"...The repair cost comes to 50,000 ryō, sir."
Nara Kazuki stared at the smiling man in front of him, the overseer of the training grounds, and his expression twitched. Behind him, half the viewing stands were scorched black, melted into charcoal. Gritting his teeth, Kazuki reluctantly handed over the money from his savings.
Another hit to his already threadbare finances.
He hadn't expected that the Great Fire Dragon Jutsu, after quadrupling its area of effect, would not only dig a crater but also incinerate nearby seating. Frankly, 50,000 ryō sounded like a bargain.
Still, this confirmed it—he was done training in the village. From now on, the wilderness would be his dojo. No one cared if you leveled half a forest.
"Hey Kazuki, how much chakra did that fire dragon just cost you?" Kakashi grumbled, ruffling his now-curlier hair. He gave Kazuki a deadpan look.
This bastard had definitely done it on purpose.
Payback for the last spar, when Kakashi had almost landed his Thousand Years of Death. Clearly, Kazuki had been holding a grudge ever since.
"Not much. Totally normal." Kazuki lied with a straight face, although he was secretly pleased. The jutsu's effects were fantastic. The blast radius alone had been massive.
"You sure?" Kakashi asked suspiciously, repeating one of Kazuki's favorite phrases.
"Sure. Truer than pearls. If I'm lying, you can chop me with a watermelon cleaver." Kazuki flashed a grin, spinning his training blade dramatically.
Because he'd been focusing on upgrading ninjutsu, his Hatake Sword Style hadn't hit its next threshold yet. A shame. He was close.
Kakashi squinted at him. Screw the watermelon cleaver—he'd rather just jab him with another Thousand Years of Death.
"So... how long now?" Kazuki dropped his voice and asked seriously.
Kakashi shook his head. Even he didn't know exactly—just that Kushina's due date was near.
Kazuki nodded thoughtfully.
So it really was any day now. Once the village lifted the alert, Kushina would likely have given birth.
What Kazuki really wanted to know, though, was—had Obito managed to get the intel?
If Kazuki's interventions had worked... maybe the Nine-Tails Night wouldn't happen at all.
And if not—well, he'd prepared for that too.
After paying off the damages, Kazuki returned home, sprawled on his bed, then stretched and sat up again.
"Time to train!" he shouted to himself, bouncing up with renewed energy.
But just as he was about to start, a familiar voice called out from outside.
It was Jiraiya, and he sounded very smug.
Kazuki's eyes lit up. He rushed to the door and threw it open.
There stood Jiraiya, grinning from ear to ear, with Nara Shikaku beside him. The clan head smiled politely.
"Big bro! Chief!" Kazuki greeted them enthusiastically. His relationship with Jiraiya had grown a lot more casual lately, so his titles had gotten... looser.
"I'll let you two chat," Shikaku said with a twitch of the eye.
Every time Kazuki called Jiraiya "big bro," it gave him a headache. This was one of the Legendary Sannin, one-time candidate for Hokage.
Originally, many had thought the Fourth Hokage would be one of the Sannin. But with Tsunade having left the village and Jiraiya declining the role, it had ultimately gone to Minato. Then Orochimaru... well, Orochimaru had taken a different path entirely.
Now, to see Jiraiya and Kazuki acting like old drinking buddies while he had to still call Jiraiya "Lord Jiraiya"? It was a weird reversal of social order.
Kazuki was aware of the awkwardness, but he figured it wasn't that bad. He'd seen worse—like old men in the countryside calling toddlers "uncle" because of weird ancestral lineage hierarchies.
"Brother Kazuki! The royalty checks from Make-Out Paradise are in!" Jiraiya beamed, pulling out a fat money pouch.
Kazuki's eyes gleamed. He knew what this was.
"I'll skip the boring accounting talk. Long story short: you're getting one million ryō!"
He hadn't even drunk any tea, but if he had, it would've sprayed everywhere.
"One. Million." Jiraiya confirmed, eyes sparkling with joy. He himself had been stunned by the sales but was mostly just thrilled.
Kazuki's hand trembled slightly as he took the pouch.
A million ryō. That wasn't just "buy a house" money—that was "retire and never worry again" money. He could eat ramen at Ichiraku every day, toss out the second bowl untouched, and still not run out.
"I was shocked too," Jiraiya chuckled. "And the publishers said once international distribution begins, the sales will spike again. For now, the Fire Country market's just about saturated."
Kazuki nodded slowly.
"Big bro... you didn't give me extra, did you?"
Jiraiya shook his head. "Nope. This is exactly your cut. Half of the royalties went to you. The book made two million—so one for you, one for me."
Kazuki was honestly touched.
Jiraiya might be a shameless pervert, but when it came to business and friendships, he was solid.
He hadn't tried to cheat Kazuki, hadn't tried to shave a cut off the top. He just paid it forward like it was no big deal.
Kazuki had seen too many people fall out over money—siblings, friends, even blood relatives turning into enemies over a few bills. But Jiraiya? He split two million ryō like he was handing over a pack of gum.