Perhaps because he had finally escaped the atmosphere of the battlefield and returned to Konoha, Hagoromo wasted no time—he slept straight through until he woke naturally. That kind of indulgent, no-alarms sleep was something he hadn't enjoyed in a very long time.
By evening, he finally dragged himself out of the house, still wearing a tired expression.
He had already changed out of his mission gear, dressed casually, and stepped outside.
He wandered around for a bit, grabbed something to fill his stomach, and after giving it some thought, decided to head toward the Hokage Tower first.
He wasn't going to see the Hokage—just to report in and submit his mission return documents.
"Shinobi ID 009887, Chūnin Kamishiro Hagoromo, reporting to Konoha and standing by."
After handing in the paperwork and signing his name in the appropriate registry, his official business was done. As for when he'd receive his next assignment—that would depend entirely on organizational arrangements.
What he would do next was actually a bit of a problem.
First, there was no chance he'd be heading to the battlefield with Kushina again. Until the Great Ninja War ended, she probably wouldn't be leaving Konoha at all.
Second, he couldn't just stay in the village like he had months ago, studying ninjutsu while doing low-level missions. He had already proven his value on the battlefield—sooner or later, he would be sent back out.
After finishing his registration, Hagoromo realized something rather depressing.
Even though he was back in Konoha, he still didn't really have anywhere to go.
Go home?
Fine—but the place was empty.
After a moment's thought, he decided to check on Kushina instead. Who knew—maybe his dear teacher was still in a perpetual state of frustration?
Leaving the Hokage Tower, the sky gradually darkened. He wasn't pressed for time, so he strolled along casually in Kushina's general direction.
Well—he had a destination, but his route was completely random.
Before he realized it, he had wandered into Konoha's hot spring district.
Perhaps because the joy of victory still lingered after the war, the lanterns were already lit even though it wasn't fully dark yet.
There were plenty of people on the streets.
Unfortunately for Hagoromo—
He didn't recognize a single one of them.
…Wait. Not a single familiar face?
The thought had barely crossed his mind when he spotted someone he did know.
Strictly speaking, they had never met. The other person certainly didn't know him—but Hagoromo knew who he was.
As a ninja, certain habits were ingrained to the bone. When walking down a street, ninja instinctively avoided the densest crowds and preferred slightly more open areas.
Their vision was no different from civilians', but they habitually paid attention to certain details—
Buildings that could hide people.
Unusual high or low points.
The position of passersby's hands.
Their gait, posture, clothing, rhythm of movement…
In short, most ninja lived with a constant undercurrent of tension—as if someone might leap out at any moment, wielding two cleavers and aiming for their head.
Hagoromo wasn't that jumpy. Compared to other places, he considered Konoha the safest location imaginable. When he was in the village, his guard was at its lowest.
For example, he hadn't even brought any ninja tools with him today.
Still, he was a ninja. The habits were there. The places that needed attention still drew his eyes.
A shallow river ran straight through Konoha's hot spring district—more accurately, the district was built along both banks of the river.
And that was when Hagoromo noticed it.
On the opposite bank, in the dense canopy of a tree—thick enough to easily conceal a person—was a white-haired man.
Given Hagoromo's current lack of motivation, this wasn't something he deliberately searched for. It was pure instinct.
And honestly, the guy hiding there wasn't even trying very hard.
Once he noticed him, Hagoromo immediately changed direction and stepped onto a wooden bridge connecting the two banks.
Standing at the highest point in the middle of the bridge, he became absolutely certain he hadn't mistaken the figure.
Tall build.
Long white hair draped down his back.
Frontline-style ninja attire.
That bold presence.
That utterly shameless behavior.
Who else could it be?
Jiraiya of Mount Myōboku—one of the Legendary Sannin, the "touch of yellow" among the three.
Jiraiya had his back turned, so Hagoromo couldn't see his face. Even so, he recognized him instantly.
But that raised a question.
Wasn't Jiraiya the frontline commander on the Konoha–Kumogakure front? With all nations adjusting their strategies, shouldn't he be glued to the battlefield, closely monitoring enemy movements?
Why was he back in Konoha?
Dereliction of duty?
Impossible.
"Could it be because…?"
A reason quickly came to mind.
Was it because Tsunade had left Konoha that Jiraiya had returned?
That guess made some sense—but not entirely. If it were only about Tsunade, the Hokage wouldn't have specifically recalled him.
As Hagoromo knew well, the frontlines were critically important right now.
Still, Hagoromo knew quite a bit about Jiraiya—both from memories of another life and from what he'd heard in this one.
For example, right now—
Even without knowing how long Jiraiya had been back, Hagoromo was willing to bet that the moment he returned to Konoha, he'd headed straight for the hot spring district to "gather material."
Thankfully, Konoha didn't have a red-light district. Otherwise, this probably wouldn't have been Jiraiya's first stop.
Yes—being called the Pervy Sage was absolutely justified.
At the moment, Jiraiya was hiding in a particularly (very) shameless manner.
No need to guess—the second floor opposite him was clearly the women's bath.
And not only that.
He was fully equipped.
Wasn't that a pair of binoculars in his hand?
Hagoromo could easily imagine the blissful expression on Jiraiya's face right now.
Still, for the sake of preserving the glorious image and reputation of the Legendary Sannin, Hagoromo felt it was his duty to put a stop to this behavior.
This was the responsibility and obligation of every Konoha ninja.
So, standing at the center of the bridge, he took a deep breath, loosened his vocal cords, cupped his hands around his mouth—and shouted toward the opposite bank:
"There's someone hiding in a tree peeping into the women's bath!"
That had to be at least 120 decibels.
After shouting, he didn't bother checking whether Jiraiya had fallen out of the tree. Amid the shrieks and screams erupting from the women's bath, Hagoromo calmly turned around and merged into the crowd.
A master of anonymity.
Ladies, there was no need to thank him.
He was just a tiny, insignificant good person.
No fame.
No reward.
Life was about being a good person—
And doing good deeds.
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