UPDATE: As of April 2, 2019, I have made revisions to the first three chapters, and am working on the fourth. Yes, after two whole years, this fic is updating again.

Heliocentrism

Chapter One – The Obligatory Tutorial Dungeon

In which many people learn many things, but Namikaze Minato is not one of those people.

Akimichi Saburou had signed up for Academy to be an ass-kicking, name-taking god of war. No more talk of taking over his mother's restaurant, no more hiding behind Chouza-aniki when the other clan kids picked on him – he was going to be a real ninja. Enemies would be so scared they'd flee at the very sight of him. He was going to be great, no, better than great. He was going to be goddamn legend.

Unfortunately, he was also going to be asleep in his very first class if the teacher kept droning on like this.

"What makes you a truly great shinobi will not be how fast you are, how strong you are, or how many techniques you know," the teacher said, which might have been inspiring if it hadn't been delivered in a bland monotone. "It will be your resourcefulness, your teammates, and your inner Will of Fire." Saburou straightened in his seat and tried to look attentive as the teacher's gaze drifted in his direction, but he couldn't stop his eyes from watering as he fought down an enormous yawn.

'I'm so bored. And kinda hungry. When's he gonna start teaching us real ninja skills?' Saburou wondered. Hopefully within the next five minutes, because Saburou wasn't sure he could hold out any longer than that without giving in to the sweet temptation of sleep.

As if in answer to his prayers, a knock on the door interrupted the teacher mid-sentence. Frowning, the teacher aborted his lecture and opened the door.

It was a masked ANBU. Saburou could see several of his classmates straighten in their seats as a murmur of excitement rippled through the room. Saburou craned his neck to see over the people in front of him.

The ANBU made several quick hand signals that caused their teacher to frown, and then nod brusquely. He turned back towards them and said, "Remain in the classroom and talk amongst yourselves. This shouldn't take long." Then he formed a brisk hand sign as both adults disappeared in twin puffs of smoke.

The class immediately exploded into excited chatter.

"What do you think the ANBU is here for?"

"I bet there's a spy in the Academy!"

"Maybe the village is under attack!"

"Maybe Sensei was implicated in some kind of administrative oversight that caused a huge intra-village political scandal!"

"...what?"

"... he screwed up and now the important people are mad at him."

"Well why didn't you just say so?"

Before complete anarchy could set in, however, the oddest thing happened: small pink cherry blossoms began to fall all around them, despite the fact that they were indoors.

The sounds of excitement and speculation shifted into puzzlement and confusion. Several people tried to catch the falling flowers, but the petals winked out of existence as soon as they touched anything solid.

(You used the skill: Observe.) "We're under a level two genjutsu debuff," said the blond kid sitting in front of Saburou. (Your Observe skill has risen.) It was the first time he had spoken up all day, and his observation was voiced in the same polite tone that one might observe that, golly, the weather sure is nice today.

So it took a moment for everyone to process that the weather in question was not, in fact, nice at all. It was a rain of illusory cherry blossoms that could kill them all.

"I don't suppose anyone knows the dispel skill?" added the blonde, looking a bit sheepish as he rubbed the back of his head.

Saburou didn't. And by the 'oh crap' expressions on all of his classmates' faces, no one else did either.

One kid burst into tears. The others made a panicked stampede for the door. Or rather, they tried to stampede towards the door, but their motions became more and more sluggish with every passing second, so it looked more like a spontaneous session of interpretative slow dance. One boy managed to wobble all the way into to door before sinking down into a boneless heap right in front of the exit; no one else even got that far.

Saburou would have gotten up to make his own break for it, but for some reason, his head was just too heavy to lift off the desk. Wait, when had he even placed his head on the desk anyway? And why were his eyelids drooping down? They were under attack! This was the worst possible time to go to sleep!

But his eyes were so heavy...

'No,' he mourned as his vision faded to black, 'It can't end like this! I never got to become a legend. I never got to eat my lunch either! Momma's gonna say 'I told you so' at my grave...''

. . .

...or not, because Saburou woke to a mouthful of rags, a splitting headache, and an incredibly uncomfortable knot of ropes digging into his back.

"Mmmffffmmmm!" Saburou swore, or at least, tried to swear despite being gagged and being limited to the vocabulary of a six-year-old. His first instinct was to scream for help, but alas, his mouth was stuffed with a yucky ball of cloth that muffled his voice. Plan B, curl up in a ball and cry like a baby, was likewise considered and discarded, because his eyes were too dry and itchy to summon up a proper sob session. Not to mention, it'd do zilch to resolve his current problem.

That left Plan C, which was to suck it up, ask himself WWND - What Would a Ninja Do? - and then do it.

A real ninja would probably get out of these ropes first, so Saburou looked frantically around the tiny cell for something that he could use to untie himself. Unfortunately, his cell was the most boring room ever, with four identical walls, a floor, a ceiling, a door, and little else. The only thing in the room was a trussed up six-year-old.

Which left him with only truly desperate measures, but desperate times and all that.

Summoning up all his ninja fortitude, Saburou began to chew furiously. Ugh, the rags tasted like feet. It was a small mercy was they were also old and tattered, no match for the teeth of a kid who drank a whole glass of milk every day.

He had just finished chewing through the gag and started gnawing on the ropes around his wrists when he saw two small hands curl around around the bars on the window of his cell door. A moment later, a rather familiar head of blond hair popped into view. It was the boy in class who had recognized the genjutsu.

The blonde peered into the cell for a moment before his face lit up with recognition. "Hello! Akimichi right?"

Saburou nodded mutely.

"Are you hurt?"

Saburou shook his head before remembering that he wasn't gagged anymore and awkwardly cleared his throat. He said, "No, I'm okay. Other than being, uh, kidnapped.."

The boy nodded understandingly and said, "Let's get you out of there then."

(Tutorial: [Lockpicking] To pick locks, use a lock pick item on the - )

(Tutorial: Turn off tutorial messages? Accept | Cancel)

(Tutorial messages are now off.)

He disappeared back out of sight, but there were a few jangling and scraping noises before Saburou heard the wonderful sound of a bolt sliding free (You have used the skill: Lockpicking). The door cracked open with a soft creak, and his blonde classmate slipped through the gap without a sound. (Your Lockpicking skill has risen.)

He jogged across the room to help untie Saburou, not even flinching at the now slobbery rope knots. He made short work of them. In almost no time at all, Saburou was free to rub at his wrists, which were sore, but surprisingly not chafed. Weirdly, their captors had been nice enough to add a layer of cloth to cushion his hands underneath the rough rope.

(Quest Updated! Allies Rescued [1/10]!)

Once he was free, Saburou murmured, "Thanks, um..."

"Namikaze," the boy answered, "But you can call me Minato." He led Saburou down a hallway to the right, then left, then another left, then right again. Then he pointed down the corridor and said, "I took out the guards at the exit, and I don't think they've respawned yet. If you keep going straight, you should be able to get out without running into anyone."

Saburou took two steps down the hall before realizing that Namikaze hadn't followed. In fact, his classmate had turned around and started jogging the opposite way.

"Wait, where are you going?" he hissed, not at all partial to the idea of braving the dark passageway alone.

Namikaze replied in the most matter-of-fact tone of voice, "To find the rest of our class."

"What? You don't - " Except, Namikaze had already proved he did, or Saburou would still be trapped in that tiny cell. An ugly prickle of shame crawled up out of his gut and choked the words in his throat. He hadn't even considered the possibility saving his classmates. What kind of ninja abandoned his comrades? A garbage ninja, that's what. And an even worse friend. Chouza-aniki always said that Akimichi were born with big bones so that they could shield they friends. Not so that they could run away when their friends needed them most.

So Saburou found these words tumbling out of mouth instead, " - think I'd leave a flaky looking guy like you to do all the hard work, do you? I-I'm coming with you!"

Namikaze looked so surprised that Saburou could've punched him. Would've punched him, if Namikaze's gaze hadn't suddenly gone weird and distant like he wasn't staring at Saburou, but throughhim. (You have used the skill: Observe.) (Akimichi Saburou LVL 3 HP 350/350) (Your Observe skill has risen.). Then Namikaze blinked and his eyes were refocused so quickly that Saburou wondered if the strange look hadn't just been a trick of the light.

"You're right," Namikaze said with a soft laugh, "This was never meant to be a solo mission."

He held out his hand towards Saburou, and when Saburou grasped it, he could almost feel a ripple of strength and courage surge up his arm, filling his heart to the brim. It felt like he could do anything, conquer any foe, and come out stronger no matter what obstacles he faced. Saburou could almost swear he heard an odd chime in the back of his mind, as if fate had struck a chord. Whoa. That was cool. Maybe this was what the teacher had meant by the Will of Fire?

(You have formed a new party!)
(Akimichi Saburou has joined your party!)

(Gained: 'Power of Friendship' Buff! +10% Willpower, +10% Willpower Regen)

Namikaze just smiled knowingly and said, "Sensei did say that teammates are what make us truly great shinobi."

. . .

Saburou had wondered where Namikaze found a lock pick, but that question quickly answered itself.

The answer was that Namikaze insisted on going into every single room and opening every single container while they were trying to escape an enemy stronghold. He would then pocket everything he found, no matter how useless it seemed, and somehow, his pockets never seemed to run out of space. So far, the collection included – but was not limited to – a rusty kunai, several shuriken, a spool of ninja wire, a bottle of suspicious pills, eight tattered rags, a blank scroll, a wooden flute, and a small action figure of the First Hokage, batteries not included.

Saburou would have protested, but by some kind of freak chance, the items Namikaze found always became useful in ways that Namikaze couldn't possibly have foreseen.

After they found the flute and tattered rags, then ran across a classmate who had gotten free from his own ropes, but managed to sprain his ankle in an ill-fated attempt to break down his cell door.

(You have used the skill: First Aid.) Namikaze promptly turned the flute and rags into a makeshift splint so that the boy could limp along with them. (Your First Aid skill has risen.)

(Quest updated! Allies Rescued [2/10]!)

They found a rusty kunai inside a rotting wooden box, and the next classmate they came across was a girl who had gotten free from her cell, but had immediately run into a rope trap that dangled her from the ceiling. (You have used the skill: Traps.) Namikaze had cut her free with the rusty kunai (Your Traps skill has risen.) and insisted on collecting the severed ropes from the trap along with him. (You have used the skill: Salvage) He then tied those ropes back together to help the next wayward classmate they found climb out of a pit-trap. (Your Salvage skill has risen.)

(Quest updated! Allies Rescued [3/10]!)
(Quest updated! Allies Rescued [4/10]!)

Either Namikaze was the luckiest bastard in Fire Country, or he had some ridiculous bloodline limit that let him predict the immediate future.

At least Saburou got to watch his classmates undergo the same stages of bewilderment, outrage, and resignation at Namikaze's methods that Saburou had already undergone.

(Quest updated! Allies Rescued [5/10]!)
(Quest updated! Allies Rescued [6/10]!)
(Quest updated! Allies Rescued [7/10]!)
(Quest updated! Allies Rescued [8/10]!)
(Quest updated! Allies Rescued [9/10]!)

Unfortunately, the more classmates they rescued, the more glaringly obvious the flaw in their escape plan became.

One small, scrawny six-year-old could easily sneak down a dark hallway without too much trouble. Two six-year-olds together would have a slightly harder time, especially when the second was an Akimichi, but it was still doable as long as they were careful.

An entire herd of sniffling, shuffling, whispering six-year-olds, however, was about as sneaky as a drunk elephant.

Their escape screeched to a stuttering halt when the corridor they were sneaking down intersected another corridor that was patrolled by a masked guard. A single kid might have been able to dart across into the shadows before the guard noticed, but with ten of them? Their chances of sneaking past unseen were even lower than their chances of making the old 'throw a rock to distract the guard' trick work on a trained shinobi guard.

'What do we do?' Saburou mouthed, glancing at their fearless leader.

That was when Namikaze's eyes turned kind of terrifying.

They had that weird, unfocused look to them again, which hadn't been a trick of the light after all. But the look was accompanied by a cold, steely gleam that looked very out of place on Namikaze's round, childish face. The blonde motioned for everyone to stay in the shadows, and before anyone else could get a word in edgewise, he disappeared in a blur of yellow. One moment, he was next to Saburou, and the next, he had his feet braced against the guard's shoulders and his small hands planted on either side of the guard's head.

(You used the skill: Assassinate.) He used his whole body to twist viciously to the left.

There was a horrifyingly crisp 'snap!'

(Your Assassinate skill has risen.)

Then the guard disappeared in a puff of smoke. Namikaze landed lightly on his feet, dusting himself off and none the worse for the wear.

"Everyone okay?" he asked, turning back towards them with his signature smile back in place.

There was a beat before he received a chorus of mute nods.

No one felt like whispering after that. It certainly helped their stealth, albeit not their morale. Something about what had just happened was vaguely unsettling, the same unsettled feeling Saburou got when he ate something that had expired two weeks ago but still tasted fine. He couldn't help but feel kind of wary about Namikaze, which made no sense at all, because Namikaze done what a real ninja would do. He took initiative. He didn't hesitate. He protected his comrades.

And yet, Saburou still found himself jogging up to Namikaze and lowering his voice so he wouldn't be overheard by the others.

"Hey, uh...how did you know it was a clone?"

Namikaze looked taken a back for a moment, before he smiled sheepishly and said, "Technically, I didn't know it was a clone."

Saburou blinked. Then recoiled as the implications set it. Fortunately, Namikaze continued, "But the first guards I took out were clones, so I figured there was a good chance this one was too."

"Oh. Okay, yeah, that makes sense," Saburou said, as something tight unwound itself in his chest. He made it a few more steps before it occurred to him that Namikaze would have had no way of knowing that the first guards he dispatched were clones either, and Saburou found himself swallowing a lump in his throat as he snuck a sideward glance at his classmate.

Namikaze gave him a bemused smile and tilted his head questioningly at Saburou's gaze. Namikaze always smiled like that. Calm and measured, as if he were in perfect control of the situation. He was doing it on purpose, Saburou realized with a sinking feeling. Namikaze smiled to reassure his allies. Not because he was happy.

"Never mind," Saburou mumbled under breath.

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

. . .

There were three more guards after that. Namikaze didn't take them down quite as viciously as the first, but he still moved so fast that the next two guards were already puffs of smoke by the time the rest of his classmates even realized there had been a guard. One got a rusty kunai through the eye. The other was ignominiously shoved into the path of a falling log trap.

The last guard was the only one they had actually fought, and luckily, one clone was no match for an entire swarm of kicking, scratching, biting six-year-olds.

Unfortunately, after they dispatched the last guard, they turned the corner into a very familiar hallway. They were, in fact, standing in front of Saburou's cell, as evidenced by the pile of slobbery rags discarded in the corner – one of the few items that Namikaze hadn't bothered to collect. This meant that they had circled the entire compound and were still missing one classmate.

"Maybe he already got out," Saburou suggested hopefully. It wasn't impossible. Shimura Naoki would probably be Rookie of the Year if a freak anomaly like Namikaze Minato hadn't come out of nowhere.

Unfortunately, even Saburou didn't believe the words coming out of his own mouth, because there was still one glaringly obvious room they hadn't checked yet, right in the center of the compound. It had been blocked off with a big, scary door plastered in even scarier looking seals, and Namikaze had rather noticeably skipped over it despite his obsessive-compulsive need to loot every nook and cranny of the place. No one bothered to point it out because no one wanted to accidentally encourage him to lead them in there.

The group made one more circuit around the compound just to be sure, but Shimura Naoki was nowhere to be found.

They finally stopped in front of the big, scary door, and Namikaze had that distant, unfocused look in his eyes again as he placed one hand against it.

(Boss Encounter: Shadow Dance)
([Restricted Status: Solo] - You cannot proceed in a party.)

"Saburou," Namikaze said, "do you remember where the exit is?"

Saburou, who had been psyching himself up to face whatever terrifying thing lay beyond the door, immediately bristled and said, "What? I'm not gonna run away!"

"That's good. Because you're the only who's big enough to carry Yajima," Namikaze said, turning his unfocused gaze towards the rest of their classmates. "He hasn't said anything, but he's wincing every time he with his left ankle." Then, in the most unfair, cheap-shot manipulative bastard move ever, Namikaze put his hand on Saburou's shoulder and said with that damned smile of complete faith, "I'm counting on you." (Your CHA has risen.)

How do you argue with that, dammit?

Saburou swallowed down the lump in his throat and lightly punched Namikaze in shoulder. His voice came out shakier than he meant for it to be, but he still managed to growl, "You'd better be right behind us with Shimura's sorry hide, okay? If I gotta come back for you, I'll kick your butt after I kick theirs."

Namikaze smiled another one of his meaningless, reassuring smiles and gave a single, determined nod.

"Go."

(Your party has been disbanded!)
('Power of Friendship' Buff has been removed.)

Saburou furiously rubbed the wet blurriness out of his eyes, shoved aside the hollow feeling in his chest where once there had been warmth, and led his other classmates towards exits, leaving Namikaze Minato behind.

. . .

Saburou ran faster than he had ever run in his life. It didn't matter if he had to carry someone with a twisted ankle on his back, it didn't matter that he was tired and scared, it didn't matter if he was hungrier than he could ever remember being in his life – a friend was counting on him, and the Akimichi didn't let their friends down.

He'd been trapped in this dark dungeon for so long that it took him a moment to realize what the sudden blinding whiteness was when he finally burst out of the exit and into the bright noonday sun.

It took him a few more moments of furious blinking before he could make out the blurry shapes in front of him.

"Sensei!" he blurted out, nearly falling over with relief. "Namikaze, Shimura, the big door, we gotta - !"

"Take it easy, Saburou-kun," Sensei said, kneeling to help steady him. "You did well. You passed the test. None of you were ever in any danger."

Saburou's whirling panic screeched to a dead halt. Finally stopping to glance around, he noticed the other Academy teachers standing around, wearing the same uniforms that the dungeon guards had been wearing. The masked ANBU was there as well. The familiar rooftops of the village stretched below them – the entire prison compound had been built into in the same mountain that bore the Hokage monument.

"But...what..." Saburou stammered for a moment, before several things that didn't make sense before finally clicked into place, "...he knew."

No wonder Namikaze had been so calm. No wonder he found all the stuff they needed before they actually needed it. The teachers set it up that way on purpose.

Saburou took a step back towards the compound's exit, his hands already curling into fists that longed to be acquainted with Namikaze Minato's stupid, smiling, all-too-calm face.

His teacher caught him by the collar.

A different teacher laughed and said, "Don't be too angry with Minato-kun. I'm sure he kept quiet because he didn't want to ruin the exercise for the rest of you. You learned a lot, didn't you?"

Saburou thought about the determination he felt as he chewed through his gag. The hyper awareness as they tried to sneak through the hallways. The exultation as they found another classmate. And the painful, wrenching feeling in his chest as he left a classmate behind even as the weight of another classmate on his back. An Akimichi had a big body to protect his friends. Chouza-aniki said it a lot, but Saburou finally got it.

"...yeah, I did," Saburou admitted grudgingly.

Even so, when Namikaze finally appeared from the exit, smeared with dirt and helping Shimura limp along, Saburou still walked up to him and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. He had his fist wound up and ready to fly, but the apologetic look on Namikaze's face said that the blonde was already prepared to be punched. Expecting it, even.

Somehow, Saburou found himself lowering his fist with an angry huff and shoving Namikaze backwards into the dirt.

"Just this once," Saburou declared, "Just this once, I'll let it slide. But if we're gonna be friends, then you gotta stop the hiding important stuff." Then he held out a hand to help Namikaze back up, asking, "So, we friends?"

Namikaze lay there, blue eyes staring up into the blue sky, his face morphed into that same expression of surprise when Saburou had first offered to join him in rescuing their classmates. He slowly sat up and stared at Saburou's extended hand for a moment, before saying, "Yeah. We're friends." He clasps it and lets Saburou pull him to his feet.

"Awesome," Saburou said, just as his stomach let out a thundering gurgle, "So…since we're friends, how about buying me lunch?"

Minato's smile cracked at last, bursting into a full laugh, a sound so bright and clear that Saburou can't help but grin too.

(Quest Complete! Allies Rescued [10/10]!)
(Dungeon Cleared [Rank: SSS]! +1000 Reputation with Konoha Academy!)
(New Title Acquired: Konoha Academy Student!)
(Achievement Unlocked: Untouchable – Complete an instance without taking any damage.)
(New Quest! The Road to Genin!)
(Now Loading...)

. . .

"We've got a good batch this year, huh?" Shiranui Genta murmured as he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on top of the table in the teacher's lounge.

Matou Yabuki made a noncommittal 'hm' and didn't peel his eyes away from the small television replaying the recordings from the pseudo-dungeon they had set up for the newest group of Academy students.

Nohara Rika looked up from the reports she was browsing for a moment and said, "They're certainly much better at teamwork than the class above them."

Genta snorted, "That's because all the big clans always try to get their heirs into the same class. With that much ego crammed into one room? I'm surprised the Academy is still standing."

"The Yamanaka and Akimichi heirs seemed to get along. Nara too," Yabuki murmured, still glued to the television.

"Bah, it's just clan politics, that's all," Genta waved it off.

"Still, it's impressive that this year's class managed to actually clear the exercise," Rika politely turned the conversation back towards the topic at hand before it could spiral into an argument about politics. "It's a mostly civilian class, isn't it? Akimichi and Shimura are the only clan children, and even then, they're both from minor branches."

"Akimichi did his clan proud," Yabuki said succinctly.

Genta couldn't help but agree, "A stout heart in stout body, that one. Stuck it out through the whole dungeon, and carried one of his classmates out to boot."

"Shimura performed admirably as well," Rika said, "He was the first out of his cell and showed remarkable mental strength despite tackling the exercise almost entirely alone. His basic skills are certainly a cut above all the rest."

"But still within reason," Yabuki muttered, "unlike this bullshit."

All three Academy teachers turned back towards the television. It was the second time they were watching it – the first time through, they hadn't been watching carefully enough to analyze it properly.

The final room of the exercise was actually a repurposed training room with a seal on the ground that would generate a more durable shadow clone of anyone who passed through the door. Experienced shinobi sparred against themselves to iron out their own weaknesses, but it served as a good lesson for Academy students too. The younger and less experienced you were, the harder it was to overcome yourself. Shimura Naoki was talented enough to land enough hits to dispel his clone, but only after a long and difficult struggle.

It was just bad luck that Namikaze had stepped into the room before Shimura had a chance to recover. The moment Namikaze's clone popped into existence, it had nearly put a kunai through Shimura's eye had Namikaze not hauled him out of the way.

Genta had begun swearing under breath and drafting up some safety revisions that needed to be added to the room's seal before they put another class through this test. No one expected this level of lethality coming from any six-year-old who just started at the Academy, but in hindsight, they really ought to have. Konoha was known for churning out prodigies, after all. It was almost their iconic national export.

Watching Namikaze's clone fight was like watching a taijutsu instruction manual in live action. Textbook perfect forms, chained together efficiently in a way that usually took shinobi years of live combat experience to learn. Sure, the Academy had seen stronger, faster, more powerful students, but they had never seen any kid who fought with such machinelike efficiency. The idea that Namikaze had taught himself this level of hand-to-hand combat from a textbook was a chilling thought.

Except, as he fought his own clone, Namikaze stayed strictly defensive, parrying, keeping his distance, and doing nothing but observe. He failed to capitalize on several chances to counterattack. It wasn't until the very end of the battle that he finally went on the offensive, and the reason for his hesitance finally became clear. He engaged his clone with a nearly perfect mirrored sequence of taijutsu, except, not quite. There were small changes – a slightly less extended elbow here, a shorter swing there, an additional half-step in the sideways dodge – tailored to better accommodate his own tendencies.

It was one thing to master textbook forms. It was another thing entirely to come up with personalized improvements during live combat and apply them on the fly.

"Should we graduate him now, or send him to Torture and Intelligence for impersonating an Academy student?" Rika asked in a completely serious tone.

"He's been in Konoha since he was eighteen months old," Yabuki said bluntly, "Not even Kiri starts them that young."

The small blonde on the television screen finally dispatched his own shadow double with rusty kunai through the eye. No hesitation, not even when driving a sharp piece of metal through a reflection of his own face.

Genta let out a low whistle.

"He's going to be a monster when he's grown."

Rika made a soft sound of agreement.

Yabuki mutely picked up the remote, rewound the tape, and played it from the beginning once again.

. . .

Author's Note:

Urgh, so this chapter was originally supposed to be half the length it currently is, because I originally wrote it entirely from point of view of the Academy teachers. It also covered Minato's entire Academy career up until the point where Kushina would have showed up.

Except I wanted to add some details about the Academy's hazing ritual from Saburou's point of view, and it kind of spiraled out of control. So. Uh. Sorry. No Kushina yet, or any other canon characters, but I promise they're coming!

Saburou's name is shamelessly copied from Minato's teammate in 'The Girl from Whirlpool', by the way. I'm headcanoning that the rather pudgy teammate in the Team Jiraiya picture is an Akimichi named Saburou.

Also, we now have cover art! Here's a bigger version of it for anyone interested:

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