Chapter 21 - Along With The Pervy Sage

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A deep, hearty laugh echoed through the room, carrying the sort of mischievous energy that immediately put you on guard.

"Hahaha! You've got quite the keen eye for this stuff at your age, kid!"

The voice belonged to a man who had just stepped through the swinging curtain with the flair of a theatrical performer making a grand entrance. His hair, wild and snow-white, jutted out in all directions, as if gravity itself had given up trying to tame it. His eyes, squinted in a perpetual state of cunning, glinted with a playful, roguish gleam, while his broad grin suggested he was someone always looking for trouble. Unfortunately, the smell that followed him was less "wise sage" and more "old socks forgotten in a corner."

"I’ve got my eye on you!" he declared, his booming voice somewhere between a talent scout and an eccentric uncle, teetering on the edge of respectability.

Before anyone could react, Mi Blade’s hand shot out like lightning, grabbing Kakashi's arm as if the older boy were a life preserver in a stormy sea. Without a word, he pulled Kakashi along, the urgency in his steps betraying an instinct for self-preservation as they hurried to another pool, putting as much distance between themselves and the newcomer as possible.

“Huh?” The man’s grin faltered slightly, a confused frown tugging at the edges of his lips.

"Hey, do you even know who I am? Have manners gone out the window with kids these days?"

Kakashi glanced at Mi Blade, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Why are we switching pools?"

Mi Blade let out a small, exasperated sigh, as if the answer should have been obvious. "That’s Jiraiya—the Sannin of Konoha... and a full-time pervert."

Jiraiya scratched his head, his once proud, larger-than-life persona visibly deflating.

"Wait, you know who I am, and you're still running away? Isn't it an honor to share the bath with me?" He puffed out his chest, striking a pose that was meant to be heroic, but came off more as comical.

Kakashi looked bewildered, leaning in closer to Mi Blade and whispering in a voice just loud enough for Jiraiya to hear.

"It’s not really polite to ditch someone like this..."

Mi Blade, eyes glinting with knowing mischief, explained matter-of-factly.

"Jiraiya, personal student of the Third Hokage and self-proclaimed ‘Toad Sage,’ is infamous for showing up at hot springs—not for relaxation, but to spy on women. Ever since Lady Tsunade left Konoha, his behavior has taken a... noticeable turn for the worse."

Kakashi's expression shifted from confusion to thinly veiled disgust. His mouth tightened into a line as he muttered, "That's... pretty gross."

Jiraiya, now rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His previously booming voice dropped to a defensive mutter.

Mi Blade wasn’t about to let up.

"I’ve read plenty about male and female anatomy in the library," he said, crossing his arms like a detective unveiling the culprit at the climax of a mystery novel.

"Men, as it turns out, have a tendency to act on their urges. So, forgive me if I don’t trust that Lord Jiraiya’s hands are exactly... clean."

At this, a heavy, awkward silence fell over the room, the steam from the hot springs swirling in the air like a stage set for an embarrassing revelation.

Jiraiya's eyes widened, his face turning a vivid shade of red, like someone caught in a very compromising situation.

"W-wait, what?!"

Mi Blade, clearly enjoying himself, continued, his voice dripping with feigned innocence.

"Picture this: a man watching certain... let’s say, inappropriate materials without any... tissues around. Would you really trust him in a public bath?"

Jiraiya blinked, completely thrown off guard. His eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape, his usual swagger nowhere to be found.

"So, uh... nice weather we’re having?" he blurted out, his voice betraying his desperation to change the subject.

Kakashi, looking thoroughly unimpressed, shot Jiraiya a withering glance.

"Yeah," he said flatly, "I think the weather’s a lot less shady than you are."

Jiraiya, in his prime twenties, brimmed with vitality and the kind of bachelor freedom that often led men to questionable decisions. Did anyone really think he was peeping on women just out of simple curiosity?

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Please! With the infamous Icha Icha Paradise under his belt, it was clear he was gathering "research" straight from real-life experiences. The idea that he was just hanging around the hot springs without any ulterior motives was laughable.

Kakashi, standing beside Mi Blade, felt his face drain of color. The younger boy’s blunt words hit with the force of a kunai, cutting straight to the point.

"Ninja kids grow up way too fast," Kakashi thought, trying to process the unsettling implications hidden behind Mi Blade’s matter-of-fact tone. It wasn’t the graphic nature of what was said—Mi Blade’s words had been vague enough—but the message was as sharp as a shuriken, and Kakashi suddenly felt the weight of it, like a trap he hadn’t seen coming.

He was doomed. Kakashi could practically feel a curse settling over him, as though the very act of sharing the same bathhouse as Jiraiya had tainted his soul. His mind spun into melodramatic territory, imagining his chances of finding a girlfriend slipping away faster than a runaway scroll in the wind.

“I’m sorry, Father,” Kakashi thought with exaggerated despair, casting himself as the tragic lead in a poorly written play. He pictured his father’s disappointed ghost, shaking its head at the absurdity of it all.

"I’ve let you down," he whispered under his breath, mentally apologizing for this unforeseen twist in his life.

Then, with sudden intensity, Kakashi leaped out of the hot spring like a startled cat, sending water flying in every direction.

"What?!"

He practically shouted, his voice carrying through the steamy room. He bolted toward the showers with the urgency of a ninja racing to complete a mission, scrubbing at his skin as if he could somehow wash away every trace of Jiraiya’s influence. It wasn’t just a bath anymore; it was an exorcism of bad luck.

Jiraiya stood there, his face darkening like a storm cloud on the verge of unleashing thunder. Thankfully, it was just the three of them in the men’s bath, because if anyone else had witnessed this, his reputation—already shaky—would’ve crumbled completely.

“Who’s been filling your head with this nonsense?” Jiraiya ground out, his voice a low growl as he glared up at the ceiling as though it had betrayed him. His fists clenched in frustration.

“Unforgivable!” he declared dramatically, throwing his arms up in the air like the hero of some tragic story.

Turning to Kakashi, Jiraiya attempted to salvage some dignity.

“Kid, don’t believe a word of what he’s telling you! I’ve just returned to the village. I haven’t done anything—yet!” His voice rang out, full of defensive energy as he tried to appeal to Kakashi, who, oblivious to the older man’s plea, continued scrubbing himself with fervor, his efforts now bordering on obsessive.

“But you—” Kakashi began, but his protests were drowned out by a flurry of soap bubbles that turned his words into a mess of froth. In that moment, he looked more like a walking shampoo commercial than a seasoned ninja, making the entire situation even more absurd.

Jiraiya, now shifting his focus to Mi Blade, pointed a finger at the boy, his expression one of righteous indignation.

“I don’t care who told you this! Apologize to me right now!” His tone was that of a man who had clearly reached the end of his rope.

Mi Blade met Jiraiya’s dramatic command with a cheeky grin.

“Or else what, Lord Jiraiya?” he quipped, his voice brimming with barely contained laughter. “Even if you just got back to the village, haven’t you always been a notorious peeper?”

The color drained from Jiraiya’s face as his already questionable reputation took another hit. He opened his mouth to retort but faltered, his words evaporating into a feeble, “Well…” His confident facade crumbled as he struggled to come up with a defense, but none came.

His shoulders slumped slightly, and for the first time, he looked truly flustered, like someone caught in the act but too proud to fully admit it.

“Maybe it’s time I stick to writing,” he mused silently, making a half-hearted mental note to be sneakier in the future.

Meanwhile, Kakashi, still in the shower, scrubbing like a man possessed, muttered under his breath, “Can’t unsee that...” His tone was that of someone who had just watched a disaster unfold but couldn’t look away.

Fed up, Jiraiya turned on Mi Blade again, his temper fraying at the edges.

“Quiet, white-haired brat! What family do you belong to? I’ll have a word with your parents!” His words were more of a desperate grasp for control than a real threat, but the frustration was real.

Mi Blade, utterly unshaken, smiled.

“Oh, you want to know? I’m Hatake Miblade! My older brother is Kakashi Hatake, and our father is Sakumo Hatake. My teacher is none other than Orochimaru, one of the Sannin. And my teacher’s mentor? The Third Hokage himself, Lord Sarutobi!” He delivered this information with all the flair of a showman, clearly reveling in the reaction he was about to get.

Jiraiya’s confidence wavered, his bravado dissolving as the full weight of Mi Blade’s connections hit him like a boulder rolling downhill.

“Uh…” he stammered, trying to process the situation. He had absolutely no desire to tangle with any of those names, let alone the child of both the esteemed Hatake family and the Uchiha bloodline. It was like walking into a fight with a giant, armed with nothing but a spoon.

“And there’s more!” Mi Blade added, raising his hands like he was about to deliver the final blow in this unintentional battle of wits.

Jiraiya’s eyes widened, his mind scrambling for some forgotten detail.

“You’re Sakumo’s second son, and your mother is from the Uchiha clan, isn’t she?” His tone shifted, suddenly laced with a mixture of realization and trepidation.

Mi Blade’s grin widened as he puffed out his chest proudly. “Exactly right.”

Jiraiya’s expression hardened, the atmosphere in the room growing tense.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment! Your mother and you made me suffer back in the day!” His eyes lit up with the thrill of a challenge, completely ignoring the fact that he was picking a fight with a child.

“Don’t run away now! Get dressed and fight me one-on-one!” Jiraiya’s voice brimmed with excitement, as though this unexpected rivalry had reignited his warrior spirit.

Kakashi, still mid-scrub, blinked in confusion. “Fight? What are we talking about?” he muttered, looking lost, as though he had just stumbled into a scene from a particularly bad action movie.

Jiraiya, undeterred, crossed his arms with a determined expression, fully committed to whatever chaos was about to unfold.

“Mi Blade, are you out of your mind? You can’t just go toe-to-toe with Jiraiya-sama! He’s... well, he’s Jiraiya!” Kakashi’s voice shot up in pitch as he frantically waved his hands, trying to reel his younger brother back from what he saw as a suicidal decision. His grey eyes were wide, his usual calm demeanor crumbling in the face of the absurd situation unfolding before him.

Mi Blade shrugged, his gaze unwavering as it stayed locked on Jiraiya, brimming with a confidence far beyond his years.

“He’s the one who asked for it. And, let’s be honest, this is going to make one heck of a story later. How does ‘Brave Kid Defeats Legendary Sage’ sound? I think it has a nice ring to it.”

Jiraiya, now thoroughly amused, cracked a grin as he shifted into what he probably thought was an intimidating stance—though it looked suspiciously like he was gearing up to breakdance instead of fight.

“Kid, you’re in for a world of trouble, but don’t worry,” he said, rolling his neck dramatically, “I’ll go easy on you. No need to start crying when you meet the real Jiraiya!”

Mi Blade smirked and, with all the theatrical flair of a stage actor, activated his Sharingan. The red tomoes in his eyes spun ominously, a stark contrast to the casual smirk on his face.

“Good, because I’d hate to hurt you, old man. I’d feel bad if I ended up dislocating a hip or something.”

Without another word, Jiraiya launched himself forward, fist outstretched. It wasn’t his full strength—more like a playful jab meant to startle—but Mi Blade was faster than expected.

He ducked beneath Jiraiya’s punch with the grace of a seasoned shinobi, fluidly shifting his weight before countering with a swift kick aimed at Jiraiya’s midsection. The older man blocked it just in time, his forearm catching the blow with a sharp thud.

“Not bad!” Jiraiya grunted, his eyebrows lifting in mild surprise. “You’ve got some moves! Alright, kid, let’s see if you can handle a little more heat!”

Mi Blade didn’t wait for further invitation. He darted forward, launching a series of rapid punches and kicks that had Jiraiya backpedaling, his large frame moving with surprising agility as he dodged and blocked each blow.

But Jiraiya was no ordinary opponent. With a flick of his hand, he weaved through a set of hand signs, summoning a toad that materialized with a resounding croak.

The creature, portly and about the size of a large dog, appeared in a puff of smoke, its eyes narrowing as it sized up Mi Blade.

Mi Blade, quick on his feet, dodged the toad’s sudden leap just in time, but the distraction allowed Jiraiya to close the gap between them.

With a powerful strike, Jiraiya sent Mi Blade skidding back across the ground, his sandals scraping against the wet earth of the training field. Despite the impact, Mi Blade remained upright, his Sharingan spinning as he quickly regained his balance.

Wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, Mi Blade grinned. “You’re not as rusty as I thought, old man.”

Jiraiya let out a hearty laugh, his booming voice echoing through the clearing. He looked like a man who had just discovered a new favorite game.

“I told you, kid! I’ve been through wars, seen things you couldn’t even dream of. You’ve got some skill, but you’re still greener than a salad at a rabbit convention.”

Mi Blade’s grin widened. “Then I guess it’s time I made you see stars.”

Jiraiya’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Bring it on, kid!” he roared, his fists at the ready.