Tanzaku Quarters was alive in ways Konoha never quite was.
The streets pulsed with color and noise—paper lanterns glowed in red and gold, casting ripples of light across tiled rooftops and cobbled alleys. The air carried a dozen scents at once: skewers sizzling over open flames, sake poured too generously, and sweet dango syrup wafting past clouds of tobacco smoke. Shamisen strings twanged in tavern corners, laughter rose in drunken waves, and vendors barked in chorus, each voice fighting to be heard.
Naruto turned in a slow circle, eyes wide, the energy of the place buzzing through him like an electric current. "This place is nuts…"
Beside him, Jiraiya adjusted the drape of his red cloak, his grin stretching like he'd just come home. "It's lively, that's all. Good for the body, good for the soul." His voice dropped lower, grin sharpening with a wolfish edge. "And even better for… research."
Naruto shot him a flat look. "You mean drinking and hitting on women."
"Call it diplomacy," Jiraiya corrected, the faux gravity in his tone ruined by the sparkle in his eyes.
They stopped in front of an inn with a wide, low roof, lanterns burning cheerfully at its entrance. Warm light spilled across the steps, accompanied by the sound of chatter and the faint notes of a shamisen drifting from inside.
"We'll stay here tonight." Jiraiya clapped Naruto on the shoulder. "Meet me before sundown tomorrow. Don't get lost, don't get swindled, and don't eat so much you can't run when I wake you up for training."
Naruto huffed, scowling. "Tch. Like that'd happen."
But Jiraiya was already striding inside, his booming laugh swallowed quickly by a chorus of giggles as two women at the entrance tugged him eagerly toward the tavern hall.
Naruto scratched his cheek and muttered, "Hopeless."
He drifted away from the main street, letting the noise fall behind as he wandered into smaller alleys. The lanterns here were dimmer, quieter, painting the stone in shades of amber instead of fire. That was when a sign caught his eye.
Shinobi Provisions.
The shopfront was modest, but in the window, he spotted rows of kunai gleaming in the light, travel packs stacked neatly, and folded cloaks draped across wooden racks.
Naruto pushed the door open. The air inside smelled of oiled steel, leather, and clean cloth. The atmosphere was calm compared to the chaos outside—quiet, organized, purposeful.
Shelves lined the walls with throwing stars, smoke bombs, and scrolls. Clothing racks carried subdued tones: blues, greys, deep forest greens. Nothing like the bright orange jacket Naruto tugged at self-consciously, the fabric frayed from missions and patched in spots.
He winced. Out there in the window, surrounded by gear meant for real shinobi, it looked more like a clown suit than a uniform.
On the rack before him, a set of clothes in shinobi blue caught his eye: a jacket with reinforced seams and sturdy stitching, pants to match, and sandals with thicker soles. Practical. Solid.
Naruto lifted the jacket and ran his hand along the sleeve. It was cool under his fingers, but strong. "Way better."
"Good choice," said a voice.
Naruto glanced over. The shopkeeper, a wiry old man with sharp eyes, leaned on the counter. His smile tugged more at one side of his mouth than the other.
"Blue hides you better than orange," the man added. "Unless you like being a target."
Naruto scratched the back of his head, sheepish. "Guess I stood out too much, huh?"
The old man chuckled knowingly. "Most kids do. They learn quick."
Naruto stacked the outfit into his arms and made for the counter, already grinning at the thought of ditching his old jacket. But then—something on the cloak rack stopped him.
A flash of white, trimmed in bold red flames.
He froze. His hand drifted toward it almost without thinking. Fingers brushed the edge of the fabric. It was lighter than it looked, smooth and clean, with an edge that caught the lantern light.
The shopkeeper followed his gaze and chuckled again. "Ah. You've got an eye for the Fourth Hokage's style."
Naruto blinked. "…The Fourth's?"
"Mm." The old man stepped around the counter, brushing the cloak's hem with care. "He wore a cloak just like this. You'll see imitations now and then—shinobi buy them to look sharp, or to chase his shadow. Always a favorite."
Naruto tilted his head, grinning faintly. "Guess it's pretty cool."
"Cool enough to cost you a little more," the man said dryly, naming a price that made Naruto wince.
Still, he dug out his coin pouch, stomach twisting as it grew lighter with each clink of metal. "Totally worth it," he muttered as the shopkeeper folded both the blue outfit and the cloak into neat brown paper bundles.
When Naruto stepped back into the street, his pack was heavier and his wallet nearly empty—but his grin stretched wide all the same.
By the time he returned to the inn, the tavern below was roaring, the air thick with voices and drink. Naruto slipped past, up the narrow stairs, and into his room. He set the bundles on the futon and untied them carefully.
The blue jacket fit snugly, the seams stiff at first but relaxing against his shoulders. The pants moved smooth and easy, the sandals gripping the floorboards with each step. He turned toward the bronze mirror nailed to the wall and grinned at the reflection.
"Now that's a shinobi."
He set the flame-patterned cloak aside, still wrapped in its paper. Not yet. Tomorrow, maybe.
The door creaked open.
Jiraiya stepped inside, cheeks flushed, his hair mussed, the scent of sake and perfume trailing with him. He was chuckling at some joke only he'd heard—until his eyes landed on Naruto.
The grin faltered. His steps slowed.
"…Minato?"
Naruto blinked. "Huh?"
For a moment, Jiraiya's gaze seemed to look through him. Blond hair catching the lantern light, a stance straighter, older, sharpened by new clothes. For one heartbeat, the years folded back.
Then Jiraiya shook his head sharply, muttering, "Tch. Too much to drink."
Naruto tilted his head, brows furrowed. "Who's Minato?"
Jiraiya coughed into his fist, forcing a crooked grin. "Nobody you need to worry about right now. Just… someone you reminded me of."
Naruto narrowed his eyes suspiciously but smirked anyway. "Guess that means I look good, huh?"
Jiraiya chuckled, easing the tension. "Yeah. You're finally starting to look like a shinobi."
Naruto flopped onto the futon, still grinning. For a while, only the muffled music from below filled the silence. Then, Naruto sat up suddenly.
"Hey, Pervy Sage."
Jiraiya raised a brow, half-lidded from drink. "Mm?"
"I… talked with Kurama. The Nine-Tails."
The room stilled. Jiraiya's eyes sharpened, cutting through haze in an instant. "You what?"
Naruto leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "We came to an agreement. Four tails—that's the limit. Past that, he says my body'll melt. Past that… he doesn't care what happens."
Jiraiya's face darkened, unreadable. "…Four tails. That's what he told you?"
"Yeah." Naruto's hand curled into the futon. "But I'm not planning to push that far unless I have no choice. What I want is control. Enough to use his power without drowning in it."
For a moment, Jiraiya only stared. Lantern light flickered across his features, deepening the lines carved there by years of burden. Finally, he sighed.
"You're a gutsy brat, I'll give you that." He poured sake into a cup, then pushed it aside untouched. "But don't forget—the fox isn't your friend."
Naruto's lips tugged faintly, stubborn. "He's not my enemy either. Not anymore. Back at the training ground… he gave me advice. Said it was just 'hazard mitigation,' but it still helped."
Jiraiya snorted. "That sounds like him." He leaned forward, studying Naruto more closely. "You've changed, brat. Used to be you'd scream about forcing him into line. Now you're talking about… agreements."
Naruto's mouth twisted into a half-smile. "Guess yelling didn't get me far."
Almost without thinking, his hand rose to press against his chest. Right over the spot where Sasuke's Chidori had torn through him. He rubbed it once, thumb tracing a scar only he could feel.
"Getting a hole blown in you… makes you think a little differently."
For a long beat, Jiraiya said nothing. His eyes softened, just slightly. Then he leaned back, lips tugging into a wry grin. "At least you're learning. Pain's a good teacher."
Naruto let his hand fall, forcing a grin back onto his face. "Then I'll get stronger. Strong enough Kurama himself has to admit I'm worth working with."
Jiraiya barked a laugh. "That's the spirit."
The moment lightened. The air shifted. Jiraiya's grin curved sly. "Although, some things haven't changed."
Naruto frowned. "Huh?"
"Like how red you get when a certain Hyūga girl shows up."
Naruto froze. "…Eh?"
Jiraiya's brows lifted innocently. "Hinata, wasn't it? The one I caught planting a kiss on you before we left? Don't tell me you've forgotten already."
Naruto's face went crimson. "Y–You were spying on us?!"
"Research," Jiraiya said smoothly, lips twitching.
"That's not—!" Naruto buried his face in his hands. "I can't believe you saw that—why didn't you just—ugh!"
The Sannin chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "So? Who is she? A teammate? A stalker? A secret fiancée I should know about?"
"She's… Hinata," Naruto mumbled, ears burning. "She's nice. Strong. Kinda quiet." His voice softened despite himself. "She… believes in me. Even when I mess up."
Jiraiya tilted his head, then grinned wider. "Hooo. So that's why you looked like you'd swallowed a lantern when she kissed you."
"Shut up, Pervy Sage!" Naruto flailed, scarlet to the roots of his hair.
The old man laughed until the walls shook. Finally, he sighed, softer. "Relax, brat. It's good. To have someone who sees you for who you are, not just what you carry. Don't let that kind of person slip away."
Naruto peeked out from between his fingers, still red. "…You're not teasing now, are you?"
"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," Jiraiya smirked.
Groaning, Naruto flopped back onto the futon and yanked the blanket over his head. "You're impossible."
Jiraiya's chuckle followed him under the covers, warm and low. "Get some rest, brat. Tomorrow, the real work begins."
Naruto peeked one eye out, glaring. "Fine. But you'd better not bring this up again."
"Can't make promises," Jiraiya replied, grinning far too smugly.
Naruto groaned and buried deeper under the blanket. But even as Jiraiya's laughter filled the room, a small smile tugged at his lips in the dark.