"Don't play dumb, kid."
Jiraiya cut him off, his eyes sharp as blades.
"Your eyes say otherwise. Tell me the truth, Naruto Uzumaki."
"My real opinion..."
The smile on Naruto's face slowly faded, replaced by an icy calm.
"My view on power hasn't changed: power exists to protect comrades and those in need."
"As for the Will of Fire you speak of..."
Instead of answering directly, he pulled Karin out from behind him.
With gentle movements, he rolled up her sleeve.
On her slender arm, bite marks lay layer upon layer, old wounds overlapping new ones.
They looked shocking under the sunlight.
Sakura covered her mouth with a gasp; Sasuke's pupils contracted.
Naruto's voice was soft and cold:
"You mean... for the sake of so-called diplomatic interests,"
"we stand by and watch the descendants of former allies being treated as expendables?"
Jiraiya was stunned.
As a veteran who had wandered the ninja world for years, he knew exactly what those scars meant.
He opened his mouth,
but the grand principles he had prepared were now stuck in his throat, rendering him voiceless.
Naruto gave him no chance to breathe, pressing on:
"You were peeking just now, weren't you? That violates the ninja code."
"But you're one of the Sannin, so you call it 'research' and laugh it off."
"Who could stop you? Who would dare?"
Naruto spread his hands, a mocking curve on his lips:
"See? Even a legendary Sannin tramples the rules at will, and you ask me what I think of them?"
"Rules only bind the powerless;"
"the Will of Fire only moves the cannon fodder marked for sacrifice."
"In short, it's nothing but a lie woven by the strong to keep the weak in line."
Boom.
The words struck Jiraiya's heart like a hammer.
He wanted to retort, to denounce it as a fallacy,
but looking at Karin's arm and his own absurd behavior moments ago,
every excuse felt hollow.
Silence fell.
In the next instant, Naruto was the polite youth again,
as if the sharp-tongued figure had never existed.
"Sorry, I got carried away and said too much."
He adjusted his glasses, his gentle demeanor restored:
"Let's go, Karin."
"Wait."
Jiraiya sighed, pulled a scroll from his robe, and tossed it to Naruto.
"...The Uzumaki Clan's Sealing Technique you wanted—take it."
Naruto caught the scroll steadily, stowed it away, and bowed respectfully:
"Thank you, Lord Jiraiya."
Polite, yet distant.
Then, without looking back, he left with Karin.
Jiraiya sat beneath the shade, watching Naruto's back with a bitter, self-mocking smile:
"Minato... your child didn't grow into what you hoped."
A deep self-reproach flashed in Jiraiya's eyes:
"...It's my fault. I failed to guide him properly when he was young."
Just then, light footsteps sounded.
A silver-haired, languid figure stepped out from behind a tree, his eyes complicated as he watched Naruto depart.
"Kakashi, huh..."
Jiraiya didn't turn; he seemed unsurprised.
"I'm truly sorry, Lord Jiraiya."
Kakashi sighed and lowered his head slightly:
"He probably won't listen to your teachings right now. Leave the rest to me."
Jiraiya was silent for a moment, then waved a hand.
"Fine."
He stood up and dusted off his clothes, a trace of loneliness in his eyes:
"Perhaps... a failure like me really isn't cut out to teach disciples."
Kakashi gave Jiraiya a long look, then vanished with a Body Flicker.
Near the hot spring,
only a self-reproaching Jiraiya, a bewildered Sakura... and Sasuke, who had stood rigid since earlier, as though his soul had been drained, remained.
"Sasuke-kun..."
Sakura stepped forward in worry, seeing his trembling frame.
"Go back."
Sasuke's voice was soft, devoid of emotion.
"But you're—"
"I said, go back!"
He jerked his head aside; his unfocused eyes held only emptiness.
Sakura was startled.
She bit her lip, her eyes reddening.
Finally, she lowered her head and left.
With her departure, the place fell utterly silent.
Jiraiya composed himself and hoisted the massive scroll onto his back again.
Today had been a wretched day—he had been left speechless after being lectured by a kid.
All he wanted now was to find an izakaya and drink himself senseless.
Jiraiya didn't even glance at Sasuke as he turned to leave.
He'd never had much liking for Uchiha brats,
and this one's performance moments ago had been downright pathetic.
"...Hey."
A hoarse call came from behind.
Jiraiya kept walking without looking back.
"Don't bother me, kid."
"I'm in a foul mood—no time to play ninja games with you."
"Are you stronger than Orochimaru?"
Jiraiya's steps froze.
It wasn't the question itself, but the way Sasuke asked it.
It was like a drowning man clutching at a straw—
a desperate plea for proof.
Jiraiya turned around.
Sasuke stood there, his fists clenched so tight they wrung the fabric of his pants.
His head hung low; his face was hidden, but his body trembled.
"Who knows?"
Jiraiya said flatly.
"Maybe we're evenly matched, maybe I'm weaker—maybe I'm stronger."
"What's the point of asking?"
"It matters..."
Sasuke's voice shook as he jerked his head up.
For the first time, Jiraiya saw his eyes.
The proud Sharingan was now filled with self-loathing.
"When Naruto faced Orochimaru, he formed hand signs, planned tactics—he even dared to strike first."
Sasuke ground out each word through clenched teeth:
"But I... I couldn't even move."
"I just stared at his back, trembling like trash."
He took a few stumbling steps toward Jiraiya.
"That guy—he's already gone where I can't see."
"If I can't even catch up to him, how will I kill that man? How will I avenge my clan?"
For a proud Uchiha, admitting inferiority felt worse than death.
Yet here he was, tearing open his raw wounds for a stranger.
"You're one of the legendary Sannin."
Sasuke's eyes bored into Jiraiya,
tears brimming but refusing to fall.
"Naruto doesn't need your guidance—he's strong enough to refuse you."
"But I do."
He drew a shaky breath—and dropped to his knees.
The proud Uchiha boy
knelt in the dirt, his forehead pressed to the ground.
"Please... give me power."
"Any price, any pain—whatever it takes to close this gap, I'll do it."
Jiraiya gazed at the boy prostrated before him.
He saw no cold, flawless genius like Orochimaru—
only an awkward, hurting kid desperate to grasp something.
It reminded him of himself—
the one who had always trailed behind Orochimaru, no matter how hard he tried.
"A perfect raw gem like Naruto no longer needs my polishing."
"But this cracked Uchiha, ready to shatter at any moment..."
The coldness in Jiraiya's eyes faded into something complex.
Perhaps this was fate's cruel joke.
He exhaled slowly, ruffling his spiky white hair.
"Stand up, kid."
Sasuke rose, his knees caked with dirt, his eyes still uncertain.
"Don't get me wrong—I don't like your gloomy stare or the Uchiha arrogance."
Jiraiya turned his back to him, his voice drifting on the wind.
"But I'd hate to let that Naruto brat get too full of himself."
He glanced over his shoulder, a bold grin tugging at his lips.
"If you're set on chasing him, then brace yourself."
"As the dead last left behind by geniuses, we'll need ten times the effort to make those bastards blink."
Sasuke blinked.
"We...?"
"That's right—keep up."
Jiraiya strode off, waving a broad hand without looking back.
"Don't die on the way, Uchiha kid."
Sasuke stared after the tall figure,
then scrubbed his eyes and hurried to follow.