Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Tsunade's Heir ❯ Chapter 8 ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: I don't own the official Naruto. But my ideas are mine.

Chapter 8

Aftermath

The Houous had a long walk out of Konoha territory. On that walk, Tsunade moved with a forceful step. Chiefly amongst the emotions she felt were concern, sorrow, and anger. She was angry at both Konoha for what the village had done to Naruto, and at herself for letting it get as far as it had. She had a responsibility of love towards her son and she had failed it. It was that simple. And for Tsunade: excuses - valid though they may be - did not count for much in the face of that. The next patrol that crossed that path would report a trail of destroyed trees, boulders, and small rock faces that had, supposedly, gotten in the woman's way.

The air was heavy as the Houous trekked onwards - two conscious and one not - and met a fork in the road leading to a large town that they had stayed at once before.

Tsunade did not pause in her stride as she passed the town. “We're not stopping yet” was her only words.

It was not that she was realistically expecting trouble to follow them or any such thing not now that Naruto had a Sannin such as herself holding him. Rather, she just wanted to get farther away from what had wounded her son. Her unease would not diminish until they had doubled the distance. Shizune did not complain, though she had not slept or rested in over twenty-four hours due to the operation on Hinata's mother and the later searching, finding, and leaving with her Otoutou. But Shizune could not feel the pain in her feet, stomach, or back: the suffering within her heart was far too consuming.

Eventually, the Houous made it to a small, unexceptional village and rented the largest room they could - which was actually not large at all - at the only hotel that was opened that time of night. Through what remained of the night, Tsunade and Shizune stayed by Naruto's bedside. And when he regained consciousness in the morning, the boy was greeted by an array of reassurances such as “you did the right thing” and “those bastards won't lay another finger on you”, tight hugs, and tears right off the bat. For this: he was both very grateful and very relieved. It was noon by the time the Houous left the small hotel room. All were hungry, and made their way to the best looking restaurant the little town had to offer: where Tsunade forcibly demanded that they be served many plates of rolled omelette, rice, and miso soup. They were then told that those items were only offered on the breakfast menu and not now - at noon. Tsunade had only replied that was exactly the point and had then glared with such menacing promises in her look that the Houous soon found themselves being served breakfast for lunch. They spoke much, but not a word about Konoha was said over that breakfast and, finishing their meals, Tsunade and Shizune determinately led Naruto to the best day-late birthday party one could manage when one is still recovering from extreme blood loss, and with only one's sister and mother for company. That Naruto was not an emotional train wreck was a mark of inner strength and perseverance. Knowledge of the villagers' feelings about his existence was nothing new. His status as Kyuubi's container was never kept from him, never avoided by his family, and he had always had their acceptance. Even if a whole village would have him dead for that, it was a sure fact that his small but precious family did not feel the same. And so he tried to keep his self-image from being tainted by the words and actions of a mob. The civilians of his home village had attacked him, he was dealing with that. Time passed.

Naruto sat atop a high cliff, staring blankly at the expanse of town before and below him. It was not Konoha. Konoha had been left behind weeks ago, like a bittersweet dream…

He could scarcely think of the Hyuuga compound without smiling at his memories of playing hide-and-seek among other things with Hinata-chan. And the times they would spend talking, or enquiring about what the other were doing, and so on. The Hyuuga compound also brought to mind all the other Hyuugas who had made a prudent point of giving him - at least outwardly - the benefit of the doubt with regards to his `demonic' threat level: perhaps due to his family name as a Houou. Perhaps out of sheer, “Hyuuga”, almost stuck-up, discipline to authority and tradition.

He could scarcely think of that sandbox tucked against one side of the academy building without smiling at his memories with Sakura: building sandcastles, talking, and just plain having fun. Lastly…

He could scarcely think of the villagers of Konoha without an involuntary wince and furtively checking his surroundings.

Though he knew there would never be anything there, it was something he always did. Perhaps he was picking up his mother's sense of superstition... But on top of that stage, he had been at their mercy - of which they'd shown none. It was natural to retain a certain amount of uncertainty, he reasoned.

Actually, the town below him was in the midst of a festival. And he could not stand to be there, as if there was an actual, almost nauseating, physical force that repelled him. His adopted mother and sister were at the apothecary, which was open even on such a day as this. He doubted they knew there was a festival today, and even if they did know: he doubted they would expect his reaction to it. He was proud to be able to be supremely tough when he had to be, and it had been two weeks of concern and support already…

He was fine most of the time: he really was. He was as close to acting normal as anyone could hope for acting - most of the time. It's just that on days like today when he's alone…

A particularly strong wind blew. It was a much warmer day than the any seen the yet this week, but though Fire Country had a warm climate compared to others, it was the twenty-fourth of October, after all. The lone blond-haired boy pulled his knees up to his chest in response to the chilly wind. He'd left his customary white jacket at home: the geeky one that he'd found himself wearing for its simple functionality. His gaze remained blank as he stared at the village beneath him.

He only snapped out of his blank daze when he felt a newfound weight on his shoulders: a jacket? And it wasn't white.

“Yo, brat.”

“Ero-Uncle? You showed up…”

Jiraya sat down beside his nephew. Of course he'd shown up. The boy was probably surprised that he'd taken so long to appear, since the hermit had missed Naruto's birthday. The spiky haired Sannin indicated the jacket now draped on his nephew's shoulders. “Solid orange” he informed pointedly. “The single most extremely orange jacket ever designed in Grass Country - ever.” He'd gotten it out of a bargain bin. With the local “pumpkin day” celebrations over, no one had wanted to buy the damn thing. In-fact, perhaps no one had ever wanted to buy the damn thing: if the scandalous looks he had to endure were any indications. Yes, it was that orange. And he was hoping it would be just the thing to spark the kid right up.

Naruto smiled, “thanks Ero-Uncle. It's awesome.”

Jiraiya chuckled; glad to have more proof of how great he was at, well… damn near everything. At least, that was how it was meant to sound. Yet Jiraiya's laughter felt hollow in his own ears. “What, brat? That's it? No `it's the best birthday present ever!' or `you Ero-Baka, it's the wrong damn size!' No randomly screaming `orange!' until I get a headache? I just gave you the most orange piece of clothing you've ever seen…” Jirayia trailed off, now permitting himself to sound worried. “You didn't even flail around like a chipmunk on a sugar high. Naruto! Are you sick or what?” Though of course the Sannin knew what was wrong. Where else would he have been for the past two weeks than in Konoha? Arriving there a mere day late for his nephew's birthday, he'd come home to a living nightmare. Hearing what had transpired had been tough, but Jiraiya was tougher than that. Dealing with the aftermath was tougher, but Jiraiya - again - was tougher even than that. But that dull, melancholy look in Naruto's form pierced straight through any toughness the Sannin could have.

Naruto sighed and stood up. Jiraiya stood up as well, his form dwarfing the smaller blond.

Regardless, the boy held his uncle's gaze. “Ero-Uncle, I want you to teach me.”

Ah, Jiraiya thought, looking into blue eyes that had come to a resolution. Those eyes were tinged with sadness, fear, and reluctance, but Jiraiya could see the clarity of Naruto's decision in his unwavering gaze. Then… it's time.

Not having realistically imagined that the events of Konoha could have ever come to pass with such startling ease, Naruto had discovered that the world wasn't quite what he thought it was and - though he disliked the notion - he now perceived that he would need more than his mother's battle techniques if he wanted to be properly prepared for a future which now seemed so uncertain. He had never really limited himself to only his Kaa-chan's techniques. He had wanted to be able to fight, though he'd put healing skills first. In fact, he was pretty sure he still felt that way. But he had never felt a real necessity to `fill in the gaps' that were inherent in his mother's highly specialized skill set. Now he did.

Jiraiya believed that: in life, there were some lessons that - if learned on one's own - would have a greater value by sevenfold. He also believed that: in life, there were some choices that should be made on one's own. But he knew… in fact he'd always known that Naruto would come to make this choice eventually. The life of Arashi's son could not be easy, and neither could the life of a Jinchuuriki. When the boy grew up and invariably found himself in a valley surrounded by wolves, at least he could be armed to the teeth.

His face was caught somewhere between a grim frown and a grimmer smile as he nodded his assent. They would start on perfecting Karyuu-Endan.

“One thing first though” Naruto said, looking once more at the village below. “There's a…. festival in town and well…” the boy fidgeted, looking almost ill. “You want to go… eat some lunch or something?”

So, Naruto would choose to face down his fears now, to ensure that his decision was not driven by an underlying fear of weakness. It was odd how Jiraiya could pick that type of complex motive out of a few simple sentences, but there were certain aspects of Naruto that were so similar to his father. So similar, in fact, to Jiraiya himself. It would be my honour. “Hmm, fine” Jiraiya agreed aloud. “But we're stopping by the bath-house on the way”

“What? Is there even anyone who would keep a bath-house open in the middle of a festival? Ero-Uncle, every time I see you I become more convinced that you have some type of mental disease…”

“It's called `adulthood'”

“No, it's called `pathetic'. Now come on, let's get going. I'll even pay for your freeloading ass.”

Hmm, not bad. Jiraiya thought, noting the insult. It was a good sign. Many of the brat's insults were often too smart-mouthed to be thought up in a despondent mood. Naruto, I'll have you swearing off my ear by nightfall.

IIII

Hinata crouched in front of the counting tree: in front of her and Naruto's tree. She was in pain, as evident from the way she clutched at her heart. The longing look in her eyes was an easy tip-off that the pain was not physical.

“My daughter, is that you?” Hyuuga Hiatari asked, arriving on the scene. Ever since the `successful' surgery, her eyesight had gradually been returning, though not by much. But even this was a medical miracle, considering the many differences between Hyuuga eyes and those of anyone else.

Hinata turned to see her mother. “H-Hai, Okaa-sama, it is me…”. She was then taken into her mother's careful embrace.

“Are you in pain?” Hiatari asked softly

Hinata produced the most despondent mumble Hiatari could ever dread to hear. “H-He's… gone”

“Oh…” Hiatari said, as if she hadn't suspected the cause of her daughter's distress all along.

“I-I didn't… even get to s-say goodbye!” Hinata cried. It was a small point, that she could not have said goodbye. A small drop that could be recognized in a vast ocean of misery which she could not name. Her closest, one and only friend, her laughter, had left. Chased out of the village by those she thought would celebrate his existence. She'd known him for only months, yet time in that period had moved so slowly. It had been so precious.

Hiatari smiled in a way she hoped was encouraging. “Do not worry so much, my daughter. Perhaps there will be no need for `goodbye' at all.”

“Wh-What do you mean?”

“It's true that Naruto-sama's departure was...” the woman fumbled for a word that would not cause more pain, “sudden. Yet one day he will likely return and on that day: you two may play together again.” At least, I hope that will be the case. If Houou Naruto were to return and play with my daughter, then it would be a sign that he was amiable to peace with Konoha. Jiraiya of the Sannin himself had been working in the aftermath of that fateful night, according to her husband. Apparently, the Sannin had been working in the background to sow seeds of a path for Naruto's hopefully eventual return. But there was a whole village whose collective view needed to be changed, or at the least: shifted. “At any rate, your father asked me to tell you… it's time for your calligraphy.”

As Hiatari watched her daughter nod and walk off, she couldn't shake the feeling that the girl looked so ill... “But he said that, today, you must create only the most beautifully styled informal letter. He'll make sure it's delivered properly,” Hiatari smiled sadly, “it won't be like the ones you sent Naruto-sama before: where they weren't delivered.”

Wide-eyed, Hinata sprinted off without so much as a “goodbye, Okaa-sama”

That day, the Hyuuga heiress holed herself up in her calligraphy room for two hours straight.

IIII

“Alright, let's get this started then brat,” Jiraiya stood: stomach apparently full to bursting with nephew-purchased food and drink. The pair had returned to the same high cliff where they had met earlier in the day. The tree line was a good twenty fifteen paces behind them, and provided them with productive scenery. Good feng-shui and all that.

(A/N: feng-shui is the practice of placement and arrangement of space which is claimed to achieve harmony with the environment)

Naruto stood in front of him, face somewhere between one of careful attention to the speaker and a flat look that said “I can't believe it. Did you actually eat that much just to spite me?” But he was - after four hours of immersing himself in festival scenery - feeling much more `over Konoha' now. A strange notion to him, as he'd thought he was already `over Konoha'.

“Now, the first order of business is to find out why your idiot self can't perform a single Karyuu-Endan.”

“Shut up!” This is the guy I invite along for emotional support?

“So student,” Jiraiya said, pointedly ignoring Naruto's glare. He really seems to be doing better now. Perhaps he really was more down than normal because of the festival. Naruto… it's not easy to keep you down at all, is it? “We're going to go into the theory of Karyuu-Endan a bit more. Its uses should be obvious even to a dimwit such as yourself. It's a projectile attack which can have its uses `tweaked' a bit. For instance, it can really have a wide spread. Kunai are fine I guess… but a good Karyuu-Endan is just better. As far as projectile jutsu go, it's damn fast too. So! When was the last time you tried it?”

“Sensei, I have a question” Naruto raised his hand. “Do all teachers insult their students every other sentence, or is it just a perverted loser thing?”

“Do you want me to teach you or not!”

Naruto didn't miss a beat. “Well, I don't really want to learn from a guy like you,” he proclaimed, throwing in a thoughtful sounding voice for effect. “But you're the only one here and you taught my father after all, so…”

“Arashi was a thousand times more respectful than you!”

Naruto cockily raised his hand again. “Sensei! Then have you become a thousand times more useless since back then?”

“Naruto!” Jiraiya yelled angrily, scowling and pulling the boy's face up to his own. Whereupon, his voice dropped to a whisper “we're being watched”

Thud!

“What!” Naruto spun around. He came face to face with the very image of an assassin-specialist ninja. The lanky form had not a spot that wasn't covered in black cloth or the midnight visor hiding the stranger's eyes.

Thud! The sound was repeated seven more times, and as many more black-covered figures dropped out from the tree line. Naruto back stepped in surprise, but became painfully aware of just how close he was to the edge of the cliff. Shit!

Jiraiya smoothly slid in front of his nephew. “No headbands. Renegades? Sneaking up on me and Naruto… that's an impressive feat. But do you really think you can take me?”

Naruto's eyes were still wide: to the boy this whole situation seemed so surreal; things had been so normal seconds ago. Naruto swallowed the lump in his throat and steadied his footing. These guys had revealed themselves in the middle of such a moment of normalcy, the parallel between that and the assassination attempt he'd dealt with at his and Sakura-chan's sandbox two weeks ago was not lost on him. They're probably… here for me.

Eight figures launched a cloud of kunai in a sparse flicker of motion.

“Doton: Daichi Hada Tate!” That Jiraiya could perform the earth shield technique in the time between the assailants preparing to throw, and the time the kunai reached him was a testament of skill. There was a corresponding series of thuds as the kunai lodged in the thick and well chakra-reinforced curved shield, though it was not much taller than Jiraiya himself. It was strong enough to handle projectiles such as kunai and shriuken, but how long would this barrage last before higher-grade artillery was pulled out?

Naruto had a sinking feeling in his stomach when the thuds of kunai did not let up. They were outnumbered, eight to two. His uncle was said to be quite formidable, but he'd never actually seen the man fight. Either way, Naruto knew he would have to do something. But what could he do? They were pinned down to the spot. Damn! He had one option: one desperate option. Maybe his uncle wouldn't need his help and it would all be for naught, but he wasn't going to take that chance.

Rat, horse, tiger, dog, ox, dragon, horse, hare… tiger!

The quiet, long drag of air alerted Jiraiya to the boy's plan. Karyuu-Endan? The kid's strong, but he knows he's not fast enough to land a hit. A good choice, but can you do it Naruto?

Naruto's gaze became intense in its sharpness as he neared the end of his moulding. Slowly, his eyes closed as his mind became even more intensely focussed. Like this, the world shrank down to him and his targets. Over the whisper of his own breath intake, he thought he heard a crackling in the back of his mind. It was getting louder. This… is all I can do. In fact, I probably can't even do this, but there's no way I won't try. It's either this or stand back and be helpless. No, I refuse! Like hell I would do something like that! Closer… that crackling, what was it? It was tough, but he was focusing on his moulding and managing to keep a bead on the eight assassin's chakra sources at the same time. In his mind's eye, the picture of blankness was now inhabited by nine blue flames: his mental representation of chakra sources. And still… that crackling was getting louder, yet Naruto had no time for such frivolous details. Please… Naruto begged to himself Work!

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl yet suddenly, the crackling was so much more than just that. It was a blazing roar as Naruto felt the presence of a hallucination he'd never forget arrive with vicious speed at his back… and waited. He did not turn to see the fire dragon behind him: poised to pounce, but he knew that it was there… waiting for something.

Naruto's eyes snapped open and glared at his opponents with a frightening intensity Katon: echoed the boy's mind, Karyuu-ENDAN!

Naruto's head and indeed, his entire body snapped back from the recoil as hell was let loose in a breath.

The fire dragon `missile' did not roar in freedom, it only sizzled the air and blazed its way in a punch through the back of Jiraiya's shield with no perceivable difficulty at all. It met even less resistance as it punched through a black-clad ninja and forest-line beyond. All in an instant.

Jiraiya was startled at the sheer focus displayed in the jutsu. It was not large by Karyuu Endan standards, but its power was concentrated to an extreme. However, the silver haired man's surprise was clamped down on in the next split-second. Jiraiya snapped his head to his nephew's location. The boy was wide-eyed, surprised at the force of his own technique, but yet more surprised at the kickback which was sending him flying the short distance off the edge of the cliff.

The silver-haired man launched himself to the cliff's edge with an arm outstretched. Too little, too late. “Naruto!”

He was on the verge of launching himself downwards off the cliff face, catching his nephew, and dealing with the landing in some last-second plan, but was interrupted by a sight he hadn't expected.

Naruto looked more grave than the toad-hermit had ever seen him. “Hurry and pull me up, Ero-Baka” he demanded, standing on the side of the cliff easily, and grabbing his uncle's still dumbly outstretched arm, “we've got some bad guys to toast”

Jiraiya broke out of his doubly-surprised look with a “tche”. So Naruto had finally finished the tree-climbing exercise. He easily hoisted his nephew up but held his wrists in place to forestall yet another Karyuu-Endan.

Naruto shot his uncle a look demanding an explanation. Every second of inaction was a second where they were little more than human-shaped target practice props.

“They… aren't real.”

“What?.!”

Jiraiya smiled a proud smile -as if Naruto had passed some type of training regime with exceptional results- and the black-clad ninja behind him de-henged in puffs of smoke, revealing... yet more Jiraiyas? Impossible.

A nearby frog croaked oblivious to the impending violence. It was the only sound made in the vast seconds it took for everything to sink into poor Naruto's mind.

“B-Bunshin no jutsu?” Naruto yelled, between disbelieving shock and equally disbelieving outrage. “Bunshin no #(-#$) jutsu?” he then roared. “You bastard! Is this some kind of #(#-#$ up revenge for that prank I pulled?.!!” he yelled, incensed beyond imagining.

Surprisingly, Jiraiya actually paled in the face of his nephew's rage, which was radiating levels of anger and violence at `pissed off Tsunade' like magnitudes. “N-No, no,” he placated. “This is training, I swear. Like your father, you pull out all the stops when you're backed into a corner, so I…”

“Ero-Uncle… Y...You… Y-You…!”

“Er…” Jiraiya didn't like the way his nephew's voice seemed to echo with malcontent. “Well you did it, didn't you? That Karyuu-Endan!”

“That's true” Naruto admitted, yet did not decrease his glare. He had been worried for his and his uncle's very lives. “But I swear to god I will make your life a living hell for the next five days” the blond said gravely before drawing back, craning back his head, and shooting a look at his uncle down his nose that proposed that Jiraiya really had no idea what level of horror he was in store for. “Be prepared… to repent in your misery, Ero-Yarou.”

-

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Omake

There were many questions that were not answered that day on both sides. Naruto wanted to know how a Bunshin could create such a level of chakra-output, and Jiraiya wanted to know just what was up with Naruto producing a Karyuu-Endan of such force. However, these questions would have to wait a day or so, as more… pressing matters were at hand.

“Tsunade! Tsunade for the love of all that is good, help me!” a battered Jiraiya yelled desperately as he approached his old team mate in the middle of the shopping district. The man and his clothes looked like they had just been through a meat grinder and lived to tell the tale. “Please!” he frantically begged. “Please!”

Tsunade raised a delicate eyebrow at her former team mate. Her silent question of `what have you done now?' was answered in the form of approaching hordes of angry women… from all sides. “Oh” Tsunade said. “You want me to get Naru-chan to stop, huh?”

“He's been leaking information to them!” Jiraiya insisted, yelling over the menacingly approaching crowd. “He's been organizing them! Help me! Save me!” Jiraiya felt the cold surface of a glassy store-front window at his back through the rips in his tattered clothing and the man knew fear. “He's turned them into vicious monsters!”

Some of the women noticed Tsunade who, compared to Jiraiya, was on the complete opposite of the respect-spectrum for her glorious additions to female pride everywhere. Seeing attention focussed on her, Tsunade knew it was time to make a choice. She chose her son, of course. “Oh, Jiraiya. Every time I catch you, you repent your perversity and I foolishly believed you. Yet for four years now you have been trying to corrupt my son, and use him to aid you in your deranged, daily tasks…” It helped that the villagers didn't know about Naruto's status as a Jinchuuriki. In fact, Outside of Konoha, most villages in fire country actually didn't know about her son's connection with Kyuubi: a feat accomplished by a deal she'd extracted from her old Sensei before she'd left Konoha that fateful day she'd adopted Naruto as her own.

Screams of “What!”, “Unbelievable!”, “Inhuman!”, and “Enemy of women and children everywhere!” were heard repeatedly from the increasingly violent din of the female crowd.

“Yes” Tsunade fake-lamented. As if her Naruto would give in to the old pervert's corruption! “And I had been willing to forgive and forget. I had thought that you would change! I thought you truly cared for the one you would call nephew, but it's become so clear that you only care… for yourself!” Tsunade only regretted that she wasn't as good at getting the pervert into trouble as her son was. The boy was capable of taking such acts and breaking it down into a science. Once or twice, he had gone so far as to research new words, and then practicing them in a written speech, all for the sole purpose of using them to prank or insult his uncle.

And now it seemed that the boy was moving into an even more terrifying pervert-punishing strategy.

Jiraiya, and indeed most male shinobi, had an iron, unspoken rule of refraining from using ninja techniques to either incapacitate or escape civilian women, lest they be gossiped about and shunned by the female half of the world. Because, simply, in Jiraiya's experience: female civilians knew how to hold a grudge if you didn't either talk them out of wanting to hurt you or accept your punishment `like a man'.

But back to the subject at hand: Jiraiya was frantic with terror. The wall of angry women was closing in by the second.

Creak!

All movement paused as to glass door just to Jiraiya's right opened and a group of men walked into the street, and therefore, into the middle of the closing ring of women intent on bodily harm.

The men who were, it turns out, but the first of a stream of males leaving the shop froze solid as the situation and tension in the air became known to them.

It was then that Jiraiya spotted the books many of them were carrying. The orange covered novel was easily recognizable as his precious creation of mass perversion.

Comrades in arms! He smiled, realizing that the shop window he was now pressed against must indeed belong to a book store that had only just stocked his newest novel not less than an hour ago at twelve o'clock noon.

Wait. Wasn't that too convenient? The situation suddenly reeked of either irony or fate getting ready to kick his sorry ass, and Jiraiya's smile started to fall.

“Ah! Jiraiya-sama!” one man greeted reverently, clutching his copy of the book close to his heart. “You're latest-”

Anything further the man might have said was cut off by the sound of a sickeningly sweet voice “A-na-ta?”

Oh dear. The man noticed his wife in the crowd, hid the book with masterful swiftness, realized exactly the situation that was underway, shot Jiraiya an apologetic look, and dutifully grabbed the large broomstick his wife daintily handed to him with a smile on her face.

Oh shit! Jiraiya's mind screamed as the scene was repeated with only some variation for every man that left the bookstore. Even men that weren't romantically involved with anyone were somehow coerced onto the side of the female crowd. The market street became full to bursting with women that each insisted they wanted to get at least one, solidly satisfying slap or kick in personally and men that really had no sane choice but to refer to Jiraiya strictly as an “enemy of women everywhere” and act like they wanted to get at least one hit in as well, whether they actually felt like that or not.

A thought occurred to Jiraiya. Really, compared to what happened to his nephew two weeks prior, this was less than nothing. These people were not the sum populace of a village out to kill him, and they were mobbing him after he had actually done several perverted things and not after having saved one of their own. These women were angry as hell, but not truly hateful with the ferocity that Konoha had been. Yet he still didn't see why he had to endure this hell! “I repent!” he desperately cried, hoping that wherever the boy was, he could hear his heartfelt pleas for mercy. The crowd closed in. “I REPENT!”

Shizune turned to her Otoutou, who had just arrived on the scene with her. “Did you hear that, Naruto-kun?”

Naruto made a reluctant sound. “Yeah, I suppose I can just let him off the hook after today… It's not like I have anything that can top this. That Ero-Baka won't fall for this a second time and I don't really want to spend any time thinking of something new… I did complete my Karyuu-Endan today, too, I guess….”

Shizune smiled at the boy, feeling - god forbid - sympathetic to the painful pleas for mercy coming from the frog Sannin's location, such as “No, not there I beg you!” and “That doesn't come off! That doesn't come off! Stop trying to rip it off!”

Tsunade looked thoughtful at what her son had just said. “No” she disagreed. “You know, I really think you should just go for the whole five days” she said with glee. “Why not? Hell, I'll help you”

“T-Tsunade-sama!”

“Huh? Really, you'd help? Well, planning would be a lot easier…”

“Sure, of course. Just tell me what you need me to do, Naru-chan. It's about time that perverse idiot got his proper punishment…”

“You can't do that!” The Houou's discussion was once more cut off. “That's my writing hand! I'm an author!”

“What? He's an author?” one woman asked, not having known this

“Yeah, he writes ecchi novels” another woman responded

“Break that hand!” the first woman immediately responded in way of instruction

“W-WAIT!” Jiraiya interrupted. Surprisingly, people actually did wait to hear the man out. He addressed the real driving force behind his current pain, the women. “It's become clear that I'm going to die today. So you all should at least do the decent thing and flash me some flesh so I can go to heaven with a smile.”

Jaws dropped.

Suddenly, half the men - the married half with wives in the crowd - had much, much less difficulty becoming enthusiastic about kicking Jiraiya in painful places.

“Um, Kaa-chan. You know, I really think just today will be enough and honestly… I think it'll be a little dangerous for Ero-Backa's health if he gets hit at all in the next few days. M-Maybe I went too far, he might be in casts or something…”

“What, just from this?” Tsunade asked incredulously. “This is nothing to that guy. He's just being whiny.” Tsunade was going to say more, but she was rudely interrupted by a high-pitched scream

“The pain! Oh the pain!”

“Tsunade-sama… I don't think it would be wise…”

“Oh, nonsense. He's done his endurance training. And you can't tell just by looking at him, but internally he's fine. That idiot reinforces his internal defence by moulding chakra right underneath the surface of his skin so only the top looks hurt, really”

“What?” Naruto exclaimed. “That… that cheater!”

“Exactly, see? Don't you want to punish him more? Huh?” Tsunade prodded

“Tsunade-sama! Stop trying to force Naruto-kun into things!”

“Sure, let's do it Kaa-chan”

“Otoutou!”

“That's my son!”

“Tsunade-sama!”

“Just one more day, though. I'm stopping after tomorrow…”

“Sigh… well, I guess that's enough then. It's just that this looks so much more satisfying than merely punching him when he's perverted…”

“No! You two are going too far! Otoutou, you have to-”

“By the way, Shizune. I didn't tall you did I?” Tsunade rhetorically asked. “Jiraiya actually is planning on teaching Naru-chan some more techniques but he wants Naruto to help him be perverted in return”

“…” silence from Shizune. Her head tilted downwards and her hair fell over her eyes and cast them in shadow.

“Oh that? Was he actually being serious? Shit, I don't want to but…”

“…”

“Don't worry, Naru-chan, we'll get him to change his mind somehow.”

“…”

“I suppose... but how?”

“Tomorrow: We rain suffering down upon Jiraiya-sama” Shizune finally spoke out in the form of a growl: uncharacteristically promising Jiraiya's fate as a painful one in a surprisingly dark tone. “We'll keep going until he `changes his mind'.”

“Heh, I knew you'd see reason Shizune. I didn't take you on as my apprentice for nothing, after all.”

“What? You never said anything like that before, Kaa-chan. You're just making stuff up!”

“Oh, when will the pain stop?! When will you have mercy?”

End.

The omake just kept dragging out longer and longer.

Actually, at first I hadn't been planning to have an omake: I didn't think I had an idea for one and I wasn't willing to wait until I had one to post this chapter. But then my muse whispered inspiration into my ear and so there is an omake after all.

Jinchuuriki is the title for a demon container in the Naruto world

The -yarou suffix is really impolite. Think `baka' but harsher and not specific to a person's intelligence and more to do with them being a… well, `jerk' would be a… 'milder' word…

Doton:Daichi Hada Tate means Earth Release/Art/Style: Ground Body Shield

Anata means `you', but can also mean `dear' like what a wife would call her husband.

Ecchi is perverted or lewd

Thanks for the reviews last chapter. I hope you all know that I can't have perfect chapters all the time…

As always, the feedback has been quite helpful.

This was a little rushed, I wanted to get something out and my writers block was starting to really tick me off: so I just charged through it with great gusto, if I do say so myself.

Please Review