealing hadn't been as complete as intended, or the corruption was more persistent than anticipated, or both. And that dark orange coloring in one loop—that looked disturbingly like Nine-Tails' chakra mixed with something else, something that was trying to corrupt the demon's energy into something even more dangerous.
"No problem, kid," Jiraiya said, making his voice carry casual reassurance he didn't feel. "The seal's holding fine. No deterioration, no weak points. What you're feeling is probably just one of your chakra points being partially blocked—happens sometimes after intense trauma or emotional stress. The chakra tries to flow through and hits a blockage, causes pressure and pain. It'll resolve on its own as your body adjusts. Nothing to worry about."
"Really?" Naruto's relief was immediate and visible. "So I'm not broken? The seal's okay?"
"The seal's fine. You're fine. Your body just needs time to adjust to the reinforcements your grandfather added. Give it another few weeks of light practice and the discomfort should fade." Jiraiya released the technique, the seal markings fading back into invisibility. "But take it easy with the chakra exercises until then. Don't push past the point of pain. If it starts hurting, stop and rest. No point in training if you're going to pass out from it."
"Okay." Naruto pulled his shirt back down, looking infinitely relieved. "Thanks, Pervy Sage. I was worried it was something serious."
"Just a minor issue," Jiraiya said, the lie becoming easier with repetition even as guilt gnawed at him. "Now get some sleep. We've got another long day of travel tomorrow, and I want to make good distance before we stop again."
"Where are we going, anyway?" Naruto asked, settling onto his sleeping mat.
"I've got some contacts who can help with your training in ways I can't manage alone. But first, we need to get there, which means sleep. So close your eyes and rest."
"Fine, fine." Naruto yawned, the day's exhaustion finally catching up with his adrenaline. "But just so you know, I'm expecting that flying toad to be available when we get to the summoning stuff."
"Go to sleep, brat."
"Flying. Toad."
"There are no flying toads!"
"Maybe there should be. You should suggest it at the next toad council meeting or whatever you people do."
"I'm going to summon them just to have them sit on you."
Naruto's laughter faded into comfortable quiet, and within minutes his breathing had deepened into sleep. The boy was exhausted emotionally and physically, and his body had claimed the rest it desperately needed.
Jiraiya waited until he was certain Naruto was fully asleep before standing. "I need to take a leak," he said quietly, more for the appearance of normalcy than because he thought Naruto could hear. "Be back in a minute."
He moved toward the door, but Naruto's voice stopped him—drowsy, but carrying teasing awareness. "Is there important research going on? Late night bathhouse observations?"
"Everyone's asleep, you little pervert," Jiraiya shot back, but his tone was fond. "No research tonight. Just normal bathroom needs that even legendary shinobi have to address occasionally. Go back to sleep."
"Mmmkay." Naruto was already drifting off again, the teasing having used up his last reserves of wakefulness.
Jiraiya slipped out of their room and moved silently down the hallway to the room next door—a room he'd also paid for when securing lodging, though he'd told the innkeeper he wanted it for storage rather than sleeping. It was empty, dark, precisely what he needed.
His hands moved through seals—complex ones, layered privacy barriers that would make the room appear empty to casual observation and prevent anyone from sensing the chakra he was about to use. The barriers snapped into place one after another, creating a bubble of isolated space where he could work without being observed.
"Let's see what we have here," Jiraiya muttered, his hand moving to the place where the tiny snake had been hiding in his clothing since the fight.
The creature emerged, no longer playing dead, its tiny form growing slightly now that it was free of its host. Its mouth opened—too wide, grotesquely wide for something so small—and something spat out. A scroll, full-sized and cylindrical, completely covered in mucus that caught the dim light with sickening sheen.
The snake dissolved into chakra smoke, its mission complete, whatever connection had sustained it severed now that its payload was delivered.
"Ugh." Jiraiya looked at the mucus-covered scroll with genuine distaste. "That Freak's antics. I have to read something covered in snake spit. This is disgusting even by his standards."
Jiraiya picked up the scroll carefully, wiping away enough of the mucus that he could unroll it without his hands slipping.
The contents made him read for a full minute, Then, without ceremony, he held the scroll in front of his mouth and exhaled—fire chakra igniting the paper, burning it to ash in seconds. The ashes fell to the floor, and Jiraiya ground them under his heel for good measure.
He stood in the corridor, hands moving through different seals, undoing the privacy barriers around the room he'd been using. Then, more concerning, he moved through another sequence—much more complex, much more chakra-intensive—that undid a barrier he'd placed around the entire inn when they'd first arrived.
It had been a precaution, a way to detect if anyone tried to enter their floor during the night, if any hostile presence approached while they slept. But maintaining it took concentration and chakra he couldn't afford to split. He'd reset it after this, create new barriers with new parameters, but for now he released it and let the chakra dissipate back into his system.
Jiraiya returned to the room where Naruto slept. The boy was curled on his side, one arm tucked under his head, his face peaceful in ways it hadn't been while awake. Young. Vulnerable. Carrying burdens he shouldn't have to carry, bearing a demon he'd never chosen, marked by corruption that legendary shinobi had died trying to contain.
Jiraiya looked at him with warmth that was becoming increasingly parental despite his best efforts to maintain professional distance. This boy—his student's son, his teacher's grandson, a child who'd lost everything and still somehow maintained enthusiasm and hope and the ability to laugh about flying toads—deserved better than the hand fate had dealt him.
"I'll keep you safe, kid," Jiraiya whispered, too quietly to wake the sleeping boy. "No matter what threats are coming. I promised your father I'd protect you if anything happened to him. I promised Hiruzen I'd help you become someone he'd be proud of. And I keep my promises."
The lamplight flickered. Naruto slept on, oblivious to the vows being made on his behalf, oblivious to the danger that continued following them even in sleep.
Outside, the night continued its slow progression toward dawn. And in the darkness, pieces continued moving on a board whose full scope neither Naruto nor Jiraiya could yet see, a game being played by someone who thought in decades and saw humans as pieces to be manipulated or consumed as circumstances required.
But that was tomorrow's problem. Tonight, there was only sleep, and warmth, and the fragile peace of two people who'd found each other when they both needed it most.