( JIRAYA )
The land of the mist is aptly named. I sighed briefly to myself, watching once more the dreary place that surrounded me.
The trees looked almost sick by the lack of proper sunlight, fungi were everywhere, the ground was always wet, fucking with my hearing, even the mist seemed to creep to a standstill only to capture sounds more effectively.
As for my sight, bah! Light didn't travel beyond a dozen meters on a windy, sunny day. Where I was staying was night, and there wasn't a lick of wind.
I was sitting on a tree stump, my campfire merrily dancing in front if my eyes. I had brought out a kettle from a storage scroll, and was busy writing the third chapter of my next masterpiece.
Tea in the elemental nations, at least the one coming from Cha no Kuni, was unique. There were several blands and melanges, and each one of them could be used as an opportune opening.
Mikoto poured the tea with a grace and expertise that should be beyond the grasp of such a young woman: "Raya-sama, your green tea is ready, do you have other requests?"
The proud Raya gave a earthly chuckle at the innocent question, his strong hand slowly caressing the cheek of the petite beauty. Many men only wish for plump lovers, with wide hips and breast like hills. Fools, I say! For every woman is a spectacle of Nature! Thought the gallant Raya.
"My dear, I only choose green tea because I cannot drink the emerald in your eyes! You wonder what else I can desire, let me answer: your company would be the sweetest thing to drink!"
I finished the introduction as fast as I could, I had neither the patience nor the inclination to pussyfoot around! My pen started whirlwinding over the otherwise blank book, precise characters filling one page after another.
I let my mind relax, the words finding their wsy on the page with barely an imput from me. With my free hand, I slipped a gulp of tea, naturally I recognized some of the herbs, but clearly there was some otherworldly deity at work during the production, since the flavour it left behind hovering on my palate was beyond what I could have hoped to taste in my situation.
Maybe unsurprisingly, it gave me hope for the world. It meant that someone used some application of chakra to realize something which wasn't made to kill.
Immediately, and not for the first time, I felt the wish to travel over to Cha no Kuni and find out for myself how they did it.
Chakra was extremely dangerous, could be taught only to the young, and with its power, it naturally became primarly used for war. It was refreshing and saddening, that sonething capable of such marvels was applied only to dealing death.
But then again, men live and die roaming between Love and War. I shook my head sadly.
"Hey! That's quite catching! Men die roaming between Love and War." I repeated out loud, tasting its sound rolling off my tongue.
The Elemental nations trades all whirled around warfare, not only because a nation not supporting its hidden village caused its ninja to steal what was needed from the defence-less, but also because the very first thing one thought about when hearing about chakra was its military application.
It's always been like that. I reminded myself. Reminiscing over a past that could have been is pointless.
And I couldn't fault the reasoning, in a world where anyone could kill you in 143 different ways using a leaf, the first concern of any sensivle person would be learning 144 ways to do the same, just to be able to protect my own.
And yet, it didn't take a genius to figure out that an half proficient doton user could plow dozens of fields in a single hour.
Hell, someone actually trained with doton could actually build a house. Katon in Suna could provide glass, and that was without thinking about what a shinobi could do as a blacksmith.
Superior reflexes, inhuman strenght and stamina, the control over fire ... Aaand I'm thinking about forging swords, which exist to kill. I realized, stopping myself.
"This world needs dreamers..." I sighed, looking at the grey, clouded sky. Well, it wasn't correct, everything was grey-ish. The mist was so thick it actually dampened sound. Given my Katon affinity, I could complain, and I would, once back to the village.
While not comparable to my sensing as a Sage, everything that came 20 meters around me would give away its presence through one way or another, like a stone falling into a puddle.
I may not have been a sensor, but even without sage mode, I picked up more than a single trick during my career.
I drank my tea, thinking about the other great question that had left both me and sensei grasping for straws: Daiki. Guy's student, always been of a sneaky kind, put in a team to act as a main responsible for subterfuge, that ranged from infiltration to psychological warfare.
"What a mess." I murmured to myself: the greenhorn had actually pulled off Sage Mode, and perfectly, at least looking at his claims and at what he had managed.
Sure, he had been in Sage Mode hovering over his students since the Second Stage, but that with it he couldn't cleanly win against Orochimaru? It smelled fishy.
I was the very first to recognize the kind of bullshit trump card that Sage Mode was, and I had access to an imperfect version of it, with that, I was pretty sure that I could take on my old teammate ... then why didn't the kid manage to get out of it alive?
Given the lack of movements and tracks of every kind, Orochimaru had officially been declared dead, even if the Hunter Nin roaming the Land of Fire were informed that it could be a ruse.
The kid set up his own death, albeit taking with him one of the biggest thorns in our sides.
I thought again about it, not agreeing with the think tank and the higher-ups of the Village had always been his thing, and given the amount of information that he had discovered during the years that contradicted what he had been guarantee as truth made him less than amenable to simply drop the matter.
Jiraya, the Gallant Jiraya, Toad Sage and teacher of the Fourth Hokage Jiraya, frowned thoughtfully.
His yurt had some minor seals in the walls ... I remembered with grudging respect, it was clear that the design hadn't been his, it hadn't felt personal enough for that, but that he managed to pull them off indicates a level of dedication that is ... uncommon.
But that is the crux of the matter isn't it? His file pinned him as an eccentric, his ghost company to deal with the publications of his books, in particular, proved it. But from them to flight risk? Unneeded paranoia killed as much as an unwarranted one.
I read some of his works, for all the sense that they made. He had written defending a position, then another, first in simple lines, then as poetry that sounded frankly horrible. His works lacked the beauty that Jiraya poured in his novels.
In the Toad Sage's mind, it was pretty clear that he hadn't been the one to write them, at least not them all, and that every idea in his books had been born directly from the greenhorn was ... risible, impossible, offensive. He still hadn't decided which.
Writing something, from a story to a treatise, brought you to pour part of yourself in the words, it was that that, in the Gallant Jiraya's opinion, made art true and beautiful.
I need to stop thinking of myself in third person when I think about other artists. I reprimanded myself.
Thinking again about some of the House Of The Rising Sun' publications, I shook my head minutely, while they lacked Beauty, it couldn't be said that they weren't be sold like pregnancy tests after an orgy in one of my most successful books.
I sighed again. Naruto hardly seems the type to flourish with fuinjutsu. A pity. I closed my eyes, tasting my tea while considering the boy. He would become S-rank given enough time, there was no doubt about it.
Between whatever Minato did to use the Kyūbi's chakra to constantly replenish and enlarge his coils, his Uzumaki vitality, and the reported headstrong nature, all he had to do was survive long enough.
I moved my gaze in the direction of something that disturbed my senses, and a fraction of a second later, three kiri shinobi emerged from the mist. Time to make friends.
...
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