The crowd of gamblers all craned their necks in anticipation, eyes fixed on the dice, chanting in unison, "Low. Low. Low."
Tsunade sneaked a glance at the numbers showing on the dice. The moment she saw it, her eyes lit up and her face bloomed with a radiant smile.
With a triumphant flourish, she slammed the dice cup onto the table, planted her small hands on her hips, and glanced smugly at the stunned faces of the surrounding gamblers.
Bursting into laughter, she shouted, "I'm Konoha's Gambling Prodigy, anyone else dare to challenge me?"
Jiraiya also got a clear look at the dice. No tricks, no interference, he saw it plainly. The number facing up was a big, bold six.
A buzzing noise filled Jiraiya's head. His mind went blank, and it felt like his skull was splitting open. He couldn't tear his eyes away from that die.
He had lost.
His heart thudded erratically in his chest. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, trickling down his brow and stinging his eyes.
The whole world seemed to sway around him as he drifted aimlessly through the crowded room.
Thankfully, Orochimaru had a firm grip on Jiraiya's sleeve. Without him, the boy would've been crushed under the wave of restless gamblers.
Orochimaru understood exactly how Jiraiya felt. It was his first time gambling, and he'd bet everything he had in one desperate move... only to lose it all.
Not even his underwear survived. Jiraiya's emotions had plummeted straight into the darkest depths of the ocean trench.
A twinge of sympathy stirred in Orochimaru's heart. He even wondered if maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't tease this idiot so much in the future.
Tsunade's final turn as the dealer drew in even the veteran gamblers who'd been winning all night.
Knowing this was their last chance, they pushed in all their chips, everything they had just won, even digging into their own pockets to exchange more money for tokens.
The newcomers who had just arrived eagerly joined the fray. Most followed the veterans and bet on "Low."
A few, unfamiliar with the scene, decided to go against the tide and wagered on "High."
These few earned baffled and pitying looks from everyone around them, like they were hopeless fools.
But in the end, the "Low" bettors lost it all. The few who dared bet "High" struck it rich.
The room was a mosaic of emotions, some gamblers wailed and stomped their feet, having lost everything.
Others gritted their teeth, regretting not betting more on "High."
A few gave a sigh of relief, thankful they'd only bet a little and hadn't lost too much overall.
Arima had already known the result of the roll. His enhanced hearing, sharpened during a physical transformation at the age of three, let him discern the numbers just by the sound.
He swept his gaze across the crowd, curious to observe the full spectrum of human emotion under the rush of gambling highs and lows.
Jiraiya had lost miserably. Arima could have warned him against betting on "Low," but he chose to stay silent. This was a lesson Jiraiya needed to learn.
Just as Arima had predicted, the moment Jiraiya saw the dice, he fell into a daze. Arima did feel sorry for the kid, but he didn't step in to comfort him right away.
He glanced out the window. The sky had darkened, it was getting late. Tomorrow, he needed to meet with his senpais to discuss future plans. And Tsunade had school in the morning.
To Arima, a small bet could be entertaining, but enough was enough. Any more, and it would become self-destructive.
So he gently pulled Tsunade, still basking in her "gambling prodigy" glory, into his arms.
The area around the table was now noisy and chaotic. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Tsunade, it's time to go."
Feeling Arima's arms around her, Tsunade immediately hugged him back, wrapping her small arms around his neck and planting a happy kiss on his cheek.
"I won, Arima-nii. Grandpa must be watching over me. I could feel him with me the whole time." she beamed, clutching the necklace around her neck tightly in her palm.
Arima gave her a gentle smile. He didn't know what to say at that moment.
Then, holding Tsunade close, he stood up from the dealer's seat. Turning back, he motioned with his eyes for Orochimaru to take care of the dazed Jiraiya and follow him.
The casino was run by several major shinobi clans in the village, including the Sarutobi and Shimura families, whose heirs were Arima's senapis.
The staff all knew Arima well. When they saw him preparing to leave, they immediately exchanged his chips for cash and handed it over in an organized stack.
Arima nodded faintly in acknowledgment and quickly left with the three children.
Tsunade clung to his neck, resting quietly on his shoulder, basking in the safety and warmth that only her brother could bring.
Her earlier energy had clearly run out, her stunning victory had drained her completely.
Orochimaru held onto Jiraiya's sleeve and followed their teacher step by step.
The street was now deserted. Shops were closed and dark. The only sound was their footsteps, echoing through the cold, silent night.
They walked together in silence until they reached a fork in the road, where they had to go their separate ways.
Arima created two shadow clones and sent them off with Orochimaru and Jiraiya, both to escort them and to inform their families.
Tsunade had already fallen asleep on Arima's shoulder. He carefully wrapped her in his coat so she wouldn't wake.
With a nod of his head, Arima signaled the others to follow his clones home.
Jiraiya finally snapped out of his daze. Realizing how far they had walked, he shivered as the cold seeped into his bones.
After quietly saying goodbye to Orochimaru, he followed the clone toward home, his steps heavy and uncertain.
As they neared his doorstep, Jiraiya suddenly froze. He was afraid to face his mother.
Their family was already struggling, barely getting by. And now, he had borrowed a large sum of money from Orochimaru... and lost it all.
Arima's clone stopped a short distance from Jiraiya's house and looked at the boy, who stood there like a guilty ghost. "Jiraiya, we're at your house. It's time for me to go."
Jiraiya slowly lifted his head, words caught in his throat.
Arima sighed and asked gently, "Jiraiya, do you understand what you did wrong?"
Jiraiya nodded without hesitation.
Now he understood why that place was called the "Forbidden Zone for Children."
It was a painful realization. He had lost everything.
Arima saw the lesson had hit its mark. Jiraiya was clearly more subdued than usual, not his typical loud, joking self. Seeing this, Arima decided it was time to step in, as a teacher should.
He opened the box of money the clone had brought and pulled out the cash.
Then he took the boy's cold, stiff hand and placed the money into it.
Jiraiya stared at the gesture, stunned. He wanted to say thank you, but the words felt far too small. He wanted to refuse, but couldn't bring himself to speak.
Arima knew the boy had pride. Despite their poverty, Jiraiya and his mother had always lived with quiet dignity.
Seeing the turmoil on his face, Arima said, "Take it for now. I'll teach your mother how to make grilled meat.
You can give her this money as startup capital. When things get better at home, you can slowly pay me back."
A wave of warmth rushed through Jiraiya. His eyes stung. He felt tears threatening to fall.
Arima smiled gently and ruffled his hair.
"Alright now. I know you're grateful, and I know this is a lot for you. But it's not a big deal for me. If you really want to repay me, then study hard. Become a strong ninja.
And one day, pass this kindness on to someone else. There are many out there who just need someone to pull them up when they're about to fall."
Jiraiya couldn't hold back anymore. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he stepped forward and hugged Arima tightly.
'I'll become a great ninja someday,' Jiraiya vowed in his heart. 'Maybe... one day, I can be as great as sensei.'
Arima let him cling to him. He knew the boy had suffered much already, always using mischief to mask his pain.
After a while, Jiraiya began to calm down. Noticing the snot and tears he'd smeared all over his teacher's clothes, he grew embarrassed.
Arima didn't mind at all, it was just a clone anyway.
Then he looked seriously at Jiraiya and said, "Remember, stay away from gambling. Tsunade is different from you.
She does this to feel close to her grandfather. We didn't go there for money. We went for remembrance."
"There will be many temptations in your life. Don't make the same mistake again. What falls from the sky usually isn't a pie, but a shuriken... or an explosive tag."
Jiraiya nodded thoughtfully, understanding dawning in his eyes.
Arima didn't expect him to remember everything perfectly. He just hoped to steer the boy in the right direction as he grew.
"Come on," Arima said at last. "Let's go inside. I'd like to meet your mother and talk to her about the grilled meat business."
Jiraiya nodded, reaching out to grab Arima's sleeve and walking beside him, step by step.
Arima chuckled to himself. This brat really was a lovable kid.
When they reached the door, Arima gave a gentle knock. They soon heard hurried footsteps approaching from within.
Jiraiya's mother, Yuka, had been in a panic over her son's late return. When she opened the door and saw him there under the pale moonlight, joy filled her heart.
Then she noticed the older boy standing beside him, around ten years old, someone she didn't recognize.
Arima introduced himself immediately, "I'm Arima Senju, Jiraiya's teacher. We ran late today because I was teaching him and a few others some ninjutsu. Sorry to have worried you."
Yuka had been about to scold Jiraiya for being out so late, but when she heard Arima's words, her anger faded. She turned her attention to the young teacher.
Of course she knew who he was, his name was well-known in the village. Her heart settled, and she opened the door wider, stepping aside to invite him in.
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