The Hokage's office was a sanctuary of flickering lamplight, the evening air thick with the scent of old scrolls and the weight of unspoken questions. Tsunade leaned against her desk, her arms crossed tightly, her amber eyes drilling into Kakashi as she pressed for every detail of Naruto's abrupt departure from the team. "Not a single flare-up from the Nine-Tails?" she asked, her voice sharp, cutting through the quiet like a kunai through silk. "Yamato would've sensed it the instant it happened."
Kakashi shifted, his single visible eye clouded with unease beneath his slanted headband. "Nothing. No chakra spikes, no berserk aura. The only oddity was Naruto collapsing mid-mission. When he woke, it was like… he was a different person. Focused, driven, like he had a mission only he understood. He left without a word, vanishing into the forest." Kakashi's tone carried a mix of admiration and suspicion, his mind replaying the moment Naruto's silhouette blurred away, leaving the team scrambling to catch up.
Tsunade's jaw tightened, her mind a whirlwind of doubt and calculation. Jiraiya's report still echoed in her ears: Nagato, her old friend's student, wielding the Rinnegan to puppeteer six corpses—the Six Paths of Pain, with Yahiko's face on the Deva Path, and another, a Fuma clansman, among them. Naruto's rescue in the Hidden Rain Village, his mastery of Sage Mode, and his sudden, bold confession to Hinata painted a picture that didn't quite fit. How did he know Jiraiya was in danger? she wondered, her Hokage instincts screaming for clarity. But she held her silence, her gaze flicking to Jiraiya, who sat nursing his bandaged stump, lost in his own thoughts.
Konoha's streets shimmered under a velvet sky, the stars half-hidden by wisps of autumn clouds. Street lamps cast pools of golden light, their glow dancing on the cobblestones as a cool breeze carried the faint scent of grilled skewers from nearby stalls. Jiraiya sat on a weathered bench, his white hair catching the lamplight, his bandaged arm a dull ache against the chill. The rhythmic clatter of footsteps broke the night's quiet, and he looked up, spotting Naruto jogging toward him, a plastic bag swinging in his hand, his orange jacket a bright splash against the shadows.
"Took you forever, kid," Jiraiya teased, his good hand gesturing lazily. "What, get lost in the store? Or were you flirting with some shop girl?"
Naruto plopped onto the bench, catching his breath, his cheeks flushed from the run. "Nah, Sensei, had to dig through the freezer to find this flavor. Worth the hunt, though." He tore open the bag with a crinkle, pulling out a double-stick popsicle, its wrapper glinting in the lamplight. With a quick snap, he broke it in half, handing one stick to Jiraiya. "Here, Sensei. Your favorite."
Jiraiya took it, his eyes softening as a flood of memories washed over him. Years ago, under a blazing sun, he'd watched a sweaty, stubborn Naruto buy a similar popsicle during Rasengan training, the kid's thirst outweighing his wallet. Jiraiya had hoped for a bite, only to get the same flavor shoved at him with a grin. Still cherry, he thought, biting into the icy sweetness, the tart flavor bursting on his tongue. The autumn breeze tugged at his ponytail, and he shivered, but the warmth of the moment—Naruto's goofy grin, the shared treat—chased the cold away.
"Dragging an old man out to eat popsicles in this weather?" Jiraiya grumbled, though his voice was thick with affection. "You're gonna freeze me to death before Pain gets another shot." He licked the popsicle, savoring the nostalgic tang, his eyes crinkling as he watched Naruto munch happily beside him, the boy's face lit with a contentment that felt… heavy, somehow. Like he was carrying more than a sixteen-year-old should.
Naruto sucked on his popsicle, the cold stinging his teeth, and shook his head. "Not just for this, Sensei. I need something from you—the key to the Nine-Tails' seal."
Jiraiya's hand froze mid-bite, the popsicle dripping onto his fingers. His eyes narrowed, the weight of the request settling like a stone in his chest. "The key?" His voice was low, cautious, the playful lilt gone. Before facing Pain in the Rain Village, he'd entrusted Gerotora, the Scroll Toad, with the key, instructing it to deliver it to Ibiki Morino in Konoha if he didn't return. Naruto's rescue had upended that plan, but the boy's secrecy—his sudden mastery of Sage Mode, Rasengan, and the Flying Thunder God technique—stirred a flicker of doubt. Nagato's betrayal had left scars deeper than the stump of his arm, and the key could unleash the Nine-Tails' full fury.
Naruto caught the hesitation, his sage-orange eyes steady, almost too knowing. "Don't worry, Sensei. I know what I'm asking. The Nine-Tails has been too quiet lately, like it's hiding something. I need to check the seal, make sure it's stable. Dad… he told me to get the key from you. He trusts me to handle it under your watch."
Jiraiya's brow furrowed, the popsicle forgotten in his hand. "Minato said that?" His mind raced, piecing together the puzzle. In his future life, Naruto had become the Seventh Hokage, mastering skills beyond his years, including the Flying Thunder God after losing the Nine-Tails' instant teleportation. That future knowledge explained his uncanny timing in the Rain Village, but it didn't ease Jiraiya's unease. Minato sealed his chakra in the boy. If he guided Naruto to this, I have to trust it.
Naruto grinned, his voice light but sincere. "Yeah, you think I'd come up with this on my own? I'm not that smart, Sensei." He took another bite, the cherry flavor grounding him, a fleeting anchor to simpler days when a popsicle and Jiraiya's laughter were enough to chase away the world's weight.
Jiraiya studied him, the lamplight casting shadows across Naruto's whiskered face. The boy's confidence, his quiet strength, echoed Minato's, but there was something else—a depth, a sorrow Jiraiya couldn't place. Nagato's fall had taught him caution, but Naruto's heart… that was something he'd always trusted. He sighed, finishing his popsicle with a crunch. "Alright, kid. Let's do this. I'm one hand short for seals, so you're helping."
Naruto blinked, wiping popsicle juice from his chin. "Huh? Seals?"
Jiraiya rolled his eyes, his grin returning. "Yeah, knucklehead. I can't weave signs with one hand. Lend me yours."
Naruto laughed, his voice bright against the night's quiet. "Got it, Sensei!" He mimicked Jiraiya's hand signs, their fingers moving in sync, a rhythm born of years of trust. With a puff of smoke, Gerotora appeared, its scroll-like body unfurling, its gruff voice cutting through the air. "Jiraiya! You again? What's the big idea, dragging me out in the cold?"
Spotting Naruto, Gerotora's eyes narrowed, its webbed feet tapping impatiently. "You're giving the key to this kid? The Nine-Tails' keeper?"
Jiraiya nodded, his expression resolute. "I decided this before the Rain Village. Naruto's ready."
Gerotora's gaze flicked to Jiraiya's bandaged stump, then to Naruto's determined face. "You're half-broken, Jiraiya. If this kid loses control of the Nine-Tails, you're in no shape to stop it. And you—" it turned to Naruto, "—you know how dangerous that fox is? Even the Fourth Hokage barely sealed it."
Naruto's smile didn't waver, his sage chakra pulsing faintly. "I'm not the same Naruto, Gerotora. I've got a handle on things. Trust me."
Jiraiya cut in, his voice firm. "Enough, Gerotora. I've made my choice. Transfer the key."
Gerotora grumbled, unfurling its scroll-body to reveal the intricate seal pattern of the Nine-Tails, etched by Minato years ago. "Fine, kid. Place your hand here. Don't mess this up."
Naruto stepped forward, his palm pressing against the seal with a confidence born of his future life. He'd faced Kurama before, fought for control in the mental sewer of his seal, but this time, the fox was silent, its chakra link sealed off like a locked gate. What's wrong with you, Kurama? he wondered, his heart heavy with unease. The key would let him force entry, confront the beast, and uncover why it was hiding.
A soft glow pulsed from the seal, the pattern transferring to Naruto's palm, a faint burn of chakra settling into his core. Gerotora rolled up, its voice gruff but approving. "It's done. The key's yours, kid. Don't make me regret this."
Naruto flexed his hand, feeling the seal's weight, a tether to the Nine-Tails' power. He flashed a grin, hiding the flicker of doubt in his chest. "Thanks, Gerotora. I won't let you down."
Jiraiya clapped his good hand on Naruto's shoulder, his eyes warm but shadowed with concern. "You're the Nine-Tails' keeper now, kid. That's no small thing. You sure you're ready for this?"
Naruto's grin widened, his voice steady. "I've handled worse, Sensei. Kurama's tough, but I'll make him listen." In his past life, he'd tamed the Nine-Tails, forging a bond that saved the world. But this Kurama, in this timeline, felt different—distant, wary. He needed answers.
Jiraiya's gaze lingered, pride warring with worry. "Alright. We need to brief Tsunade on our next steps. She's already got Pain's secret—Nagato's puppets, the Rinnegan—but we've got to plan for his next move. And Sasuke…" His voice trailed off, the pain of another lost student cutting deep. "Kakashi said he fought Itachi, won, and got taken by some guy claiming to be Madara."
Naruto's jaw tightened, his future knowledge a heavy burden. Tobi—Obito—was manipulating Sasuke, feeding him lies about Itachi's sacrifice. In his past life, Sasuke had spiraled toward Cloud Thunder Gorge, hunting the Eight-Tails. I've got to reach him first, Naruto thought, his hand brushing the scroll at his hip, a placeholder for future tools he couldn't yet wield. "I'll find Sasuke, Sensei. And I'll deal with Pain. Nagato's not too far gone—I can still reach him."
Jiraiya's eyes softened, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You sound like Minato, kid. Always believing in the impossible." He stood, wincing as his stump throbbed, and tossed his popsicle stick into a nearby bin. "Let's get moving. Tsunade's probably pacing a hole in her office floor by now."
Naruto laughed, the sound bright against the night's chill. He stood, the weight of the key, the Nine-Tails, and his mission settling over him like a mantle. Konoha's lights glowed around them, a beacon of the home he'd sworn to protect. In the shadows, a dog-masked Root operative watched, silent as a ghost, reporting to Danzo. The old man's schemes loomed, but Naruto's focus was unshakable: Sasuke, Nagato, Konoha. With Jiraiya at his side and the Flying Thunder God in his arsenal, the child of prophecy strode into the night, ready to rewrite the future.