Training Ground 7 was empty, save for a solitary figure frozen in the middle of a rushing river.
Naruto Uzumaki was trying to solve an equation that refused to yield.
He was standing on water.
For his Qi Control, this was elementary.
Channeling White Energy into the soles of his feet, the youth created a dense, static cushion, turning the surface into a solid floor. No ripples, no splashes—Qi handled such a trivial task effortlessly.
"Too easy," he murmured, dispelling the technique and sinking waist-deep into the cold current. "Now—Chakra."
Closing his eyes, the Jinchūriki opened the floodgates of his "primary," massive reserve. Blue chakra flooded the channels of his legs.
After the battle in the Forest of Death and the release of the One-Tail, he felt the "dam" between him and the Fox had grown thinner. Synchronization had improved. But it wasn't enough.
His own chakra, mixed with the demon's background radiation, was too turbulent. Not a stream—a tsunami. Trying to stay on water with such power was like balancing on the point of a needle while holding a boulder.
A second of concentration—and he fell through again, this time plunging headfirst.
"Damn," the blonde exhaled, climbing onto the bank and wringing out his pants leg.
The control issue would resolve itself as his body grew and adapted to the seal, but Naruto didn't have years to wait. He needed results by the exam finals.
The boy sat on a rock.
Qi is finite, it grows slowly, drop by drop. Chakra is an ocean. I can't ignore the ocean just because it's storming. I need to learn to swim in the storm.
He decided to try a radical method. If fine control doesn't work, use density.
Fox, he called mentally. Give me a little. I need raw power.
"Want to play with fire, jailer?" Kurama responded lazily, but interest was audible in his voice.
A stream of red, viscous chakra poured into the system.
Uzumaki's eyes flashed crimson for a moment, pupils elongating into vertical slits. A faint, barely visible aura of the Cloak appeared around his body.
Qi habitually enveloped his mind, creating a mental barrier against the Bijū's rage. His sanity remained clear.
Naruto stepped onto the water.
The surface beneath his feet hissed, evaporating from the heat. But he stood. Firmly. Confidently.
"Much easier this time," he growled, feeling the skin on his soles beginning to burn from the energy concentration. "Wonder why."
A twig snapped in the bushes nearby.
Reflexes fired instantly. The cultivator deactivated the Cloak, returning his eyes to blue. His hand darted to his pouch.
A man in dark glasses and a bandana emerged from the thicket.
Tokubetsu Jonin Ebisu.
He looked pale. Kakashi had asked him to help his student with training, but what Ebisu saw just now—the red aura, the boiling river, the horrific killing pressure—made the elite teacher freeze in terror.
"Y-you..." the Jonin stammered, adjusting his glasses with a shaking hand. "Uzumaki... I came to help you with control training..."
Naruto looked at him with a cold, appraising gaze.
Fear. He's afraid of me. This man is weak-spirited. He can teach me nothing.
Before the youth could answer, a huge shadow fell from the top of the waterfall, blotting out the sun.
BAM!
A stranger landed right on top of Ebisu. Or rather, on a giant toad summoned mid-flight. The teacher didn't even have time to squeak before he was crushed into the ground by the amphibian's paws and lost consciousness.
Naruto leaped back, instantly shifting into a combat stance.
Qi Sensory wailed.
A giant stood before him. Tall, with a long mane of white hair, in a red vest and with a huge scroll on his back. He stood on the toad, arms crossed, looking down at the Genin.
This man's aura was... colossal.
In volume, it was comparable to Orochimaru, but in quality—polar opposite. If the Snake Sannin felt like a cold, poisonous swamp, this man was a volcano. Hot, powerful, earthy. Reliable.
"You're trying to do it with brute force, kid," the stranger boomed. His voice was deep, mocking, and strangely familiar. "No wonder nothing's working."
Naruto narrowed his eyes. He didn't relax.
"Who are you? And why did you attack him?"
The man laughed and jumped off the toad. It vanished in a puff of smoke.
He struck a grandiose pose, throwing his head back and whipping his hair like a theater actor.
"I am the Hermit of Mount Myōboku! The Toad Sage! The one whose name makes children cry and women blush! The Great and Unique Jiraiya-sama!"
The Jinchūriki watched the performance with a stone face.
"You're loud," he stated. "And strong. A Sannin?"
Jiraiya stumbled mid-pose. He expected admiration, or at least the question "What is a Sannin?". But this kid looked at him like... a specimen for analysis. No reverence whatsoever.
The Hermit stopped clowning. His face became serious, his gaze sharp.
"And you are perceptive. And blunt."
He walked closer, ignoring the kunai in the boy's hand.
"I've been watching you. You use the Fox Cloak as a crutch. Yes, you stand on water, not because you are a master of control. But because the Fox's chakra is so thick and dense that you get stuck in it rather than sinking. You aren't controlling the water; you are forcing it with your power. That isn't the way of a master, but the way of destruction. It works while you are stronger than everyone else. But meet someone like me, who knows how to redirect force... and your sledgehammer will break your own arms."
Naruto slowly lowered the kunai. This old man saw the very essence.
"My teacher, Kakashi-sensei, is busy with Sasuke," he said dryly. "And this one," a nod at the flattened Ebisu, "saw my power and was scared to death. I have no one to learn control of such volumes from."
Jiraiya grinned.
"You have me."
"Why would you do that?" Uzumaki was skeptical. Life had taught him that free cheese is only found in a mousetrap. "I'm a Jinchūriki. Most people either want to kill me or use me."
"Because I remember my debts." The Sannin's face darkened, a shadow of old pain flickering in his eyes. "There is someone who owes you a great deal, and I owed that person. Consider it karma."
He extended a broad palm.
"I will teach you. Teach you how to make the Nine-Tails work for you, not against you. Teach you to summon Toads. And I will teach you the techniques of the Fourth Hokage."
Naruto's eyes narrowed. That name triggered a reaction.
"The Fourth? The one who locked a monster inside me and doomed me to this life? Why would I want his legacy?"
"Because he left you not only a curse but also the key to it," Jiraiya answered seriously. "You are his legacy, kid. Like it or not. Only you can finish what he started."
The blonde looked at the Sage.
There was no lie in the old man's words. Sensory perception suggested: this man was a mountain. A huge, powerful mountain that could protect from the storm. And he offered knowledge. Knowledge of seals. Knowledge of power.
"But in return..." Jiraiya added, squinting slyly.
"In return?" the youth tensed.
"In return, you stop trying to do everything alone and listen to me. And maybe buy me some sake. And stop looking at the world like it owes you something."
Naruto remained silent. Then he put the kunai back in his pouch.
It was a chance. A chance to master that very "ocean" that was inaccessible to him.
"If you waste my time, old man," he said coldly, but extended his hand in return, "I'll leave. And I won't call you 'teacher' until you prove you're worthy of it."
Jiraiya laughed—loud and booming, startling birds from the trees.
"Deal, you brat! Now wake up that loser Ebisu and let's go train. We have a month to make you a formidable fighter."
Naruto watched the Sannin's retreating back.
Perhaps for the first time in a long while, he had found someone who wasn't afraid of the monster inside him.