"No, wait—I can explain—"
"I am Jiraiya, one of the Legendary Sannin, the gallant sage of Mount Myōboku, the great lover of—"
He didn't even get to finish the "lover" part before the furious young women pummeling him began hitting even harder.
"It's for my writing! Research! I'm gathering material for my novels—ah, not the face!"
Jiraiya had traveled across nations, faced countless types of shinobi, and seen more chaotic situations than he could count. Yet, there was one kind of scenario he could never truly defend against—this one.
In the end, before things spiraled too far, he performed a quick substitution jutsu, replacing himself with a nearby object, and reappeared outside the bathhouse. He immediately leapt onto Gamaken's back and made a hasty retreat.
Only when he reached the edge of a deserted forest did Jiraiya finally stop, leaning against a tree to catch his breath.
Senju Haruto had been following him the entire time.
"You little brat…"
Jiraiya sensed Haruto's chakra and turned to face him.
"An accident," Haruto replied innocently.
"You're grinning. You haven't stopped grinning," Jiraiya shot back, glaring at him with no small amount of annoyance.
But after what had just happened, the Toad Sage decided to lower his guard.
"So, what's going on here? You're from the Senju clan, aren't you?" Jiraiya inhaled deeply, his tone growing serious again.
Truth be told, those young women had only been using their fists, more annoyed than actually dangerous. If Jiraiya had wanted to, he could have substituted out the instant he landed. But—well—he had wanted a longer look. After all, he was Jiraiya: the Legendary Sannin, the Toad Sage of Mount Myōboku.
"You could say that," Haruto nodded without hesitation. "Not only that, I've also taken over Root as its leader, replacing Shimura Danzō."
The words were delivered casually, but they froze Jiraiya in place.
Not only was this boy a Senju, he'd become the head of Root?
Jiraiya's eyes went wide, frog-like in disbelief, studying Haruto as if trying to see through him.
Was he talking about the Danzō he knew? That man giving up control to someone else?
That had to be a joke.
"If you don't believe me, go and ask Sarutobi Hiruzen directly. You'll find I'm telling the truth."
Watching the shifts in Jiraiya's expression, Haruto added calmly, "The times… have changed."
Even Jiraiya couldn't help but mutter the words under his breath.
"So… are we going to talk this through, or would you rather fight again?" Haruto glanced at their surroundings, fairly certain Jiraiya had chosen this spot on purpose—isolated, wide, and perfect for ninjutsu clashes between chakra-heavy shinobi.
"Since you're of the Senju, I'll let it go," Jiraiya said at last, standing straight. "But taking you to Mount Myōboku? I won't agree to that."
Even if Haruto spoke the truth, there was no way he was bringing him along.
Namikaze Minato had been Jiraiya's proudest student, and he still carried guilt for being away from the village during the Nine-Tails' attack. It was precisely because of that guilt that he valued Naruto more than anyone else.
But to Jiraiya's ears, Haruto was treating Naruto like a mere tool—a "perfect jinchūriki."
Naruto was only six or seven. He was still just a child.
"Oh, so now you're thinking about what's best for Naruto?" Haruto's voice held a faint, knowing smile. "Where have you been until now?"
"Don't think I'm ignorant. I know Naruto better than anyone. I know his father was Namikaze Minato, your prized student. I know his mother was Uzumaki Kushina. I even know you named him after the main character of your very first book."
"But when Naruto was quietly enduring loneliness, the cold shoulders of his peers, and the villagers' scorn, where were you?"
Haruto paused briefly before continuing.
"He isn't a shinobi. He's just a child. Years of emotional suppression are what led to his outburst. And after what happened last night, the villagers who saw the Nine-Tails will only fear him more, their stares growing colder, the ostracism harsher—a cycle that will never end."
"If this keeps up, Naruto will lose control completely."
Haruto's words came like a barrage, relentless.
Bullying in any form was dangerous—sometimes it took years to heal, sometimes it marked a person for life. And Naruto wasn't just facing a classroom bully; he was facing an entire village's quiet and open cruelty.
There was even that moment—burned into Haruto's mind—where Naruto had simply wanted to buy a festival mask, only to be shoved to the ground by the shopkeeper, treated like a curse made flesh.
It was almost a miracle, Haruto thought, that Naruto had remained so cheerful and optimistic. It was enough to make him wonder if some genjutsu like Kotoamatsukami had been cast on the boy from birth to keep him from hating the village—or from losing control of the Nine-Tails entirely during those fragile early years.
Even the Nine-Tails itself, a master of sowing hatred, had never taken advantage of Naruto's vulnerable childhood.
By the time Haruto finished, Jiraiya's expression had turned heavy.
He did treasure Naruto. That was true.
But it was equally true that he had been away from the village all this time.
"After last night, everything will change—how the villagers treat Naruto, and how Naruto feels inside. Instead of waiting for him to break again, it's better to tell him the truth now. And then help him control the Nine-Tails' power—to become the perfect jinchūriki."
"Jiraiya, you've traveled far and wide. You must have heard of the Hidden Cloud Village. There, jinchūriki aren't feared symbols of despair—they're respected. Yugito is one, and so is Killer Bee."
Haruto drove the point home with examples of Cloud's success, adding that, thanks to Yugito's presence in Konoha, he already knew the path to becoming a perfect jinchūriki.
"Your task," Haruto concluded, "is to take me and Naruto to Mount Myōboku."
"Maybe you're right," Jiraiya admitted, "but Naruto's still a child. And controlling the Nine-Tails… it's not something easily done."
To him, it seemed wiser to wait until Naruto was older before attempting such a dangerous process.
But Haruto shook his head. "Naruto is far more clever and resilient than you think. And besides… Naruto has me."
As his words fell, Haruto's pupils began to shift—the black fading into a deep, blood-red as three tomoe spun into view.
"Sharingan?!"
Jiraiya's eyes widened to their limits, staring in outright disbelief.
Not only did Haruto possess the Senju clan's Wood Release, he also wielded the Uchiha clan's Sharingan.
Just who was Senju Haruto?