Naruto: Faint Smile - CH 99

[Takeshi POV]

The inn Jiraiya-sensei chose was everything I expected—a cheap, small, and faintly questionable place. The wooden sign above the door creaked ominously in the wind, and the paint on the walls was peeling like it had been losing a battle with the mist for years.

“This,” Jiraiya announced as we stepped inside, “is what we in the business call cozy.”

I glanced around the lobby. A single desk sat against one wall, manned by a tired-looking clerk who barely glanced up as we entered. The air smelled faintly of mildew, and the floorboards creaked with every step.

“Cozy,” I echoed, my faint smile still in place.

Jiraiya strode confidently to the desk, slapping some ryo down with a flourish. “One room, please. Two beds.”

The clerk looked at us, then at the ryo, then back at us again. His gaze lingered on Jiraiya’s loud shirt and my orange wig. He didn’t say anything, just took the money and handed over a key with an annoyed sigh.

“Room 3,” he said flatly, before returning to his book.

We made our way down the narrow hallway, the faint scent of damp rotten wood growing stronger with every step. When we reached our room, Jiraiya unlocked the door and pushed it open with a dramatic flourish.

“Behold, our humble abode!” he declared.

The room was… functional. Two small beds sat on opposite sides, their blankets a dull gray, that I imagine at one point were white. A tiny table with one wobbly chair stood in the corner, and the single window was so fogged up I couldn’t tell if it was day or night outside.

“Home sweet home,” I said, setting my bag down near the bed on the right.

Tsuki hopped out, sniffing the air before jumping onto the bed and curling up like she owned the place. I envied her ability to adapt so quickly.

Jiraiya, meanwhile, flopped onto the other bed with a sigh of satisfaction, folding his arms behind his head. “Perfect! Now, let’s get down to business.”

“Business?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jiraiya sat up, pulling a folded map from his bag and spreading it out on the table. He motioned for me to come over, which I did, standing beside him as he pointed at two marked locations.

“Alright, kid. Here’s the deal,” he began. “We’ve got two informants in this village. They’ve got intel we need, but for obvious reasons, I can’t meet with both of them at the same time.”

“Obvious reasons,” I repeated, my tone neutral.

He either missed the sarcasm or ignored it entirely. “You’ll be meeting with one of them while I handle the other.”

I leaned over the map, examining the locations. One was on the outskirts of the village, marked as “Drains.” The other was smack in the middle of what could only be the red-light district.

I gestured to the map. “Let me guess. I’m going to the drains?”

“Exactly!” Jiraiya said, nodding like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“And you’re going to…” I paused, pointing to the red-light district.

“Purely for work purposes,” Jiraiya said quickly, holding up a hand like he was swearing an oath. “Not pleasure.”

I stared at him, not believing a word he was saying. “Of course.”

“Hey, don’t give me that look,” he said, waving a finger at me. “A kid like you would stand out like a sore thumb in a place like that.

Besides, my contact there is… let’s just say, someone I’ve known for a while. They won’t talk to anyone but me.”

“How convenient,” I said.

“Look, I don’t make the rules,” Jiraiya said with a shrug. “I just follow them.”

“Right.”

He ignored my skepticism and tapped the map again. “The contact you’ll be meeting is reliable, but cautious. They’ll only talk to you if you give them this.”

He reached into his bag and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. I took it, tucking it into my pocket without comment.

“And you’ll meet them here,” he continued, pointing again to the outskirts. “The sewage system is tricky to navigate, so stick to the path I marked. Don’t wander off.”

“Understood,” I said.

“Good,” Jiraiya said, leaning back in his chair. “We’ll head out first thing in the morning. Get some rest tonight—you’ll need it.”

I glanced at the room again, then back at him. “Rest. Right.”

Jiraiya didn’t seem to notice the irony, already pulling out one of his notebooks and scribbling furiously. I decided not to ask if it was mission-related or another draft of his “research.”

Instead, I returned to my bed, sitting down. Tsuki shifted slightly, watching me with one half-opened eye before dozing off again.

The thought of navigating the drains wasn’t exactly appealing, especially considering my sense of smell was very developed, but I could push my personal preferences aside for the sake of the mission.

Still, I couldn’t help but feel like he was getting the better end of this deal. But he had a point, my age would make me stand out like a cat in a dog house.

—-------------------------------------------------

[The next morning.]

Morning came earlier than I would’ve liked, the faint light filtering through the fogged-up window doing little to dispel the gloom of the inn. Tsuki was already awake, perched on the edge of the bed and grooming herself with the meticulousness of someone who had nothing better to do.

Jiraiya-sensei, on the other hand, was not awake. He was sprawled across his bed, snoring loudly, his arm dangling off the side like he’d passed out halfway through reaching for something.

I considered letting him sleep, but we had a mission. And besides, there was only so much snoring a person could endure before taking action.

“Sensei,” I said, my tone even as I gave his bed a nudge with my foot.

Nothing.

“Sensei,” I repeated, nudging harder.

This time, he stirred, mumbling something incoherent before opening one bleary eye. “What…? Is it morning already?”

“Yes,” I replied, stepping back as he groaned and sat up. “And you’re the one who said we should leave early.”

“Right, right,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “Gotta practice what I preach.”

I didn’t point out that he rarely did. Instead, I began gathering my things, double-checking the map he’d given me the night before. The drains weren’t exactly my idea of a fun destination, but orders were orders.

As I adjusted my bag, Jiraiya shuffled over, looking more awake now. “Before we head out,” he said, his tone unusually serious, “there’s something we need to take care of.”

I raised an eyebrow, watching as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small scroll. He unrolled it with practiced ease, revealing a set of intricate seals drawn in black ink.

“You’ve been making great progress these past few months,” he said, his voice steady as he looked at me. “I’ve been keeping an eye on how you’ve adapted without your chakra sensing.”

I tilted my head slightly.

“Back when I put this seal on you,” he continued, tapping the scroll, “it wasn’t because I didn’t trust your abilities. It was because I wanted you to push past your reliance on them. Sensing is a tool—a damn good one—but it’s only one part of the whole. You can’t let it be a crutch.”

I nodded, understanding his point. When Jiraiya had sealed my chakra sensing months ago, despite knowing why he had done so, it had been a frustrating adjustment. I’d felt like I’d lost a part of myself, like I was operating with one hand tied behind my back.

But over time, I’d adapted. I’d trained harder, focused on other aspects of my skills, and learned to rely on more than just sensing to read a situation.

Jiraiya gave me a small grin, holding up the scroll. “I think you’re ready now.”

He gestured for me to sit, and I complied, lowering myself onto the edge of the bed. Tsuki watched curiously from her perch, her tail flicking lazily as Jiraiya began to work.

The seal he’d placed on me had been on the back of my neck—a subtle mark that I’d barely noticed after the first week. As he knelt behind me, I felt the faint brush of his fingers as he touched the seal, followed by a slight flare of chakra.

“Alright,” he said, his tone focused. “This might tingle a bit.”

I felt a small pulse of energy, like a gentle spark, as the seal deactivated. There was a brief moment of disorientation, like stepping into a room that was suddenly too bright.

And then, like a dam breaking, I could feel everything once more, crashing onto me like waves.

The world around me shifted. I could feel the faint ebb and flow of chakra signatures nearby—the clerk at the front desk, a handful of other guests in the inn, even a stray cat prowling five hundred meters to the east. It was like seeing in color after months of grayscale.

“So, how do you feel?” Jiraiya asked, stepping back.

“Amazing,” I replied.

“Good,” he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “But remember—just because you’ve got it back doesn’t mean you should lean on it too much. You’ve got a lot more going for you than just your abnormally good sensing. If you let any aspect of your skills become a crutch, there will be a time where an enemy will exploit it. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t,” I said, and I meant it.

Jiraiya grinned, stepping back and rolling up the scroll. “Alright, then. Let’s get moving. We’ve got work to do.”