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(Pov Nawaki)
The forest was quiet, the sky beginning to fill with stars, but Nawaki couldn't help the crooked smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Still seated beneath a twisted tree, the cool night air brushing against his skin, he reflected on what he had witnessed earlier that day: Jiraiya.
The super pervert.
— "I'm gonna see all the women in the world naked!" — he had shouted earlier, cheeks flushed with excitement and eyes sparkling like he'd just discovered the universe's greatest secret.
Nawaki could still hear the echo of those words in his mind, and despite his mature, sharp, reincarnated soul, he couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh.
— "Hah… what an idiot." — he muttered to himself, amused.
But there was something about Jiraiya. Something... liberating. The boy was clumsy, impulsive, totally unfiltered. While nearly everyone in the village wore masks, hiding their true selves beneath layers of tradition and expectation, Jiraiya was... free. He said what he thought, did what he wanted. Like a sudden beam of light piercing through the political and shinobi-duty-filled haze.
And Nawaki? He knew the value of someone like that.
He could already imagine the most absurd situations: Jiraiya peeking into bathhouses, getting smacked from every direction, running through alleys screaming ridiculous excuses... A comic relief, a clown—but also... a shield. Someone who drew attention and distracted the world while Nawaki moved his pieces quietly.
It was almost ironic.
POF! A branch snapped, pulling him back to the present.
— "Nawaki!" — came Jiraiya's voice, far too loud for the hour, echoing through the trees like a stone thrown into a calm lake. — "Found you! I looked everywhere!"
Nawaki raised an eyebrow, the smirk still lingering.
— "Looking for me?" — he asked, already assuming the reason was just as ridiculous as the boy's other wild ideas.
Jiraiya stumbled over the roots like a wild boar, panting but with his usual wide, shameless grin.
— "Guess what I was thinking? Tomorrow we should explore the village's hot springs! I heard the kunoichi from the west wing are the prettiest!" — His eyes gleamed with anticipation.
Nawaki crossed his arms, his sharp gaze tinged with irony.
— "You really are beyond saving, huh?"
— "Of course! I have a divine mission, hahaha!" — Jiraiya threw his head back, laughing like Kami-sama himself had just handed him a holy prophecy.
Nawaki shook his head. But deep down, he was more entertained than he'd ever admit. The contrast between them was almost poetic. He, the last male heir of the Senju, cold, strategic, and carrying a reincarnated soul. Jiraiya, the loud, useless frog, shouting his desires to the sky.
— "So… tomorrow?" — Jiraiya pressed, blinking.
— "No." — Nawaki answered flatly, and noticed a flicker of disappointment in the boy's eyes.
Then, just for fun, he added:
— "Maybe… after training."
Jiraiya jumped into the air, arms raised like he had just won a lottery.
— "YES! You won't regret this!"
— "I already do," Nawaki muttered, turning away to hide the little smile tugging at his lips.
CRACK! Another branch snapped under Jiraiya's fidgety feet.
— "You should loosen up, Nawaki! You're always so serious... I bet you don't even know what fun is!"
— "Fun doesn't bring power," he replied automatically.
But Jiraiya shook his head with conviction.
— "Sure it does! If you're having fun, you live longer!"
Nawaki paused, the night breeze rustling the leaves above. Maybe Jiraiya was right… not about living longer, but about the value of distraction. The world was full of shadows, plots, and pressure. Having an idiot next to you, shouting nonsense to the heavens, was an underrated tactic.
— "Also..." — Jiraiya scratched his head — "if we don't enjoy it now, we'll regret it when we're old!"
Nawaki gave him a sideways glance.
— "You really think you'll grow old? You're more optimistic than I thought."
— "I'm gonna live to a hundred! Hopefully surrounded by beautiful women!"
Nawaki sighed.
— "Pathetic."
But deep down, that silly vision of the future… gave him strange comfort. The shinobi path was cruel. Full of early deaths, betrayal, and broken promises. Maybe Jiraiya's fantasy was healthier than the harsh reality Nawaki already understood.
SWOOSH! The wind whispered, cold, like fate rustling through the leaves.
They stood in silence for a moment, listening to the trees and the distant chirping of some stubborn cricket.
— "Jiraiya..." Nawaki broke the silence, his voice lower, almost thoughtful.
— "Yeah?"
— "One day… you'll see." — Nawaki looked at the starry sky, the constellations gleaming like they were outlining his future. — "We'll be known all over the world. Me, you… and anyone else who walks beside us."
Jiraiya blinked, confused. Then his grin grew even wider.
— "Known? Pfft! I'm gonna be famous! I'll write books, tell amazing stories… women will love me!"
Nawaki laughed, a low, serpentine sound slipping from between his teeth.
— "And I… I'll be Hokage."
Jiraiya looked at him, caught between surprise and admiration.
— "Hokage? Seriously? With that sour face of yours?" — He gave him a playful pat on the back, which Nawaki didn't even flinch at.
— "Exactly. And you'll be there. Annoying me."
— "Absolutely!" — Jiraiya laughed so loud it scared a few birds off their branches.
And there, in that forgotten clearing of Konoha, an unlikely friendship was born. A strange bond, built on laughter, playful punches, half-learned jutsu, and dreams far too big for two children.
POF! Another branch cracked as Jiraiya jumped around, imitating a frog.
— "Let's go, Hokage! Time to get home before my stomach complains louder than I do!"
— "You're an idiot, Jiraiya." — Nawaki smirked.
But deep down, he knew: that idiot would be useful. Very useful.
They vanished into the night, the sound of leaves underfoot mixing with muffled laughter.
And even while laughing, Nawaki was already calculating his next moves.
Jiraiya was just the beginning.
The game? Oh… the game had only just begun.