A/N: I launched this chapter ahead of time to show those few people following this story that I haven't abandoned it. It's just that real life turned out to be more hectic than I anticipated. I'll try and finish it by the end of this week and update it. In the meantime, I hope you'll enjoy this 'preview'.

Chapter 3: The Gallant and The Flash!

It was a dark midnight in Konohagakure. The only source of light, asides from the pale moon, was coming from the sentries scattered around: two watch-towers in the main gate and several patrols on the ground, pacing back and forth in a predetermined route. There were also dim lights emanating from Konoha's Hospital and a small, well-hidden facility in which shinobi in charge of the invisible barrier around the village were working incessantly. Within walking distance of the Hokage Rock, in which the stoic faces of Konohagakure's leader and his predecessors were carved, there was a building with a red and white color palette that would usually stand out among the rest if it wasn't for the indiscriminate pale blue hue that had dripped over the village. The kanji for 'fire' was imprinted in it.

To a keen yet uninformed eye, there was a lot wrong with that building. For starters, it was the only building where the second story window was completely open, a faint whiff of smoke emerging out of it and then immediately having it's trajectory changed by the light breeze of Spring. The end of the night signalled the end of the first month. It was already first of February. Another notable feature was that the first floor seemed depressingly vacant. Whoever lived there was used to a solitary life: a life filled with battle and diplomatic hardships. The life of a Hokage.

The interior of the second floor of the Hokage Residence was rather spacious. The man himself idled in the back, his legs crossed and his back slightly hunched, a brown pipe hanging from his mouth. He had abandoned his formal Hokage attire for a more comfortable set of black, silky clothes. He had intentionally positioned himself away from the window. His legendary prowess gave him the luxury of a little bit of carelessness, but even the strongest shinobi in the Leaf was wary of any potential attempt on his life, especially considering the Five Nations were embroiled in a vicious war and there were a lot of Hidden Villages after his head. In front of him, there was a shogi table. The pieces on his side were already set up but there was no one to initiate the game opposite him.

The sigh which escaped Sandaime's chapped lips as he puffed out an impressive amount of smoke was quickly drowned by the choir of cicadas outside. The middle-aged man frowned in anticipation. His chakra flared. His ears perked up. The door creaked open but only a little bit. The line of sight was so small that, to the untrained eye, it might have seemed like the creak was the work of the seasonal breeze. However, in that 1/10th of a second, Hiruzen was able to make out a spiky, white mane in the dark. A whoosh sound pierced the air as the Sandaime instictively raised his right hand up, clasping what seemed to be a cylindrical object. The movement was so fast that the puff of smoke coming from the pipe went past his face, 'causing him to glower in response. In spite of his speed, there was no sense of urgency looming over the Sandaime's actions; he already knew who was behind the door.

"When did you sense me?" A sturdy voice broke the silence.

"Since you entered the Residence." Hiruzen replied matter-of-factly, placing the scroll which was thrown at him near the shogi table before using the same hand to remove the pipe out of his mouth, though not before exhaling another mass of smoke.

"And here I thought paperwork had made a geezer like you duller."

The door had been completely open. A tall man came in - so tall, in fact, that he slouched as he passed through the threshold. He was wearing a black attire with a grey armor plate over it, standard Jonin combat attire of the time. Two white, spiky bangs framed his face, going past the bandana with the Leaf symbol and reaching up to his shoulders. His hair was tied up and resembled a lion's mane, covering his back. He was modestly handsome, with two distinguishable red lines of paint drawn from his eyes to the lower parts of his cheeks and a small wart on the left side of his nose.

As his eyes adjusted to the mighty figure before him, a smile formed in Hiruzen's face.

"You're not the first person to make that mistake, Jiraiya-kun."

The man, now revealed to be the Honored Sage, Jiraiya, smiled back at his Sensei's uncharacteristically boastful response. He made a mental note of the shogi table before traipsing towards it.

"Long time no see."

"Indeed." Hiruzen responded, placing his left hand's thumb on the smoking pipe, depriving it of oxygen.

"How are the kids?"

"They're doing fine."

"And how's Biwako-sama?" Jiraiya queried with a pained grunt as he sat down opposite to his sensei, a small wince betraying his controlled facial expressions.

The Sandaime slightly furrowed his brows as he traced his underachiever pupil's sluggish movements. Empathy welled up inside him, but he made sure it didn't show too much in his face. He knew how prideful Jiraiya was; he never reacted well to any open display of pity towards him.

"She's in the hospital with Tsunade, treating the wounded. Said she's gonna have to pull another all-nighter."

"Ah. There's no such thing as normal working hours in times like these, eh?" Jiraiya spoke, having assumed a legs crossed, back hunched position just like his Sensei, though he looked about a foot taller than him even then. He began arranging the pieces on the shogi table.

Hiruzen nodded wistfully in response. For a while, there was no noise besides the singing cicadas and the clack which the shogi pieces made as they struck the wooden board.

"So, Jiraiya-kun, what have you got for me?" Hiruzen eyed the scroll to his right

"Some details," Jiraiya replied, his sight fixed on the table. "But I'm sure you're already on the know about the big news. Iwagakure's officially entered the game."

Hiruzen was well aware of what the Jonin was referring to. Iwagakure was the only country who had been taking part in the ongoing war via proxies and, for a while, was Hiruzen's only hope for a peaceful resolution to it. Unfortunately, the Hokage failed to capitalize on it. Iwagakure began to get more closely involved with the war until they eventually deployed their own troops, effectively escalating it. What was once referred to as The Great War quickly became the Second Shinobi World War. Different leaders had different views on this recent development. To the Sandaime, it was the worst possible outcome. It meant more troops deployed and therefore more lives lost.

"Are those details something to fret over?"

"I guess." Jiraiya responded, having finally organized his pieces. With a seamless move, he put forth one of his pawns. "Kumogakure have secured the favor of Amegakure's leader, Hanzo. He's allowing their troops passage through the village in exchange for a monthly supply of necessities - clothes, food, water."

"Hanzo The Salamander?" Hiruzen queried almost immediately, carefully advancing one of his pieces in the table.

"You know him?" Jiraiya didn't recognize the epithet but still raised his head inquisitively. After what seemed like an eternity of looking at the board, his sight was finally met by his Sensei's assenting nod.

"I may have butted heads with him once or twice during the last World War. Back then, he used to work as a mercenary."

"Was he tough?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle." Jiraiya's eyes lingered on Hiruzen's aging face. There was an unspoken but in the manner he delivered his reply which Jiraiya withheld from commenting on, choosing to put his focus back on the game at hand as it went on. Besides, there was a lot of valuable intel which had been compiled in the scroll - it was impossible to sum all of it up in one night.

After a few seconds of silence, the air around the Jonin shifted, his face lighting up. Hiruzen noticed immediately but didn't bother to lift his head."So, Geezer-sensei, what was it that gave me away?" He asked, rubbing his nape as he stretched back, using his left hand as a crutch. "I suppressed my chakra signature almost completely and I'm a hundred percent sure I didn't make any noise."

"Your smell." Hiruzen fired back immediately, a crooked smirk forming as his student's face contorted humorously in response. "I've got a good nose. And you smell like a wet frog."

"Eeeeh?" is all Jiraiya could muster as he began sniffing his armpits. The exaggerated action prompted a joyful chuckle from the Sandaime, his eyelids stretching into thin lines. For a brief second, he slipped into the figure of Sandaime as seen from the eyes of a child - the friendly man who seemed to always make time to talk earnestly to the villagers.

"I really need to take a shower." Jiraiya spoke miserably.

"Yes, you do." A decisive clack nearly echoed around the room. Jiraiya looked down at the board only to be greeted by a checkmate. His shoulders slouched tiredly once again.

"Well, shit." He cursed under his breath before using his hands to huddle all the pieces together. "Remind me of our win-loss ratio again?"

"Twenty five to nil."

"Yeah, that figures." Jiraiya spoke in a comically dejected tone. Shogi was not his game. He was not a particularly cerebral person, though his skills for espionage and subterfuge were unmatched by everyone in the Leaf, including Konohagakure's prodigious genius, Sakumo Hatake.

"I may have something that will cheer you up." Hiruzen said almost proudly. Immediately, he removed the shogi board out of the way in preparation. With an effortless formation of seals, he placed his hand on the ground, 'causing a small puff of smoke and leaving a summoning mark on the carpet. Out of thin air, a scroll had materialized in his left hand. Jiraiya cupped his chin as he leaned forward, trying to read the writing on the scroll. It had the kanji for "4" inscribed in it. A bemused expression overtook his face.

"Remember when you applied to have your own Genin team?" Hiruzen continued.

"Tsk. Is that what this is?!" Jiraiya retreated back apathetically. "Geezer-sensei, you have the worst timing. I applied almost a year ago. Things were different back then. I can't take care of a team right now, you need me out th-"

"Not for another two months, I don't." Hiruzen interjected. With a quick flick of the wrist, he threw the scroll to Jiraiya who caught it with minimal effort. "Jiraiya," Hiruzen continued, the lack of a honorific a telltale sign that he was gonna admonish him, even if lightly. "What have I taught you all these years? No matter the era, one must always find the time to nurture the next generation. Our future depends on it."

"Even so, what am I gonna teach these kids in two months?" Jiraiya grumbled.

"I trust you'll do your best. I've picked a suitable team for you." Hiruzen replied. "One of those boys is special."

The words piqued Jiraiya's interest, if only slightly. As amicable as he was, it was not often that the Sandaime praised someone without merit. Suddenly, flashes back to a different point in time began to assault the young Jonin. He recalled himself standing in front of the Great Toad Sage, Gamamaru as he delivered a prophecy - that the young Sage would one day train a shinobi who would either bring great peace or great destruction to the Shinobi World. Jiraiya eyed the scroll for a bit and thought of popping it open. In the end, he decided against it; there was a long list of things he had to do before that.

"I understand." Though determination surged through Jiraiya's veins, he still spoke begrudgingly. "I'll do my best."