"Eat that, Rasengan!"
Jiraiya angrily hurled the water balloon to the ground and stomped on it twice, as though it were his worst enemy.
"That feels good," he muttered, flicking his white hair back as he strolled toward the tent with a sideways gait.
From the posture and pace, it was obvious where he was headed — Orochimaru's tent, most likely looking for… physical comfort and stimulation.
Minato stood alone behind the bushes, hair and clothes fluttering in the wind, watching with a wry, helpless smile.
"Ha, that's just like my teacher," Minato said. "Hayashi, don't mind him. He'll be back sooner or later."
Hayashi just blinked quietly. In his mind, the sound of Jiraiya's outburst was like the world's most fragrant smell — something impossible to escape.
Hayashi's voice continued, "By the way, how's your Rasengan training going?"
Minato lifted his hands in exasperation, "Still the same. I can only use it awkwardly. I have to make a Shadow Clone first… and I just don't have enough chakra yet."
In this world, what restrains a genius isn't talent, it's chakra capacity. No matter how gifted someone is, without a large chakra reserve, a jutsu is worthless. That's why Naruto's ability to use Multi Shadow Clone Jutsu early on was unheard of — he had an immense chakra pool.
Minato understood Rasengan thoroughly and could use it, but he could barely muster it effectively in combat.
"It's okay," Hayashi said, patting Minato's shoulder. "Practice more. One day you won't even need Shadow Clones to form it. In two years, our bodies will go through rapid growth and our chakra will increase significantly."
A sudden chirping — sharp and electrical — broke the moment.
"Chidori," Hayashi murmured. Of course he recognized the sound. The technique creates a high-pitched noise, a hallmark of lightning-natured chakra concentrated in a hand.
"That should be Mikoto," Minato guessed.
"…Yeah. Let's go check."
They followed the sound and soon spotted Mikoto under a heavy boulder. Her hand crackled with fading electricity, tiny arcs still jumping sporadically in the air.
Minato watched Hayashi approach with concern.
"Were you guys training hard while I was away?"
Minato replied, "Well… there weren't many missions at the base, so the three of us mostly rested. I usually practice Rasengan in the mornings until noon. My chakra runs out and if I push too much, my hand feels beaten up."
Hayashi nodded. "A-rank ninjutsu always carries risk. That's why only Jonin-level shinobi are qualified to train it. High-level techniques push the body and chakra to their limits."
Then Hayashi turned toward Mikoto, his expression serious.
"…Mikoto," he called softly.
Mikoto forced a smile as he approached. "Hayashi… I did it. I actually formed the Chidori for the first time."
Hayashi raised an eyebrow. "Then let me see your right hand."
She extended her arm obediently, rolling up her sleeve. Under the cloth, layers of bandaging appeared.
Hayashi carefully unwound the bandages. Underneath, her forearm was fair and slender, but the veins bulged unnaturally like thick cords under her skin.
The meridians were in bad shape.
Anyone familiar with chakra flow could tell — this was damage caused by overexertion and improper training. Even Minato, whose chakra reserve was limited, could feel the toll from a morning of Rasengan practice. Electric chakra — lightning nature — was one of the harshest on the body, burning through physical tissues when pushed too hard without proper conditioning.
Hayashi exhaled. "Does it hurt?"
She nodded, tears glistening. "Yes. I saw a medical ninja, but they said only Tsunade-sama can treat this properly. At the time, she was at the front lines with the alliance, leading troops… so I planned to talk to her after I came back."
Hayashi breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, Tsunade didn't have hemophobia. Otherwise, they'd need to heal Tsunade before healing Mikoto — and that would make things far worse.
Mikoto blinked, tears slipping. "I'm sorry, Hayashi. This is all my fault. I pushed myself because… because I didn't want to be weak."
Hayashi lifted her chin gently. "Mikoto, listen — this isn't your fault."
She blinked up at him, voice breaking, "But… I couldn't keep up with you. I thought if I trained enough, maybe I wouldn't be a burden."
Minato watched Hayashi's face soften, his eyes sincere.
"I'm sorry too," Hayashi said quietly, "for always being ahead. You all train at your own pace. Strength doesn't mean harming yourself."
Mikoto sniffed, expression trembling. She was gentle by nature, but the pressure to grow stronger — to stand beside someone she cared for — pushed her beyond what her body could handle.
"I just… want to protect, not be protected," she whispered.
Hayashi lifted her arm and wrapped it in fresh bandages. "I understand. But protectors can't be broken. You train smart, not reckless. That's the real strength."
Minato, watching, felt something flutter in his chest — a strange pang of emotion, awkward and unfamiliar.
"Should we take you to see Tsunade-san now?" Hayashi asked softly.
Mikoto nodded, eyes shining with gratitude.
Minato turned away, heart pounding. "Why did I even come over here? I'm just… caught off guard, that's all."
A gust of wind blew, making his hair sway.
"Hayashi always knows exactly what to say," Minato murmured to himself.
_____
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