Stepping out of the Hokage Tower, Nanami Kento took a deep breath of the evening air. The conversation with Tobirama had been heavy, filled with the weight of the village's future and the shifting of political power. But out here, on the streets of Konoha, life simply moved forward.
The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the wooden buildings and bustling market stalls. Nanami decided to take the long way home. He roamed through the commercial district, his hands resting comfortably in his pockets. His posture was loose, devoid of any tension.
Villagers and shinobi alike passed by. A few recognized him, calling out greetings.
"Good evening, Kento-san!" a fruit vendor waved.
"Evening, Taka-san. The apples look good today," Nanami replied cheerfully, offering a small nod.
He continued his stroll, enjoying the mundane sounds of the village. It was a good village. It was worth the trouble of dealing with the Council, the Elders, and the occasional rogue ninja.
His wandering eventually led him toward the hot spring district. The air here was thicker, carrying the scent of sulfur and scented soaps.
As he walked down a quiet alleyway running alongside the back wall of the women's bathhouse, a familiar sound caught his attention. It was a low, breathy, unmistakable giggle.
Nanami stopped. He looked up.
Perched precariously on the branch of a tree that overlooked the high wooden fence of the bathhouse was a man with a wild mane of spiky white hair. Jiraiya. His body was leaning forward dangerously as he scribbled notes into a small book with his free hand.
A mischievous, almost wicked smile spread across Nanami's face.
Nanami didn't use a jutsu to mask his presence. He didn't need to. His mastery over Zetsu—the complete suppression of his life force and chakra—made him practically invisible to the senses. He walked right up to the base of the tree. Jiraiya, completely absorbed in his "research," didn't notice a thing.
Nanami scaled the trunk in three silent steps, crouching on the branch directly behind the Toad Sage.
Jiraiya giggled again, adjusting the focus on his binoculars. "Oh my. The proportions are truly magnificent. This will make for an excellent chapter..."
Nanami raised his hands. He brought them together, clasping them tightly and extending his index and middle fingers to form the Tiger seal. He focused a tiny, highly concentrated point of his aura right at the tips of his fingers. Nothing lethal. Just enough to cause absolute, system-shocking discomfort.
He leaned forward.
"Konoha Secret Finger Jutsu," Nanami whispered directly into Jiraiya's ear.
Jiraiya froze, his eyes widening behind the binoculars.
"Thousand Years of Pain."
Nanami thrust his hands upward with precise, terrifying force, striking dead center.
The reaction was instantaneous. Jiraiya's entire body locked up. His eyes bulged out of his skull. His jaw unhinged in a silent scream as his brain tried and failed to process the sudden, overwhelming violation of his anatomy.
For a split second, Jiraiya defied gravity, hovering above the branch in a state of rigid paralysis. Then, the kinetic energy took over.
He launched into the sky like a fired mortar shell. He cleared the high wooden fence of the bathhouse with meters to spare, a high-pitched, strangled yelp finally escaping his throat as he reached the apex of his flight.
Nanami sat on the branch, watching with a serene smile.
Splash.
A massive geyser of hot water erupted from the other side of the fence.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, absolute chaos.
"A MAN!"
"KYAAA! PERVERT!"
"Get him!"
The screams of the bathing women echoed through the district. But these were not just civilian women. Konoha was a ninja village. Nanami distinctly heard the sound of a water dragon jutsu being formed, followed by the sickening thud of a wooden bath bucket striking human flesh.
"Wait! It's a misunderstanding!" Jiraiya's voice pleaded from inside. "I was conducting vital research for the—OW! Not the face! Please, not the face!"
Smack. Crash. Splash.
"Die, peeping tom!" a female voice yelled, followed by the sound of a lightning release jutsu crackling.
Nanami chuckled softly, hopping down from the tree. He leaned against the wall near the exit, crossing his arms and waiting patiently.
Ten minutes later, the back door of the bathhouse creaked open.
A figure crawled out onto the dirt path. It was Jiraiya, but he looked less like a legendary shinobi and more like someone who had been put through a meat grinder. His white hair was singed black at the ends. He had two massive black eyes, a swollen lower lip that made him look like a duck, and a perfectly bucket-shaped red welt on his forehead. His clothes were soaked and torn.
He groaned, rolling onto his back and staring up at the darkening sky.
"Good evening, Jiraiya," Nanami greeted cheerfully, stepping into his line of sight. "Did you find the hot springs relaxing? You look a bit tense."
Jiraiya's swollen eyes focused on Nanami. The gears in his head turned. He remembered the whisper in his ear.
Jiraiya scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain. His face twisted into a mask of pure rage.
"YOU!" Jiraiya roared, pointing a trembling, bruised finger at him. "You absolute demon! You ruined my research! I almost died in there!"
"Research requires sacrifice," Nanami replied, his smile unwavering.
Jiraiya didn't bother forming hand signs. He just let out a war cry and charged, throwing a wild, haymaker punch.
Nanami simply stepped to the side, letting Jiraiya stumble past him. "My, my. If you have this much energy left, the ladies must have gone easy on you. Shall we do some running?"
Nanami turned and started jogging down the alley.
"Get back here, you bread-baking bastard!" Jiraiya yelled, sprinting after him.
The cat and mouse chase began.
Nanami led him through the village, running across rooftops, bouncing off market awnings, and weaving through narrow alleys. Nanami wasn't using his full speed. He was treating it like a light evening jog, his breathing perfectly even, his hands often resting in his pockets as he hopped from roof to roof.
Jiraiya, however, was running as fast as he could on pure spite and adrenaline. He threw shuriken, tried to use a low-level fire jutsu, and cursed the entire time.
They ran for two hours straight. The moon was high in the sky by the time they reached the training grounds on the edge of the village.
Jiraiya's adrenaline finally ran out. His bruised body protested, and his lungs burned. He missed a jump, crashing through the branches of a large oak tree and landing heavily on a thick, lower bough.
He didn't get up. He just lay there, chest heaving, gasping for air.
A moment later, Nanami landed softly on the branch next to him. He didn't have a single drop of sweat on his face.
"Had enough?" Nanami asked, sitting down beside the exhausted Toad Sage.
"I... hate... you..." Jiraiya wheezed, staring at the canopy above.
Nanami laughed. "How did the ladies treat you in there? I heard some high-level water jutsu. I hope they gave you a nice, thorough treatment."
Jiraiya grumbled, rubbing his swollen lip. "I was just collecting notes. The female form is the highest expression of art. You wouldn't understand. You're shackled to one terrifying woman for the rest of your life."
"Oh, come on, we all know what that was," Nanami said, patting Jiraiya's shoulder. "Be grateful it was me who caught you. If it was Tsunade who found you hanging over that wall. She would have used her fists. You would be drinking your meals through a straw for the next six months."
Jiraiya shivered. He knew Nanami was right. A beating from random kunoichi was bad. A beating from Tsunade Senju was a life-altering event.
"As a sorry for interrupting your 'artistic' pursuits," Nanami continued, standing up and brushing off his pants. "How about I treat you to barbecue?"
Jiraiya, who had been lying flat like a corpse, suddenly sat bolt upright at the mention of free food. His swollen eye twitched. "Barbecue?"
"Yes. All you can eat. Premium beef."
Jiraiya stood up, his fatigue magically vanishing. He straightened his torn jacket. "Well? What are we waiting for? Let's go. I need protein to heal these wounds you caused."
Nanami shook his head, amused by the rapid recovery. "Lead the way."
They leaped out of the tree and began walking back toward the commercial district, heading for the famous BBQ Q restaurant. The streets were quieter now, lit by paper lanterns outside the shops.
As they walked, a voice called out from the street corner.
"Jiraiya-sensei!"
They turned. Walking toward them was a young boy, perhaps six or seven years old. He had bright, spiky blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He wore a simple civilian shirt and pants, but he carried himself with a quiet confidence that stood out.
Jiraiya's bruised face broke into a wide smile. "Oh! Minato! What are you doing out so late?"
"I was just finishing some shuriken practice at the training grounds," the boy replied politely, stopping in front of them. He noticed Jiraiya's battered face and blinked. "Sensei... what happened to your face?"
"Training!" Jiraiya lied loudly, puffing out his chest. "I was demonstrating a new, highly dangerous defensive technique. My opponent was incredibly fierce."
Nanami coughed politely to hide his laugh.
Jiraiya glared at him before turning back to the boy. "Minato, let me introduce you. This irritating guy here is Nanami Kento. He's an Elite Jonin. Kento, this is Minato Namikaze. I took him under my wing recently. He's still in the Academy, but he's got potential."
Minato looked at Nanami. His blue eyes were sharp, taking in Nanami's relaxed posture and the lack of any visible weapons. Minato bowed deeply, a perfect, respectful angle.
"It is an honor to meet you, Nanami-san. Jiraiya-sensei has told me... well, actually, he hasn't mentioned you. But it is an honor nonetheless."
Minato offered a bright, sunny smile that was entirely disarming.
Nanami smiled back, but his internal threat-assessment radar pinged with dark amusement. He has the perfect face for it, Nanami thought. He looks like a golden retriever puppy. The kind of guy who will smile brightly and apologize right before he teleports a kunai through your jugular. A sunny assassin. Terrifying.
"Just Nanami is fine, Minato. And don't listen to anything Jiraiya says about me anyway. Have you eaten dinner yet?"
Minato straightened up, looking a bit surprised. "Ah, no. I was going to head home and cook something simple."
"Nonsense," Nanami said, gesturing down the street. "Come with us. We're getting barbecue."
Minato shifted awkwardly. "Oh, I couldn't intrude on your time, Nanami-san. You and Sensei must have things to discuss."
"We discuss nothing of value," Nanami assured him. "Besides, growing boys need meat, not instant ramen. Come on. I'm paying."
Before Minato could protest further, Jiraiya grabbed the boy by the shoulder and marched him forward. "You heard the man! Free premium beef! Do not argue with a man offering free beef, Minato. It's a shinobi rule."
They arrived at BBQ Q. The smell of searing meat and rich sauce filled the air. They were seated at a booth near the back, a hot charcoal grill set into the center of the table.
Nanami handed the menu to Jiraiya. "Order whatever you like. And I mean whatever."
Jiraiya didn't hesitate. "We'll take five plates of the premium marbled beef, three plates of pork belly, two orders of beef tongue, a large bowl of rice for each of us, and a bottle of your strongest sake for me. Oh, and some water for the kid."
The waitress scribbled furiously and hurried away.
Minato sat across from Nanami, looking slightly overwhelmed by the sheer volume of food Jiraiya had just requested. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, keeping his hands neatly folded in his lap.
Nanami picked up the tongs, resting his chin on his other hand. "Minato. Don't worry about the bill. Order more if you want something specific. There is no need for hesitation at a dinner table. Eat until you can't walk."
"Yeah, kid," Jiraiya added, pouring himself a cup of sake as the waitress brought the bottles. "I paid with my blood and sweat for this treat tonight. Literally. My blood is on a bathhouse floor right now. So don't hold back. Eat it all."
Minato didn't ask about the bathhouse comment. He simply nodded, offering a small, grateful smile. "Thank you very much. This is plenty for me."
The meat arrived. Nanami took charge of the grill, placing the slices of marbled beef onto the hot metal. The sizzling sound was accompanied by a mouth-watering aroma.
As they ate, Jiraiya shoved a massive piece of pork belly into his mouth and looked at Nanami. "So, Kento. How's the wedding planning going? I bet the Senju are going all out. I heard Mito-sama ordered silk from the Capital."
Nanami flipped a piece of beef with a deadpan expression. "The planning is proceeding at maximum efficiency. Meaning, I am completely excluded from it."
Jiraiya laughed loudly, nearly choking on his pork. "Excluded? It's your wedding!"
"I attempted to give my opinion today," Nanami recounted, his voice perfectly flat. "I gave a few suggestions. I was immediately informed that my suggestions were invalid, my presence in the room was a nuisance, and I was promptly thrown out into the courtyard. Mito sama, Kaede san, and my mother have formed a triumvirate of absolute dictatorship. They took my ideas, smiled politely, threw them directly into the dustbin, and thanked me for my useless input."
Jiraiya slammed his hand on the table, howling with laughter. "The great Nanami Kento! The genius of the generation! Reduced to a mere prop!"
"I am a mannequin," Nanami agreed, placing a perfectly cooked piece of beef onto Minato's plate. "I do not even know what clothes I am wearing. I am simply waiting for the day to arrive, where I will be dressed by someone else, pointed toward the altar, and told to say 'I do' at the correct interval."
Jiraiya wiped a tear of mirth from his good eye. "Welcome to marriage, my friend. This is why I remain a free spirit. The Toad Sage answers to no woman!"
"Except the ones with the wooden buckets," Nanami noted mildly.
Jiraiya coughed loudly, suddenly very interested in his rice.
Minato, who had been watching the exchange, tilted his head. "If you dislike the planning so much, Nanami-san... why did you agree to the marriage?"
The table went quiet. Jiraiya looked at the kid like he had just poked a sleeping bear with a short stick.
Nanami stopped grilling. He looked at Minato. The deadpan, bored expression melted away entirely, replaced by a genuine, warm smile that softened his sea-green eyes.
"Because the color of the napkins doesn't matter, Minato," Nanami said softly, tapping the tongs against the grill. "The guest list, the cake, the flowers... It's all just noise. The only thing that matters is the person standing next to you at the end of the day. For her, I would wear a burlap sack if she asked me to."
Minato blinked, absorbing the words. He nodded slowly, a small, genuine smile forming on his face. He filed that piece of information away.
Throughout the rest of the meal, Minato sat quietly, chewing his beef. His sharp blue eyes moved between Jiraiya and Nanami, but mostly, they lingered on Nanami. Minato was a prodigy, and prodigies noticed things.
He noticed that Nanami made absolutely no sound when he breathed. His chopstick movements were perfectly efficient, wasting zero energy. He looked at Nanami's knuckles as he turned the meat—they were covered in massive, hardened calluses that spoke of thousands of impacts against solid objects. Most terrifyingly, Minato realized that despite Nanami's completely relaxed, slouching posture, there were zero blind spots. If someone attacked right now, Nanami wouldn't need to adjust his stance to kill them; his body was already pre-loaded for violence.
Minato was putting the pieces together.
Nanami Kento. Elite Jonin. Engaged to someone named Tsunade, whose family is overseen by 'Mito-sama'... Mito Uzumaki.
Minato's eyes widened slightly in realization. The man grilling meat across from him was the fiancé of Tsunade Senju. He was the legendary student of the Second Hokage. He was the man who had supposedly rewritten Konoha's entire barrier system at age 13.
Minato decided it was best to stay very silent and eat his beef. The politics and power sitting at this table were far beyond his Academy pay grade.
They spent the next hour clearing the plates. Jiraiya ate like a starving bear, Nanami ate with steady, small bites, and Minato managed to eat an impressive amount for a kid his size, encouraged by Nanami placing the best cuts on his plate.
Once their stomachs were full and the bill was paid, they stepped out of the restaurant into the cool night air.
Minato bowed deeply to Nanami. "Thank you again for the meal, Nanami-san. It was the best beef I've ever had."
"Don't mention it," Nanami smiled. "Keep training hard, Minato. I expect to hear your name in the future."
"I will do my best. Goodnight, Jiraiya-sensei. Try to put some ice on your face."
"I heal fast, kid! Get home safe!" Jiraiya waved.
Minato turned and jogged down the street, his blonde hair catching the moonlight until he disappeared around a corner.
Nanami watched him go, his relaxed expression shifting into something slightly more analytical. He turned to Jiraiya.
"So," Nanami said quietly. "Is the kid actually talented? Or are you just trying to look like a responsible adult?"
Jiraiya dropped the goofy, loud persona. His bruised face became entirely serious. The Toad Sage was a fool, but he was a fool who understood Shinobi better than almost anyone.
"He is a once-in-a-generation talent, Kento," Jiraiya said, his voice dropping an octave. "I'm not exaggerating. His reflexes are absurd. He has top-tier intelligence, he scored perfect on the written exam, and his combat intuition is terrifying. He sees three steps ahead in a spar. He's a genius."
Nanami nodded slowly. He knew this, of course. He knew Minato would become the Yellow Flash. But hearing it from Jiraiya confirmed that the timeline was holding steady where it mattered.
"A genius," Nanami mused. He looked at Jiraiya. "You know, the Rasengan is a difficult technique."
Jiraiya blinked, surprised by the sudden change in topic. "Yeah. It is. It took me months to figure out the rotation and containment, even with your notes."
"It requires no hand signs. Pure shape manipulation," Nanami continued. "It requires a level of chakra control that most Jonin never achieve."
Nanami put his hands in his pockets.
"I give you permission to teach it to him."
Jiraiya's jaw dropped. He stared at Nanami in shock. "Are you serious? Kento, that's your personal jutsu. You invented it. I was going to ask you in a few years if he proved himself, but..."
"I'm serious," Nanami nodded. "I have no problem sharing it with someone who won't blow their own arm off. If he has the talent you say he does, the Rasengan will suit him perfectly. Let him have it. Consider it my contribution to your teaching career."
Jiraiya looked deeply moved. For a moment, he forgot the bruises and the pain. He placed a hand on Nanami's shoulder. "Thank you, Kento. Truly. I'll make sure he masters it."
"Make sure he doesn't destroy the training grounds," Nanami corrected.
He took a step away, preparing to head home. Then, he paused and looked back over his shoulder, a familiar, playful spark returning to his sea-green eyes.
"Oh, and Jiraiya. Before I forget."
"Yeah?"
"You know how the Rasengan is purely shape manipulation? It has no elemental nature attached to it?"
"Right," Jiraiya nodded. "You said adding an element to a spinning sphere of chakra was practically impossible. The containment would fail."
"I lied," Nanami grinned. "Or rather, I figured it out while I was in training sage mode. I managed to mix my chakra nature into the Rasengan."
Jiraiya froze. The sheer impossibility of that statement hit his shinobi brain like a physical blow. To combine the ultimate shape manipulation with nature transformation... it was a theoretical jutsu that shouldn't exist.
"You... you did what?" Jiraiya whispered.
"Come to my house tomorrow after lunch," Nanami said casually, as if inviting him over for tea. "I'll show you the basics of it. And try not to peep on anyone on the way over."
Jiraiya's bruised face lit up with the excitement of a kid in a candy store. The pain of the bathhouse was entirely forgotten.
"I'll be there!" Jiraiya shouted, pumping a fist into the air. "Definitely! Right after lunch!"
"See you then."
Nanami turned and walked away into the night, leaving Jiraiya vibrating with excitement on the street corner.