Naruto: Faint Smile - CH 97

[Takeshi POV]

It had been a little bit over a month since Jiraiya sensei taught me the Rasengan, and ever since, he has put me to train the technique, day and night

“Good job,” Jiraiya muttered without looking up from his book.

I rolled my eyes at him, as the sound of swirling chakra hummed faintly in the air, as the Rasengan formed effortlessly in my palm. The sphere spun with controlled precision, the chakra compressed tightly as it glowed with faint blue light. It was fascinating, really—such a simple concept, yet endlessly complex in execution.

Jiraiya-sensei sat a few feet away, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and a smug grin on his face. “Not bad, kid. And all thanks to me.’”

I glanced at him briefly, my faint smile still in place. “It’s been a month, Sensei. I’d hope I’d made some progress by now.”

“Progress?” Jiraiya snorted, shaking his head. “Jokes aside… You practically mastered it the first day. This is more like polishing a diamond at this point.”

I dispersed the Rasengan, the glow fading from my hand. “And yet, you’ve had me repeat the same exercise every day since then.”

“Repetition builds mastery,” Jiraiya said, wagging a finger at me like he was imparting some ancient wisdom. “Fear not the man who has a million techniques but the one who trained with one a million times.”

I tilted my head slightly. “That’s very wise old man, then again… maybe you just enjoy watching me work while you lounge under a tree.”

“Hey, don’t knock the methods of a legendary Sannin!” Jiraiya shot back, pointing dramatically at himself. “Everything I do has a purpose. Even if it’s a purpose you’re too young to understand.”

“Of course,” I replied evenly, though inwardly, I couldn’t help but wonder how much of that was true and how much was him simply winging it.

Before I could dwell on it further, Jiraiya stood up and stretched, his movements slow and exaggerated like he was preparing for some monumental task.

“Alright, kid, that’s enough training for now,” he said, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulders. “Pack up your stuff. We’re leaving in a few hours.”

Well that was sudden.

I blinked, tilting my head again. “Leaving? For where?”

“The Hidden Mist,” he said, his grin widening like he was excited about the prospect.

That got my attention. The Mist wasn’t exactly known for being a welcoming place. In fact, it had a reputation for being one of the most brutal of the five great nations, especially with its history of the infamous “Bloody Mist” Academy.

They weren’t the strongest in terms of military but by reputation alone they sure were the cruelest.

“What’s the occasion?” I asked, curious.

Jiraiya waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, just some business I need to take care of.”

I raised an eyebrow, my faint smile still in place. “Business?”

“Yes, business,” he repeated, his tone defensive.

I considered his answer for a moment. When Jiraiya-sensei said “business,” it could mean one of two things: actual work involving the safety and security of the village, or… perving on women under the guise of “research.”

Perhaps both, now that I thought about it.

“And this business,” I began, “is it the important kind or the kind that involves you getting chased out of a hot spring?”

Jiraiya scowled, his hands on his hips. “Do you have any faith in me as your sensei?”

I considered his question for a moment before replying. “I’d say about fifty percent, give or take.”

Jiraiya groaned, throwing his hands in the air. “Ungrateful brat! Do you know how lucky you are to have me as your teacher?”

“Extremely lucky,” I said with a faint nod. “Though I’m still trying to determine if that luck is good or bad.”

He glared at me for a long moment before breaking into a chuckle. “Alright, I’ll give you that one. But seriously, we’ve got a mission. And yes, it’s real work this time. No hot springs involved… probably.”

“Probably,” I repeated, my tone as even as ever.

Jiraiya ignored the jab and began pacing, his expression turning more serious. “The Mist is… tricky. There’s always something going on there, and it’s rarely good. I’ve been keeping an eye on what's happening inside, and I need to confirm some information I’ve been hearing.”

I nodded, taking in his words. The Mist was notoriously secretive, and more than not, their internal conflicts often spilled over into dangerous territory. If Jiraiya thought it was worth investigating, there had to be more to it than he was letting on.

“Understood,” I said simply.

“Good,” Jiraiya said, clapping his hands together. “Now go pack your stuff. And don’t forget to bring that cat of yours… though I recommend having your summons taking care of her.”

I glanced toward my backpack, where Tsuki, was lounging on top, licking her paw without a care in the world. “Tsuki comes with me,” I said firmly.

If I had the need to send her elsewhere I would do so… but for now, I was operating under the mindset that said: I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

“Fine, fine,” Jiraiya muttered, waving me off. “But if she claws up any of the scrolls, it’s on you.”

“Duly noted,” I replied, picking up my bag and placing Tsuki inside it. She let out a contented purr, curling up as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

As I began gathering my things, I couldn’t help but think about the journey ahead. The Mist was a long way from here, and if Jiraiya was right, it wouldn’t be a simple visit. Whatever business he had there, I had a feeling it would involve more than just observation.

Still, I couldn’t deny a small flicker of curiosity and excitement. The Hidden Mist was infamous for its unique shinobi techniques and brutal training methods. Perhaps this trip would be an opportunity to learn something new.

And if nothing else, it would be interesting to see how Jiraiya handled himself in a place where his usual antics might not be so well-received. Not that they are ever well received, but I imagine women in Kiri are far for aggressive, so there’s that.

As I finished packing, I glanced over at Jiraiya, who was busy scribbling something into one of his notebooks. Most likely “research” for his next book, if I had to guess.

“Sensei,” I said, drawing his attention.

“Yeah?” he replied without looking up.

“Do you think this mission will be dangerous?”

He paused, his pen hovering over the page, before finally looking up at me. “Takeshi,” he said, his tone serious for once, “every mission has the potential to be dangerous. The Mist is no joke. Their shinobi are skilled, and their politics are… more than messy. But I wouldn’t take you with me if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

I nodded, appreciating the honesty. “Understood.”

“Good,” he said, his grin returning. “Now hurry up. We leave in two hours, and I’m not waiting if you’re late.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who’s late 90% of the time.”

“Do as I say, not as I do!” he shot back, pointing a finger at me.

“Of course, Sensei,” I replied, my faint smile still in place.

As I slung my backpack over my shoulder and adjusted the straps, I couldn’t help but feel a small spark of anticipation. Whatever awaited us in the Mist, it was bound to be an experience. And if nothing else, it would be amusing to see how Jiraiya navigated the complexities of a nation as chaotic as its reputation.