(Six Months Later)
The sun hung low in the sky as Jiraiya and Chihara made their way along the dirt path, the sprawling forests of the Land of Fire surrounding them. Over the past half a year, the two had traveled far, with Jiraiya taking the young boy under his wing. Chihara, now more accustomed to life on the road, had grown stronger—physically and mentally. Under Jiraiya's guidance, he hadn't really learned much, only a little about survival and the shinobi world.
As Jiraiya and Chihara walked, Jiraiya couldn't help but reflect on what he had witnessed over the past six months. The boy had raw talent, and not just any ordinary talent—something far more dangerous and powerful than Jiraiya had anticipated when he first found him among the bodies of bandits and merchants. It was Chihara's eyes, those blood-red eyes with a terrifying ability that still gave Jiraiya pause.
Chihara had shown him the secret he had been hiding only a few weeks into their journey. They had been ambushed by bandit's on the outskirts of a small village. Although they posed no threat to the Sannin, he let Chihara fight them off, and when his back was against the wall, those eyes had flared to life. Jiraiya had seen it—the blood around them moved at Chihara's will, forming deadly spikes and chains that shredded the attackers before they could even react.
The Ketsuryūgan. Though Chihara hadn't known the name, Jiraiya had. The infamous bloodline ability was thought to be extinct, but here it was, alive in this boy.
He glanced down at Chihara, remembering the look in the boy's eyes when he had unleashed his abilities. The rage, the fear—emotions that could drive him to dangerous places if left unchecked.
"Y'know, kid," Jiraiya said, breaking the silence as they walked, "you've come a long way. You're tough, quick on your feet, and you've got a sharp mind." He glanced down at Chihara again, who was now slightly taller and more confident than when they had first met, though his eyes still held a darkness he couldn't get him to open up about. "But... there's something you're still missing."
Chihara looked up at him. "What's that?"
Jiraiya smiled, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. "Discipline. Structure. You've learned a bit on the road with me, but there are things even I can't teach you out here. The basics, the foundation every good shinobi needs—you're going to need that if you want to go any further."
Chihara stayed silent, waiting for Jiraiya to continue.
"That's why," Jiraiya said, his grin returning as they crested a hill, "We're heading to Konoha."
Chihara's eyes widened slightly. "Konoha?"
"Yup," Jiraiya nodded. "The Hidden Leaf Village. I think it's time you experienced the academy. It'll give you the formal training and structure that you need, and you'll get to see how other kids your age are learning to be shinobi."
Chihara frowned slightly. The idea of sitting in a classroom, surrounded by other kids, felt strange after months of traveling alone with Jiraiya. "I'm not sure if I belong in an academy," Chihara muttered.
Jiraiya laughed, patting him on the back. "Trust me, you'll be fine. You've already survived more than most of the kids there. And who knows, you might even make a few friends. Besides, Konoha's not a bad place to live."
Chihara's thoughts churned with uncertainty. He had been traveling with Jiraiya for months, but entering a village, especially one as prominent as Konoha, made him uneasy. He wasn't from the Hidden Leaf—he was an outsider. And despite Jiraiya's reassurances, the question had been gnawing at him ever since the Toad Sage suggested the academy.
"Jiraiya," Chihara began, his voice quieter than usual, "do you really think Konoha will let someone like me into their academy?"
Jiraiya turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'someone like you'? You're more than capable of handling yourself. Hell, after what you've been through, the academy's going to be a walk in the park."
Chihara frowned, shaking his head. "That's not what I mean. I'm not from Konoha. I'm an outsider. Won't they see me as a risk or something? Why would they even let me train there?"
Jiraiya let out a thoughtful hum, crossing his arms behind his head as he walked. "You're right to be cautious. But here's the thing, kid. I've been around long enough that my word holds weight, and I vouch for you. Plus, it's not like you're the first non-Konoha shinobi to train here. The village values potential, and you've got plenty of that."
Chihara looked ahead, the massive gates looming larger as they approached. "But what if they still don't trust me? What if they find out about... my eyes?"
Jiraiya's expression darkened momentarily, but he quickly recovered, giving Chihara a reassuring smile. "That's why you've got me, kid. I've already thought about that. We don't have to go broadcasting your abilities to everyone, and besides, Konoha has its share of shinobi with unique powers. They know how to handle it."
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As Jiraiya and Chihara approached the massive gates of Konoha, two shinobi guards, both wearing the familiar Konoha headbands, stood watch. Their eyes immediately locked onto Jiraiya as the towering man approached with Chihara by his side.
"Halt!" one of the guards called out, though his tone quickly softened when he recognized the man approaching. "Oh... it's you, Jiraiya-sama." His eyes shifted to the boy at Jiraiya's side. "Who's the kid?"
Jiraiya grinned, waving a hand lazily. "Relax, fellas. This here's my student—Chihara. We're just heading to the Hokage's office to discuss a little business. No need to get all formal on me."
The guards exchanged glances but nodded respectfully. "Of course, Jiraiya-sama. Go right ahead."
{Chihara POV}
Walking through Konoha felt... strange. Everything was so loud, so full of life. I wasn't used to it. The people, the kids laughing and playing, moving like they didn't have a care in the world—it was different from where I'd lived. Jiraiya said it was the safest place around, but I didn't know if I believed that yet.
My eyes wandered, but I tried not to stare too much. The buildings were bigger than what I'd seen before, and there were so many people everywhere. I couldn't help but look up at the giant faces on the Hokage Mountain. Those carved faces... they were just there, watching over everything. The Hokage must have been strong to get their faces put up like that.
I tugged at the scarf around my neck, the one my mother gave me, still wondering if this place had anything to do with me.
"What do you think of the village?" Jiraiya asked, glancing down at me with a smile.
"It's big," I said softly, almost unsure how to answer. "And loud."
Jiraiya let out a laugh. "You'll get used to it. Konoha's full of life, but you'll see it's the safest place there is. Hmm let's grab some food. I know just the spot."
I followed him through the busy streets, my eyes catching little things here and there—a group of kids training with kunai, an old woman selling herbs, a shinobi with a huge scroll strapped to his back. There was so much happening all at once. I couldn't say it excited me, but it didn't scare me either. It was just... different.
Jiraiya stopped in front of a small shop, and a delicious smell hit me all at once. I blinked, a little surprised by how strong it was. The sign above the door said "Ichiraku Ramen." Jiraiya turned to me, grinning. "Trust me, kid, you're gonna love this."
I didn't say anything, but the smell wasn't bad. He led me inside, and the warmth of the place was kind of nice after being outside for so long. There were only a few stools lined up at the counter, and a man behind it smiled when he saw us.
"Jiraiya-sama! It's been a while," the man said. "What can I get for you?"
"Two bowls of miso ramen," Jiraiya said, clapping me on the back. "Make it extra big for the kid here. He's been traveling with me for a bit, and he needs to eat something real."
I sat down next to Jiraiya, keeping quiet. The shop was small but comfortable. The smell of cooking broth filled the air, and I watched as the man behind the counter started preparing the ramen.
Jiraiya leaned over, smiling. "Trust me, this stuff is the best. After one bowl, you'll want it every day."
I didn't know if that was true, but I nodded. I couldn't remember the last time I had something that was properly made. As I waited, I looked down at my hands, still stained with grime from the wilderness. The village might be big and loud, but right now, it didn't feel dangerous.
A few moments passed after Jiraiya ordered, and the man behind the counter—Ichiraku, I guess—slid two steaming bowls of ramen in front of us. The smell hit me hard. It was rich, savory, and made my stomach twist in a way I wasn't used to. I couldn't remember the last time I had something that smelled like it was cooked to taste good, not just to fill me up.
"There you go," Ichiraku said with a smile. "Two bowls of the best ramen you'll ever eat. Enjoy!"
Jiraiya didn't waste any time, grabbing his chopsticks and digging in with loud slurps, barely coming up for air. "See? What did I tell ya, Chihara?" he said between bites. "Best ramen in the village."
I picked up my chopsticks and started eating. The broth was hot, and the noodles were soft but chewy. It tasted... better than I thought it would. I kept eating quietly, not really sure what else to think about it. But it was good.
It was quiet for a while, just the sound of Jiraiya's slurping and people outside passing by. I kept my focus on the ramen, letting it fill the silence.
A little later, just as we were finishing up, the curtain at the front of the ramen stand shifted. An old man stepped inside. He had a long pipe in his hand, wearing simple robes that looked more comfortable than flashy. He had a kind face, though there were deep lines around his eyes, like he'd seen a lot in his life.
Jiraiya looked up from his bowl and grinned. "Well, well, look who it is. What brings you to this little corner of the village, old man?"
The older man chuckled and waved the smoke from his pipe away. "I was in the area and smelled something good. Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all!" Jiraiya said, pushing a stool out for him.
The man sat down next to me, his movements calm and relaxed. He took a puff from his pipe, then glanced at me with a gentle smile. "And who might this young man be?" he asked, his voice warm.
I blinked, caught a little off guard that he was talking to me. "Chihara," I said quietly, my tone flat as usual.
"Chihara, huh?" the man said, nodding. "It's nice to meet you."
I didn't say anything else, just gave a small nod and went back to my bowl, but something about the old man made me curious. He didn't seem like anyone special, but there was this... presence about him. Calm, like he didn't have to try to be in charge.
Jiraiya caught my glance and smirked. "Well I guess this saves us a trip to the Hokage's office."
I looked at him, confused.
"You're sitting next to The Third Hokage, kid," Jiraiya said casually, like it was no big deal.
I paused, staring at the old man. This was the Hokage? One of the faces carved into the mountain? He didn't look like the kind of person who ran a village or fought wars. He looked... normal. Calm. Maybe that was why he's in charge.
The old man chuckled again. "No need to be nervous, Chihara. I'm just here for some ramen, same as you."