The Naka River is a waterway that flows through the outskirts of the Hidden Leaf.
Given the overall scale of the shinobi world, grand natural water systems are rare. If you ever see a truly spectacular waterfall or a massive river, chances are it was created by some "bug-tier" ninja using a "bug-tier" ninjutsu. The Naka River, by comparison, was a fairly ordinary stream.
However, there was a touch of the extraordinary within its mundane flow. Not because the spring water was particularly sweet, but because it ran directly alongside a very specific area of the Hidden Leaf.
The Naka River flows through the village, hugging the borders of the Uchiha District.
Due to the Uchiha's unique standing in the Leaf—and following the policies of the Second Hokage combined with the clan's own isolationist tendencies—the entire clan lived clustered together. This physical separation was likely one of the external reasons the clan never fully integrated into the village.
Most people, whether civilian or ninja, tended to avoid this district unless they were Uchiha themselves.
It even carried a faint aura of "extraterritoriality." The villagers looked at the Uchiha with a mix of awe and suspicion, and the Uchiha felt a reciprocal sense of detachment from the village. Still, it was wartime; the external conflict suppressed internal friction, and for now, both sides stood united.
The famous shrine of the Uchiha clan was also located here by the Naka. Broadly speaking, this entire region was Uchiha territory, and you rarely saw other ninjas active here... with a few exceptions. Like Hagoromo.
He hadn't come here for any profound reason. He simply wanted a training spot that was quiet, secluded, and had plenty of water.
Currently, Hagoromo was sitting cross-legged on the riverbank. His right elbow rested on his knee, his palm propping up his chin. His left hand was held up in front of his face, his eyes fixed intently on a slip of paper. His ring finger, pinky, and thumb were curled in, while his index and middle fingers stood straight, pinching a piece of chakra induction paper between them.
He stared at the paper as if trying to bore a hole through it. He didn't move a muscle, but his expression was one of intense, strained concentration.
The paper was slowly, agonizingly, becoming damp.
It seemed he did indeed have an affinity for Water Style, but the result made him shake his head in frustration. He was practicing the nature transformation for Water, and he had reached the point where he could convert his chakra—but he had only solved the problem of "existence." To actually use Water Style ninjutsu, this was nowhere near enough.
To use Water Style, a ninja first needs the affinity. That's the baseline. Second, they need the ability to instantaneously convert a massive volume of chakra into the water element. Only then do the hand signs even matter. The more powerful the jutsu, the higher the conversion efficiency required.
If you can't manage a large-scale, split-second elemental shift, the jutsu is a dud. Hagoromo was miles away from that level of mastery.
Thinking back to his Lightning and Fire styles—Lightning was a given, and Fire was an innate attribute. Those fell under the category of "talent." Using them was as natural as breathing, a smooth, effortless process. He had never actually had to train an elemental affinity from scratch before.
With Lightning or Fire, the transformation happened with a single thought. With Water, he was struggling to even make a splash.
As for why he chose Water out of the remaining three elements, Hagoromo had his reasons.
First, Water Style was versatile. It offered both offense and defense—sometimes both at once. If mastered, its utility was top-tier.
Second, and more importantly, he had a personal stake. Not long ago, he and Kushina had "collaborated" on a very meaningful activity. As the saying goes, hard work pays off.
After that specific operation, he had acquired quite a collection of Water Style scrolls—including several high-level techniques used by the Second Hokage, the man hailed as the God of Water Style.
Leaving those high-level scrolls to gather dust because he couldn't use them was a travesty. Hagoromo had to find a way to tap into that power.
But nature transformation training is a marathon, not a sprint. It can't be rushed. It requires the slow accumulation of experience, waiting for a quantitative change to trigger... a bigger quantitative change. This wasn't just learning a specific jutsu; it was fundamental, elemental mastery. Even for Hagoromo, it required time.
Logic was one thing, but the psychological gap was another. Having grown accustomed to "fast-track" learning, this sluggish pace left him annoyed.
"Nature transformation training? Water attribute?"
A voice spoke abruptly from behind him. Hagoromo didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"Uncle Jiraiya."
It was indeed Jiraiya.
Though he greeted him with a sigh, Hagoromo was curious as to why the man was here. Stalking him? Unlikely. His gender was pretty well-defined. Was there a bathhouse nearby? An Uchiha bathhouse?
Hagoromo forced himself to stop looking for reasons that fit Jiraiya's "standard" behavioral patterns.
Actually, he was overthinking it. Jiraiya was preparing to leave the Hidden Leaf. He was about to rendezvous with his squad and return immediately to the Hidden Cloud front. He just happened to spot Hagoromo on his way out and decided to say hello.
As the commander of the most critical front, Jiraiya couldn't linger in the village, even if the Hokage had important business with him. The current global stability was purely temporary—a "calm before the storm."
Every nation was busy moving its pieces across the board. Once the deployments were finished and the fighting resumed, it would be on a massive scale.
"Is there a trick to Water Style training?" Hagoromo asked suddenly.
He remembered that Jiraiya was a master of multiple elements. Maybe the man had a shortcut or a secret tip. He looked up, eyes full of expectation.
Jiraiya was one of the few ninjas in this era who had mastered multiple nature transformations; in fact, he was proficient in everything except Lightning. And this was the guy who used to be a "dead last" in his youth. It really made you wonder if the world's method for judging ninja potential was fundamentally broken.
Jiraiya paused, thinking for a moment, then said:
"None."
He smirked. "And even if there were, I wouldn't tell you."
Was he really still holding a grudge for the other day?