A mere three days had passed since Tatsuma concluded his lunch and meticulously organized his living space. The tranquility of his room, however, was abruptly disrupted as the window adjacent to his bed swung open with unexpected force. In a display of agile prowess, a shadowy figure gracefully vaulted into Tatsuma's house. Unfortunately, the intruder's entrance was not flawless, as a brief stumble on the modest rug beneath the bed culminated in an undignified sprawl across the neatly arranged sheets.
"Who dares trespass?"
Caught off guard while attending to the final details of his room's cleanliness, Tatsuma shifted his attention swiftly. A white-haired man, face obscured, executed a series of stealthy movements. Despite the unexpected intrusion, Tatsuma couldn't suppress a wry smirk.
Meanwhile, Jiraiya, currently reclined on Tatsuma's bed, could barely contain his chagrin at his own folly. Despite years of ninja experience and a plethora of successful infiltration missions, he found himself floundering in a child's room.
"I'm invisible, you can't see me, you can't see me, you can't see me," Jiraiya muttered, almost like a desperate mantra. Tatsuma, with an eye roll, played along, saying, "Who are you? You've actually invaded my room, come out quickly!"
Tatsuma's unexpected cooperation momentarily threw Jiraiya off guard. Given his size sprawled across the bed, Tatsuma couldn't possibly miss him. The only plausible explanation was that Tatsuma was graciously "saving his face"!
Contemplating this, Jiraiya felt a sudden surge of emotion. Swiftly dismounting Tatsuma's bed, he executed a Body Flicker Jutsu, effortlessly perching on the windowsill with casual finesse.
"Kid, I didn't anticipate you spotting me so quickly. Your vigilance is truly commendable!"
"Jiraiya-sama?!"
Tatsuma displayed a "shocked" expression, the garbage bag in his hand meeting the ground with a resounding thud. Fortunately, the robust bag held firm, preventing any spillage.
Observing Tatsuma's theatrics, Jiraiya couldn't help but sport a few bemused lines on his face. "Alright, brat, your dramatic flair wouldn't even qualify you for a role as an extra, let alone a ninja. You've got a long road ahead in honing those acting skills."
Having spoken, Jiraiya cast a discerning eye across Tatsuma's room. It bore a striking resemblance to the apartments allocated to other war orphans – a confluence of living space, dining area, kitchen, and bedroom, accompanied by a modest study space.
While the room didn't boast an abundance of possessions, everything occupied its designated place, contributing to an overall aura of impeccable neatness. Despite the slight disarray caused by Jiraiya on the bed, the room could almost be deemed a paragon of order.
"Kid, I didn't expect your place to be this tidy. It's different from what I had in mind."
"Different from what you imagined? You should say it's different from your place."
Tatsuma lifted the garbage bag and gave a nonchalant shrug. Jiraiya's expression darkened slightly; he indeed had a penchant for overlooking cleanliness. The recollection of three days ago surfaced—this kid had woken up, and the first utterance was a complaint. The memory only served to heighten Jiraiya's irritation.
'After the next mission, I'll definitely hire a cleaner to tidy things up!'
Jiraiya resolved internally, then absentmindedly scratched his head, chuckling, "Ahaha~ Everyone's got their own way of living. I'm usually too busy, no time to tidy up."
Upon hearing this, Tatsuma maintained a neutral stance. To him, sustaining home cleanliness was a daily practice with the highest cost-effectiveness. Devoting a mere ten to twenty minutes each day sufficed. However, negligence over time could escalate the task to several hours, with the difficulty and intensity amplifying significantly. At that stage, some might opt to forgo cleaning altogether.
Yet, Tatsuma refrained from passing judgment on Jiraiya's lifestyle. Furthermore, Jiraiya's rationale was quite reasonable – the perpetual busyness of his schedule. If uttered by someone else, such an excuse might seem contrived, but in Jiraiya's case, it held a genuine ring of truth.
After all, in the subsequent years, Jiraiya became renowned as one of the most prolific and top-tier ninjas in the shinobi world. It was noteworthy that Jiraiya had refrained from undertaking any missions for over a decade, primarily due to the Orochimaru incident.
Even after more than ten years had elapsed, Jiraiya maintained a substantial lead in terms of completed missions compared to his peers. With such a stellar track record, if he asserted being busy, there was unequivocally no room for doubt.
"Jiraiya-sama, I'm curious about what brings you to seek me out?" Tatsuma inquired straightforwardly. Jiraiya nodded, carefully descending from the windowsill. Circling the bed, he approached the door of the training room. Upon swinging it open and casting a brief glance, a flicker of disappointment swiftly crossed his face.
This meticulous organization extended to Tatsuma's training room, where even the arrangement of ninja tools displayed a high level of precision. A dedicated area showcased Kunai and Shuriken, each wiped clean and neatly positioned.
Apart from the meticulously organized tools, the room housed textbooks provided by the Academy, with no additional embellishments. Unfortunately, Tatsuma couldn't afford extra resources like Ninjutsu scrolls.
After a brief survey, Jiraiya withdrew two scrolls from his vest and announced, "These are the Ninjutsu scrolls I promised you and Minato. However, I only have one copy, so my suggestion is for each of you to take one, transcribe it, and then exchange them. I'm heading off on a mission, so I won't have the time to explain everything in detail. Coordinate with Minato to discuss how to divide the work; the initial challenges and crucial points are similar anyway."
"When do you expect to return? I'll make sure to return these scrolls after transcribing them."
Approaching Jiraiya, Tatsuma accepted the two Ninjutsu scrolls handed over to him. Jiraiya scratched his head and replied, "I'm not certain. There's a chance I might not return at all."
"Please refrain from saying things like that. A formidable ninja like you, what mission could pose such a challenge for you?"
Tatsuma shook his head, expressing sincerity. Beyond being aware of the plot, he had spent the last six months cultivating a mindset that genuinely appreciated and complimented others whenever possible.
Of course, Tatsuma harbored sincere hopes for Jiraiya's safety. Jiraiya responded with a smile, playfully tousling Tatsuma's head and further dishevelling his already unruly hair. With a light chuckle, he remarked,
"I appreciate your good wishes. Make sure to study hard. When I find a chance to return to the village, I'll be checking in on yours and Minato's progress. No clinging to my Ninjutsu scrolls and leading a laid-back life, alright?"
"I understand, Jiraiya-sama. I'll devote myself to studying your Ninjutsu diligently."
Tatsuma nodded. Ninjutsu and Genjutsu were already his major weak points, and in the past, he had no opportunity to learn them. With Jiraiya generously providing him with two Ninjutsu scrolls, there was no reason for Tatsuma to slack off.
Jiraiya gazed out of the window and announced, "It's about time. I should get going."
"Please opt for the door on your way out."
Tatsuma observed as Jiraiya made his way toward the window. With a tinge of resignation, he commented, "Using the door is the mark of a proper ninja."
Jiraiya waved his hand dismissively, retorting, "Using the door is for ordinary ninjas."
Having made his statement, he vaulted out of the window, swiftly disappearing from Tatsuma's line of sight with a series of agile jumps. Tatsuma, feeling a sense of resignation, closed the window, straightened the bed, and descended the stairs with the two scrolls and the garbage bag.
After disposing of the trash, Tatsuma made his way directly to Minato's house.
"Knock, knock, knock."
"Minato, have you rested enough during lunch today?"
Tatsuma's usual boisterous inquiry echoed, seemingly intended to goad Minato into some form of challenge.
Minato, comfortably situated inside the house, had grown accustomed to these exchanges, responding casually, "Come in."
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