"This sucks," Kenji muttered to the Blood Clone currently carrying the other end of the pile of boards. "It's hardly our fault they got away. Those Leaf ninja screwed it all up."

"Hey, no argument from me, boss," the Blood Clone responded. "I'd rather not waste my existence rebuilding a giant barn. We should be out tracking these guys down!"

"It's not a barn, it's a high-end resort," Mugiwara-sensei snapped, seemingly appearing out of thin air to scowl at her student. "And one which those missing-nin trashed. You know, the ones who got away because you weren't able to track them fast enough?"

"It was night and the whole damn forest was on fire," Kenji muttered. "And anyway, I still would have gotten their trail if those Leaf ninja hadn't wasted so much time."

"It's a poor workman who blames his tools, and a poor ninja who makes excuses," Mugiwara-sensei said virtuously. "Now hurry up and get those boards to the workmen, double time!"

"Yes, sensei!" Kenji and his Blood Clone chorused, shifting from their resentful trudge into a rapid trot. Mugiwara-sensei was no more happy about being stuck here than the team was, and none of them wanted to stress her temper any farther than it already was.

Two hours later, they had delivered two more palettes of bird's-eye maple boards for the workmen laying the floor, three of polished slate for the patio, and were helping Kashigawa gather up the flooring that had been crushed when the enemy created that giant pile of rock on the second floor. They paused in their labors as two men wandered by. The shorter, fatter one was clearly the owner. The tall, spare man beside him was the ninja commander for the region. The commander had a face like iron; it gave almost nothing away. Still, he was apparently irritated enough that some of the frustration was leaking. Or maybe he was showing it deliberately as subliminal messaging to the obnoxious little puffed-up toady that walked next to him.

"—a bit more than restoration," the commander observed. "I don't recall your patio being floored with a water-themed mosaic in sixteen colors of high-grade slate. Wasn't it simply flagstone? Your insurance policy did not cover improvements."

"Oh, no, that was absolutely the way it was!" the owner replied, his eyes wide in overblown innocence. It was just adorable when civilians tried to be deceptive. "Besides, we've been paying protection money for over a decade. These attackers didn't seem terribly subtle to me—they smashed the place! Destroyed it! While those very expensive ninja were on guard, no less. Surely we are entitled to proper reimbursement?"

The commander considered the man calmly. "My reports indicate that the enemy fought with kunai, taijutsu, and water- and earth jutsu. And that the fight happened in the main building. How exactly did the adjacent building which was, coincidentally, the older and less opulent of your buildings, end up on fire?"

"The guests in the first floor of the main building had an oil lantern burning," the civilian owner said earnestly. "It spilled when that giant rock wall landed on it, and the oil splashed over to the second building."

"I see," the commander said doubtfully. "How unfortunate."

"I know! Terribly unfortunate! Still, always some good with the bad, eh? We'll rebuild it and it'll be better—er, just as good as originally. Might even make some good advertising. Give people a shiver, staying in a place where there was a big important battle."

"I think—"

"Excuse me," said a new ninja, striding up. He was taller even than the commander and as wide as an oxcart with pale skin and spiky black hair. His lower face was covered in bandages and the hilt of a truly enormous sword stuck up over his shoulder. The thing was so enormous it could probably serve as a shield as well as a weapon.

"May I help you?" the commander said, one foot sliding back into a ready-but-not-threatening stance. He unconsciously placed himself between this unknown ninja and the pustulent little fraudster civilian who, unfortunately, was a good taxpayer and therefore due protection.

"Yes," the foreign ninja said, stopping a polite distance back and showing his hands unthreateningly. "I heard about the attack. Apparently one of the ninja involved wore a barrel on his back?"

o-o-o-o​

Jiraiya dropped into the chair with a tired sigh and put his feet up on the corner of the desk. He let his head fall back, eyes closed, and rubbed hard at the pressure points around his temples. He was getting too old for this crap; eight hundred miles in four days was hard on these old bones, and sleeping on the ground just made him ache.

Sarutobi Hiruzen, God of Shinobi, Hokage of Leaf, and teacher of Jiraiya and the other Sannin, cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at the feet on his desk.

Jiraiya didn't open his eyes, but he did move his feet.

"Are you quite through being dramatic?" Sarutobi-sensei asked a moment later, his voice studiously polite. Unless you had been his student for decades, in which case you could hear the subtle tone of snark underlying it.

Jiraiya groaned in response, but sat up.

"What have you got?" Sarutobi-sensei asked, calmly pouring a big cup of tea and passing it over. Jiraiya took a moment to breathe deep of the steam before sipping. Sensei always had the most amazing teas, and he remembered how much Jiraiya liked orange peel in his. His memory for those small details was one of the more overlooked causes for his rise to power. Well, that and being one of the most lethal men alive and a prodigiously skilled politician. But yeah, remembering people's tea preferences didn't hurt.

"Well, they came in," Jiraiya said. "No problem there. And yes, it was them in Hot Springs. After we split up in Iron they took the lead I gave them, went to Tea, and dug up the pangolin contract. The Mori girl got it, and the pangolin she summoned was loyal." He snorted, smiling. "And armed with weaponized cuteness." He shook his head. "Anyway, they picked up a couple more members somewhere along the way. First one was a girl, about fifteen, named Akane." He paused, waiting.

Sarutobi-sensei was sharp as ever; one eyebrow immediately shot up. "Ishihara Akane, the one that Mizuki framed?"

"The very same. Apparently they linked up back in Iron; she'd gotten mixed up with that Liberator crew."

Sarutobi-sensei gave him a very old-fashioned look. "I note that her name was not included in your earlier report."

Jiraiya shrugged unapologetically. "I wasn't going to put it in writing, but I'm reporting it now. She's a good kid and deserves a break." He grinned. "Although apparently she caught that 'youth' disease of Gai's."

Sarutobi-sensei was much too controlled to groan, but it was close. "Another one? I wonder if I should be talking to the other Kage about a non-proliferation treaty on that. Then I'd have an excuse to rein Gai in."

"Yeah, let me know how that goes for you," Jiraiya said. "I'm pretty sure the Sage himself couldn't rein Gai in."

Sarutobi-sensei nodded his tired agreement. "True. You said there were two new additions. Who was the other one?"

"Older guy named Kagome," Jiraiya said. "Seemed to have more than a few screws loose. Kept going on about 'lupchanzen farms' and 'scorch squads'. Mentioned secret labs where we vivisect kids."

"Hm," Sarutobi-sensei said noncommittally. "How bizarre. What else did he say?"

o-o-o-o​

"Again!" Nagatsuka-sensei snapped.

"Yes, sensei," Maaya said, forcing her voice to be steady despite her total exhaustion. She pulled chakra into her belly, molding it into fire and then squeezing the fire denser, hotter, thinner. She pulled in more and more of the chakra, adding it to the barely-contained explosion that floated at her center. Seconds later it was ready. "Breath of the Sun Dragon no Jutsu!" she shouted, cutting the handseals with as much precision as she could manage and releasing the power inside her.

The force that ravened up her throat and out of her mouth lived up to its name; even through her closed eyelids, Maaya's vision went white for an instant and when she opened them there were faint purple splotches floating across the world as though she'd just stared into the sun.

The other end of the target range was just...gone. The Sun Dragon had demolished the first tree, punched a hole through the second, set the third on fire, and thermal bloom had set everything in the general area to smoldering.

Her knees felt like they were about to collapse under her, but Maaya forced herself to turn smoothly to face her sensei.

"Hmmmmmmm," Nagatsuka-sensei said. "Adequate."

Maaya's face split in a grin. From Nagatsuka-sensei, that was high praise indeed.

"Come," Nagatsuka-sensei said, "I'm tired of sitting around. It's time for lunch." Translation: I can tell you're out of chakra and about to fall over.

Maaya's grin got wider. "Yes, sensei," she said. "Could we go for tempura?"

"Hmph." Level gaze. "Well...you weren't completely hopeless today. All right, we'll have tempura."

"Yaaayyy!" Maaya said, punching the air in excitement. She was too tired to actually skip along beside her iron-haired sensei, but she did manage to walk quickly. Her black ponytail bounced as she nodded along to a happy tune that she hummed. Nagatsuka-sensei absolutely, positively did NOT smile to see her young student so happy.

The sand on the path crunched faintly under their shoes as the two strolled back home. Nagatsuka-sensei let the silence hang in the air for some time before casually asking, "So, what's new with that boy?"

"What boy?" Maaya asked, panicking. "There's no boy! I don't know any boys at all!"

"Uh-huh," Nagatsuka-sensei said.

"I don't!"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, okay, I guess there's the baker's son. And Mr. Matokai's son. And...well, okay, I suppose I know a few boys. I mean, you know, I've seen them."

"Uh-huh."

"And they're all losers anyway. None of them can even do simple jutsu yet!"

"Uh-huh."

"I mean, I guess some of them can do a few jutsu, but nothing impressive like what you're teaching me, sensei!"

"Hm."

"Well, okay, except for Takao. But he mostly does seals like the others, so that doesn't count. And his jutsu all suck anyway."

"Hm?"

"Well, I guess the Forty Chains of Death is kinda okay."

"Hm."

"I mean, if you like that sort of thing." Dismissive sniff. "I guess he's got good finger action on his handseals."

"Mm-hm."

"Well he does! Really smooth. It's those long fingers, you know."

"Mm-hm."

"Um, oh...oh, look! There's Sugawara's! Let's hurry!" Maaya picked up the pace, rapidly leaving her teacher behind as she taught herself, as so many children through the ages had, that it was impossible to outrun embarrassment.

"Heh." Checking carefully to see that she was unobserved, Nagatsuka-sensei allowed her weatherbeaten face to crack a smile. There was a lot to be said for this private tutor business.