Chapter 32: The Hunter's Gaze
The morning sun felt aggressive after the sterile, white-lit halls of Annex 7. Jiraiya didn't speak until they were three blocks away. His hand was a heavy, grounding weight on Naruto's shoulder. The Sannin wasn't just walking. He was marching. His usual theatrical swagger had been replaced by a tense, predatory stillness.
Naruto didn't mind the silence. He was busy.
[System Notification: Host Mental Integrity: Stable.]
[Threat Assessment: Danzō Shimura. Status: Updated.]
[Data Acquired: Root suppression frequency, chakra signature variation, psychological profile.]
[Current Mental Fatigue: 14%. Recommended action: Sensory grounding.]
Naruto reached into the sleeve of his dark yukata and pulled out the sandalwood comb. The smooth wood felt cool against his palm. The faint, spicy scent acted as an anchor, pulling his focus away from the lingering vibrations of Danzō's crushing chakra. He began to run the comb through his long, blond hair. The rhythmic motion steadied his breathing.
"That was a mistake, Naruto," Jiraiya finally said, his voice was low and devoid of its usual humor. "A calculated risk is one thing. Walking into Danzō's parlor just to show him you can pick the locks is another. That is how people disappear."
"He needed to know," Naruto replied. He kept his voice flat, devoid of the adrenaline that usually followed a confrontation. "If I had hidden, he would have hunted. By showing him I can disrupt his suppression seals, I changed his classification of me. I am no longer just a weapon to be seized. I am a variable he cannot fully predict."
Jiraiya stopped in the middle of the quiet street. He looked down at the four-year-old boy. He saw the noble, refined posture and the cold, blue eyes that held far too much weight for a child.
"He's a hunter, kid. You didn't just scare him. You made yourself the most interesting prey in the village."
"Good," Naruto said. His thumb traced the teeth of his comb. "Interest breeds observation, and observation requires proximity. I would rather have him where I can see him than in the shadows."
He knew the truth from his memories of the manga. Danzō operated best in the dark, acting against enemies who didn't know they were being targeted. By walking into the light, by walking into Annex 7 and walking out, Naruto had forced the game into the open.
They reached the Hatake compound in silence. Kakashi was there, leaning against the gate with a book in his hand, though he wasn't reading. His lone visible eye tracked them the moment they turned the corner. He took in Naruto's pristine appearance and Jiraiya's grim expression, then closed his book with a soft thud.
"I assume the evaluation went poorly," Kakashi said.
"It went exactly as intended," Naruto answered, walking past him toward the porch.
Inside, the house was cool. It smelled of old wood and the light floral scent of the tea Kakashi had brewed earlier. Naruto sat on the engawa, the wooden veranda, and placed his comb beside him. He needed to process the data he had harvested. The way the Root operatives moved. The specific tint of Danzō's malice. It was all information, and information was the only currency that mattered in this life.
[Analysis Chamber: Active.]
[Subject: Danzō Shimura.]
[Observation: Subject utilizes a high level of psychological projection. His reliance on systemic control suggests a fear of unpredictability. Current threat level: Extreme.]
Jiraiya sat down heavily beside him, the wood groaning under his weight. "You've got a lot of your father in you, kid. The mind for strategy, the talent for seals; But Minato knew when to play his cards close to his chest."
"My father died for a village that currently houses my greatest threats," Naruto said, his gaze fixed on the small garden. "I don't intend to follow his example of self-sacrifice. I want security, Jiraiya. Real security: Not the kind that depends on the mercy of old men in high towers."
Jiraiya sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked at the boy, really looked at him. He saw the tension in Naruto's small frame. He saw the way Naruto's hand hovered near the comb, seeking comfort in a tool because he didn't know how to ask for it from a person.
"Seals take time," Jiraiya muttered, almost to himself. "They take preparation. Ink. Focus. If Danzō decides to stop playing games and sends an elite squad to grab you in the street, you won't have time to draw a barrier."
Naruto looked down at his hands. He knew this. The "Intent-Ward" and the "Sentry-Ward" were passive defenses. He had no fang. He had no way to strike back instantly. In the original story, Naruto survived on luck and the Fox's chakra until he learned the Rasengan. But this Naruto couldn't rely on luck.
"I am working on increasing my chakra density," Naruto said defensively. "I can redirect force. I can walk on water. I can—"
"You can survive," Jiraiya interrupted. "But you can't win. Not yet."
The Toad Sage stood up. He walked into the center of the overgrown garden. He plucked a water balloon from a stray bucket Kakashi had left out—remnants of a water-walking exercise from the day before.
"You want security?" Jiraiya asked. He held the water balloon in his palm. "You want to be a force Danzō can't suppress? Then you need something that is yours alone. Something that doesn't need ink, or hand seals, or the Fox."
Naruto watched, his analytical mind already dissecting Jiraiya's posture. He knew what was coming. He had watched this scene on a screen in a hospital bed a lifetime ago. But seeing it now, feeling the chakra gather in the air, was different. It wasn't a story. It was a lifeline.
"Watch," Jiraiya commanded.
Chakra began to swirl in Jiraiya's palm. It wasn't the gentle flow of water-walking. It was violent. Turbulent. The water inside the balloon began to churn, distorting the rubber. It spun faster and faster, a contained hurricane in the palm of a hand.
Pop.
The balloon burst. Water splashed onto the dry stones, but the chakra didn't dissipate. It lingered for a second, a spinning sphere of pure, condensed power, before fading.
Naruto stared. He knew the theory. He knew the steps. Rotation. Power. Containment. But seeing it performed by a master was a revelation. It was the ultimate expression of shape manipulation.
"That wasn't a seal," Naruto whispered.
"No," Jiraiya said, shaking the water off his hand. He looked at Naruto, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and deep, sorrowful memory. "That is the legacy of the Fourth Hokage. It took him three years to create it. He never finished it. But he left it for us."
Jiraiya walked back to the porch and tossed a fresh, dry water balloon into Naruto's lap.
"It's called the Rasengan," Jiraiya said, his voice serious. "It's an A-rank jutsu. It's dangerous. It's difficult. And if you master it, you'll be holding a typhoon in your hand."
He grinned, the expression finally reaching his eyes.
"Your father created it, Naruto. Now, I'm going to teach you how to use it."