Hearing Sarutobi Hiruzen's words, Jiraiya slowly withdrew his hand from his ninja pouch.
Danzō snorted coldly.
Without another word, he turned and left, Root operatives following in silent formation.
Hiruzen lingered for a moment, his gaze returning to Namikaze Kirito.
"Kirito," he said gently, "Elder Danzō is also concerned about your safety. I hope you don't misunderstand him. He simply… isn't good with words."
"As for your parents' whereabouts—since you don't wish to speak of it, I won't force you."
"Focus on resting. Recover your strength as soon as possible."
After that, he nodded once to Jiraiya and turned to leave.
The instant his back faced the room, the kindness on his face stiffened.
He knew this matter was far from over.
The bodies of the Fourth Hokage and his wife had not been recovered.
Kirito had awakened.
Whether the Nine-Tails Jinchūriki plan could continue safely was now uncertain.
Namikaze Minato had been gentle but also overwhelmingly powerful.
If Kirito did not exist, many of Minato's old subordinates might already have fallen in line.
But Kirito did exist.
And now, he was awake.
From this point on, any plan involving Minato's legacy would have to be reconsidered—carefully.
Konoha appeared calm on the surface.
But beneath it, undercurrents were colliding violently.
The Nine-Tails incident should have been repelled by the Uchiha clan.
Instead, they had been ordered—by Danzō—to stand down.
Civilians and clans alike had suffered heavy losses.
The Uchiha, untouched.
That imbalance bred resentment.
And under the policies left behind by the Second Hokage, distrust of the Uchiha only deepened.
The Nine-Tails Jinchūriki.
Foreign villages.
The Uchiha clan.
And now...
Namikaze Kirito.
All of it weighed heavily on Sarutobi Hiruzen's heart.
For him, this was only the beginning of a far greater storm.
After Hiruzen left, Kirito relaxed back into his usual composure.
Though his expression remained cool, the weakness he had shown earlier vanished.
"Hahaha—"
Jiraiya scratched his head and laughed loudly.
"You little brat. You were clearly pretending to be weak."
Jiraiya wasn't stupid.
After so many wars, how could he not see through it?
"Jiraiya-sensei," Kirito said flatly, shooting him an annoyed look,
"I'm pretty sure the Third Hokage can still hear you."
He had always called Jiraiya sensei.
Once, Minato had tried to make Kirito call him "grandpa."
Jiraiya had flatly refused.
Too old, he said.
"Don't worry about that old man," Jiraiya waved it off, then plopped down on the edge of Kirito's bed.
"…Kirito."
"I'm sorry about Minato and Kushina."
"I should've come back sooner."
"This one's on me."
"It's not your fault," Kirito replied calmly.
"It's no one else's either."
"But that masked man…"
"I'll find him."
The moment Obito's name surfaced in his mind, cold fury surged.
Rin's death.
Blaming the world.
Killing his own Sensei.
And for that...
Kirito's parents had paid the price.
Not just Obito.
Madara.
Black Zetsu.
Tsukuyomi Project.
Even if there were no so-called Children of Destiny to oppose it—
He would crush it himself.
"Enough," Jiraiya interrupted sharply.
He saw the hatred in Kirito's eyes.
The child had always been reserved—cold, even.
If he let hatred guide him now, darkness would swallow him completely.
As an elder… as family…
Jiraiya wouldn't allow that.
"Kirito," he said firmly, "from now on, you'll live with me."
Kirito blinked.
"…With you?"
"Jiraiya-sensei, are you planning to raise me next to a women's hot spring?"
"Ahem—!"
Jiraiya coughed violently, clearly unprepared to be called out so directly.
"That's research!"
"Material collection!"
"Spiritual inspiration for readers!"
"How could I do something so shameless for my own desires?!"
"I want to live alone," Kirito said calmly.
It wasn't distrust.
It was caution.
Until his template unlocked further, the fewer people who knew the truth, the better.
"No," Jiraiya rejected flatly.
The earlier incident had reminded him of something crucial.
If he had arrived even a moment later, Kirito would already be gone—taken by Root.
That was unacceptable.
If Kirito lived alone, who could guarantee it wouldn't happen again?
Who would protect him?
"I want to leave Konoha."
That sentence made Jiraiya's expression turn heavy.
Seeing Hiruzen earlier had confirmed it—
Politics had already begun to change his old teacher.
Or rather… it had always been this way.
It was simply more visible now.
"You're three years old," Jiraiya said with forced cheer.
"And you want to leave Konoha?"
"What, you want to wander the world like me?"
"Wouldn't it be better to come with me?"
"Being chased and beaten by a group of women?"
"…Can you stop reopening old wounds?"
Resentment flashed in Jiraiya's eyes.
"My strength is still too weak," Kirito said quietly.
"And my parents… are waiting for me to save them."
"Save…?" Jiraiya frowned.
"Kirito, listen to me."
"I'm devastated about Minato and Kushina too."
"But those of us left behind have to endure this pain."
"That's part of growing up."
"No."
Kirito shook his head.
"This isn't over."
"I'm not crazy. And I'm not acting on impulse."
"My ability… sealed my parents."
As he spoke, Kirito raised his hand.
Thick, rolling black mist poured forth, completely enveloping his small palm.
"This is…!"
Jiraiya stared.
The longer he looked, the deeper the darkness seemed to pull at his mind.
He shook his head sharply, forcing himself back to clarity.
"They're in a space where time and space are frozen," Kirito continued.
"That means they'll always remain in the state of having just died."
"You're thinking…"
Realization struck Jiraiya.
Resurrection.
He knew how impossible it sounded.
Orochimaru's obsession with life and death came to mind.
Yet when he heard of Minato's death—
Even a sliver of hope would have been enough.
And now...
He understood Kirito's resolve completely.
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