"That's right!"
Jiraiya spoke with firm conviction, his tone resolute. "Even though the ninja world is full of conflicts now, I believe that one day, people will learn to understand each other!"
This was his ideal—his lifelong belief. He was even willing to die for it.
Menma and Kuro Kakashi exchanged glances.
They both knew what the other was thinking.
Mutual understanding? Between everyone?
That kind of future would never come. It went against human nature.
Even in the Empire, after His Majesty had used his overwhelming power to reshape the ninja world into something more structured, there were still remnants of the past who longed for the old ways of the ninja village era.
But those people were considered relics of a bygone age—left behind by time. A joke to most.
At best, they murmured their discontent in private. But if faced with His Majesty, they wouldn't dare say a word.
"Jiraiya-senpai," Menma said, looking thoughtful. "How do you think we can achieve mutual understanding between people?"
Having ideals was fine. But the real question was: how did he plan to achieve them?
Without a solid plan, ideals were nothing more than empty dreams.
"This..."
Jiraiya hesitated, suddenly feeling embarrassed.
"This might be something only the Child of Prophecy can solve."
If he had an answer, why would the Child of Prophecy even be needed?
"I see..."
Menma nodded slightly but didn't let up.
"Then, Jiraiya-senpai, you say mutual understanding is your dream. What have you done to make that dream a reality?"
"...!"
Jiraiya was speechless.
He suddenly realized what Kuro Kakashi had meant earlier.
Naruto—this kid was smart.
Too smart.
His questions were too sharp. So sharp that they cut deep—leaving Jiraiya without an answer.
"You didn't do nothing, right?" Menma tilted his head innocently.
No way, right?
Did his father's former teacher really do nothing but spout empty ideals?
"Of course not!" Jiraiya wiped sweat from his brow. His breathing grew rapid. "I—I have always taken my role as a teacher seriously. For example, the three students I trained in the Land of Rain... and the Fourth Hokage! He was my student!"
Yes! That was it! He had done something.
"The Fourth Hokage?" Menma frowned slightly. "But the Fourth Hokage died twelve years ago. Since then, have you taken on any new disciples?"
"...!"
Jiraiya was drenched in sweat.
No, Naruto—could you stop asking such difficult questions?
This was exactly like Minato back in the day.
But Minato's questions were usually about jutsu or training, things Jiraiya could answer.
Menma's questions, though?
They cut to the core of his ideals.
What had he been doing these past twelve years?
Tracking Orochimaru? Sure.
But besides that?
…Traveling? Gathering information? Writing books?
That was part of the Great Toad Sage's prophecy.
But could he honestly say that was all he had done in twelve years?
"Ahem, Menma," Kuro Kakashi stepped in, sensing Jiraiya's struggle. "Master Jiraiya is one of Konoha's strongest shinobi. He must have been undertaking various classified missions outside the village."
"Ah! Yes, yes!" Jiraiya wiped more sweat from his forehead and shot Kuro Kakashi a grateful look.
Good save, Kakashi!
Without him, Jiraiya might've just died of embarrassment.
Confidential missions...
Phew. Hopefully, Naruto wouldn't press further.
But deep down, Jiraiya felt guilty.
If this had been during the war, it wouldn't have been a lie. He had carried out countless S-rank missions back then.
But after the Third Ninja War ended, his so-called "missions" had mostly been personal pursuits.
"Secret missions, I see," Menma nodded.
But in his heart, he had already come to a conclusion.
Jiraiya—one of Konoha's Sannin and his father's former teacher—had essentially wasted the last decade.
He talked about his dream of peace, yet he had no concrete plan.
No strategy.
And no action.
"Hmm..."
Menma turned his gaze forward, noticing a commotion up ahead.
"It looks like something's happening. Let's check it out."
The Chaos at the Shop
At the entrance of a rundown shop, a rough-looking wandering samurai stood with a large bag of stolen bread. His pockets were stuffed with money.
He sneered at the frail old woman in front of him.
"Get lost, old hag! Keep whining, and I'll cut you down right here!"
The elderly shopkeeper, hunched over and dressed in tattered clothes, trembled.
"You... You already took the food... Why do you have to steal the money, too?" she pleaded.
She understood if he was starving and had to steal to survive.
But why take everything?
How was she supposed to live?
The samurai scoffed. "So what if I take your money too? You should be grateful I didn't kill you!"
Ever since their leader, Gato, had fled, he and the other hired thugs had been left stranded in the Land of Waves.
With no money and no purpose, they had resorted to looting.
"Hey!"
Jiraiya stormed forward, furious. "You robbed an old woman and still have the nerve to act tough?!"
"None of your damn—"
The samurai turned to snap at Jiraiya, but the moment he saw Kuro Kakashi and Menma, his face drained of color.
With a loud thud, he dropped to his knees.
"Forgive me, sirs! I was wrong! I'll give everything back!"
Jiraiya blinked in confusion.
Menma chuckled.
"He must be one of Gato's men," he explained. "Back when we fought on the bridge, they all ran for their lives. I'm guessing they never went back to him."
The samurai trembled.
Damn it!
Why were these monsters still here?!
"You're a grown man with two working hands and feet," Jiraiya scolded. "Why resort to robbery?!"
"You're right, sir! I'll never do it again!" The samurai groveled.
"Fine. Return the money and food." Jiraiya waved dismissively.
"Yes! Right away!" The samurai frantically emptied his pockets, returning the stolen goods.
Then, he turned to leave.
"Wait," Menma called out.
The samurai froze.
Menma stepped forward, his golden hair swaying in the wind. His blue eyes gleamed with something unreadable.
"You said you had no choice but to steal. But why not earn money instead?"
The samurai gulped. "I—I don't know how..."
"Then learn."
Menma's voice was cold.
"Work in the fields. Help rebuild the village. Protect people instead of stealing from them."
The samurai hesitated.
For years, he had only known how to follow orders, kill, and steal. The idea of honest work was... foreign.
But looking into Menma's piercing gaze, he felt like his soul was being weighed.
"...I understand."
Menma nodded.
"Good. Now go."
The samurai bowed low and scurried away.
Jiraiya crossed his arms, watching Menma with interest.
"You're quite something, kid," he said.
Menma simply smiled.
Jiraiya's dream of peace?
It wasn't impossible.
But dreams meant nothing without action.
And Menma—unlike Jiraiya—was willing to act.
End of Chapter
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