Mount Myōboku.
Through reverse summoning, Jiraiya now stood before the Great Toad Sage.
On the high platform, the elder toad, Gamamaru, looked as if he had just woken from a long nap. His cloudy eyes blinked, and he asked hazily,
"Who are you…?"
The old toad Fukasaku quickly replied,
"This is Jiraiya, little Jiraiya. Old man, you've forgotten again."
Gamamaru thought for a long while, eyelids drooping as if he might fall back asleep at any moment.
Beside him, the female toad, Shima, called out sharply,
"We only saw him a month ago! You senile old fool, don't you fall asleep again!"
Fukasaku flustered,
"Now, now, don't talk to the Great Sage like that, my dear."
Shima snorted in annoyance.
"Did I say anything wrong? If he can't remember anything from day to day, what else should I call him besides a senile old man?"
Her sharp voice startled Gamamaru back to awareness. He reached out for a sake bottle and downed it in one go.
"All right, all right, no quarreling. A husband and wife should live in harmony."
Then, squinting his ancient eyes, he looked back at Jiraiya.
"Now then, who are you again?"
With Fukasaku's reminder and Jiraiya's exasperated glare, Gamamaru finally sighed,
"So you've grown up, little Jiraiya."
He continued,
"As for the person you asked about last time… In the past month, in occasional dreams, I seem to have glimpsed a different kind of future."
"A different future?"
Jiraiya froze. Had the prophecy changed? What did this mean for the Child of Prophecy?
Gamamaru gave him no time to think further.
"I saw… many, many… many shinobi… farming."
"Farming?!"
The exclamations burst out at once—from both Fukasaku, Shima, and even Jiraiya himself.
Ninja farming? The idea sounded absurd. If taken literally, who could imagine shinobi tending fields?
Gamamaru went on,
"After a great war, the vast majority of ninja were farming. Earth Release plowed the soil, Water Release irrigated the fields, Fire Release and taijutsu forged tools, Lightning Release provided power, Wind Release cut wood and stone. Many, many shinobi, each using their own skills for production…"
The sudden image stunned Jiraiya. Ninja… producing goods instead of fighting? Impossible!
He was about to ask more, but Gamamaru spoke again,
"The future has already grown unpredictable. Even the dreams of a toad are now disturbed. Little Jiraiya, this is all I can tell you."
With those words, he drained another bottle of sake and drifted back into slumber.
But the fragments he left behind kept Jiraiya unsettled.
The future was now unpredictable? What about the Child of Prophecy, the one meant to guide the world to peace?
A great war? That part was plausible; history had proven such conflicts were never far away.
But a world where countless shinobi tilled the fields? That seemed utterly impossible. When had the majority of ninja ever farmed?
Shima tried to comfort him,
"Little Jiraiya, the old man's senility has gotten worse. Don't take it too seriously. Besides, if all shinobi really did take to farming, that would be a blessing, wouldn't it? At least you humans wouldn't be fighting each other anymore."
Her words struck Jiraiya like a revelation. She was right. If shinobi farmed instead of fought, there would be no more wars. In that sense… it might be a beautiful future.
Fukasaku hopped lightly onto Jiraiya's shoulder.
"It's already noon. Little Jiraiya, if you're not too busy, why not stay for a meal?"
Jiraiya nearly leapt out of his skin. A meal on Mount Myōboku? That meant a table full of insects!
No way. Time to run.
Land of Rain.
Hidden in the shadows, Uchiha Shion froze when he spotted the flamboyant figure ahead.
Jiraiya? What was he doing in the Land of Rain at this time?
In his memory, this lecherous old fool hadn't known much about Amegakure's changes—or his three disciples'—until his final battle. At this point in time, shouldn't he have stayed away instead of investigating Rain?
After arriving, Jiraiya first went to the old hideout. But all that remained there was rubble. Finding nothing useful, his "ailment" flared up, and naturally he wandered into town to "gather intelligence" at a brothel.
From the shadows, Shion concealed his chakra, observing quietly. He wanted to see how events would unfold.
Too much had already been altered by the flap of a butterfly's wings. If Jiraiya clashed with the Six Paths of Pain here, that might actually work in Shion's favor. He might even snatch a limb or two for his own use.
As night fell, Jiraiya—sated with food and drink—began his nightly "research."
Outside the women's bathhouse, a spiky-haired white-haired old pervert crouched low, peeking inside, his rear wiggling obscenely.
In the shadows, Shion pressed a hand to his forehead. He really shouldn't have expected anything decent from this man. Most likely Jiraiya had just wandered into Rain by accident during his peeping rounds.
Utterly hopeless.
Shion thought for a moment, then smirked, pressing his palms together into the Ram seal.
"Wood Release: Advent of a World of Trees."
In an instant, under his control, a sharpened branch thrust up from the soil. Its tip aimed precisely between the two wobbling targets.
Could the old fool hold still for once?!
Shnk!
With a sudden burst, the branch shot upward.
Pfft.
In a flash—blossoming chrysanthemum.
"AAAAHHHHHHH!!!"
With a bloodcurdling scream, Jiraiya shot forward, smashing through the wooden door and tumbling straight into the bath.
"Ahhh!"
"A man! A pervert!"
"Get him!"
"Where's my towel?!"
"Forget the towel—cover your face!"
Shouts and chaos erupted as steam and screams filled the bathhouse.
Behind them, a puff of smoke rose. From the mist, a figure appeared behind Shion, clutching his rear. Spiky white hair, painted face—it was Jiraiya.
"Kid, don't you know that when a Shadow Clone disperses, all sensations return to the original body? I—"
Still holding his backside, Jiraiya froze mid-sentence.
"Uchiha Shion?"
Shion eyed his awkward pose with clear disdain.
"Did the branch make a sound when it broke the surface? Your clone dispersed fast—I barely noticed. But if I hadn't aimed so carefully, I could've skewered you into a kebab on the spot."
The memory made Jiraiya's face tighten. That sensation had been far too real.
They spoke in unison:
"What are you doing in the Land of Rain?"
Jiraiya chuckled.
"Minato told me you're supposed to be an all-knowing existence. And yet, you don't know why I'm here?"
Shion replied evenly,
"No one is truly all-knowing. Every variable creates countless new branches of possibility. All I can ever see is one outcome."
"One outcome?" Jiraiya frowned. "What sort of outcome have you seen?"
Shion gave him a long, disdainful look, from head to toe.
"The answer to that question is beyond what you can afford. Put another way—you don't carry any chips I'd consider worth the trade."
His tone turned cold.
"You've returned to Konoha, so you should already know: here, information is exchanged for something of equal value. Unfortunately… you're worthless."