Tatsuma had no idea exactly how much drinking and "negotiating" Jiraiya had done the night before, but when he woke up and stepped outside, he found that Murata Yuko seemed to have regained a glimmer of light in her eyes. The heavy, death-seeking gloom of someone who had fulfilled their last wish was gone.
As for Naka Noboru and his crew, they had already been taken away by ninjas from Takigakure and magistrates from the surrounding towns. What Tatsuma had anticipated as a bureaucratic nightmare of paperwork and handovers, Jiraiya had somehow resolved in a single night.
Watching the Takigakure Jonin escort Naka away, Minato turned to Jiraiya and asked, "Jiraiya-sensei, if Takigakure could send Jonin here to collect him, why did they need us to handle the mission in the first place?"
"Because this is the Land of Fire," Jiraiya said with a sigh. "Even if they could have captured him sooner, they weren't allowed to strike."
He paused, looking at the distant horizon. "If Konoha ninjas handle it, even if it takes longer, the only ones suffering are the civilians—people the Daimyo doesn't personally keep track of. But if ninjas from Takigakure were to operate here, even if they reduced civilian casualties, the Daimyo would never agree. Because in his eyes, what's being damaged isn't people, but something far more valuable: the prestige of a Great Power."
Minato still looked a bit confused, but Tatsuma remained silent. He understood perfectly.
Was this worldview right? Tatsuma didn't know how to judge it. A nation's sovereignty required such clinical calculations to maintain. Even if civilians were harmed, it was viewed as a short-term, localized sacrifice. If they set a precedent of letting foreign ninjas police their borders, the Land of Fire's sovereignty would be trampled. Konoha's reputation would suffer, missions would dwindle, and the village's strength would erode.
From a high-altitude perspective, sacrificing a few lives to maintain the dignity of an entire nation seemed like a logical trade. But Tatsuma was standing on the ground. He could see the real, visceral pain of the people who lived there.
Seeing both of his students suddenly lose the joy of completing their first mission, Jiraiya sighed and ruffled their hair. "Alright, that's enough. It's time to head home."
"Lord Jiraiya..."
Yuko Murata spoke up as they prepared to leave. "The village wants to hold a feast to thank you. If you aren't too busy, could you stay for the celebration?"
Jiraiya waved a hand dismissively. "No thanks. We're ninjas, after all. Ninjas don't need flowers or applause. Besides, we got here a little late, and more tragedy happened because of it. I don't exactly have the face to stick around and celebrate."
With that, he dropped his hands onto the napes of Tatsuma and Minato's necks, steering them toward the village exit. Once they were a good distance away, Jiraiya asked, "I just robbed you both of a chance to be praised. Do you mind?"
Minato shook his head. Tatsuma merely shrugged, indicating he didn't care.
Jiraiya nodded in approval. "Ninjas... the thing we should fear most is being weighed down by a reputation. In Konoha, only one ninja truly needs fame. That's the Hokage. If you aren't the Hokage, and you don't intend to become the Hokage, then don't crave it. In fact... don't let even a single drop of it touch you."
Tatsuma fell into deep thought. He finally understood why Jiraiya never introduced himself as one of the "Sannin" of Konoha, but instead preferred "The Toad Sage of Mount Myoboku." Jiraiya didn't want to be Hokage, and he had consciously shed the prestigious title of a Konoha Hero. In the future, when he traveled the world, he would even wear a unique forehead protector with the kanji for "Oil" (油) instead of the leaf symbol.
History seemed to support Jiraiya's warning. In Konoha, ninjas who became famous but didn't take the Hokage seat rarely met good ends.
Sakumo Hatake, the White Fang, committed suicide. Nono Yakushi, the Wandering Miko, was killed by her own people. Shisui Uchiha, Shisui of the Flicker, committed suicide after being betrayed by his superior. Danzō Shimura, the Darkness of the Shinobi, died after sealing a bridge in a desperate final stand.
And who were the ones with legendary titles who survived or died with honor? Hashirama Senju, the God of Shinobi, was the First Hokage. Tobirama Senju, the fastest in the world, was the Second. Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Professor, was the Third.
Later, the Yellow Flash, Minato Namikaze, would be the Fourth. Tsunade, the Legendary Sucker and one of the Sannin, would be the Fifth. Kakashi Hatake, the Copy Ninja, would be the Sixth. Naruto Uzumaki, the Number One Unpredictable Ninja, would be the Seventh.
Beyond them, almost any Konoha ninja with a resounding nickname faced a tragic fate. Even Might Guy, who called himself the "Blue Beast of Konoha," nearly died in his final battle.
Whether it was a cosmic rule or the result of internal political manipulation, Jiraiya was right: unless you were aimed at the top office, fame was a target on your back. In the eyes of many, ninjas were tools. The "Kage" of the village and the Daimyo of the nation were the ones who used those tools. The more dazzling a tool became, the more inconvenient it was to use. And for an inconvenient tool, there were only two options: put it on a pedestal or bury it in the ground.
Jiraiya looked at his two pensive students and sighed inwardly. Why did I start talking about such heavy things with these kids? He forced a bright smile and clapped his hands.
"Let's change the subject! Congratulations! You've completed the first mission of your careers. The pay for this job is fifty thousand Ryo. The village takes a twenty percent commission, and the rest is yours. I didn't really do anything, so you two can keep it all."
Tatsuma raised an eyebrow. Forty thousand Ryo. If he and Minato split it, that was twenty thousand each. That was more than he used to get in six months of village subsidies.
They had only been out for six days. Even with the journey home, it would barely be over a week. At this rate, being a ninja was a goldmine.
But then he did the math. Now that they were Genin, they had to pay their own rent, utilities, and grocery bills. Twenty thousand Ryo would only last about three months. Furthermore, they had traveled light this time—they hadn't bought new tools, explosive tags, or even their own soldier pills; Jiraiya had covered the overhead. If they had to pay for their own supplies next time, that money would be gone in half the time.
The brief surge of joy vanished from Tatsuma's heart instantly. Minato, however, wasn't thinking about the finances. He shook his head.
"No, Jiraiya-sensei. We couldn't have completed this so smoothly without your help." He looked at Tatsuma, and Tatsuma nodded, having no intention of being greedy.
"I agree with Minato," Tatsuma said. "Jiraiya-sensei, take your fair share of the cut."
Jiraiya beamed. He cared about the money even less than they did, but he loved their attitude. He let out a booming laugh. "If you're going to be that insistent, then your teacher will accept! When we get back to the village, I'm taking you out for Yakiniku! Ahahaha!"
"Gulp." *
The sound of two hungry boys swallowing simultaneously echoed in the air. After a week of dry soldier pills, the mere mention of grilled meat was a spiritual revelation.
Tatsuma wiped the corner of his mouth. "Minato, I suddenly have a very strong urge to be back in the village."
"Me too," Minato agreed. "How about we pick up the pace?"
"A race?" Tatsuma challenged.
Minato grinned. "You're on!"
"That's the spirit, Minato! You've still got that much energy after a mission? Just watch out—I'm going to beat you to the gate!"