Jiraiya's Gift

The next morning, at the training ground.

For once, Jiraiya had not gone to the bathhouse. He stood beside a wooden post at the training ground, holding a small pouch. It was not a ninja tool pouch, but one made of gray cloth, with a toad pattern stitched onto it. The stitches were crooked, as if he had sewn it himself.

"Come here, kid. I've got a gift for you."

Ringo walked over. He had not activated Steam yet, but Jiraiya's expression made him turn off the card slot's scan. It was not because he feared being seen through—it was because there was no need to scan. When Jiraiya was serious, his eyes lacked the murkiness they had when he was peeping at the bathhouse.

"What's this?"

"A Toad Sage chakra stabilizer pouch. It's nothing impressive, just a scrap of cloth. But it's been soaked in Mount Myoboku's toad oil. Put your cards inside, and the risk of failure during synthesis will go down. It's not foolproof—the risk drops from half to thirty-five percent. You'll still have to rely on yourself."

Ringo took the pouch. The cloth was rough, but it was not cold to the touch—it was warm. Not with body heat, but with the warmth of the toad oil itself, like it had been soaked in warm water and then left to dry.

"Why give this to me?"

"Because the old man Third Hokage told me to look after you." Jiraiya leaned against the wooden post. "And because you blew yourself up on the roof yesterday. I heard it all the way from the bathhouse. Two roof tiles shattered, right?"

Ringo's hand paused.

"You could hear sounds from the roof while you were in the bathhouse?"

"Not hear. Sense. Sage sensing. The moment your Steam exploded, the chakra fluctuations were so huge that every sensory ninja in Konoha could have noticed them. Lucky for you, the sensory types were all asleep. Except me. I was working, even in the bathhouse."

Ringo had no intention of asking what exactly that work was.

"How do I use the pouch?"

"It isn't as simple as putting them inside. First, you need to learn how to stop the things inside you from fighting. Synthesis itself isn't the problem. The problem is that when you're synthesizing, ice and fire, wind and sound waves—they aren't being fused by you. You're forcing them together. Keep pressing them together long enough, and your hands will get sore. Once they do, things explode. The pouch helps save you some effort. But first, you have to learn how not to force it."

Jiraiya straightened. He held out his right hand, palm open. There was no chakra in his palm, yet Ringo sensed something. Not chakra, but something beyond chakra. The air above Jiraiya's palm grew thick. Not hotter—heavier.

"This is the power of the toads. Not Sage Mode, but the foundation of Sage Mode. Natural energy refined from Mount Myoboku's toad oil. Only a tiny amount, though. It won't turn you into a toad. It will only give you an extra buffer during synthesis. It doesn't help you fuse things—it gives the fragments more space between them. Ice and fire don't have to press so close together. Put a layer of toad oil between them, and they won't fight."

Ringo held out his hand. Jiraiya placed his palm against the back of it. He was not passing on chakra, but letting Ringo sense that feeling of thickness. The air grew heavier. It was not oppressive—it was enveloping. Like he had been held in the mouth of an invisible toad.

"Feel it?"

"Yeah. It's not hot. It's thick."

"Right. Thickness is a buffer. When you're synthesizing, put that thickness into the card slot. You're not adding material—you're adding patience. Give the fragments a little more patience between them, and the success rate goes up by ten percent. Not the success rate shown in the system data, but the fragments' own willingness. They don't want to fight either. You've just been forcing them to."

Ringo withdrew his hand. He hung the stabilizer pouch around his neck, next to the Sage Mode Fragment Jiraiya had given him yesterday. He opened the card slot. The Steam Fragment, Sound Wave Fragment, and Boil Release Fragment were all glowing. He tried placing the Sound Wave Fragment and Steam Fragment into the synthesis slot together.

They did not fuse. They merely drew closer, with a layer of toad oil's thickness between them.

A line of text appeared in the system.

"Synthesis Path B—Adventure (55% success rate)—Execute?"

Ringo selected "Yes."

Inside the synthesis slot, the two fragments did not crash into each other as they had before. They did not collide—they approached one another, then stopped at a certain distance. The Sound Wave Fragment circled the outside of the Steam Fragment once. It was not fusion, but enclosure. Wrapped in sound waves, the Steam changed from gold to silvery white. It had not become colder—it had become sharper. The sound waves had not vanished; they had hidden within the Steam.

"Steam Toad Refinement—Stage Three—Effect—Auditory Interference + High-Temperature Burns—Dual Effect—Duration—Thirty Seconds—Cooldown—Five Minutes."

It was not an upgraded version of Steam Ninjutsu. It was something new. Steam and sound waves were no longer fighting. They were together. Not because they had been forced together, but because they wanted to be.

Jiraiya watched Ringo's card slot. Though he could not see the system panel, he could see the change in the Steam. Silvery-white vapor rose from Ringo's palm. Its temperature was lower than before, but its penetrative power had increased by more than several times.

"That's about right." Jiraiya clapped his hands. "Here's some advice for the finals: don't overthink it. Your synthesis doesn't depend on thinking. It depends on gambling. But not blind gambling. It's the kind of gamble where you trust your own formula. When you gamble, don't think about the success rate. Think about whether you believe those two fragments belong together. If you believe it, gamble. If you don't, change the formula."

Ringo put away the Steam.

"Have you ever... believed?"

"Of course I have." Jiraiya smiled. "I've believed in prophecies. In my students. In an idiot who said he'd become Hokage. I've even believed in a woman who said she would never gamble again. Some bets I lost. Some haven't even begun. But when I believed, I believed. Not because of the success rate, but because the formula was right."

He pulled a book from his pocket. It was not a ninjutsu scroll, but Make-Out Paradise. The cover had been thumbed to pieces, its corners curled, with a note torn from somewhere tucked inside.

"This is for you. Not so you can read what's inside, but so you can learn how to do the right thing at the right time. Though I get it wrong most of the time."

He stuffed the book into Ringo's hand. Then he turned, took two steps, and stopped again.

"Oh, right. The Third Hokage said you have a girlfriend, from the Hyuga clan. Don't deny it. Every time she's mentioned, your chakra turns gentler. Just now, when I said 'gamble,' your Steam was still sharp, but its temperature dropped by half a degree. It wasn't a loss of control—it was gentleness. If your Steam can retain that gentleness in battle, then that will be the strongest Steam. Not Steam that kills—Steam that protects."

Ringo did not answer. But his grip on the stabilizer pouch tightened slightly.

Jiraiya left. At the entrance to the training ground, he looked back at Ringo.

"Don't lose the finals. Not for me. For the one who makes your chakra gentle."

Ringo lowered his head and looked at the card slot. The stabilizer pouch hung against his chest, the Sage Mode Fragment beside it, while two golden fragments glimmered faintly next to the cloth pouch. It was not battle, but waiting. Waiting for the finals, waiting for everything that was meant to come.

He opened Make-Out Paradise. The first page was not the text itself. It was a line Jiraiya had written on the title page.

"Not so you can read what's inside. So you can learn how to do the right thing at the wrong time. Though I've never done it right. But you can."

The handwriting was sloppy. The ink had bled in two places, and a drop stained the edge of the page. Not tea, probably alcohol.

Ringo set Make-Out Paradise aside. But he kept the stabilizer pouch.