"This is outrageous! Minato, why aren't you reining him in—"
Jiraiya was shouting as he barreled toward the Hokage's office without so much as knocking.
As for the Hokage's guards—"Jiraiya-sama, you can't just go in"—he ignored them all.
Please. The Fourth is my student; even if it were the Third, so what? If Danzō can slam doors and pull faces, you think I, Jiraiya, wouldn't dare?
"Minato—Mi—"
He shoved the door open—only to see that besides his student, there was an Uchiha inside.
Though he'd never met Uchiha Yorin, the instant he saw him, Jiraiya knew.
Yes—this was Uchiha Yorin.
Because there isn't a second Uchiha on earth who cares so little about saving face.
"This guy and Nagato…"
Since taking office, Minato had been swamped, working late every night; his letters to Jiraiya were understandably brief.
He certainly hadn't mentioned that he and Uchiha Yorin were getting along well enough to be a Naruto–Sasuke stand-in duo.
In Jiraiya's mind, Yorin was still a "born-evil Uchiha brat."
Hard to imagine he'd show up in the Hokage Building, much less sit at the same table with Minato.
…
While Jiraiya stood there frozen, Uchiha Yorin had already stepped forward, grasped Jiraiya's hands in both of his, and shook his arms enthusiastically—looking even friendlier than Minato himself:
"You must be Jiraiya-sensei!?"
Jiraiya: "Huh?"
Uchiha Yorin: "I'm a fan! I subscribe to your masterpiece, Make-Out Paradise, every day!"
Jiraiya: "Ah!"
The first "ah" was confused; the second was dawning realization.
A little proud, a little pleased, a little embarrassed, he didn't know what to say.
…
He didn't know what to say—but Yorin did. "I've heard Jiraiya-sensei often goes out for 'field research,' but I've never had the honor. Today we finally meet—allow me to host and give the master a proper welcome—best venue, best girls, you must honor me!!"
What could Jiraiya say?
Since Uchiha Yorin was being so sincere—how could he refuse?
Both Yorin and Minato could see that, though Jiraiya was trying hard to keep a straight face, he was about to crack.
Minato felt a little embarrassed and couldn't help reminding him: "Jiraiya-sensei… um…"
While he was choosing his words, Uchiha Yorin had already jumped in: "Minato, Minato, rare chance—come with us!"
"Eh—no, um—" Hearing Yorin say that, Minato grew even more anxious. If earlier it was "improper," now it was "run for your life."
Just as Yorin slung an arm around his neck to drag him off to go "happy," Minato made a snap decision—whoosh—and flew away with Flying Thunder God.
The sight struck Jiraiya as kind of absurd, like he'd fallen into a trap.
But Yorin's next words wiped away the doubt:
"Ahaha, married henpecks are so lame. No helping it then, Jiraiya-sensei—just the two of us."
"Eh—eh, but—is this really okay?"
Watching his student Teleport out and the over-enthusiastic Uchiha in front of him, Jiraiya instinctively felt it was a trap—a six-hundred-billion–explosive-tag–level trap.
Still, he was a master—bold because skilled. He figured, this is Konoha; I'm the legendary sage Jiraiya. What's one little Uchiha going to do?
Nagato's situation is a headache—but even headaches need work–life balance, right?
And so he got hauled into Konoha's high-roller club and partied hard.
At first, Jiraiya kept a sliver of caution. But that evaporated the moment Uchiha Yorin said:
"Jiraiya-sensei's entire bill—on me!!"
Jiraiya: "Ahaha—oh, I couldn't possibly!"
Saying "I couldn't possibly," he beamed like the sun and threw both arms around a hostess—playing it wild.
Uchiha Yorin: "As expected of Jiraiya-sensei! What stamina. Tell me—how many bouts today?!"
Jiraiya: "Ke-ke-ke, I'll take on ten!!"
Uchiha Yorin: "You heard him—Jiraiya-sama says he can take ten!!"
…
And so the next day, Jiraiya staggered out of the club on trembling legs, half a wreck—when a ninja cat hawker was yowling:
"Extra, extra! Breaking news!"
"I can't—can't delay proper business," Jiraiya muttered, shuffling toward the Hokage Building. He bought a New Konoha Times as he walked, planning to read on the way.
One look—and he couldn't help blurting: "What the—!"
"Last night, a very enthusiastic Jiraiya-sama returned to his favorite club and thundered: 'I'm gonna take on ten!!'"
Below it, a smaller subhead:
"Club staff report Jiraiya-sama was in peak form, unrivaled in battle—like a god descended!"
Jiraiya: "…"
If it had just been that, he might have griped and moved on.
But with the "Sage of Intel," his sensitivity to information was sharp.
After seeing today's headline, he thought of yesterday's.
Yesterday said his condition had finally been "cured." Today he "took ten." Isn't that basically an ad for Orochimaru's new tonic?
Ads are one thing—but Orochimaru hadn't paid him a single coin in endorsement fees. Worse, it implied he really was ill.
"Damn you, Orochimaru. Damn you, Uchiha—ow… my back…"
Anger rose, but the moment he tried to strike a pose to express it, a stab shot through his kidneys—like his body was hollowed out. Hunched over, pounding his lower back like a man twenty years older, he slowly tottered toward the Hokage Building.
From a distance, Yorin watched, stroked his chin, and nodded. Then he turned to Orochimaru beside him:
"See? That gives us tomorrow's front page too."
Orochimaru: "…"
Though he'd become a boss-tier nihilist, he still observed a moment of silence for his old friend Jiraiya.
And then, beneath the silence—came a surge of excitement.
He had a hunch:
After Uchiha Yorin's latest shenanigans, Ryūchi Cave Yin-Nourishing Yang-Boosting Powder was going to explode in sales. All he had to do now was grab a sack and wait for the cash.