young thunder

indie jiraiya of naruto, private & friends-only!

JIRAIYA OF NARUTO.

The loud presence certainly drew Madara’s senses into particular focus, angling his face slightly and shifting the tiny rings of his under armour. But the man’s words drew his mind towards the painting again, being more conscious of —indeed— a sort of mild floral scent floating from it. The aroma was not too strong, soft like apple, which was rather complementary to Madara’s cinnamon-y preferences elsewhere.

Madara dipped his head to the man with a humble nod of acknowledgement before shifting his gaze to one of the higher shelves, where was placed —he presumed— ink cakes of a greater quality than the rest. It would not hurt to add something new and refreshing to his collection, he thought, something floral to remind him of his own room’s space as he travelled so far from home. Madara picked out a decorative box that was predominantly painted in pink and yellow hues, colours that called to his heart. A relaxed simper was kept on Madara’s countenance as he came to stand by and put his intended purchase on the counter for the storekeep to pack. 

❝ Thank you for your recommendation,  Mister. ❞ Madara put his hands together in a greeting meant for those of higher station. Even if the man was not of rank (as he knew it), the scholarly and friendly spirit was enough to command respect. ❝ It would seem you are a scholar of insight,  as well.  Rare to find one set foot in these gloriously harsh borderlands.  Did your honourable self meet any trouble on the way ? ❞ Madara asked, recalling the man’s words of a trashed journal, summoning his protective nature as the general of the country concerned with the citizens’ safety in travels.

The storekeep was quick to chime in, ❝ General Uchiha is a good and dutiful man.  If you encounter any trouble,  he can surely help you. ❞ Madara shook his head, almost abashed at the offhand compliment. ❝ I’m — I’m sorry,  I did not get your name. ❞

For all his secrecy, if Jiraiya had one particular ace in the hole, it was that he had virtually no notable reputation in the shinobi world, let alone in the great scheme of nobility and their own little worlds that seemed largely unconcerned with the rest except where it suited them. The Uchiha were in a unique position; though part of that flowering world, of the glamor that came with a noble rank, they were still the standing army of the daimyo and their inner circles who wielded one of the most powerful clans like a flail of the gods to deliver wrath and justice wherever they saw fit.

From what he knew from the Senju he was currently working under--what with him being the son of the current Shimura matriarch who were the Shimura’s overlords--Madara was the one they wanted to strike down. It was a simple enough ploy: forge a friendship with the clan head who had no idea who he was, play into a seemingly mutual love of the arts, and go from there. Jiraiya had no doubt in his mind that Madara had few friends outside of his clan, as they Uchiha were strongly disliked by the clans they had leashed to the Daimyo’s will, willing or not. It didn’t make the face of the Uchiha very popular at all.

But, to a simpleton from the countryside who held a fascination for the works of kabuki, noh, and other fine theatrical humanities? Well, he was just that: someone above his rank that didn’t bear much relevance otherwise. “Eh, general, huh? Oh wait, a general!” Jiraiya exclaimed in radical surprise as he pitched into a bow, massive ponytail slapping some wayward display with an audible thunk. “I’m sorry I didn’t know any better, but I’m not real familiar by who’s what.” Feigning nervousness, it made his blundering all the more believable. Eyeing the display again, he mellowed into a warm smile flashed at the Uchiha.

On the way to the training grounds, little Uchiha Madara toddled the streets carefully with a heavy bag that seemed almost as tall as half of him. Madara considered himself a junior in his team, consisting of himself, the Hatake heir, and the Hokage’s ward. Madara wanted to make a good impression on his seniors! Thus he found himself last to arrive, but at least he had a good reason — he had made the team very sumptuous bentos, one of his hobbies as an elder brother and clan heir to the Uchiha of love and family.

Madara was absolutely relieved that they didn’t seem to mind that he was a tad late. But he had no time to ruminate on it as he was shocked into stillness when Jiraiya suddenly came to stand beside him and strong-armed him. Madara could do little but try to process the closeness of his new friend. Madara was glad that Jiraiya seemed to like him enough, he didn’t understand why; He doesn’t remember doing anything of particular note for the older boy. But this seemed to be a good start ?

❝ Ah——❞ Madara chuckled awkwardly, having difficulty understanding the sudden commotion. ❝ Do you have something important you want to do,  Jiraiya-kun ? ❞ He asked genuinely, wondering why Tajima-papa’s blessing was needed. ❝ But,  of course,  the Uchiha would be happy to bless you. ❞ Madara nodded with a shy smile, speaking as if he had any authority to decide on this, though he was sure that his father wouldn’t mind.

❝ Hello,  Sakumo. ❞ Madara waved awkwardly at the Hatake, who didn’t seem very happy for some reason. Maybe his seniors had an argument before he arrived ? Either way, he hoped the bentos would put them in a better mood.

❝ I  …  I made something,  as a younger member of the team.  Please. ❞ He formally set the bag down and crouched as well, dutifully pulling out bentos and utensils, setting them on the grass.

Jiraiya’s mind blanked the moment Madara finally came close to them, the Uchiha’s smile having a deafening effect on the Kashin’s mind as he all but fell silent that drew a suspicious look from Sakumo, but released the other boy in favor of greeting Madara himself. “Ah, Uchiha-san, don’t mind us. We were just training,” the Hatake greeted easily as he came within the younger boy’s periphery, all pleasantry and easy-going swagger Jiraiya glared at him wrathfully for before he collected himself with a sigh. 

Jiraiya recovered himself with a gallant smile as he bowed in a flourish before the Uchiha heir, trying a different approach. Heirs were basically the princes of their clans, right? So, why not act like his knight? There was no way Madara wouldn’t love it! “Not at all, Uchiha-sama, but my only wish is to thank you for being so kind to us. Maybe I could thank you with a haiku in your honor-- OW, HEY!” Jiraiya winced when Sakumo pinched his arm, certain to make sure it was unnoticed.

While Jiraiya glared at Sakumo in affront, a single tear built in his eye from the sharp sting, the Hatake merely smiled obliviously. “Very generous of you, Uchiha-san. Did you want to eat them now, or save them for later? Maybe we can share,” Sakumo suggested with a milt look while Jiraiya’s hackles raised. No way was a mangy dog-lover taking that chance from him!

Nagato was hit with a momentary pain in his frontal lobe, and he swore he could hear some kind of growl. But it quickly disappeared once the pain subsided and he wondered if he had imagined it … or if danger was near at hand? At the same moment, Madara revealed his chakra as a signal to Nagato, and he gathered his wits to move quickly.

“Sen-..Sensei ! My-.. There are Konoha shinobi here !” Nagato shouted, his sense of urgency disregarding any useless information other than the danger he feels. “What is it? What is going to happen?”

Madara was seething underneath the mask as he felt that dark, looming presence. “You were not careful. They sensed you- the Kyuubi, somehow, is here in Amegakure.” And Madara could feel that two entities were getting nearer and nearer to their location. “Nagato, we must take the first strike!” Madara gave no time to react as he propelled himself off the roof, wanting to find the shinobi before they made it further into Amegakure. If there was going to be battle, it was better to do near the abandoned canals instead. Nagato, however, hesitated because he knew it was Jiraiya who had come. Still, Nagato followed shortly behind.

Madara contemplated summoning his scythe - he felt the Kyuubi but did not see the creature anywhere. He wanted to keep his identity under wraps, if so. Obsidian chains were released from his Akatsuki robes, determined to tarry the intruder’s footsteps!

“You will go no further, Konoha scum !”

Of all the stupid things Jiraiya could do, it was fight with a baby in hand. Made worse by the fact that said baby also happened to be the most powerful bijuu in existence he’d copped as his right as the kid’s only family left, but he could feel Kushina and Minato shrieking from the Pure Lands at his flagrant idiocy when there was someone incredibly powerful he had to contend with. Someone who was the only one short of the Shodai capable of leashing a bijuu to his will.

What was worse was the fact that the other young Uzumaki in his life--who was as much a son to him as Nagato was--seemed to be nowhere in sight. Couldn’t he sense them? Wouldn’t he want to seek them out for answers, if nothing else?

Jiraiya’s consternation bloomed into a caustic medley of concern and frenzy as a mysterious figure whose chakra signature slammed into him like a freight train was cause enough for the Sannin to leap back to avoid the masked man’s entrance that was staged not meters from where Jiraiya had stood before he adroitly leapt away. Nimble for his size, he hastily succeeded through the requisite hand seals to summon one of his trustier but smaller summons, Gama, who caught Naruto with his tongue as Jiraiya pitched the infant towards him. Though the Uzumaki shrieked in amusement, Gama bounded away without needing further prompting from Jiraiya, though he grinned maliciously at the new arrival. 

“Konoha scum, huh? That’s unfair, cuz I do keep myself pretty clean, y’know!” 

If there was one thing Hiruzen had told him constantly over the years he’d spent living in the Hokage Residence, it was that there was a certain protocol when it came to how he was supposed to conduct himself around clan heads, let alone their kids. Of course, being the brash young upstart that he was, the young Kashin rarely listened. After all, his own grandmother had been the Shimura clan head, so in a way, he was like one himself, right? Not that he’d ever be that stuffy, and his papa had basically been disowned from their inheritance, but Jiraiya didn’t let it get to him. Living in the Hokage’s household had turned him into a voracious reader, and one of those books had been one on etiquette he’d read while hiding from Tsuna’s wrath.

So, he knew it, he just chose not to employ what he’d learned, was all.

That day was different, though. Meeting Sakumo on the training grounds, Jiraiya perked eagerly when their third teammate finally came, a boy that had to be the prettiest one in their class--even among the girls, which was hilarious to him. 

“Hey, Mada!” Jiraiya greeted exuberantly as he hooked his arm over the younger boy’s shoulders. “You’re gonna take us to your place, right? Because, I was thinking, I could ask for your father’s blessing--” Yet, Jiraiya was interrupted with a strangled cry when Sakumo wrestled him off and kept him in a headlock while the Hatake rolled his eyes. 

Nagato was just finishing up a checklist of things Madara had given him that morning, in the territories around Amegakure. It was rough and dangerous along the borders of so many huge countries, Madara-sensei had only just begun fortifying the village.

‘Sensei’… it was what Nagato called Madara now, the revived-man who bore the Rinnegan as well - just as Zetsu had said. Zetsu said that Madara was the strongest shinobi now, he would never die so he would never leave Nagato. He wanted peace. Yet another foolish man who wanted peace in this shit show of a world…. It was strangely comforting to know that. Nagato had lost everyone he ever bore his heart to. This world was a disaster, and he was fine if Madara wanted to remake this world in his image. Someone powerful to continue Yahiko’s dream, sort of. Everyone has to make compromises along the way, Nagato understood this intrinsicially.

Rain pelted upon his hair when he entered Amegakure, and immediately he reached out with his chakra intending to pinpoint where Madara was. But Nagato instead was put on high alert. Something very familiar was abound, and something scalding. Did Madara know this? Could there be a fight?

Nagato never thought he would feel this chakra again … that of Jiraiya … the one -on some dark days- Nagato thought the man left them all to die in this world. And Nagato’s chakra ( and curiousity! ) reached further and further, what is … that thing?? It was bright but ominous … he must rendezvous with Madara quickly!

While it was expected that Naruto wouldn't be able to finish all his ramen, warmth brewed in his chest at seeing his godson looking happier because of it. He couldn't help but think back to his days in Konoha during a reprieve in his hunt for the Child of Prophecy after Nagato's death, and for awhile, it had been happy. Minato included him in his family, and those secret feelings of viewing Minato as his own son didn't feel like they had to be a secret. Kushina, too, was like a daughter to him. It was a future he hadn't known he wanted, and for a bit--with the faith that Minato could be the Child of Prophecy--he had faith that things would be happy... until they weren't.

Jiraiya smiled indulgently as the toddler made grabby hands for him, and he scooped the Uzumaki up to perch on his forearm while he held the blond. "Alright, easy does it," he simpered when Naruto gripped his long, white forelock in a vice. Not that he minded, really, until Naruto released a distressed whimper. "Hey, what's wrong, kiddo?"

Naruto shook his head and buried his face in Jiraiya's neck, paternal feelings of protectiveness lancing through his psyche. "Bad energy!" the child whined as he jabbed his thumb in the direction towards the inner wards of Ame before he hid himself again.