Chapter 161: Jiraiya Finds Out
Jiraiya brushed off the lingering oddities of his meeting with his sensei. After a brief rest to wash off the grime of travel, he headed straight for the Sealing Squad headquarters. To his surprise, Tsunade was nowhere to be found. A quick detour to the Konoha Hospital yielded the exact same result. Relying on his old investigative instincts—and a few well-placed questions to the locals—he finally tracked her down to a dimly lit izakaya tucked away in a quiet district.
The heavy scent of fermented rice wine hit him the moment he parted the noren curtains. Tsunade sat slumped at the corner of the wooden bar, a porcelain sake pot gripped tightly in her hand. A dark, oppressive aura hung over her. Kato Dan sat across from her, speaking in low, earnest tones, but Tsunade barely acknowledged him, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Lovers' quarrel already?"
Jiraiya didn't bother with pleasantries. He swaggered over, unceremoniously wedging himself into the narrow space and forcing Dan to slide his chair to the side.
The sudden intrusion caught Tsunade completely off guard. She choked on her mid-sip sake, descending into a violent fit of coughing. It took her a long moment to recover. Snatching a napkin, she wiped her mouth and glared daggers at him. "Don't just pop out of nowhere, you idiot! You nearly gave me a heart attack."
Jiraiya merely offered a boisterous, unapologetic laugh.
"What, were you two whispering sweet little secrets and got scared I'd eavesdrop? Relax, I didn't hear a thing. And even if I did, my lips are sealed."
Tsunade let out a cold, dismissive snort, turning her gaze away. She reached for her sake pot again, but as her fingers brushed the ceramic, a faint tremor shook her hand.
Jiraiya had returned to the village far too early. She hadn't had the time to lock her emotions away into neat little boxes, and right now, she had absolutely no idea how to look her old teammate in the eye.
Dan, ever observant, noticed her faltering composure. He smoothly reached out, steadying the wobbling sake pot before it could tip over. With practiced grace, he poured a fresh cup for Tsunade, then filled another and slid it toward Jiraiya.
"Jiraiya, do me a favor and put in a good word for me," Dan said, offering a helpless, self-deprecating smile. "Tell her to stop being so mad. She's been giving me the cold shoulder for two days straight, and I've completely run out of ideas to coax her out of it."
When it came to matters of the heart, Jiraiya was somehow even more clueless than Dan. How was he supposed to know how to cheer up a woman?
His fingers absently brushed against the lucky amulet pouch hanging around his neck. A sudden thought struck him, and a goofy grin spread across his face.
"Why don't you drag her to the casino for a few rounds?" Jiraiya suggested brightly. "I remember she used to practically live at the gambling dens. Once she loses her entire paycheck, she'll be way too busy cursing her rotten luck to stay mad at you!"
Tsunade stared at him, utterly speechless. For a fleeting second, she genuinely debated the merits of punching him straight through the floorboards.
Years ago, everything had changed. After Jia lost his arm, the dynamic of their team had shattered. Jiraiya had lost the heart to diligently study under Hiruzen-sensei, reverting to his old habits of peeping at hot springs to mask his guilt. And Tsunade? She had completely lost her taste for the thrill of the casino.
For years, she had buried herself in medical texts, obsessively pushing the boundaries of Medical Ninjutsu. She had sworn to herself that if another comrade ever lost a limb, she would have the skills to heal them. To fix it.
The mere thought of Jia sent her mood plummeting into an icy abyss, yet she forced her facial muscles to remain perfectly still.
"I stopped playing those stupid games a long time ago, Jiraiya," she replied, her voice eerily calm.
After a brief pause, she shifted the topic. "Why were you looking for me in such a hurry anyway?"
"I want to pick up some advanced Sealing Techniques," Jiraiya said, leaning against the counter. "Aren't you currently researching the Sandaime's medical scroll? I want a spot in that project."
"Fine. Just don't get in my way and cause trouble while I'm working."
According to the grim intelligence Dan had brought back, Jia had been branded with a forbidden curse seal. Tsunade immediately assumed that Jiraiya had somehow discovered this horrifying fact and was scrambling for a way to break it.
'It's better to keep him occupied,'she reasoned internally.'If he's buried in sealing scrolls, he won't have the time to notice the other anomalies around the village.'
Blissfully unaware of her internal turmoil, Jiraiya got exactly what he came for. Highly satisfied, he stood up, clapped Dan on the shoulder twice with an encouraging wink, and strolled out of the tavern.
That night, the moonlight filtered through the window of Jiraiya's apartment. The room was dead silent.
Suddenly, Jiraiya bolted upright in bed, his eyes wide open in the dark.
Something was wrong. Everything was completely wrong.
From the exact second he set foot back in Konoha, every single interaction—with Hiruzen-sensei, with Tsunade, with Kato Dan—had been laced with a bizarre, underlying tension.
If he were truly the careless, loudmouthed fool he pretended to be, he would have never noticed a thing. Or, at best, he would have realized it months too late.
But years ago, he had been so thoroughly outplayed and deceived by that rogue Sand Ninja and that terrifying little girl that it had left a permanent scar on his pride. He had spent months afterward consulting Sakumo-senpai, obsessively studying the art of reading micro-expressions and psychological tells.
He began to dissect the day's events.
In the Hokage's office, Hiruzen-sensei had clearly been on the verge of confessing something heavy, only to abruptly swallow his words. That hesitation was the exact reason Jiraiya had deliberately brought up his hot spring "research"—to break the tension and play the fool.
Then came the tavern. On the surface, Tsunade's behavior seemed flawless. The bubbling anger, the petty dissatisfaction with Dan—it all fit her usual persona. Dan's apologetic smile and his humble plea for romantic advice were equally picture-perfect.
But the moment Jiraiya had unceremoniously squeezed into the booth, a raw, unfiltered flash of panic had crossed Tsunade's face. It had lasted for barely a tenth of a second before she masked it by choking on her sake, but he had caught it.
Even more damning was her reaction to his gambling joke. When he mentioned the casino, she had frozen. His honed intuition screamed at him.
That wasn't the nostalgic surprise of someone being reminded of an old hobby. That was the rigid stillness of someone suppressing a deep, agonizing trigger.
And then there was Kato Dan.
He was the most suspicious of them all. The instant Tsunade's mask slipped, Dan had moved with terrifying precision, smoothly covering for her and catching the sake bottle before it could even wobble. His smile had been flawless.
Because it was too flawless, it was entirely unnatural.
Throughout the entire conversation, Kato Dan had never once looked Jiraiya directly in the eye.
Dan was a man renowned for his impeccable manners and respectful demeanor. Why would someone so polite commit such a glaring social faux pas? What exactly was he avoiding?
Something massive had happened in Konoha, and they were all coordinating to keep him in the dark.
But why?
Could something have happened to Orochimaru?
Jia had left Mount Myōboku less than a month ago. Since returning to the village, Jiraiya had already seen the Hokage, Tsunade, and Dan. The only person he hadn't checked on was his snake-loving teammate.
Orochimaru was a dedicated researcher who rarely stepped foot outside the village gates. Had he taken a sudden whim to go on a field mission and gotten himself injured due to rusty combat skills?
It was a slightly absurd theory, but right now, it was the only logical puzzle piece that fit.
Jiraiya tossed and turned, sleep completely evading him. The moment the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon, he threw on his clothes and marched straight toward the Research Institute.
He arrived before the facility even officially opened. Leaning against the cold stone wall, he waited as the bleary-eyed researchers began trickling in for their shifts. He offered a casual greeting to his old classmate, Hiruko, before slipping past the security doors and heading straight for Orochimaru's private laboratory.
Orochimaru practically treated this sterile bunker as his actual home, spending day and night surrounded by beakers and scrolls.
Jiraiya pushed the heavy metal door open, expecting to see his teammate hunched over a workstation. Instead, he found Senju Nawaki sitting alone on a stool, his face covered in nasty purple bruises and swelling.
Orochimaru was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Orochimaru?" Jiraiya asked, his brow furrowing.
Nawaki winced as he prodded a particularly nasty welt on his cheek, his voice dripping with teenage indignation.
"Orochimaru-sensei said my combat fundamentals are way too weak. He went to Lord Hiruzen to requisition some advanced Earth Release scrolls to 'help me improve.' He's a Jonin! Beating the crap out of a Genin like me is just a walk in the park for him! I'm literally the most outstanding ninja of my generation, how the hell am I weak?!"
Not Orochimaru?
A cold, heavy knot of dread suddenly formed in the pit of Jiraiya's stomach.
He walked over and slumped into the plush, ergonomic chair Orochimaru usually favored, deciding to wait and interrogate his teammate the moment he returned. As he leaned back, the custom backrest tilted perfectly, molding to his spine in a deceptively comfortable embrace.
His gaze drifted aimlessly around the pristine lab, scanning the organized shelves.
Suddenly, his eyes locked onto a specific, empty space on the wall.
The complex, highly advanced mechanical prosthetic arm that Orochimaru had been painstakingly building for Jia... was gone.
Jiraiya shot up from the chair as if he had been electrocuted.
"Nawaki!" he barked, his voice sharp. "Where is the mechanical arm that was sitting right there? Why is the shelf empty?"
Nawaki blinked, looking at him listlessly. "Oh, that thing? Sensei finished compiling all the technical data for it. He packed up the prototype and sent it over to the ninja tool shop for commercial sale. The asking price is absolutely insane, but those rich ninja from the great clans will probably throw money at it anyway."
Jiraiya's breath hitched.
That arm was specifically designed for Jia. Why in the world would Orochimaru sell it?!
A storm of conflicting emotions flickered across Jiraiya's face.
When Orochimaru had first drafted the blueprints for that prosthetic, he had proudly shown them to Jiraiya. With every single prototype iteration, Orochimaru had excitedly walked him through the upgraded chakra-conduction functions and joint mobility.
During their very last meeting, Orochimaru had sworn he was going to improve the arm to absolute perfection. He had promised that they would travel to Mount Myōboku together to personally install it on Jia.
So why would he just sell it?!
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