Jiraiya and Naruto

At dusk in the Hidden Leaf Village, the setting sun sank heavily toward the rolling western ridges, staining the clouds on the horizon a shocking dark red, like blood from the earth-shaking battle that day had been splashed across the sky and had yet to dry.

The air was still filled with a faint smell of burning, smoke, dust, and the vague tang of blood. Even far from the worst-damaged areas, the killing chill and sorrow after the great battle followed like a shadow.

Downstream of the Naka River, near a quiet riverbank not far from the village.

Jiraiya's tall figure walked ahead, his steps steady.

All along the way, Naruto kept his head lowered, his footsteps a little dragging. He was completely different from the boy who was usually bursting with energy, as if he had never known what exhaustion was.

His orange tracksuit was covered in dust and ash. A few fine, uncleared scratches and traces of smoke still marked his face and arms. Those bright blue eyes that always shone so vividly were now dim, clouded by a heavy confusion, and he merely followed mechanically behind Jiraiya's towering back.

Along the way, Jiraiya spoke up several times, trying to comfort Naruto.

He brought up a few amusing things from the past, some ridiculous experiences from when the Sannin were young, and even hinted at matters concerning companions and choices.

But most of the time, Naruto only listened in silence, occasionally giving an "Mm," or answering briefly, "I know, Pervy Sage," his voice muffled and listless.

After they passed through the last sparse stretch of trees, the view suddenly opened up before them, revealing a somewhat desolate clearing surrounded by tall trees.

It seemed to be a training ground abandoned for many years.

In the open space at