Jiraiya had once thought that taking a student at twenty-two was far too early.
As the favored disciple of the Third Hokage, he had no shortage of applicants. Children from great clans, heirs polished from birth, all eager to kneel before him. Yet he always felt that binding himself so soon was a waste of freedom, a chain placed before its time.
That belief shattered today.
He had only come to the Academy at the Hokage's request, to give a lesson on the Substitution Technique. Instead, he arrived just in time to witness a fight that made even him clap in genuine admiration.
That black-haired boy possessed something essential. Decisiveness. Judgment. And beyond that, a combat instinct sharp enough to be unsettling.
Too early, and the Substitution would have been read cleanly by the Sharingan. Too late, and the kunai would have struck flesh. In the middle of suffocating close combat, the boy had still found a winning path.
No bloodline. No flashy talent.
Just like Jiraiya himself, once.
Sometimes, appreciation needed no logic. It was simply a shift of feeling.
"So… it's fine," Jiraiya said awkwardly. "You don't have to graduate to be my student."
And just like that, it was settled.
He asked for Mayū's name, his background, then cheerfully announced he would visit the Senju residence that evening. His grin, wrinkled and far too pleased, sent a chill down the boy's spine.
Mayū watched him go, then glanced instinctively at Minato.
Blond. Clear-eyed. Good-looking.
A terrible thought crossed his mind.
Surely… surely this man did not choose disciples by appearance.
The idea was absurd. And yet.
Still, Jiraiya was acceptable. More than acceptable. Certainly preferable to other possible mentors. And staying in the Academy while gaining protection under the Hokage's line was a quiet advantage.
After all, being alive mattered more than being brilliant.
Having made peace with it, Mayū scratched his head, put on an innocent smile, and returned to sparring with Minato.
He did not yet know that this moment marked the beginning of a long, troublesome fate.
A ninja's teacher was not like a school instructor.
After graduation, squads formed under a single leader, and that bond often surpassed blood ties. Techniques, experience, even views on life were shaped by that relationship. A teacher could define a ninja's entire path.
That was why Minaki and Mizuho were stunned when Jiraiya appeared at the Senju compound.
Compared to the Senju's fading prominence, this man was unmistakably a pillar of Konoha.
"Ah, it's nothing dramatic," Jiraiya said, rubbing the back of his head. "I came because of your son."
"Our… Mayū?" Minaki asked.
"Right. I've already taken him as my student. He's still at the Academy, so I thought I'd greet his parents first."
Mizuho covered her mouth in surprise. She and Minaki were formidable in their own right, but standing before Jiraiya, the difference was unmistakable.
"Please, come in," she said quickly.
That evening, Jiraiya shared dinner with the Senju family and the two boys. Somewhere between cups and laughter, his gaze lingered thoughtfully on Minato.
Blond hair. Steady eyes. A warmth that drew people in.
Potential was still unclear, but the foundation was there.
After dinner, the three sat in the courtyard, the night air calm.
"I should say this first, Sensei," Mayū said casually, scratching his head. "I'm not like Minato. I don't have natural affinity for water or earth. Actually…"
He grinned, half-expectant, half-mischievous.
"I don't have any chakra nature at all."
"…Is that so?"
Jiraiya stared up at the stars, the smile at the corner of his eye softening instead of fading.
That expression, relaxed and genuine, burned itself into Mayū's memory.
"Well," Jiraiya said warmly, "that makes things interesting."
For the first time in nine years of this life, Senju Mayū felt something settle into place.
As if he had truly begun to live.