Chapter 113: Jiraiya and His Riddles
Sakura sat with eyes half-lidded, watching the flames lick at the sweet potatoes in the brazier while Kakashi laid out his strategy for the war beside her.
The whole thing could be summed up in a single word.
Hold.
It wasn't a bad approach, actually. Kumogakure was starving right now — while Sakura's side got to sit here roasting sweet potatoes, their counterparts were probably gnawing on bark. The desperate party wasn't Konoha. It was Kumo.
They'd burned through enormous resources and manpower to start this war. They needed something to show for it.
Jiraiya glanced at Kakashi, then looked around the room.
"Any objections?"
A weathered, hard-faced officer spoke up in agreement.
"Kakashi's got the right idea."
The others nodded along.
Jiraiya paid them little attention. His gaze settled on Sakura.
"What do you think, Sakura?"
The old man had told him before he shipped out: for internal matters, consult Shikahisa. For external matters, consult Sakura.
Shikahisa was over on Danzō's side of things, so Sakura was the only one left to ask.
I think that sweet potato is about to burn and it won't taste nearly as good.
"Ah — I think we need to send out a large number of scouts to get a clear picture of Kumogakure's situation."
"Their resources are thin, it's the dead of winter, it's bitterly cold out there — there's no reason they'd be this quiet."
"At the same time, we need to locate their supply lines fast."
"And then hit them."
Sakura gauged the room and offered the more conservative recommendation.
Cutting the enemy's supply lines was always the best move, in any era. It had been Cao Cao's favorite tactic for a reason.
Jiraiya rubbed his chin and nodded.
Not a particularly flashy plan — but grounded and sound. Recklessness was the death of any campaign. Unorthodox strategies were for when you were the one with your back against the wall.
Right now, Konoha had the advantage in resources and logistics. In terms of raw strength, it was roughly even — and even fighting a two-front war, this was a village that had weathered three consecutive four-on-one conflicts. The pressure wasn't unbearable.
Granted, those hadn't all come at once.
Even for someone like Jiraiya who despised war, it was simply a fact: Konoha was built to fight outnumbered.
"Also, we need heavy guard on our own supply lines to prevent a raid. If our logistics hold, we can outlast Kumogakure until they're forced to withdraw."
Sakura continued:
"That said, this is all the best-case scenario. They have no reason to sit in this weather and grind it out with us — any halfway competent commander can see how badly the conditions work against them."
"Kumogakure is planning something."
Jiraiya nodded.
"Well said. That's my junior for you."
Kakashi quietly rolled his eye.
"In that case — attach more Hyūga clan members to the scout teams. Locate Kumogakure's supply depot as fast as possible."
"Assign Nara, Akimichi, and Yamanaka clan members to guard our own logistics."
"And increase patrol frequency around the camp perimeter."
Jiraiya's orders came in rapid succession. The assembled officers acknowledged each one.
They were just rising to leave when Jiraiya called out and stopped them — which drew a round of puzzled looks.
Is there something else?
"Hold on, hold on — sweet potatoes are done. One for everyone."
Jiraiya cheerfully raked the potatoes out of the coals and handed them around, one apiece.
The officers exchanged slightly pained smiles — but each took their potato and hurried off to see to their assignments.
"Where's mine?"
Sakura stared. Even Kakashi had one. She was the only one left empty-handed.
"You don't get one."
Jiraiya glanced at her, unbothered, already peeling back the charred skin to reveal the golden flesh inside.
"Tch. Fine, be stingy about it."
Sakura turned to leave — and then Jiraiya held out his own peeled potato.
"You don't get one. But I can give you mine."
His eyes were unusually still as he looked at the pink-haired girl before him.
Sakura noticed his hand — red from holding the scalding potato — and her brow creased slightly.
What is this man playing at?
"Hmph. Take it or leave it."
She took it without ceremony and walked out of the tent.
Jiraiya watched her go, a flicker of irritation in her step. Then Kakashi glanced at the reddened hand and carefully ventured:
"Should I find a medical ninja?"
Sakura was the best medical ninja on the entire front line — but given the look on Jiraiya's face, he probably wasn't going to ask her.
"You too. Go on."
Jiraiya waved him off, something wistful in his voice.
He watched Kakashi's hesitant silhouette disappear through the tent flap, then turned his gaze back to the glowing coals.
Sakura's actions had started another war. Jiraiya hated that. He hated it deeply.
But — as Hiruzen had put it.
Even so. What of it?
Sakura was part of the village's new generation. With her abilities, sooner or later — even if she never became Hokage — she would be one of Konoha's indispensable pillars. Her medical ninjutsu alone proved it. With Tsunade absent, who in the village could match her? On that basis alone, the post of Medical Corps Director already had her name on it.
What he'd done just now was meant to tell her something: as long as there were still seniors in Konoha willing to shoulder the weight for her, she could do what she wanted. Whatever consequences followed, they could absorb the blow.
But people grew old. People died. The day would come when this generation was gone too.
And on that day, there would be no one left to hold the scalding potato and peel it open for her.
Jiraiya wasn't worried she wouldn't understand.
The girl was sharp. She'd figure it out.
Crunch.
Out of the command tent, Sakura stared at her potato slowly going cold in the winter wind — and bit into it with barely-contained fury.
Of course she understood what Jiraiya meant.
But she had her own reasons.
Ugh. This is so infuriating.
"Ah — Sakura?"
"What's wrong with you?"
Sasuke had been waiting outside for her. He blinked at her complete disregard for any semblance of composure.
Sakura swallowed her mouthful. Green eyes settled on the dark-haired boy in front of her.
Your teacher is Kakashi. Kakashi's teacher was Minato Namikaze. Minato's teacher was Jiraiya.
"Come on. Spar with me."
She finished the last of the potato in two bites and tilted her head at him.
Sasuke's eyes lit up immediately.
"Yes."
Six years. Six whole years since Sakura had agreed to fight him properly.
This time — he was going to show her exactly how far he'd come.
(Chapter End)
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