As the atmosphere grew heavy, Jiraiya suddenly spoke, uncharacteristically serious. "Old Man, Tsunade, I have an idea."
The two looked at him.
Jiraiya's gaze turned distant. "I want… to take that kid Naruto as my student."
The words left Hiruzen Sarutobi and Tsunade momentarily stunned.
Jiraiya went on, expression grave. "Whether the heavenly screen is real or not, the Nine-Tailed inside Naruto is. He's Minato and Kushina's child; for their sake I can't turn my back on him. Besides…"
He paused, voice dropping. "If there's even the slightest chance the future it showed comes true, guiding Naruto onto the right path—keeping him from falling into darkness—is absolutely critical!"
"No one's better suited for that than me. I can teach him to control Chakra, help him understand what it means to be a Ninja, and at the same time… keep him close, figure out what might cause any drastic changes in him."
Jiraiya looked at Hiruzen. "Old Man, leave him to me. I'll take full responsibility."
Tsunade folded her arms, offering no objection.
She had nothing against Naruto himself—only misgivings about that "future."
If Jiraiya wanted to grab this hot potato, she was happy to let him.
Hiruzen pondered for a moment.
Entrusting Naruto to Jiraiya was far better than merely keeping him "protected" inside the Hokage residence.
Jiraiya's strength was enough to guard him, and his vast experience and unique teaching style could benefit the boy.
More importantly, as Jiraiya had said, his identity made him the most suitable guide.
"All right." Hiruzen finally nodded. "Jiraiya, Naruto is yours. Be sure… to lead him toward the light."
"Relax, Old Man." Jiraiya thumped his chest, his trademark slightly lecherous yet reassuring grin returning. "When it comes to teaching the Child of Prophecy, I'm the professional!"
The instant the words "teaching the Child of Prophecy" left his mouth, Tsunade looked as if she'd heard something absurd; disdain and mockery flashed across her face.
"Child of Prophecy?" she sneered, arms crossed, eyes sharp on Jiraiya. "If some damn prophecy really exists, does that mean every step, every choice from birth to death, is already written in a script?"
Her voice rose, anger barely contained. "Should I go check that prophecy book to see what time I wake up tomorrow, when I eat, when and how I'll die? What's the difference between that and a puppet on strings?"
"Tsunade! You're being extreme!" Jiraiya's face darkened. "A prophecy is just a vague guide, something we can prepare for—"
"I don't care what it is!" she cut him off, eyes icy and firm. "I don't believe in prophecies, and I sure as hell don't believe life is a straight, unchangeable line drawn from start to finish!"
"The heavenly screen claims someone will destroy the world—should we kill that person right now?"
Tsunade stepped closer, staring straight into Jiraiya's rattled eyes, her tone grave. "And Jiraiya, you put too much stock in Mount Myōboku and those toads!"
"As if every offhand remark they make is some irrefutable truth, as though without their guidance the Ninja World would stop turning and Konoha would crumble!"
Her words were blunt, striking straight at Jiraiya's near-blind faith in the prophecies of Mount Myōboku.
Jiraiya opened his mouth, face alternating between pale and flushed.
Deep down he revered the Toad Sage's prophecy; it had guided his life for decades, and he had wandered the Ninja World half his life searching for the Child of Prophecy.
Yet he also knew the pain Tsunade had endured.
The deaths of her little brother and her lover made her loathe words like "fate" and "prophecy."
He didn't want—couldn't—argue philosophy and destiny with his old friend now, and could only sigh in frustration, awkwardly falling silent.
Hiruzen, who had listened quietly, slowly nodded. "Tsunade has a point."
He drew on his pipe, exhaled thick smoke, eyes wise and deep. "The human heart is the most complex, unpredictable thing in the world."
"A sudden thought, meeting someone by chance, even a careless remark can lead a person to a completely different choice, creating unforeseeable ripples in the future."
He looked at Jiraiya, voice calm but carrying weight. "How could such a life—woven from countless chances and choices—be fixed by a vague "prophecy"?"
In truth, Hiruzen nursed grievances against Mount Myōboku.
Because of one old toad's prophecy, his powerful student spent years away, rarely serving the village, pouring immense effort into searching for a so-called Child of Prophecy.
That alone irked him as Hokage and felt like a waste.
He even thought with annoyance: If that fool Jiraiya found the supposed Child of Prophecy in another great nation, would Konoha have to pour resources into nurturing a foreign Ninja, forging a future enemy—all because of a toad's word? Ridiculous!
Jiraiya's belief was challenged; Tsunade scoffed at the idea of "destiny"; Hiruzen preferred to trust in human agency and choice.
In the end Jiraiya could only fall silent.
Yet which of them hadn't reached this level through iron will?
Each had carved their convictions through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, overcoming countless trials.
Hiruzen's governance, Tsunade's defiance of fate, Jiraiya's guardianship of prophecy—these were the pillars of their lives, fused into their very souls.
They could not be shaken or changed by a single office argument or a few sharp words.