(One Month Later)
The boy stumbled into a small clearing, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The scene before him stopped him in his tracks. Around a flickering campfire, a group of rough-looking bandits lounged casually, their laughter unfitting with the scene of violence around them. The body's of a merchant and his guards lay in pools of blood, their final moments of terror etched on to their faces.
The boy's breath caught in his throat, his initial shock quickly turning into panic. His eyes, glowing faintly, darted around as he realized the bandits had noticed him. One of them, a burly man with a scar, pointed toward him with malicious glee. "Look at what we've got here!" he roared, alerting the others.
As the bandits began to close in, the boy felt a surge of fear and adrenaline. His legs felt heavy, and he struggled to move, but the image of the bodies around the campfire sparked something within him. Instinctively, he focused on the bloodstains, the remnants of the slain merchant and his guards. With a burst of desperate energy, he willed the blood to move.
The blood, previously pooled and still, began to stir. It rose from the ground in a dark, swirling mass. The boy's eyes flared as he concentrated, the blood forming into sharp, deadly spikes. With a sudden, jerking motion, the spikes shot out, aiming with terrifying precision.
The bandits were caught completely off guard. As they advanced toward the boy, several of them were pierced by the blood spikes that erupted from the ground and walls of the clearing. Screams of shock and pain filled the air as the spikes drove through their backs and sides, their bodies convulsing before they fell to the ground.
The boy stood amidst the chaos, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the blood spikes retracted. The remaining bandits, horrified by the sudden and brutal counterattack, scrambled to get away. Their laughter had turned into frantic shouts as they attempted to retreat from the scene of bloodshed.
"Stay back!" the boy shouted, his voice trembling but filled with a fierce determination. "Get away from me!"
The bandits, now thoroughly frightened by the boy's unexpected and deadly display of power, fled the clearing in a disorganized rush. The boy watched them go, his eyes scanning the area to ensure the immediate threat was over.
----------
The boy, now clothed in the clean, practical garments he'd found among the bandits' belongings, crouched near the lifeless bodies strewn around the clearing. The sight of them no longer disturbed him as much as it had moments ago. His emotions were dulled, replaced by a sharp, focused drive. He looted methodically, searching the fallen bandits and the merchant they had attacked.
The smell of death and blood still clung to the air, but the boy was no longer fazed by it. He rummaged through the merchant's belongings, his small hands moving quickly through the wares, his mind focused on survival. Among the scattered goods, he found a tanto—a weapon light enough for him to wield—and he slid it into his belt. His fingers brushed over the merchant's coin purse, and without hesitation, he stuffed it into his pocket. He moved to one of the dead bandits, unhooking a scroll from the man's belt.
As he bent down to retrieve more, he felt it—that cold, creeping sensation on the back of his neck. It was as if the air around him had shifted, the forest suddenly heavy with a presence that hadn't been there before. His body tensed, instincts screaming a warning he was too slow to act on.
Before he could even think of turning around, a firm hand clamped down on his shoulder.
The boy's heart pounded in his chest, panic surged through him. Without thinking, he reached for the tanto at his belt, his small hand gripping the hilt tightly as he twisted his body and thrust the blade upward toward the man behind him.
But the man was fast—too fast.
In a blur, the man knocked the tanto out of the boy's hand with a single swift movement, the blade clattering to the ground. Startled by the ease with which his weapon was disarmed, the boy's instincts kicked in. He leaped backward, his body tensing as he put distance between himself and the stranger. His eyes were wide, his breath quick and shallow, as he stared at the figure before him.
The man stepped forward, his presence calm but authoritative. His face was partially obscured by the shadows of the trees, but there was no mistaking the strength in his movements. He didn't seem angry or hostile, but his curiosity was palpable.
"What happened here?" the man asked, his voice low but firm, as he glanced at the dead bodies littering the camp—the bandits and the merchant alike.
The boy stood his ground, eyes locked on the stranger, his fists clenched in the empty space where the tanto had been moments ago. He didn't respond. His mind raced, trying to figure out if this man was another enemy, if he was here to kill him like the others. His silence was not just from fear—it was also caution.
The man watched him for a moment, assessing, waiting for an answer. When none came, his gaze sharpened, but he didn't move closer. He simply stood there, giving the boy space.
The boy, now tense and watchful, kept his distance from the man. His mind whirled with questions, but after a few moments of silence, he decided to speak. His voice was steady, though his fear still lingered.
Choosing his words carefully. "I... I stumbled upon this camp," he began, his voice quiet but steady. "There were bandits here. They killed the merchant and his guards before I got here."
He glanced at the bodies around him, the memory of what he'd done still fresh in his mind. But he wasn't about to tell the truth. Not all of it.
"I... I waited until they left," he continued, his eyes shifting away from Jiraiya's sharp gaze. "When it was safe, I came out to see if there was anything I could use."
The man regarded him thoughtfully, his gaze unreadable. He didn't seem to doubt the boy's story, but something in his eyes said he understood there was more to it. He let the boy's explanation hang in the air for a moment before speaking again.
"What's your name, kid?" the man asked, his voice less tense now, more curious.
The boy hesitated briefly. He had no reason to hide his name, but this stranger still unsettled him. After a pause, he answered. "Chihara."
The man nodded, the tension easing as he stepped forward, moving out of the shadows. As he did, Chihara's eyes widened slightly. The man was tall, with wild white hair, a broad forehead protector that bore the symbol of the Hidden Leaf, and markings on his face that gave him an almost mystical air. His red cloak fluttered slightly as he walked, and there was something both calm and powerful about his presence.
"My name is Jiraiya," the man said with a small smile. "Jiraiya, the Toad Sage."
Chihara stood tense, watching as Jiraiya's figure emerged from the shadows, his larger-than-life presence impossible to ignore. The white-haired man scratched the back of his head and let out a soft chuckle.
"Ah, wandering kids, stumbling into trouble.," Jiraiya said, his tone light and almost carefree, though his eyes remained sharp. "But seriously, kid, this is no place to be playing hero." He gestured to the scattered bodies, his tone now slightly teasing, "Looting bandits and merchants? Bold move. I like it, but you're lucky you didn't get yourself sliced in two."
Chihara, still on edge, stayed silent. Jiraiya sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation. "What is it with kids these days? Always so serious." He looked down at Chihara, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "Look, I get it. You're probably thinking 'Who is this handsome, rugged man with perfect hair asking me all these questions?'"
Chihara blinked, not quite sure how to respond. "I—"
Jiraiya waved off whatever Chihara was about to say. "Ah, no need to thank me for the compliment. It's hard being this impressive, but someone's gotta do it."
A brief, awkward silence settled between them, with Jiraiya's grin lingering. Then, in an instant, the mood shifted. His expression became more serious as he knelt down to Chihara's level, looking him straight in the eyes. "But seriously, kid... what happened here?"
Chihara hesitated. He didn't want to reveal too much. "I told you... I found this camp. The bandits—they killed the merchant and his guards, so I hid till they left."
Jiraiya's eyes narrowed, but not in a menacing way. It was more like he was trying to read between the lines of Chihara's story. "Hid, huh?" His voice softened. "You don't look like someone who just hid."
There was a pause before Jiraiya spoke again, and this time his tone was more knowing, almost fatherly. "Look, kid, you don't need to tell me everything right now. I can tell you've been through some stuff. You've got that look in your eyes—one I've seen too many times." He stood up, stretching his arms above his head. "But you're alive, and that's what matters. Tough world out here."
Chihara remained quiet, unsure how to respond. Jiraiya's lightheartedness was disarming, but there was a softness to his words that made Chihara feel relax, if only a tiny bit.
"So, Chihara," Jiraiya said, his tone shifting again as he adopted a more casual stance. "What's the plan? Wander through this dangerous forest with nothing but a tanto and those quick feet of yours?" He smirked. "I've got some experience with taking care of promising young talent, y'know. Ever heard of the Toad Sage?"
Chihara nodded, eyes widening slightly. The name wasn't unfamiliar—he'd heard whispers of it, legends of the Sannin who could summon massive toads.
Jiraiya grinned, clearly pleased with the recognition. "Ah, good. Saves me a long introduction. I don't suppose you'd be interested in sticking with an old guy like me for a bit, huh? I might be able to help you out—keep you from running into any more trouble." He winked, leaning in closer with a grin. "Plus, I know a few tricks you won't find in any books."
Chihara stayed silent for a moment, processing everything. His heart was set on getting revenge alone, on finding a way to make those Shinobi pay. But maybe... just maybe, this strange man could help him.
Jiraiya stretched lazily and began to walk toward the edge of the clearing, calling back over his shoulder, "I'm heading out. Feel free to tag along if you want. I promise I'm more fun than I look."
Chihara blinked. More fun? He quickly realized Jiraiya had made up his mind—he was giving him a choice, but deep down, it felt like the offer was genuine. Hesitantly, Chihara took a step forward.
Jiraiya grinned, though he didn't turn around. "Knew you'd come around, kid. Let's get out of this mess."