JIRAIYA'S HOUSE,
CENTRAL DISTRICT,
KONOHAGAKURE...
Jiraiya was eventually discharged from the hospital after a full recovery, taking almost four months. Surprisingly there were no scar on his body despite going through multiple surgeries. What miraculous healing techniques Mito-sama possess! Jiraiya couldn't help but exclaim while looking at his reflection in the mirror. If I remember correctly then in sometime Jiraiya will have his nose studded when that jeweller from the North of Land of Fire fools him into believing that it will make him look more attractive and give him a cool vibe. Apparently Nose stud is in fashion among the youth nowadays. Later, Tsunade will make fun of him. Jiraiya will remove it but the nose piercing will look like a wart, messing his face further up. Yes! Jiraiya didn't have a wart but a badly closed up nose piercing mark. He isn't going to do it. He also need to do something about his red facial markings that he copied from Orochimaru. His red facial markings were located under his eyes and ran down his cheeks while Orochimaru's purple-blue markings extend from his eye sockets down to the sides of his nose. It was a childish thing he did trying to look cool like Orochimaru.
The past few weeks has been quite eventful in my perspective. Hiruzen has punished Tsunade by reducing her to Genin Status and making her clean up my room as her first D-rank mission. Hahahaha! Jiraiya couldn't help but laugh picturing Tsunade's face. Jiraiya was very happy with the outcome. Her parents had protested but once the Will of Fire speech was released by Hiruzen, they all shut up. Even Mito-sama lost whatever arguments she had. He couldn't help but grin at the ingenuity of his scheme. The culprit has became the victim though Tsunade immensely benefited. Her parents are alive. He too benefited. He wasn't blamed or punished for spying like previously and was instead praised for saving the life of Senju Patriarch while Tsunade was condemned for her ungrateful actions. She must have been pissed, irritated and annoyed at the turn of events. Also, the Senju Clan is indebted to me, they even offered generous compensation for her violent acts. Jiraiya didn't declined the offer but instead he asked for two other things from the Senju Clan. The first was assigning some Senju Clan members to refine some of the mediocre Genins and three Chunins from his Farming Clan for a few years. Why do we, a farming clan possess Shinobi? Because booking a C-rank escort mission every time we go to sell our harvest in Fire Capital is costlier than funding some of their own clansmen in the Shinobi Academy in the long run. He was one such outcome funded by the clan though he turned out to be uncaring towards their clan or their interest. That's how they possess few Shinobis. Don't underestimate the few Genins and Chunins from his Clan. Remember the Five Great Nations alongside Land of Samurai combined produced only an army of 80000 only. Everyone of them were Chunin or ranked higher. It is easy to graduate from the Shinobi Academy but hard to become a Genin, harder to attain the rank of Chunin and hardest to receive the rank of Tokubetsu Jōnin. Barely a few exceptional Shinobi among thousands achieve the rank of Jōnin that's why when one is going to be promoted to the Jōnin Rank, the Hokage personally promote that Shinobi alongside the Jōnin Council. It was also why the teams were sometimes led by Chunins and not Jōnin. Jōnin are a hot commodity but scarcely available. At present, the Senju possess the most number of Jōnins hence why they went into extinction in the future because they mostly faced the brunt of the First and Second Shinobi World Wars, fighting in the frontlines. They are followed by Hyūga Clan and then the Uchiha Clan. Surprised? Well... Blame Hashirama and Tobirama for doing a through work on the Uchiha Clan. This was the reason the clan didn't join Madara Uchiha in his rebellion.
The other was an outrageous demand: The Sword of the Thunder God of the second Hokage currently wielded by Kawarama Senju. Even Hiruzen felt embarrassed listening to his demand. The Senju Patriarch was even more astonished at his appetite. Ofcourse! They refused!! Jiraiya actually wanted some Elemental Justus for his clansmen but he couldn't outright demand it as he surely will be rejected that's why he started with such outrageous demands so that they won't feel a pinch when handing over Elemental Justus. Yeah! He knew Elemental Justus and he could also teach his clan but how will he gave an explanation to the others when asked how he learnt those techniques. Hence he resorted to this method.
When they refused, Jiraiya then demanded techniques from Scroll of Seals that too were denied swiftly. He argued that Orochimaru had been allowed to see and learn from the scroll as such he too is qualified. But this time Hiruzen strongly objected and said that Orochimaru was once a generation as such he has high level of understanding of justu and isn't impulsive like me. We argued a lot and Jiraiya eventually gave up on the idea.
The third time he asked for Uzumaki Sealing Techniques. This time Kawarama was a little embarassed as he had previously boasted to Jiraiya to ask for anything in his power to do but he already has rejected his demands twice and will have to refuse again. Uzumaki Sealing Techniques belongs to Uzumaki Clan not their clan however he and Tsunade are allowed to learn them but still couldn't teach it to others. He isn't like his father who could bend the rules with sheer strength. He rejected again.
Atlast, Jiraiya asked for Elemental Justus and the Senju Patriarch agreed to handover the elemental justus of his liking as long as they are not above B-rank. Hiruzen agreed too! He had been informed about the Photographic Memory Jiraiya possessed by Orochimaru. He was shocked. Such an ability is quite useful in gathering information about the layout of their enemies hideout, confidential secrets, etc.
Orochimaru has advised him to allow Jiraiya to leave the village to train in Mount Myōboku so that things cooldown between them otherwise this is the end of the road for Team Hiruzen. He was always busy pondering on how to proceed with reconciliation of Jiraiya and Tsunade.
Jiraiya decided to handover this techniques to his clan. Why this sudden love for his clansmen? Because he wasn't Jiraiya anymore. Being a Hindu, he was raised in an environment where it is important to fullfill the duties to Kul(Family), Jati(Clan), Varn(Community). He was always a community guy and it hasn't changed after coming here. So he will make sure that atleast te Ogata Clan will become more powerful than the Inuzuka Clan under my guidance as quickly as possible.
ROAD TO THE FIRE CAPITAL,
LAND OF FIRE....
The road to the Fire Capital was like a quagmire of dirt, stone, and sweat. The concept of good roads still hasn't been considered. Since the Ogata Clan started selling their harvest in Fire Capital, the men and women of the Ogata clan had walked it with hunched shoulders, their carts laden with wheat, mountain yams, and barley. They walked with the quiet, heavy gait of people who knew the exact value of a Ryo coin and the precise weight of getting a good price for their families.
But this season, the stride of the caravan was different. It was crisp. At the front of the column walked Kenji, a broad-shouldered man whose hands were mapped with the deep, permanent calluses of a lifetime spent turning soil. Yet, slung across his back was a longbow of cured hickory, its string waxed against the damp morning mist. At his hip hung a straight-bladed iron sword, not the elegant, chakra-conductive steel of a Konoha Shinobi, but a heavy, functional tool forged by a good village blacksmith. He was the first Chunin from their Clan and most powerful. Then he remembered Jiraiya. That selfish B*stard abandoned the Clan! He had become a Tokubetsu Jōnin and had tried to be cozy with those Shinobi Clan b*starts despite being from civilian background. Now look! What happened! He is in the hospital fighting for life and death. No matter what rank you acquire! In their eyes you will always remain a lowly civilian trying to play shinobi. They weren't even allowed to visit him because Jiraiya has severed all ties after setting up our business trade with a merchant from the Fire Capital. Jiraiya had saved the life of that merchant as such the merchant was very grateful to their Ogata Clan and offer twice the money they get when they sell at Konohagakure hence why they travel to sell at Fire Capital instead of Konohagakure. Jiraiya had also purchased them some land in the Fire Capital for shifting them to the prosperous capital if they wished. The b*stard is loaded with money. The clan is grateful for these favours from Jiraiya but that doesn't justify severing all ties. If he had helped them, many of their fellow Genin would have easily gained the Chunin Rank with his connections and resources, bringing more money to their clan. Serves him right for abandoning all of his kin in favour of those shinobi clan kids.
"Hold the line," Kenji called back, his voice cutting through the creak of wooden axles. "The ridge ahead is a blind turn. Keep your eyes on the treeline."
Behind him, four younger men adjusted their grips on their Kunais. They didn't move like seasoned chunin, but they didn't move like helpless genin either. They moved like men who had spent the last three winters navigating the Shinobi world, learning how to center their weight, how to brace against a sudden rush, and how to drive an intruder into the earth. The others was busy in their missions. They have a total of thirty one Shinobi in their Clan with three Chunins, one Tokubetsu Jōnin and rest are seasoned Genins.
Jiraiya watched them from the branch of an enormous tree at the peak of the hill. A faint smile touched his lips, though it was weary. It had taken five years of meticulous planning, endless negotiations, and patient instruction to turn a clan of easily exploited farmers into a disciplined trade guild capable of defending its own livelihood.
Before he took them under his wing, the Ogata clan had done what every other civilian farming family near the border did: they hauled their harvest straight in Konohagakure. It was the logical choice, or so it seemed. The hidden village was close, its walls were high, and its appetite for food was insatiable. But Konoha's merchants were ruthless. They knew the farmers feared the bandits in the outer territories. They knew the farmers couldn't afford to let their produce rot. So, they offered pittance, barely half the market value of the crop and called it a favor.
'The village protects you from the rogue ninja, the Konoha middle-men would say, tossing a meager pouch of Ryō onto the scales. Be grateful we buy your grain at all.' Gratitude didn't fill bellies through a long winter. It didn't buy medicine for the elders whose bones ached from the work on cropland. One of the reasons many decided to turn to Shinobi life.
So, he had changed the equation. He spent months tracking the movements of the local shinobi patrols, mapping the sectors where the active shinobi squads cleared out bandit camps. He didn't have the authority to command ninja, but he had eyes, ears, and brain of a budding spy master. Every season, he compiled the safe routes, the blind spots where rogue mercenaries had been driven out and never dared to return then he handed those maps to Kenji.
Then came the harder part: Turning them into competent shinobis. They didn't have the chakra reserves for ninjutsu, nor the genetic inheritance for flashy kekkei genkai. But they had the raw, dense muscle that came from a lifetime of lifting stone and pulling plows. He harnessed that. He spent months teaching them basic bukijutsu and C-rank elemental ninjutsu to those who possess Fire-release and Earth-release chakra natures. He even taught them how to draw a bow without throwing off their balance for long range attacks, forced Orochimaru to taught them how to skilfully use a sword blades, and how to use their traditional wrestling moves during Taijutsu. Their clan was well versed in wrestling. It was their favourite sport for entertainment. The results spoke for themselves. The Fire Capital paid fair market price for their harvest. The profit margins skyrocketed. For the first time in history, the Ogata clan wasn't just surviving; they were accumulating wealth.
His moment of quiet celebration was shattered by a sudden, violent shift in the air pressure.
It wasn't a physical blow, but a massive spike of chakra that rolled over the hill like an incoming thunderstorm. The horses hitched to the coin carts reared, whinnying in panic. The young Genins instantly dropped into the wrestling stances he had taught them, Kenji's hands flying to the hilt of his basic iron swords.
From the sky, a massive cloud of white smoke erupted with a deafening pop.
"What is that?!" one of the younger Genins yelled, his knuckles turning white on his kunai. "A bandit attack?"
"No," Kenji muttered, his eyes narrowing as the smoke began to clear. "Bandits don't advertise their arrival with that much theatrics."
As the white fog drifted away in the mountain breeze, it revealed a giant, bumpy-skinned toad, easily the size of a small barn. Perched atop its head, standing with his arms crossed, was a boy who looked entirely out of place among the dirt and honest sweat of the trade route. He wore a black shirt with a protective mesh, his long, spiky white hair cascading down his back like a mane. A broad, Konoha forehead protector rested on his brow with red facial markings. It was Jiraiya. Kenji didn't knew Jiraiya actually possessed powerful summons. He had heard the rumours but didn't believed them until now. That looked powerful.
The giant toad vanished in another puff of smoke, leaving the white-haired boy to drop lightly onto the dirt road. Jiraiya's aura farming was complete. He landed without making a sound, a stark contrast to the heavy, giant entry just moments ago.
For a long moment, Jiraiya didn't look at the caravan, nor did he look at the men holding weapons. He looked up at the sky, stretched his arms over his head, and let out a loud, theatrical sigh.
"Ah! The sweet, smell of the crops from our fields!" he boomed, his voice carrying across the valley. "Nothing beats the smell of the soil where a man's journey began. Though, I must say, you all looks a lot more shinobi like than I last remembered."
Kenji stepped forward, his bow half-raised, his eyes darting around. "Who goes there? State your business for stopping the Ogata trade caravan."
Jiraiya paused. He blinked, looking at Kenji as if the man had spoken in a foreign tongue. Then, a massive, boisterous laugh erupted from his chest. He clapped his hands together, stepping closer with an easy, unbothered familiarity that made Kenji tighten his grip.
"Kenji? Is that you behind that ridiculous bow?" Jiraiya laughed, shaking his head. "Man, you've grown old! And what is this? Since when does you started carrying bow instead of extra sword? Did someone beat some sense into you about the advantages of having a long ranged weapon while I was away?"
Kenji's face hardened. He didn't lower the bow. "Jiraiya. It has been almost three years since you completely severed ties with the Ogata Clan."
"Three? Really? Time flies when you're doing missions across the nations!" Jiraiya waved a hand dismissively, as if the three years of total abandonment was nothing more than a long weekend for him. He finally turned his gaze toward the carts, his eyes lingering on the heavy iron-bound carts that held the harvest to sell at the Fire Capital.
"Well, whatever the reason, it seems the old clan has hit a streak of good luck. Look at all this large quantities of grain! Good, good. It makes what I have to say a lot easier." He walked past the guards, completely ignoring the weapon pointed at his flanks, treating the defensive perimeter they had painstakingly made as nothing more than a row of decorative blades. He stopped at the lead cart, rapping his knuckles against the wood.
"I've been thinking a lot about the future lately," Jiraiya said, his tone shifting from overbearing to something more grounded, though no less arrogant. "The world is getting dangerous. The villages are restless. A civilian clan with soon to achieve minor clan shinobi status and no real backing is just a lamb waiting for the slaughter. It's time for a change. The Ogatas need a proper leadership. A leader who can cement our name on the map of the shinobi world, protect our new found status, and safeguard our shinobis from becoming meat shields for Shinobi clans."
He turned around, spreading his arms wide, his face splitting into a confident grin. "So, I've returned. As a Tokubetsu Jōnin, I am already considered an adult. I am also the strongest son of this bloodline as such I'm assuming the leadership. You can put the clan elders at ease, Jiraiya, the youngest Tokubetsu Jōnin ever is back to lead his people."
Silence fell over the road. It wasn't a silence of awe or reverence. It was the cold, suffocating silence of deep resentment. The young guards looked at Kenji; Kenji looked at me. None of them were excited. None of them cheered. He felt a little awkward.
"You've returned?" An unfamiliar person spoke up, stepping out from the back of the group. The voice wasn't loud, but it possessed a sharp, cutting clarity that instantly drew Jiraiya's attention.
Jiraiya's eyes locked onto him. The easygoing grin on his face faltered for a fraction of a second, replaced by the calculating gaze of a spymaster. He looked him up and down, noting his posture, the absence of a forehead protector, and the way the clan members instinctively shifted their weight to form a protective crescent around him.
"And who might you be?" Jiraiya asked, his voice losing some of its booming warmth. "I don't remember you from the old days."
"I am the person who made sure these men had a harvest left to sell," the person replied, walking forward until he stood between him and the lead cart. "I am the person who taught them how to use those bows you just laughed at. And I am the person who helped them navigate the market so it doesn't bleed them dry for the crime of being born civilians while you were enjoying your easy life with the Hokage."
Jiraiya looked at him for a long moment, then let out a soft, amused chuckle when he remembered who he was. Last time he was a pot-bellied over-healthy pig, "I had already found them a merchant who offered double the price offered in Konohagakure for the harvest. You don't need to play the saviour Sato-san!"
He was a shrewd merchant from the Fire Capital who had his eyes on the land Jiraya had purchased for his clan so Sato helped our clan, build up close relation, eventually married in the clan and later convinced the Ogatas to move to Fire Capital and settle there. At first he only married for the land but due to a fruitful talk with Sannin Jiraiya, Sato decided to completely severe ties with his own clan and wholeheartedly accepted to lead the Ogatas.
"Ah! You know me? Sato was surprised. He wasn't from a prominent merchant clan.
"Look, friend, I appreciate that you've helped my people keep the wolves at bay while I was serving Konohagakure. But the playground games are over. This is a matter of clan blood, and frankly, you're an outsider." Jiraiya ignored him and declared.
"An outsider," Kenji growled, his voice thick with anger. He took a heavy step forward, the tip of his sword pointing directly at Jiraiya's chest. "He has bled with us for three winters, Jiraiya! Where were you when the frost killed half the crop two years ago? Where were you when the Konoha tax collectors threatened our grain? You were enjoying yourself in the tea houses of the Red light district!"
Jiraiya's expression sobered with a little bit of embarrassment. The playful demeanor vanished entirely, replaced by the heavy, oppressive aura of a man who had fought killed countless bandits. The sheer pressure of his presence made the younger Genins take a step back, their legs trembling under the weight of his unreleased chakra.
"Watch your tone, Kenji," Jiraiya unleashed the patriotic-emotional movie dialogues. "I am a shinobi of Konoha. My duties are to the Hokage and the safety of the entire Land of Fire. That safety is what allowed you to farm in peace. Do not presume to know the weight of the burdens I carry."
"Your burdens didn't feed our children," Kenji fired back, refusing to back down despite the sweat pouring down his face from the pressure. "Your name didn't pay for Shinobu's academy entrance fees. Our grain did. Our sweat did. His guidance did. If you had been with the clan then two of ours brothers wouldn't have been crippled. Isaka almost died Jiraiya. You gave us hope and then brutally snatched it." They had been a small civilian clan so they mostly get D-ranks. The wounds were received during experimental ninjutsu training without any guidance.
Jiraiya placed a hand on Kenji's shoulder, gently pushing his sword down. Kenji looked at Sato, his eyes furious but trusting, and slowly stepped back into the formation.
Sato faced Jiraiya, keeping his posture entirely relaxed. He didn't try to match his chakra; doing so would only validate his belief that power was the only currency that mattered. He was a Samurai but he knew his limits as well abilities. Power doesn't solve every problem.
"You want the leadership, Jiraiya?" Sato asked calmly. "Tell me, what is the current price of a kilogram of barley in the Fire Capital?"
Jiraiya blinked, thrown off by the question, "What? What kind of a question is—"
"What is the cost of fertilizer?" Sato interrupted, taking a step closer. "How much Ryō does it take to sustain four children in the Konoha Academy? What are the names of the four children from the clan currently enrolled in the Konoha Academy? Which gate do they use? Who are their instructors?"
Jiraiya opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His brow furrowed, a rare look of genuine discomfort crossing his features. How the hell was he supposed to answer that? His memories hasn't yet completely settled down. This merchant is too shrewd that's why the last time he had strong-armed him into yielding wholeheartedly to his Clan.
"You don't know," Sato said, his voice dropping to a cool, steady whisper that carried perfectly to every man in the column. "Because to you, a clan is just a stepping stone to your fame, discarded when you don't need it and returning when you want to feel grounded after a long mission. But to these people, the clan is a living, breathing entity that requires daily care, time, sacrifices, and economic strategy. You are a shinobi, Jiraiya. A magnificent, terrifying shinobi. But a shinobi cannot lead a clan of farmers." Sato declared.
Jiraiya's eyes narrowed, a flash of dangerous irritation lighting up his pupils. Good thing! He was a transmigrant and knew how to deal with politician. Poor Jiraiya would have been helpless against this verbal assualt, "A clan without a strong leader is just a target. You think these little swords and hunting bows will stop a rogue ninja squad? You think your clever ideas will protect them if a war breaks out? They need a name that makes people think twice before attacking. They need the youngest Tokubetsu Jōnin ever."
"Then let us put it to the test after we return from the Fire Capital, selling all of this harvest." Sato said, gesturing to the valley infront of us, towards the Fire Capital. "The elders can wait at the village square. Let us see if they want a name, or if they want a future."
Jiraiya agreed and accompanied them amid the hostile looks from his own clanmates.
The journey to the Fire Capital was tense. Jiraiya walked a few paces ahead of the caravan, his hands tucked into his pockets, his long white hair swaying with his stride. He maintained an air of unbothered confidence, but he noticed the subtle way Sato's eyes scanned him. Good thing! He has asked for a long vacation from Hiruzen. Hiruzen has also approved it believing that keeping Jiraiya and Tsunade out of each other's lives for the time being is beneficial to the future of Team Hiruzen.