Training alone was slow—too slow for Uchiha Shigure. But he wasn't without options. Activating his Shadow Clone technique, he pushed the limit and created five copies of himself to assist with his training. Every clone that practiced contributed its successes and failures back to him, multiplying the results. Five times the training speed. Five times the exhaustion. But also five times the results.
Days blurred together as he repeated the exercises again and again. His chakra control improved rapidly, each feedback pulse from his clones sharpening his awareness until he felt the resistance of the rubber ball pressed between his hands growing weaker.
His breath slowed. His concentration peaked. The chakra within him surged and spun violently.
With a sharp crack—bang!—the rubber ball finally burst in his hands.
Shigure let out a long exhale. Two stages of training completed. Only the hardest remained.
Elsewhere, his teammates weren't slacking. Hyūga Akane spent her evenings honing gentle fist patterns in secret sessions with their squad leader, Hyūga Hizashi. Being of the same clan, Hizashi passed her subtle tricks that were not easily found in scrolls. Shigure didn't join—not because he couldn't, but because the Sharingan had long since copied many of those clan techniques already.
Hatake Kusuo, meanwhile, defined diligence itself. Shigure had become the benchmark in his eyes, so Kusuo trained constantly—tree climbing, water walking, chakra drills. With time, his control matched any promising genin in the village.
Watching from afar, Shigure thought the scene had a strange familiarity. Training in the quiet countryside, team bonds forming—it reminded him of the way Kakashi's Team 7 had once fought Zabuza and Haku.
After several more days, their journey brought them into the Land of Hot Springs.
Yugyu Village was nothing like Konoha. Steam curled lazily from rows of bathhouses and inns that lined the streets. Elegant wooden buildings gleamed from careful upkeep. Even the flowers along the cobblestone paths were meticulously maintained. Compared to Konoha's practical bustle, this place felt like a village that had forgotten war entirely.
Hizashi spoke quietly as they passed under the carved gate. "This is Yugyu Village, famed for its hot springs. Some call it the village that chose peace over battle."
Akane's eyes darted across the streets. "I don't see anything suspicious. I wonder where the White Rose is supposed to be."
"Maybe it's a store," Kusuo guessed.
Shigure shook his head. "Whatever it is, it won't be obvious."
Hizashi studied the surroundings thoughtfully. "The village is too broad to search as one group. Let's divide. If you see anything unusual, give the signal." With that, he departed with Noguchi Hideo, their client from the Craftsmen's Village.
Left on their own, the three younger genin stepped into the lively streets.
"Let's look around," Shigure suggested.
Akane's face already lit up. "Then we absolutely have to see Rose Street! It's the most famous place in town. Every house grows roses—it's said the entire street smells like a garden!" Without waiting, she grabbed Shigure's wrist and pulled him toward the bright market road.
Behind them, Kusuo trailed reluctantly, muttering under his breath. "Great, guess I'm the third wheel… Is it that obvious she likes him?"
Shigure, oblivious, thought only of the mission ahead.
Rose Street unfolded exactly as Akane had promised. Though a narrow alley compared to main roads, beauty lived in every corner of it. Roses spilled from wooden boxes on windowsills, clung to gates in twining vines, and scattered petals in the wind. A fragrant tide drifted around them with every gust. Petals danced weightlessly, turning the air into drifting pink and red.
"What a street…" Akane whispered, her fiery hair catching the breeze. Her pale eyes lingered on the flowers—and then on Shigure. "If I could live here, surrounded by this every day… It would be happiness itself."
Her look lingered perhaps a second too long.
Shigure caught it, but his own thoughts remained stubbornly rational. Ninjas grow up fast. Even children still learning the basics are already tangled in feelings they don't understand… It's dangerous. Distracting. A sin, almost.
They wandered through, but the alley itself was quieter than expected. Few villagers moved about at this hour. Shigure quickly lost interest in the scenery and began scanning shadows, his senses sharper than before.
A sudden tug startled him. A pretty woman had slipped into his path, her smile playful. "Hey, young man, interested in a stay at our hot spring inn? Rooms are cheap, service is warm…"
Shigure shook his head immediately. "Sorry, no. We're on business." He brushed past without hesitation, slipping deeper toward the alley's edge.
That's when he saw him.
A lone man crouched near the bathhouse window, movements twitchy, posture awkward. His face pressed far too close to the steamed glass.
Suspicion prickled instantly. "You two," Shigure said lowly to Akane and Kusuo, "follow me. That one's trouble."
They trailed behind quietly.
The man in question leaned further toward the window, muttering indistinctly to himself. Shigure moved in quickly, grasped his shoulder, and demanded, "Who are you? What are you doing?"
The man jolted, spinning around. A broad grin split across his lips as though to play innocent. "Oh-hoh, easy there, kid! My dear, you're going to ruin my fun."
At that exact instant, a shriek erupted from inside the bathhouse.
"KYAAA! Someone's peeping!!"
The scream was followed by a flurry of splashes and outraged voices. Behind the misted glass, women grabbed towels to cover themselves. Steam blurred details—but not enough to stop the intent of the white-haired voyeur.
Akane staggered back, her face flushed crimson. "Y-you… what are you doing—!?"
Kusuo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Disgraceful. Absolutely disgraceful."
The white-haired man laughed nervously and bolted. "Run!!"
"After him!" Shigure barked, immediately leaping into pursuit. The three genin bounded after the fleeing figure.
Up close, Shigure caught clearer glimpses—long white hair tumbling down the man's back, reaching to his waist. A forehead protector branded with the kanji for "oil". Red streaks flanking his eyes. Loose red cloak over brown tunic. Sandals, wooden clogs, and arm guards.
Shigure's involuntary grin grew. No way… is this really—?
"I can't believe it," he muttered to his teammates while sprinting. "Peeping at women, broad daylight, in a peaceful village… That has to be Jiraiya of the Sannin."
The man snapped his head back. "Y-you've got it wrong! I don't know this Jiraiya you're talking about!"
But denial hardly mattered.
Shigure's voice rose, half-playful, half-provocative. "Senior Brother Jiraiya! I'm the disciple of Sarutobi-sensei's next generation!"
The white-haired man's stride faltered for a half-second, as if the name pierced through his excuses. Even so, he barked back: "I don't remember any brat brother like you! And how dare you call collecting literary inspiration 'peeking!' I was simply researching for my masterpiece! You kids just don't understand—art requires sacrifice!"
Shigure blinked. A perverted writer chasing "research material." Oh, this confirmed it beyond all doubt. The one and only Jiraiya—Toad Sage, one-third of the Legendary Sannin.
The chase ground to a halt when the man finally skidded to a stop. He whirled around, planting his feet firmly on the cobblestones. For the first time, he took a long, measured look at Shigure.
"Little brat," Jiraiya muttered, eyes narrowing. "You're more annoying than I thought."
Shigure smirked, chakra thrumming in readiness. Finally. Our paths really cross here.
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