The Hokage Building.
Jiraiya pushed open the wooden door, the gourd of sake at his waist clinking brightly.
The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, was fretting over the mountain of paperwork on his desk. Through the smoke curling from his pipe, he looked up and saw the disciple he was proud of.
"Hey, old man, still doing paperwork?" Jiraiya plopped down in a chair nearby, grabbed a snack from the desk, and stuffed it into his mouth. "Keep working yourself like this, and those old bones of yours are going to fall apart."
"Then hurry up and take over my position," Hiruzen Sarutobi replied, giving Jiraiya an exasperated glance.
Truthfully, the one he'd had the highest hopes for had been Orochimaru. He just hadn't expected that prized disciple to hide such a thing from him, then ultimately defect from the village.
Thinking of the once exceptionally gifted disciple, a trace of barely perceptible sadness flickered across the Third Hokage's eyes.
Jiraiya noticed the change in his teacher's mood. For once, he dropped his usual irreverent manner and broke the silence with a light cough. "Give it a rest, old man. Your position comes with way too much pressure. I couldn't handle it."
Hiruzen Sarutobi snorted and didn't press him. He knew what his disciple was like. If he really became Hokage, he probably wouldn't be able to sit still for more than a few days.
"What did you call me back for, old man?" Jiraiya asked around a mouthful of snack, brushing the crumbs off his purple coat.
Hiruzen Sarutobi set his pipe aside, his expression turning grave in an instant. "Something strange has been going on with the Uchiha Clan lately."
Hiruzen Sarutobi slowly explained what had happened.
"Hey, old man, isn't this just because you've always been wary of