Chapter 150: When I Get Back, I Have Something to Tell You
Jiraiya caught the hollow look in Jia's eyes, a heavy knot of worry tightening in his chest. But he quickly forced a wide, boisterous grin, slapping his cheeks to banish the gloom.
"Jia! Let's go catch some fish! There are a few special breeds that swim just above the Mount Myōboku waterfall. They're slippery little devils, incredibly agile and a nightmare to catch, but the taste? Absolutely out of this world. Come on, let's grab some for lunch!"
"You go ahead. I don't really want to—hey!"
Before she could protest further, Jiraiya seized her wrist, dragging her toward the roaring falls without giving her a sliver of a choice.
Once they reached the shallows, the legendary shinobi regressed into an overgrown toddler. He kicked up a massive spray of freezing water, drenching her from head to toe. The sudden chill shattered Jia's carefully maintained stoicism. Annoyed, she snatched up a smooth river stone and chucked it directly at his head.
Jiraiya nimbly sidestepped the projectile, laughing uproariously as he retaliated with a sweeping wave of water.
And so the escalation began—a splash of freezing water answered by a violently hurled rock.
As the tempo increased, their playful skirmish morphed into a full-blown taijutsu spar. Muscles tensed and limbs blurred as they traded blows in the knee-deep water. Caught up in the heat of the moment, neither held back enough. A misplaced step on the slippery riverbed sent them both tumbling backward, caught in the violent pull of the rapids. In the blink of an eye, the current swept them right over the precipice of the towering waterfall.
Plummeting from such a dizzying height, the outcome was inevitable.
Just as the rushing surface rushed up to meet them, Jiraiya violently yanked her into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, twisting his body mid-air so his broad back would take the brutal brunt of the impact.
The thunderous crash left them both seeing stars. When they finally dragged themselves out of the churning basin and collapsed onto the rocky shore, they looked as pathetic as two drowned rats.
Jia hacked violently, coughing up river water. Without her Chakra actively circulating to shield her body, taking a plunge down a waterfall felt a little too refreshing.
"Jiraiya," she gasped out, glaring at him. "Can you stop acting like a child for five minutes?"
Jiraiya merely propped his hands on the smooth stones behind him, leaning back with a lazy, unbothered stretch. Fine droplets of water clung to his silver-white hair, rolling down the thick strands. The violent rapids had torn his collar open, exposing the firm, battle-hardened lines of his pectoral muscles. Water slid down his neck, tracing the contours of his chest, catching the mid-day sun in a blinding glare.
He was laughing so hard his broad shoulders shook. "Jia, you just rolled your eyes at me again. Did you know that?"
Jia stared at him, utterly speechless. "And what exactly is so great about rolling my eyes?"
"It looks good," he said softly, his grin softening into something genuine. "You're beautiful to begin with, Jia."
The following morning, just as the sky began to bleed into a pale indigo, Jiraiya jolted awake from a restless dream. He snapped up, immediately noticing the empty sleeping bag beside his. Panic flared briefly before he scrambled out of the small wooden cabin.
He found Jia standing beneath the sprawling canopy of an ancient tree.
She stood completely motionless, her face devoid of any emotion—like an exquisite, fragile porcelain doll that merely knew how to blink.
Five years ago, her expressions had been scarce. Now, they were practically non-existent. Since their reunion, she had maintained this chillingly blank demeanor. No sorrow, no joy, no ripples of anger or amusement. It was as if absolutely nothing in this world could stir her heart anymore.
Sensing his approach, she shifted her gaze slightly, acknowledging him with a silent, empty look.
Seeing her like this sent a sharp pang of bitterness straight through Jiraiya's chest. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was all wrong. She wasn't supposed to be this hollow shell. She should have been someone who loved to laugh, who played pranks, who possessed a vibrant, lively spirit. Maybe even a bit violent and hot-tempered like Tsunade, but ultimately gentle at her core.
He didn't know where this stubborn conviction came from, but his gut screamed that this was her true nature. She had simply forged this mask of absolute ice to protect herself from a world that had hurt her too much.
"Can't sleep, Jia?" he asked, stepping up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her in the cool morning air.
"A little," Jia replied, her voice a flat, calm monotone.
"Then how about I take you to see the sunrise?" Jiraiya offered, his tone brightening. "From the highest peak of Mount Myōboku, the view is absolutely incredible. I used to climb all the way up there just to watch it." He grabbed her wrist before she could speak. "No refusing!"
True to his word, Jiraiya pulled Jia along, breaking into a brisk jog toward the mountain's highest elevation. The crisp, biting wind whipped against their faces as they ascended.
In the early hours, Mount Myōboku was blanketed under a blue-gray sky. Thick, swirling mist wove through the trunks of the ancient, towering trees. Looking out over the landscape, it was a vast ocean of white, eerily reminiscent of the Hidden Mist Technique used by Kirigakure shinobi on the battlefield.
Jiraiya led the way with boundless enthusiasm. This time, he didn't let go of her hand, keeping her smaller fingers securely enveloped in his warm, calloused palm the entire trek up.
Jia trailed behind him, her eyes fixed on his back. Seeing the literal bounce in his step, she internally marveled at his absurd capacity for joy. She really didn't understand what he was so thrilled about.
Jiraiya truly possessed an obnoxiously optimistic nature. He was happy watching sunsets, ecstatic watching fireflies, and now he was practically vibrating with joy over a simple sunrise.
But perhaps, Jia mused silently, that was exactly what it took to be the mentor to the Child of Prophecy. A relentless beacon of positive energy, capable of burning away any creeping shadows.
When they finally crested the summit, they settled down on a massive, moss-covered boulder.
Moments later, the first rays of morning light pierced the horizon, flooding into the deep, misty valleys of Mount Myōboku. The brilliant golden glow sliced through the dense fog, casting a warm, ethereal light across the ancient forest.
"Jiraiya," Jia began, deciding it was time to take the initiative and play her hand. "There is no point in keeping me here like this. My life is destined to remain in the dark. Even if there is a brief moment where you manage to drag me into the sunlight, it is nothing more than a fleeting dream."
She looked at him, her expression perfectly crafted into one of tragic resignation. "Don't blame yourself for what happened back then anymore. Stop carrying burdens that don't belong to you. You didn't do anything wrong."
She paused, letting the words sink in. "Every year, countless shinobi are injured or killed due to mission failures. I am just one of them. Jiraiya the Gallant should be able to let the past go. There is truly no need to get hung up on such small matters."
The sudden, heavy words hit Jiraiya like a physical blow. He sat entirely stunned, his eyes wide.
His thoughts churned violently. After a long, suffocating silence, he finally forced out a hoarse reply. "I understand."
But those weren't small matters, he thought fiercely. And Jia wasn't a burden.
What was she to him, then? He needed to sit down and seriously figure that out.
After the sunrise viewing, they returned to their daily routine of absolute slacking.
During this period, Jia hadn't spotted a single toad anywhere near her. It was glaringly obvious they had been strictly ordered to keep their distance from the dangerous human.
With no giant frogs available to terrorize, Jia redirected her trolling efforts toward the local aquatic life.
Her taijutsu was elite, making the bullying of mere fish and shrimp an absolute breeze. One day, she would spend hours chasing the exhausted fish from one end of the river to the other. The next day, she would carefully catch dozens of river shrimp, arranging their tiny, twitching bodies into a complex Eight Trigrams Formation on the muddy bank.
Her rules were simple: whichever shrimp managed to crawl out of the mystical formation earned its freedom and was tossed back into the river. Those that failed the trial were unceremoniously boiled and eaten for dinner.
A few days later, a summoning toad delivered a classified scroll from Konoha.
Jiraiya read it, his brow furrowing. He hesitated for a long time before finally sighing, realizing he had to leave for a while.
"I have some urgent business to handle back at the village," he told her, packing his gear. "I'll be back soon. Don't worry, the toads of Mount Myōboku are very kind. Nothing bad will happen here."
Jia, who was currently in the middle of a friendly exchange with a particularly stubborn little shrimp, straightened up. She wiped her hands, her mind racing. After a moment of calculation, she untied the small, embroidered lucky amulet bag hanging from her waist and tossed it through the air.
Jiraiya caught it with a blink of surprise.
"Remember to keep this safe," Jia instructed flatly. "Keep it on your person at all times. Do not take it off."
Jiraiya was simply too reckless. The man had actually dared to use Reverse Summoning directly onto a Susanoo. She genuinely feared that if she didn't provide some form of idiot-proof protection, he might accidentally get himself killed through sheer audacity—and the Second Great Ninja War hadn't even officially kicked off yet.
The tragedy of Sakumo Hatake had already taught her a harsh lesson: never blindly trust the plot armor of the original storyline. It was far safer to leave Jiraiya with some heavy-duty life-saving measures.
Hidden neatly inside the innocent-looking amulet bag were two high-tier sealing talismans. One was capable of completely nullifying a fatal strike from a Kage-level shinobi, while the other housed a devastating Kage-level area-of-effect attack. That should theoretically be enough to prevent him from dying to his own stupidity. Probably.
Jiraiya squeezed the small fabric bag in his palm. Whatever thoughts were running through his head, they clearly cheered him up. His signature goofy grin returned, flashing a row of bright white teeth as he looked at her like an absolute idiot.
"Jia," he said, his voice suddenly taking on a strange, nervous weight. "I've figured something out these past few days. When I get back... I have something important to tell you." He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly. "Yeah. I'll tell you when I get back. I'll bring you a gift, too! If you get bored, just go play with Fukasaku Sage and the others."
Jia stared at the massive, glowing death flag he had just hoisted over his own head.
"Okay," she replied smoothly. "I will get along with them very harmoniously."
She raised a hand, giving him a small, dismissive wave.
Take care, Jiraiya.
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