. . .
Their hands separated.
Jiraiya sighed, rubbing his temples as if physically trying to massage away the shame that had just settled on his shoulders. His fingers briefly twitched toward his kunai pouch, then curled into a fist at his waist.
"What the hell am I doing…?" he thought bitterly. "Jiraiya the Gallant. One of the Legendary Three. Extorted.... by a runt who hasn't even hit his growth spurt."
He exhaled hard and glared at the boy, voice clipped and restrained.
"All right, kid. I held up my end. Now honor yours. Give me back my wallet."
Lumian lit up, eyes sparkling as though he'd just been praised. "Of course, gramps!"
Before Jiraiya could correct the insult, Lumian had already darted over to the kitchen counter and flung open an overhead cabinet. Inside was a lopsided cardboard box filled to the brim with what could only be described as "shinobi clutter."
Right in front of the Sannin, Lumian began digging through it with zero care for what went flying. Rogue wallets hit the floor with dull slaps. Kunai clattered as they rolled across grimy tiles. A small puff of dust rose from the disorganized mess as scrolls and old trinkets tumbled out.
Jiraiya blinked, speechless.
"Hm… where is that fat little sucker... I know I left it—ah-ha!"
Triumphantly, Lumian yanked out a wallet that looked like it had just been rescued from a landfill. It was partially torn, damp at the edges, and faintly smelled like miso soup.
He jogged over and held it up like a sacred relic.
Jiraiya's face twisted in disbelief. "Y-You kept it in a kitchen cabinet?! Right next to moldy dishes and what I hope isn't a dead rat?!"
Lumian gave him a flat look. "Would you have checked there?"
Jiraiya opened his mouth. Closed it. Then shouted anyway.
"That's not the point, you little devil!"
Lumian twirled the wallet on his finger. "You want it or not? I can keep it safe for another week if you'd like. It's grown on me, really."
Jiraiya snatched it from the boy's hand like a hawk catching prey. He tore it open immediately, and almost dropped it.
"MY MEMBERSHIP CARDS?! They're torn! My hot spring punch card—I was one visit away from a free soak!! And, wait, where's most of the cash?! This is lighter than a Genin's allowance!"
Lumian leaned lazily against the table, resting his chin in his palm.
"Interest tax," he said with a tired sigh. "You should've kept better track of your belongings, old man."
Jiraiya glared. "Interest tax?! I'm not a damn loan office!"
Lumian shrugged, completely unfazed. "You can't put a price on life experience. Think of this as a lesson."
The Toad Sage muttered a curse under his breath as he tucked the ruined wallet back into his robes. Arms crossed, jaw clenched, he glowered down at Lumian with the look of a man betrayed by karma.
"You know, I could still report you."
Lumian raised an eyebrow. "You could."
"But I won't," Jiraiya muttered, glancing away. "Only because if this story ever got out, I'd never hear the end of it."
Lumian grinned. "Exactly. A win-win."
Jiraiya's eye twitched.
. . .
He calmly took a deep breath, steadying himself.
"Calm down, Jiraiya... it's just a kid… a harmless little kid…"
He muttered the words under his breath like a mantra, massaging the bridge of his nose. Then, as if flicking a switch, he straightened up and put on a more composed, easygoing expression: a strained smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The effort was obvious.
He gestured loosely toward Lumian.
"Alright, let's forget about my wallet for now... Let's talk about you. Since you clearly know who I am, it's about time you returned the courtesy. Name, please. House guest rules."
Lumian perked up with a toothy grin and gave an exaggerated bow.
"But of course! My name is Rock L—"
"Your real name," Jiraiya interrupted flatly, not even blinking.
Lumian clicked his tongue in annoyance, straightening up.
"Tch... fine. Amon. Amon Tsuchi."
Jiraiya's eyes widened. A beat of silence followed. His brows furrowed, expression shifting from curiosity to mild disbelief.
"A-Amon Tsuchi?" he repeated slowly internally. "That Amon Tsuchi? Sensei mentioned a kid by that name.... said he caused a stir at the academy tournament. Said he had 'talent.' I didn't think it'd be the same scrappy little thief who lifted my wallet…"
He stared at the boy for a long moment, as if trying to connect the dots between the academy prodigy and the smug gremlin digging through kitchen drawers for loose change.
Lumian, meanwhile, shifted his weight onto one foot, arms crossed tightly.
"You're not gonna start stalking me now, are you?" he said, raising a skeptical brow. "I don't need a creepy old man following me around."
Jiraiya's eyebrow twitched, a vein in his forehead pulsing slightly.
"I don't need your information to track you down, thank you very much," he muttered through clenched teeth.
He coughed, brushing the insult aside like an annoying fly.
"Anyway," he continued, voice returning to a forced calm, "aren't you still in the academy? Mind explaining why you're going around stealing wallets like a pickpocket in a back alley?"
Lumian gave a nonchalant shrug, eyes drifting toward the ceiling.
"A man's gotta eat," he said plainly. "Plus, it's kinda fun. You should see the look on people's faces when they realize they've been cleaned out. It's... art."
He added internally, with a flicker of childish guilt behind his eyes:
"I just need to digest the Maurader potion... I swear I'm not a bad person!!!"
Jiraiya exhaled a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose again.
"Why did I even ask..."
There was a pause. Then Jiraiya, switching gears, gave Lumian a more probing look.
"You said earlier you prefer Genjutsu. That's not something most kids lean toward. So tell me: what's the reason? Real answer this time."
Lumian looked away, folding his arms tighter.
"I don't want to tell you," he said flatly. "But let's be real... the Hokage's probably gonna share it with you once you vouch for me, right?"
He took a breath, then looked Jiraiya in the eye.
"So I'll just say it now: I suck at Ninjitsu. My chakra implodes within itself whenever I try to externally draw it out. I got a hang of Taijutsu a bit... but its nowhere near the level of my illusions."
He paused, then added with a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes:
"Genjutsu, though... that's the only thing that comes easy. That's where I shine."
Jiraiya tilted his head, studying the boy with renewed interest. He slowly began to pace around Lumian, his expression unreadable.
The sudden circling made Lumian tense up.
"Hey," he said warily, eyes following Jiraiya's movements. "What are you doing? I don't like being circled. Feels like I'm being examined like a lab rat."
Jiraiya stopped in front of him and scratched his chin, brows furrowed.
"Just thinking," he muttered. "Your chakra... the way you talk about your Genjutsu affinity... Are you sure you're not from the Kurama clan? Maybe you've got a distant relative? Something dormant in your bloodline?"
Lumian shook his head without hesitation.
"Nah, its just my genes. You dare compare my superior genes to those fake bunny-hat illusionists??"
"They're probably going to hang you if you said that in front of them kid...."
. . .
Jiraiya patted his pocket and took a sip from the cup of water on the table.
"Since I got my wallet back now, I'll make my way out now...."
Lumian hurriedly raised his hands in a stopping motion.
"Wait! Just..... one more thing."
Jiraiya paused, one brow arching.
"When you advocate for my early graduation; which I know you will," Lumian added quickly with a toothy grin, "could you also put in a word for me to get a Jōnin instructor? Specifically one who specializes in Genjutsu?"
His voice dipped slightly, more genuine now.
"It'd really help."
And it'd be perfect for digesting the Apprentice potion, he added silently. Being guided... being taught... that's part of the process. I can't just wait around for it to settle on its own.
Jiraiya raised an eyebrow, then sighed through his nose.
"That's not up to me, kid. Hokage makes that kind of decision."
But then he paused. A mischievous grin slowly spread across his face as he jabbed a thumb toward himself.
"Buuut... I can always take on a student. You know? I've got a Genjutsu trick or two up my sleeve."
"...."
"...."
"...."
The Sannin grinned wider, clearly proud of his offer.
Lumian deadpanned at the grinning Sannin who looked like he just made point. He sighed and shook his head. Internally he thought, "Sorry Jiraiya... I would want to be you student, but I can't...."
He spoke with a deadpan tone.
"Your student?" he replied, voice flat. "Oh please. Like you can teach me anything."
Jiraiya immediately recoiled.
"Hey! I'll have you know I'm one of the Legendary Sannin! My name carries weight across all the great nations! Farmers whisper it, shinobi respect it, and even Kages think twice before crossing me!"
Lumian smirked, throwing a jab.
"Yeah? The same Sannin known as the Pervy Sage? Doesn't sound very respectable to me."
"GHK—!"
Jiraiya clutched his chest like he'd just been stabbed with a kunai. He staggered back a step, making a dramatic wheezing noise.
Lumian just shook his head with a long, tired sigh.
"And besides," he added, "don't you already have a student? Pretty sure he wouldn't be thrilled if you started focusing on some random academy brat instead."
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What happened next, was something that Lumian couldn't possibly imagine.
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Jiraiya raised his eyebrows in confusion, staring at Lumian with a questioning look.
"Student?? I did have a bunch of students long ago... but I didn't really take one on recently?"
"..."
Huh.
Whoah whoah hold on a second. Lumian backtracked as he waved his hands in panic.
"Your yellow haired genius prodigy student?? The boy said to rival the Second Hokage in Geniusness???"
Jiraiya made a dreamy expression as he crossed his arms.
"Yeah, that does sound like an ideal someone that is worthy of my attention.
Lumian angrily shouted at Jiraiya.
"Stop playing games old man!! I didn't want to say this, but Your student! Minato Namikaze!!!"
. . .
. . .
His reaction was nothing that Lumian envisioned.
His brows scrunched up as he silently puts his finger to his lip, in thought. Perhaps he's deciding how to prank Lumian further... how to make this even more funnier for his own amusement.
Jiraiya spoke.
"Kid."
Lumian expectantly looked at Jiraiya and sighed.
"Finally, losing the game? Alright spill it."
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
"Who's Minato?"
. . .
. . .
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. . .
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(Author's note:
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Anyways!!!
Thanks for reading ya know!
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Thank you.)