From Sakumo's perspective, the five-man squad that the Third Hokage had tasked Jiraiya with forming had a clear political agenda.
The son of the Hokage, the son of the Anbu Commander, the daughter of a clan leader, and two exceptionally gifted civilians—this team covered every faction under the Hokage's influence.
It was almost as if they were cultivating the next generation of leaders for the Hokage's faction.
With that in mind, both the Third Hokage and Jiraiya would undoubtedly instill in these children a deep-rooted opposition toward the Uchiha clan.
And among those aligned with the Hokage's faction, there was no one who understood Fuma's way of handling things better than Sakumo himself—no one.
If his son were to grow up in this environment, and if he were to one day stand at the forefront of this new generation, directly opposing the Uchiha clan… could that really lead to a good outcome?
Sakumo didn't have all the answers, but one thing was certain—he didn't want Kakashi to be influenced by such an ideology.
With Jiraiya forced to withdraw due to his injuries, Sakumo found himself with an opportunity to take over. This was his best chance to reshape the mindset of the squad and steer it away from its current path.
'The feud between the Uchiha and Konoha… perhaps, in just a few years, it will finally reach its conclusion.'
'So, I won't let you bear any meaningless shackles, my son.'
Sakumo smiled warmly at Kakashi, twirling the blade in his hand with elegant precision before issuing a challenge.
"Kakashi, it's been a while since we had a proper father-son spar, hasn't it?"
Kakashi grinned as well, drawing White Fang from its sheath, "Father, no matter what happens, I'll always follow your lead."
...........
Konoha Medical Division~
The area around Jiraiya's hospital bed was packed with Konoha's most skilled medical-nin.
They worked in rotations, each group stepping forward in turns to apply Mystical Palm Technique in an effort to heal his wounds.
Koharu wiped the sweat from her forehead. Even for someone of her expertise, continuously using Mystical Palm for several hours was an immense strain.
"Hiruzen, Jiraiya's condition has stabilized—his life is no longer in danger," Koharu reported, her voice strained as she tried to suppress her frustration. She gritted her teeth before continuing.
"The wounds themselves are healing well enough, but his bones… they're beyond shattered. They've been ground into powder."
"The real problem is the fractures in his spine. The damage reached his central nervous system. Even the slightest mistake could result in paralysis."
"We saved his life, but as a shinobi? He'll never return to the battlefield."
Hearing this, the Third Hokage clenched his fists. "I see… I understand."
"…Heh… cough… have they fixed my vocal cords yet?" Jiraiya's hoarse voice broke the tense silence. He lifted his head with difficulty, speaking in a labored tone.
"There's no need to worry about me. I know my own injuries. Fūma didn't even go for the kill—he left me alive, but he made sure to end my shinobi career."
"I know how he operates. I lost, and I accept that."
Seeing Jiraiya awake, the Third Hokage was momentarily relieved, but that feeling was quickly replaced by something else—anger.
Yes, anger.
Back when Jiraiya had consulted him about this mission, Hiruzen had explicitly warned him: Do not engage Fūma, do not provoke him.
But Jiraiya had ignored that advice. He had acted recklessly and, in doing so, disrupted a fragile situation that had the potential to improve.
"Jiraiya… why? Why did you provoke Fūma? I told you to proceed with caution!" Hiruzen sat at the bedside, his eyes filled with sorrow.
Jiraiya forced a bitter smile and explained, "Lord Fukasaku and Lady Shima told me… They sensed a demonic presence in Fūma. They insisted I had to eliminate him, or else he might bring about a catastrophe that could destroy the shinobi world."
"I originally only wanted to suppress him, just to remind everyone that the Hokage faction hasn't lost its strength. But the moment I entered Sage Mode… everything spiraled out of control."
"Argh!" Hiruzen squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. He stood abruptly and began pacing around the crowded hospital room, his usual composure shattered.
"That pair of toads? Whatever they say, you just obey? Jiraiya, look at yourself!" He pointed sharply at his bedridden student.
"You are not a follower of Mount Myōboku—you are a shinobi of Konoha!"
"Give me the summoning scroll for Mount Myōboku. I need to contact them. They owe us an explanation!"
Jiraiya frowned. Ignoring the pain coursing through his body, he raised his voice in protest.
"Old man, don't talk nonsense! Lord Fukasaku told me—Fūma is tainted by an evil force called the 'Box of Ultimate Bliss.' It contains a demon capable of destroying the world!"
"I lost, fair and square. I accept that. But you must not slander Mount Myōboku!"
"You—Jiraiya, you fool!" Hiruzen's patience finally snapped.
"The Box of Ultimate Bliss? It's one of the Six Paths' relics. It's been sealed away for centuries because no shinobi has ever been able to open it. The Five Great Villages agreed long ago to let Kusagakure safeguard it!"
"You know the Kinkaku and Ginkaku brothers, don't you?"
Jiraiya hesitated, then nodded. "Yes… the Kumo shinobi who perished alongside the Second Hokage."
"Then you should know—they wielded the Six Paths' relics! And today, Kumo holds four or five of those artifacts!"
"So tell me, if the Box of Ultimate Bliss is truly some monstrous evil, then why didn't Mount Myōboku help us in our war against Kumo back then?!"
Hiruzen's fury filled the room, prompting the medical-nin to quietly slip away. Only Koharu remained.
"…Maybe the demon was only sealed inside the Box of Ultimate Bliss?" Jiraiya murmured uncertainly. "The other Six Paths relics… maybe they aren't as destructive…"
Even as doubt crept into his mind, Jiraiya couldn't bring himself to suspect the toads—especially not Lord Fukasaku and Lady Shima, who had been slain by Fūma.
Hiruzen took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. 'When did this happen? When did Jiraiya start treating Mount Myōboku as more than just a summoning contract?'
Tsunade and Orochimaru were both inheritors of legendary summoning creatures, yet neither of them treated their summons like masters.
Tsunade respected the Great Slug Sage, but she viewed Katsuyu as an ally—like the Inuzuka clan did with their ninken.
Orochimaru, on the other hand, was ruthless. To him, the snakes of Ryūchi Cave were nothing more than tools to be discarded when no longer useful.
But Jiraiya… Jiraiya had become utterly devoted to Mount Myōboku.
Hiruzen recalled the day Jiraiya had first mastered Sage Mode and proudly shown him the results.
That day, Jiraiya had discarded his Konoha headband. In its place was one bearing the kanji for "Oil"—the symbol of Mount Myōboku.
In the shinobi world, a headband was more than just a piece of cloth. It was an identity, a declaration of allegiance.
Even missing-nin, after abandoning their village, still bore the scarred remains of their original forehead protectors as a testament to their past.
Jiraiya, a direct disciple of the Hokage, had chosen to replace his.
The meaning was clear: His first loyalty was to Mount Myōboku—not Konoha.
"Hand over the summoning scroll for Mount Myōboku." Hiruzen finally broke the tense silence, his voice carefully measured.
"If Fūma truly poses a threat, Konoha will investigate further."
He softened his tone and added, "Tell me more about Mount Myōboku, Jiraiya."
Seeing that Hiruzen's attitude had shifted, Jiraiya visibly relaxed. He coughed weakly but forced himself to continue.
"Mount Myōboku's intentions are pure. The fault is mine—I failed to carry out their will properly. Don't blame them, old man. They are the guardians of the shinobi world."
"The scroll… it's hidden in a compartment beneath my floorboards. Take it if you must…"
"But the most important thing—the Child of Prophecy! Among my students, only Kakashi has the potential…
Old man, when you contact Mount Myōboku, confirm it with the Great Toad Sage. Finding the Child of Prophecy is the true key to peace!"
Jiraiya's eyes burned with conviction, as if this was his life's sole purpose.
Hiruzen merely nodded, though deep down, he dismissed the notion entirely.
A "Child of Prophecy"? What nonsense.
'How much chakra does this Child of Prophecy have? How many elite jōnin can they command?'
Only power dictated the fate of the world—not some mystical prediction. Watching Jiraiya grow more animated, Hiruzen rubbed his temples and sighed.
'Jiraiya… is lost to us.'
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