Over the five months that followed Naruto's initial breakthrough with the Rasengan training—Jiraiya had been receiving an increasing number of messages. Messenger toads arrived with growing frequency, their appearances becoming almost daily occurrences rather than the occasional updates that had characterized his first months of training Naruto. Each carried scrolls sealed with various marks that indicated different sources from his extensive intelligence network spanning the entire shinobi world.
Most contained routine updates—troop movements near borders as villages jockeyed for position in the aftermath of Hiruzen's death, political maneuvering between villages as alliances shifted and reformed, reports on missing-nin activities that might warrant attention from someone of Jiraiya's status and capabilities. He usually skimmed through these reports, stored the important bits in his head like a pro, and went right back to watching Naruto train or practicing his own jutsu without a hint of worry.
But the latest scroll, brought that morning by a nervous messenger toad who'd left in a hurry instead of sticking around to chat, was different. As Jiraiya read it, the tension in his shoulders grew. He went over it again, slower this time, like he hoped he'd gotten it wrong. His expression hardened—shock, worry, and a flash of anger flickering across his face before he managed to hide it.
Meanwhile, Naruto continued his usual practice to master the Rasengan, standing near one of Mount Myōboku's countless ponds with both Gamakichi and Gamatatsu flanking him in positions they'd claimed as their own over months of observation. The rubber ball in his hands now showed significant damage—no longer just a tiny hole or even multiple small tears, but substantial ruptures from repeated successful rotations, though he still couldn't burst it completely on the first try the way his father supposedly had.
"Come on, you can do it!" Gamakichi encouraged, his tone carrying genuine support beneath his usual sarcasm. "Just imagine the water inside is Jiraiya's face when he caught us stealing his research notes to see what kind of 'important observations' he was making! Make it spin with that same panic energy we felt!"
"That's terrible advice!" Gamatatsu protested, his voice carrying the earnest disagreement of someone who genuinely believed he had better suggestions. "Imagine it's the lunch I promised you instead! Make it spin like you're mixing ingredients for the perfect meal! Food-based motivation always works better than fear!"
"Everything's food-based with you," Gamakichi shot back with the exasperation of someone who'd had this argument hundreds of times. "Not every problem in life can be solved by thinking about eating!"
"Most problems can be solved by thinking about eating," Gamatatsu countered with absolute conviction born from personal experience. "Hunger is universal motivation! It transcends species and situations!"
Naruto grinned despite his concentration, their bickering having become a comfortable soundtrack to his training over the past months, something he'd actually miss if it stopped. "How about I just make it spin because I want to master this technique and prove I can do what my dad did? Maybe honor his legacy by actually succeeding instead of thinking about food or panic?"
"Boring motivation!" both toads said in perfect unison, then looked at each other in surprise at speaking simultaneously, their expressions suggesting they were mildly horrified at the coordination.
Jiraiya approached the training area, that immediately caught Naruto's attention despite his focus on the ball in his hands. Something about the way his teacher moved—the tension in his shoulders , the grim set of his mouth that had replaced his usual casual smile, the speed of his approach that suggested urgency—made it clear this wasn't a casual check-in on training progress.
"Kid, we've got somewhere to go. Pack up your things," Jiraiya said without preamble, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument or questions.
Naruto looked up, the rubber ball momentarily forgotten in his hands, confusion replacing concentration. "Where?! I'm in the middle of training here! Can't you see, Pervy Sage? I was just about to get it this time! I could feel it starting to work properly!"
"We can resume the training after we come back," Jiraiya replied, but his voice carried an urgency that made Naruto's protests die in his throat before they could fully form. "Right now, we need to go. It's important. More important than training. Trust me on this."
Something in Jiraiya's expression—worry mixed with determination mixed with something that might have been actual fear, an emotion Naruto had never seen on his teacher's face before—told him that arguing would be pointless and possibly dangerous. He turned to Gamakichi and Gamatatsu, his own expression becoming more serious as he processed that this wasn't just another errand.
"Gamakichi, we'll train again after I come back, okay? Just don't slack off on your own training when I'm not here to compete with and push you. You too, Gamatatsu—keep practicing those water techniques Fukasaku-sama was teaching you. I want to see real improvement when I return, not excuses about how you were too busy eating."
Both toads nodded, their usual joking demeanor fading into something more sincere that suggested they understood this departure felt different from previous absences. "Don't get killed out there, Naruto," Gamakichi said, his voice lacking its usual sarcasm. "You still owe me that rematch in water walking races. I've been practicing and I'm definitely going to win next time."
"And you promised to try my cooking when you got back!" Gamatatsu added with surprising seriousness. "So you better come back in one piece, or I'll be really annoyed that I wasted all that practice preparing dishes!"
Naruto ran toward his temporary dwelling to gather his belongings, leaving Jiraiya alone with the young toads for a moment of privacy. The legendary Sannin's expression grew even more serious, his voice dropping to something that carried weight beyond normal conversation, that made both toads stand at attention instinctively.
"Gamakichi, tell Pa when he returns from whatever errand he's on to be ready for potential emergency summoning. If there's a crisis—and there might be—I'll need him and possibly the Boss Summon on very short notice. ."
Gamakichi's eyes widened at the gravity in Jiraiya's tone, at hearing one of the Legendary Sannin speak with that kind of serious concern. "Leave it to me, Jiraiya-san. I'll make sure he knows immediately. Should I tell him anything specific about what kind of situation to prepare for?"
"Just tell him to be ready for the worst," Jiraiya said grimly. "That should be specific enough."
With a nod of acknowledgment, Gamakichi hopped away to find Fukasaku, leaving Jiraiya standing alone by the pond. His face was no longer the cheerful, perverted sage his student had grown accustomed to over months of training, but something harder—the expression of someone preparing for war, of someone who'd received news that changed everything and was now moving pieces into position for whatever conflict was coming.
Naruto returned quickly, his small pack secured on his back, his expression eager despite not knowing where they were going or why the urgency. "Ready, Pervy Sage! So where are we headed? Back to Konoha? Are we finally going home? I want to see everyone! Show them what I've learned!"
Without answering the barrage of questions, Jiraiya pulled out a reverse summoning scroll, the same one they'd used to arrive at Mount Myōboku months ago. His hands moved through the familiar seals with practiced efficiency, blood applied to the correct markers with precision born from decades of use, and before Naruto could ask more questions or prepare himself mentally, the world twisted.
The sensation of dimensional travel hit Naruto like a physical blow he'd never gotten used to despite experiencing it before—space folding in directions that shouldn't exist, reality bending around him like he was being squeezed through a tube too small for his body, his consciousness existing simultaneously in multiple places before snapping into a single location with jarring finality that made his entire being scream in protest. They materialized in a forest so dense that virtually no sunlight penetrated the thick canopy overhead, creating a perpetual twilight that made it impossible to determine the time of day or even which direction was which.
Naruto immediately dropped to his knees, his stomach rebelling violently against the spatial displacement despite months of training that should have made him stronger. He retched, his body trying desperately to expel the wrongness of instantaneous travel despite having nothing in his stomach to actually vomit, dry heaves that hurt his ribs and made his eyes water.
"I would never like this kind of technique," he gasped between heaves, glaring at Jiraiya with betrayed eyes that suggested this was somehow personal cruelty. "That's the worst feeling ever! How do you do that casually like it's nothing?! It feels like dying and being reborn at the same time!"
"You get used to it after the first hundred times," Jiraiya replied, though there was no humor in his voice, no attempt to make light of Naruto's suffering. "Come with me, Naruto. We don't have much time. Minutes might matter here."
A few meters away, barely visible through the dense undergrowth and hanging vines, a cave entrance yawned like a mouth leading into absolute darkness. Its opening was partially concealed by hanging vines and strategically placed brush, the kind of natural camouflage that suggested someone had deliberately hidden it, the kind of place you'd only find if you knew exactly where to look or had been given precise directions.
Jiraiya continued walking toward it without hesitation, and Naruto scrambled to follow despite his lingering nausea, confusion mixing with growing apprehension about what required such urgency and secrecy.
"Where are we, sensei?" Naruto asked, trying to keep his voice normal despite the ominous atmosphere of this dark forest. "I thought we were going back to the village. I was missing my friends, wanted to see how Sasuke and Sakura and everyone were doing after months away. Why are we in some creepy forest instead? Why the secret cave meeting?"
"We're here to meet someone," Jiraiya replied, his voice tight with tension. "It won't be long. Just... stay close to me and try not to panic no matter what you see. Promise me that, kid."
They walked deeper into the cave, darkness swallowing them completely until Naruto had to rely on touch and sound rather than sight to navigate, one hand trailing along the damp stone wall while the other stayed close to his kunai pouch out of pure instinct. "What kind of meeting place is this?" he muttered. "Couldn't we meet somewhere with, I don't know, light? Maybe some chairs? Basic amenities like not feeling like we're walking into a monster's throat?"
Then, in the absolute darkness ahead, two pairs of eyes suddenly glowed yellow—vertical slits like a snake's pupils, reflecting what little light existed with an otherworldly gleam that made Naruto's blood run cold and every instinct scream danger.
"AHHH! There's a ghost here!" Naruto shouted, stumbling backward and nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to retreat. "Pervy Sage, there's something in here! Something with creepy glowing eyes like a demon!"
From the darkness, a figure emerged with deliberate slowness that suggested theatrical timing, someone who enjoyed making an entrance. Pale skin that seemed to glow faintly in the gloom, black hair framing a face that carried that distinctive serpentine quality Naruto remembered from nightmares, those golden eyes that had haunted his sleep since their previous encounter.
Orochimaru.
Recognition hit Naruto like a physical blow to the chest, and pure panic followed immediately, overwhelming any pretense of bravery. "NOOO! He's going to eat me! Pervy Sage, why are you doing this to me?! I was training hard! I was being good! I listened to all your lectures! I don't deserve to be fed to the snake guy as some kind of punishment!"
Orochimaru's mouth opened in that disturbing smile that showed too many teeth, his tongue extending far longer than any human tongue should be capable of reaching, flickering in the air like a serpent tasting prey as his expression became one of someone who'd found an unexpected delicacy.
"Well, I will be going to taste how a jinchūriki tastes," Orochimaru said, his voice carrying amusement as he moved toward Naruto with predatory grace that made escape seem impossible. "I've been so curious about whether demon chakra affects the flavor profile. Does it add spice? Bitterness? Such interesting questions..."
Naruto was already backing away, preparing to run despite knowing he'd probably never make it out of the cave before being caught, throwing panicked looks at Jiraiya that demanded explanation for this apparent betrayal. "Sensei! Do something! You can't just let him eat me! That's not proper teaching methodology! That's not how this works!"
"Orochimaru." Jiraiya's voice cut through the panic like a knife, carrying authority and a glint in his eyes that said the game had gone far enough. "Enough with the theatrics. We don't have time for this."
Orochimaru's advance stopped, his expression shifting to something more neutral though the amusement remained in his eyes like he'd genuinely enjoyed terrorizing the boy. "It would be bad if I didn't live up to his expectations, wouldn't it? The child should learn to handle psychological pressure better. Fear management is an essential skill."
"Are you sure you can find the solution for it?" Jiraiya interrupted, his tone brooking no further delays or jokes at Naruto's expense. "I've brought him here with considerable risks. I wouldn't have taken him out of Mount Myōboku's protection if you hadn't said you've succeeded in reversing corruption through your research. Do it quickly—check the seal, assess the situation. I don't have much time."
He continued, his voice growing grimmer: "The kid is facing serious issues with the seal. The corruption has taken a form in his body more like another tailed beast sealed alongside the Nine-Tails rather than simple chakra contamination. Two entities instead of one, both massive, both interfering with his natural chakra system."
Hearing this, Orochimaru's expression actually showed genuine surprise, his golden eyes widening slightly—a rare display of authentic reaction from someone who prided himself on never being caught off guard. "Another tailed beast manifestation from corruption alone? That's... unprecedented. Fascinating. The Third Hokage's final sealing must have had unexpected consequences beyond simply containing the foreign chakra."
"About Tsunade. Your intelligence network found traces of her?" Jiraiya said, pulling out the scroll he'd received that morning. "There was additional information in this message. "
Orochimaru's demeanor became more serious, the predatory act falling away entirely to reveal the intelligence operative beneath the theatrical monster. "I have tried everywhere—the regular places she used to visit during her wandering years, the gambling dens she favored across multiple countries, the medical facilities she might be hiding in to practice her skills. After a long search spanning most of the continent, I was able to find her trace a week ago. Following it carefully, avoiding detection to prevent spooking her... the trail vanished near Konoha. Based on the trail's age and direction of travel, she's probably already there in the village. Maybe arrived two days ago, possibly less."
"Damn it, Tsunade," Jiraiya breathed, his expression shifting through worry to anger to something approaching desperation. "Why would she go to the village now of all times? Doesn't she realize what's happening there? "
He didn't finish the thought, already turning to leave the cave with movements that suggested barely controlled panic driving him forward. "We need to hurry. We might have some time if we move fast enough. Maybe intercept her before—" he felt a sensation that something is going wrong.
Jiraiya tried immediately, hands moving through familiar seals: "Reverse Summoning Jutsu!"
Nothing happened. The technique activated—he could feel his chakra moving through the proper channels—but it simply dissipated.
He tried again: "Summoning Jutsu!" Attempting to call even a small messenger toad that might slip through whatever seal was blocking his primary techniques.
Again, nothing.
Orochimaru watched Jiraiya rush out, dragging a thoroughly confused Naruto along, his golden eyes carrying something between pity and contempt. "Just like the monkey," he murmured to himself, his voice too quiet for the departing pair to hear. "Foolish and indecisive to the end, letting emotion override tactical sense."
Just after they exited the cave into the forest's perpetual twilight, emerging from darkness into merely dim lighting, three figures stood waiting in positions that suggested they'd been there for some time. The first, positioned directly in their path with arms crossed in a characteristic pose, was immediately recognizable despite months of absence.
Sasuke Uchiha stood with his familiar superior aloofness that had always annoyed and motivated Naruto in equal measure. But something was different about him, something Naruto couldn't quite identify in his excitement at seeing a familiar face from home after so long away.
Jiraiya, however, picked up on it instantly. His trained senses, honed over decades of combat and espionage, immediately registered the wrongness. Sasuke's chakra signature had interference—subtle but present to someone who knew what to look for, like static on a radio signal. It was different, altered, carrying undertones that shouldn't be there in a Konoha shinobi's natural energy flow.
His senses, now fully alert after the initial moment of recognition, were picking up more wrongness with each passing second. Now, extending his awareness outward with the full focus of a legendary shinobi, he felt it.
A barrier. Already in place. Already active. Already sprung.
Space-Time Isolation Barrier—a high-level sealing technique that created a pocket of isolated space, preventing any form of teleportation, summoning, or dimensional travel from functioning within its boundaries. The kind of barrier that required multiple skilled seal masters working in coordination to establish, that cost enormous amounts of chakra to maintain, that was only used when you wanted to ensure your target couldn't escape through any spatial techniques.
The barrier was absolute, perfectly executed, preventing any dimensional techniques from functioning.
They were trapped. Completely, thoroughly, professionally trapped.
"Sasuke!" Naruto was already running forward, genuine joy at seeing his rival and friend after what felt like forever overwhelming any caution or tactical awareness. "You're here! How did you find us? Man, you should see what I've been training! I can walk on water now and I'm learning this really cool technique that my dad invented and—"
Jiraiya's hand shot out with the speed of someone reacting to imminent danger, grabbing Naruto's collar and jerking him to a halt with enough force to nearly pull him off his feet. "Stop. Don't move another step closer."
"Why are you here?" Jiraiya asked quietly, his hands already moving toward weapon pouches despite knowing conventional combat was probably not going to be effective against whatever trap had been prepared with this much care.
Behind Sasuke, another figure materialized from shadows that shouldn't have been able to hide someone—Kakashi Hatake, his Sharingan already exposed and spinning with active chakra, his expression carrying none of the lazy humor that usually characterized him. This was Kakashi in full combat mode, the legendary Copy Ninja rather than the laid-back teacher who read romance novels in public.
And beside them, another figure emerged from the forest's perpetual gloom—taller, broader, face partially obscured but presence undeniable in its hostile intent.
So now his only option was to fight. But the enemies in front of him were his own people—Sasuke whom he'd known since the boy was in the Academy, Kakashi who'd been his student's student, familiar faces that had become something else through circumstances he didn't understand.
Fight, but they were the same people and also completely different at the same time, transformed into threats by whatever had happened in the outside world during Naruto's training.
Jiraiya's mind raced through possibilities and strategies, all of them coming up short against the fundamental problem: without summoning, without Mount Myōboku's resources, without being able to call Gamabunta or even smaller toads for support, he was cut off from his primary combat advantage. Forced to rely on his own considerable but ultimately limited abilities against opponents who'd clearly prepared specifically for this encounter.
But something didn't add up. How had they even known his exact location—or when he'd leave Mount Myōboku—to set this kind of trap? Even if Someone had clearly been keeping watch, waiting for the perfect moment. And even if it was a trap, the ones standing before him were still Konoha shinobi.
Sarutobi-sensei's words echoed in his mind—that unsettling warning about people in the village starting to "feel different." He hadn't understood what the old man meant back then, but now… it felt like those words carried a far deeper meaning.
Were they still holding hatred toward Naruto, blaming him for what had happened to the village? That question burned through Jiraiya's thoughts, heavy and bitter, as he stared at the faces of comrades turned strangers. Even if its an order from Danzo , the look on these guys faces is , no something is wrong—
"Pervy Sage?" Naruto's voice was small, confused, the joy of seeing Sasuke fading into growing awareness that something was very, very wrong with this entire situation. "What's happening? Why does Sasuke feel different somehow? Why is Kakashi-sensei here looking at us like that"
Jiraiya didn't answer, his mind already shifting fully into combat analysis mode, assessing threats and calculating survival odds and desperately searching for some tactical advantage that might exist in this carefully prepared trap that had been sprung with professional precision.
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