Year 49 P.P. - Ruins of Leaf Village

He is an apparition in a world of sand the wind howling like the damn, yet his good humor appears to remain. Looking closer perhaps the wild face-splitting grin he wears and the increasingly gleeful cackles he gives are a sign of madness. Yes, it must be madness for abruptly he sobers ghostly white, silken locks dancing in the rising wind. Through the thickening veil of flying sand lies young face appears preternaturally serious. He is a hundred and seventeen years old give or take a decade. He doesn't look much older then fifteen hasn't looked otherwise for forty-nine years thanks to his mistake. Today he hopes to begin a path to rectify that mistake among many others. Slowly that face-splitting grin begins to rise again.

"Hn, the world's greatest kawakami." Or so he calls it because doing otherwise would brashly open the door to thoughts best unbeheld. 'This too could fail.' Ignoring the philosophical wraith beside him Jiraiya continues to work. As always he retreats into the childish behavior that has been his standby for as long as he can remember. False bravado is better then timidity if only because he will go through with this come Hell or High water. The pressure is dropping around him as the wind picks up drawn by the metaphysical maelstrom of energy he creates. "Sarutobi-sensei, Arashi-kun what would you think of this?" 'It's alright, but who was Hokage?' 'Damn phantoms, not even now do they respect me!', thinks a growling Jiraiya as he begins the final set of intricate seals grateful for his stolen regenerative abilities. Still he thinks it a strange thing to cut himself so deeply and so often without fear of bleeding to death.

Not for the first time he thinks this is something he will have to be very careful of revealing when he switches with his younger self. At the very least he will hide this and everything else for as long as he can, not that that promises to be long. After all he is dealing with geniuses, real geniuses unlike himself; people who don't inadvertently destroy that which they sought to protect. ' No instead they go at it directly all honesty and heartless betrayal. Or else they let stupid sentimentality cloud their judgment until it's too late. Or best of all they just walk away until they're forced to return.' "Shaddup brat." The sun is beginning to set on the horizon by the time he finishes.

Carefully he strips at the edge of the seal array barely acknowledging the evening chill. Though he shivers he knows it is due more to excitement then physical discomfort. 'We really don't need to see that kid.' "Yeah, whatever - I'm not gonna miss ya'll." Despite his grumbling he is almost overly cautious as he steps within the vast array and begins to trek inward. He has worked on this idea for the last twelve years, has toyed with the concept for seven more and has all, but bled himself dry the last year and a half to make it possible. Now he's standing in the center of this fantastic construction forming an impossibly simple set of hand sign ending in the sign of ram. Strange his hands are shaking as he waits, too bad - this is it. Either he makes it or he doesn't, but there is no room for fear or error. It's so calm just like last time only this time he can hear his heart loud and deep and so alive. Will it hurt? A thousand, thousand heartbeats and suddenly the world fades - "There." He's going home.

It is the middle of the night when an explosion of chakra occurs that will not meet it's match until the night of the Kyuubi attack. Instantly shinobi and kuonichi bound from their beds and race toward the event. Sadly they are too slow even the Anbu even the Hokage. However, at least two children know beyond a doubt that they saw a young naked man wave and wink at them before vanishing like the wind. Unfortunately they will tell no one, but each other and a single grandchild a piece when they are very old. As such though the Anbu search high and low they will not find the source of this energy. Not even the Inuzuka will be successful in tracking the interloper. Perhaps they would have faired better if they focused on the lower end of Konoha, at least that is what Sarutobi will think in the coming years.

'It worked, it worked, it worked!' Happily, mindlessly the white-haired man dances about his room as he shrugs on his clothing with a carelessness he hasn't exhibited for years. If it weren't two in the morning he'd really let loose, but as it is he's already hearing old lady Chong's broomstick against his floor. "Sorry!" Not really, not with such a joyful grin plastered on his face. Finally he sits on his poor excuse of a bed to really, well think. For the briefest moment he gives thought to the plight of a younger, more helpless Jiraiya tossed into a world without friends and haunted by ghosts. Only for the briefest moment does he think of such things because there is too much joy within him to be weighed down with ifs and perhaps; besides it's not like anyone really knows how time travel woks anyway, for all he really knows he is the boy he was as well as the man he is.

The clock's ticking is the only sound in the room as the false youth takes a moment to review what he thought he just thought...ed. Blinking owlishly he decided to rest since obviously he's too drained to think straight. Besides thanks to his spectacular arrival he'll need to report to Sarutobi-sensei tomorrow. Sarutobi-sensei alive and well and...young-er! Giggling as he snuggles under the dingy covers he pities the poor Anbu who have to be more than a little frustrated. He imagines chibi-formed Anbu under personal rain clouds bawling waterfalls as the sandaime stands behind them wreathed in Doom. This has to be the best prank ever pulled! He gives an incredibly wolfish grin as he ponders just how jealous/proud Naruto would or will be. His expression sobers quickly as he figures out that Naruto won't be born for another eighteen years or so. Abruptly he feels like he's suffocating a heavy weight in his chest where his heart should be. Morning finds him still as death beneath the under washed blankest his eyes huge and blank with shock…and fright.

Sometime between dawn and now he must of finally fell asleep. Too bad he hadn't set his alarm. Rolling onto his side he fully expects to see his most persistent ghost instead he meets nothing, except Tsuande's fist. 'She still hits as hard as ever.' Luckily by this time in his life as a gennin - well chunin his body has adapted well to Tsuande's inhuman strength. Thus his ever more appreciated regenerative ability goes unnoticed as the tom-boyish blonde launches into one of her patented lectures. 'Well I didn't miss these.' 'Liar', says a tiny whisper that may or may not sound familiar. Rubbing his temples Jiraiya is glad he dressed for the day before climbing into bed else he would have ran the risk of making her even madder with bumbling delay. As it is he is free to watch her temper play it's self out while greedily sucking up all the details. Eventually his rapt attention punctures her ire leaving her uncomfortable and skittish.

"What?! Is something on my face? Are you being a pervert?! What?!!" All he can do is smirk especially at the pervert comment. Hopefully he can jumpstart that area of his personality before he becomes too suspicious. Abruptly he remembers watching a building burn as people scream. He can almost feel a pair of childish pouting lips monotonously parroting a jaded script. 'Is it good for you?' A woman's face wavers above him. Somehow he's ended up on the floor gasping for breath beyond the all-encompassing nausea. 'She looks upset, but my she's pretty.' Belatedly he recognizes Tsuande's face somehow unfamiliar in it's concern, it's worry, it's fear. A hopeless laughter betrays his growing hysteria as he awkwardly realizes this isn't a simple genjutsu change- it's her actual face. 'Guess her genjutsu was closer then I thought.' "Jiraiya, you're shaking." He can barely hear her over his own shouting for her to go away or at least that's what he wants to do. Instead he violently vomits as she grows more distressed.

An hour later he is refusing to meet anyone's eyes for fear of ghosts and madness. Instead he lies in his freshened bed stretching his senses. Close beside him he smells the sweetish scent of apple- flavor tobacco, further away though still too close are the scents of the coolness under soil and the tang of antiseptics. From somewhere inside he cringes remembering he'd never had them over and they'd never invited themselves over as he might have. The Old man's hands are cool and curiously kind upon his upturned face. Focusing on Sarutobi's he feels the suppressed chakra, can hear the hidden pulse, can almost taste the 'scentless' milk-based soup Ama-san always bought. She came apart when sensei died.

Tears prick at the corners of eyes. His breathing briefly hitches. Idiot - he hasn't cried in years - so many, many years. The strong, calloused hands move now - one going to stroke his hair, the other taking up his hand. He doesn't dare respond afraid it'll all go away - those strong, clever fingers disappearing leaving him bereft. The atmosphere is heavy with confusion and cowering behind his eyelids he can just imagine the looks on their faces; but why imagine when he can just open his eyes and see? Because seeing isn't believing - he has seen these people a thousand times before despite them being very dead. His madness is after all a very real thing. The hand in his hair stills. "Jiraiya.. Open your eyes for me."

Turning his head to the wall he tries to project his heartsickness hoping it'll make the man beside him back off. Silly he knows Sarutobi isn't one to leave well enough alone. It's just he's heard these words before, in fact sometimes they were all the motive he had to get up in the morning; but each time he heard them the onslaught of emotions was staggering. "Jiraiya." A warning now, the warmth being replaced with frustration. Not that the sannin really cares- frustration rarely kills. "Jiraiya!" Anger now - and maybe fear.. For him?

It's hard to concentrate with the hard, cruel fingers forcing his face toward the building chakra. "Jiraiya." Seemingly of it's on violation his body reacts, eyelids slowly sliding up as his mouth opens in a silent gasp. Meanwhile his mind is finally coming to terms with his actions. This is real or at least as real as life has ever been. These are not phantoms or tricks of the mind. "Sarutobi-sensei." Something in his tone makes even him wonder, but then again Sarutobi-sensei died so long ago and - "Sarutobi-sensei?" Again these hands made for killing become kind and caring as they lay him back lingering briefly upon his heavy head. "Rest." And finally for the first time he can remember in however long he does so without fear of buildings burning.

Standing slowly Sarutobi Sasuke motions for his other subordinates to follow him out of Jiraiya's flat. Outside the dim room Tsuande nervously drags one long ponytail through her fingers. In a truly distracting fashion (at least to her pale teammate) she gnaws her full bottom lip worry a bright light in her honey-brown eyes. Orochimaru couldn't careless as evident by his posture against the wall - never mind his unnatural tension or the slight tightening around his huge amber eyes. Sarutobi glares into the distance his face thoughtful and grim. Seeing the responses of his students he is quick to reassure them. "He should be fine with rest, however something has obviously happened to him. The hows and whys are a mystery as is the severity…" It doesn't take a genius to see where this is going. "Do not worry Sarutobi-sensei we as his teammates will watch over him- as always." Trust Orochimaru to jump in like that he always was the more politically minded one.

Holed up in one of Mt. Kage's hidden caves Jiraiya tries to concentrate. It's rather difficult to do so when you're paranoia as hell. Honestly prying Orochi off his tail was enough to give him a stroke. Tsuande was only a little better her 'newer' distance combating her need to not lose anyone else. One of the better things about introducing Naruto to Tsuande was watching the brat crack the layers of protection Tsuande built around herself over the years. Speaking of which that was one of the things he needed to think about. He is supposed to be here to change the future or the past.. Whatever. However, his advantage mostly existed in his foreknowledge which would be all but nullified if he tried to play superman and change everything.

So then, what should he change? Bringing his head back into the wall again he tries not to let his headache get to him. Bringing up his pen again he looks down at the list in his lap. In a manner far superior to his normal handwriting are many dates divided into BK (Before Kyuubi) and AK (After Kyuubi). He has made it back to 24BK a year after Nawaki died so that's one event he can't change. 'I want to' however Tsuande needed to leave the village 'cause 1.) that's what happened the first time and 2.) someone needed to remain non-complacent and sharp. Complacency led to destruction as his former past revealed. So then, none of the matters influencing Tsuande's leaving could be changed…

A half hour later finds him red-eyed and bone-tired. At the very least his list is complete with all the things he can and can't interfere in or with. It's 24BK now, so he has sixteen years until he needs to act in any big way. Damn he could use a drink… and maybe a break somewhere in Wave. Pretty, pretty Wave… First however… he needed to create a special hedge; something unbreakable, undetectable, and virtually easy to maintain chakra wise. He has a bit of leeway for a while, but you can only look exactly the same for so long. Taking out another sheet of paper he begins to run through possible designs as he thinks about possible test subjects and where he can get them.

Sarutobi the Sandaime sits back in his chair a pipe in his mouth as always ignoring both his growing paperwork and his frustrated students. Jiraiya always did excel at the traits of espionage so it's not surprising he gave his teammates the slip. However, Jiraiya has always sought attention so to have him so withdrawn especially from his teammates is...ah a manner for concern. Beyond that the reports from his other students is discording. Jiraiya appears to have lost his perverted streak. Staking out bathhouses and brothels no longer seems to be his thing. Beyond that he has no desire for saké and has taken an ungodly interest in pranking.

His relationship with Sakumo seems to be as strong as ever although he appears to drawing away from Tsuande and Orochimaru. And recently he has begun to make advances toward the little Hyuuga twins Hiashi and Hizashi. 'What does it mean? What are you planning Jiraiya?' Turning back to his present students he frowns slightly - "You two are to continue your monitoring efforts as well as investigate your teammate's recent activities, however this is all secondary to your current duties - understand? Good, dismissed."

From his perch outside Sarutobi's office Jiraiya ponders over what this means for his plans. Needing to move he waits 'til Orochi and Hime are gone before teleporting to a certain room at an old, brown house. Shaking his head at the laughable security he forces open the window to relieve the stuffiness before reaching for the little blonde baby. "Hey, Arashi how are you doing?" Cradling the child carefully he tickles his tummy and coos at him. A prompt from his various kage bunshin informs him that the tasks he ordered are complete. If he is to begin work on his plans he'll have to go now. "Sorry little one I'll see you when I can later." Hearing the baby begin to fuss as he shuts the window from outside he almost relents. Almost, but then he remembers exactly what's at stake.

Dusting off his hands he checks to be sure his set up is virtually invisible. At least this way even if he is found to be missing it won't be until he's far, far away. Shrugging on his pack he heads for the northwest wall arguably the least protected sector as well as the exit he knows best. Hopefully this won't take more then a week or two including travel meaning he'll be back before the 'sneak' attack from Iwa. He needs to be seeing as it'll be one of his greatest claims to fame. Gathering his presence like a cloak about himself he all but disappears. Behind him the scroll he has buried begins to count down even as it sends chakra gathering tendrils into the soil. At 9:10 tomorrow morning it will release the first of many chakra-reinforced kage bunshin.

"Hey stupid!" Ichikage was not having a good day. First he had to duck and dodge the Teammates and the Old man, then he had to begin writing the scripts for Icha Icha Paradise. Unfortunately a small monkey summons interrupted him causing him to waste energy in a flashy distraction. Said flashy distraction led to more running from the Teammates who he'd just lost in the first place. Now he had to deal with the Aggravating One - Sakumo. Thankfully the Scroll would be recharged enough soon for him to leave this troublesome situation with someone else. "Oi, are you listening bastard?!"

Leaping nimbly over the wall he pauses to survey the area. 'Goddamn this dang tattoo itches!' Becoming one with the shadows he makes his way toward his bunshin generator. However, someone awaits him there. Shit… the only other brat with old man hair. Not that it matters, he can make more and this is the perfect excuse to. Soundlessly he flickers through a quick set of signs, "Scroll Destruction: Activate." The ground barely shifts over the buried instrument, but it's enough. "Jiraiya? Stop hiding you punkass coward. I know you're there." Ignoring his best friend in favor of some bit of rest he sinks into the ground and vanishes.

Two hours later he is at the gate shaking off sleep and trying to remember frame by frame what previously occurred.. The false caravan is approaching and will be entering any moment now. Stretching out his senses he can feel the Konoha ninjas in the trees which means the Old man got his note. Stepping forward he engages what ought to be the leader. Soon there is a massive fight in the area before the gate so much so that in the end he gives up trying to be low key and begins to fight as the sannin he is.

Two Kage Bunshin join him all three go through the motions of summoning through only one draws blood. Slamming their hands on to the earth before they cry: "Summoning: Supremacies: Awakening." The clones vanishes as Jiraiya stamps his foot and the ground comes alive. The elite Iwa agents begin to scream as the ground beneath them contorts and gyrates forming waves, hands, mouths, and holes to capture and crush them. Twenty minutes later Jiraiya stands alone before the gate even as the gathered nins behind him whisper. With an unseen sign the white-haired 'youth' vanishes from view.

End Chapter One

This is the first chapter of a multi-chapter work. For the record it's only going to get more complicated from here on. It'll also be dark, very dark. However, the story style will probably change periodically for example after chapter three the story won't be as jumpy as this chapter's events. However, it won't become incredibly linear. I believe in the intelligence of my readers and so I write as though those reading are more then capable of "looking underneath the underneath" i.e. context clues and subtext. Anyway… Confused? Post a review for a personal reply or see the forum.

Next time in Chapter Two:

The Hatakes, Forbidden Work, and Hoodwinking Death