Toward Sunagakure, dusk along the border was especially long. The setting sun dyed the sand blood-red, and the figure of the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, appeared particularly desolate amid the wind and sand. The hem of his Hokage robe snapped in the dry, scorching wind.
"Lord Hokage! Why have you come here in person?"
Sarutobi Zhenxin hurried forward, fine beads of sweat forming on his forehead. As the deputy commander of the frontline forces, he had never expected the Third to pay a sudden visit. What unsettled him even more was that their commander was currently—
"Where is Jiraiya?" Hiruzen's voice was hoarse and weary, as though he had not rested properly in a long time.
Sarutobi Zhenxin's Adam's apple bobbed. "He..."
"Speak." Hiruzen's gaze suddenly sharpened, and the aura of the "Professor" made the surrounding air seem to freeze.
"Reporting to Lord Hokage, Lord Jiraiya... went drinking." Sarutobi Zhenxin lowered his head, his voice growing quieter and quieter.
Silence fell. Only the sound of sand pelting the tents echoed around them.
Hiruzen closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the sharpness in his gaze had faded. "Take me to him."
"Yes!"
The only tavern on Sunagakure's border sat in the shadow of a weathered rock formation. Its battered sign swayed in the wind, creaking loudly. When the door was pushed open, a heavy stench of alcohol rushed out.
In a corner, a white-haired man slumped beside a wine barrel, with seven or eight empty bottles scattered at his feet. His iconic red outer robe hung wrinkled around him, and his face was flushed an unhealthy red.
"You... hic... do you know what the Will of Fire is?" Jiraiya raised a bottle with bleary eyes and spoke to the air. "Where the leaves dance... the fire burns... the firelight