I glanced back toward the tavern, toward the noise and warmth and carefully cultivated ignorance. For a fleeting moment, I considered staying just a little longer. Finishing the drink and pretending I hadn't seen the message yet.
The thought didn't even make it to the end.
I adjusted my coat, the familiar weight settling over my shoulders like an old responsibility I'd hoped to forget.
"Well," he muttered to himself, voice stripped of humour, "guess the world decided that even I, The Gallant Jiraiya, shall not yet rest."
I stepped back into the street, already moving, already calculating routes and timing. The Third Shinobi War was still roaring on somewhere behind me as I turned towards home.
But for the first time that night, I knew with absolute certainty that the most important battle wasn't on any map.
By the time I arrived, the Sun had risen anew over the Hidden Leaf Village.
I knocked on the window of the Hokage's office, like I always do, sliding it open as I do. skipping the winding corridors of the Hokage building altogether.
Sunlight cuts across the polished floor in neat lines, catching dust I don't remember being there. Mission scrolls are stacked with their usual, irritating presence. The room smells like ink and old wood, like history.
Hiruzen sits behind the desk, hands tucked into his sleeves, eyes already on me.
"You only summon me this early when something's complicated," I mutter, scratching the back of my head, looking to Minato as my feet hit the floor. "How's the kid?"
Minato doesn't smile.
That stops me more effectively than any lecture ever has.
He crosses the room and shuts the window behind me, carefully, like he needs the sound to be contained. That bad, huh?
"She was born with chakra beyond anything I've ever sensed in a child," Minato says, turning back to face us.
His voice, steady. That might be the worst part. "I'm worried she won't survive the month."
I feel my posture straighten before I consciously decide to stop slouching.
"How bad is it?" I ask.
"Her pathways are under constant strain," he replies. "Emotional spikes trigger surges. If we suppress her output too aggressively, we risk damaging her chakra coils permanently."
"And if you don't?" I ask.
He doesn't look at me.
"She may tear herself apart."
The words hang there. Heavy. A not Finality to them.
"And the Nine-Tails?" Hiruzen asks.
Minato hesitates. Something that only serves to worry me as well.
"It raged during the weakening of the seal," he says slowly. "But after she was born… nothing."
That gets Hiruzen's attention, his eyes narrowing just a fraction.
"There was a reaction," Minato adds. "After Kushina finished giving birth. But it wasn't aggressive."
Hiruzen exhales through his nose. "This must be contained. No rumours."
I shoot him a look. One he ignores.
I could see Minato's hand at his side, clenching just briefly, stopping himself from saying anything. I don't blame him either. Hearing his newborn daughter being spoken about like a problem. Like we were going to try and sweep her under the rug.
"We proceed carefully," Hiruzen continues. "Cautious monitoring. No hasty sealing. And no word beyond this room to anyone who doesn't need to know."
I sigh, long and theatrical, because it's easier than saying what I'm actually thinking.
"Guess I'm postponing my research trip."