“I believe you wished to discuss certain matters,” Sarutobi said, breaking the silence between them.

Conrad had donned his terrible but effective disguise as soon as Inoichi had told him that the old Hokage wanted to talk to him. Which Conrad had been asking to do for the last few days.

Repeatedly.

He had spent his walk towards the tower remembering everything that had happened since he had been ambushed in the middle of a forest by dozens of masked Shinobi. Each memory annoyed or irritated him and he felt like he was psyching himself up for a fight. Verbal or otherwise.

By the time he had entered Sarutobi's office, he had been ready to yell his heart out at the man or set something on fire. The piles of paper on the desk had been tempting. He had been stopped in his tracks by the sight of the old man reading a scroll, sitting at an angle in an odd chair with wheels that clearly showed the bandaged stump of where one of his legs had been.

The old jerk probably had done that on purpose, Conrad knew. How dare he make Conrad feel sorry for him?

"Well? Feel free to be blunt, Harissen-san," the Hokage asked in a tone that reminded Conrad of his teachers back at the College.

He lowered the half-raised accusing finger and took a moment to collect his thoughts. There were many things he wanted to talk about, but first he wanted to address some of the issues that concerned him the most. He had uncovered quite a few in the last days.

"You make children fight. Like soldiers," he said slowly, deciding to go straight to one of the first things he disliked about Konoha. “You send them to dangerous missions and quests that could end their very young lives.”

"Ah," Sarutobi said, closing the scroll and putting it on the desk. "I had guessed you would have an issue with that."

"You guessed?"

Sarutobi nodded sharply, then gestured for Conrad to take a seat. “Let us be very clear, Harissen-san... You are an outsider. Our ways are not your ways, and you do not get to spend a scant few months in my village and judge us.”

City, you mean. But Conrad decided not to pursue that matter and focus more on his complaints.

“I can judge the facts. Sending children to fight and die is一”

“Necessary,” Sarutobi finished for him. “Not because I enjoy it, let me be clear about that… How old are the cities in your homeland, Harissen-san?”

Conrad stared at the man for a moment and wondered if the sudden change of topic meant that he had gone senile on him.

“How is that important?”

“Humor me,” the Hokage simply said. Conrad frowned, quickly did the math, realized that he didn’t know how to say numbers above one-hundred in Akavirian and suppressed the tinge of annoyance he felt. He was pretty sure that nobody here could count in Nedic, though.

“The youngest cities… a few hundred. The oldest, more,” he said with a shrug. Technically the oldest city in Skyrim had been built before mankind had shown up on its shores, but Conrad supposed that the Hokage hadn’t meant the dead, ruined ones full of giant spiders and mechanical monstrosities.

“Really, now?” Sarutobi said, and for a moment there was something different in the tone of his voice. “There are places that are as old as those in the Elemental Nations, but not many… Konoha itself is not even one hundred years old.”

Conrad frowned at that. “Young age for a big city.”

“Village,” the Hokage stubbornly and corrected him. “But yes. Shinobi have existed for a long time before the founding of the Hidden Villages. Back then, children were sent to fight at an even younger age. Most of them never lived to see their tenth birthday.”

“Why?” he asked. That just seemed like… a waste. Not just of lives, but of potential warriors, academics and members of the community for years to come. They could contribute a lot better if they were allowed to grow and prosper. And these children could probably grow and bloom better in their adult age, where they could be efficiently used as a soldier if they truly wanted to be.

“Shinobi clans warring with each other and the desperate need to bring more soldiers to the field as soon as possible. Doing otherwise would’ve meant an entire clan being wiped out by enemy clans… We’re not here to give you a history lesson, though.”

“Fair,” Conrad nodded. He could always ask Inoichi later.

“Today, genin are placed into teams with a jonin, a more experienced Shinobi, that acts as their teacher and protector,” Sarutobi explained, stressing out the last word. “They’re not thrown into battle as quickly as possible, they’re assigned to missions they can handle. There used to be exceptions, mind you, but… that stopped a few years ago.”

“Are you trying to say… that things got better?” he asked slowly. That wasn’t exactly how Conrad would’ve put it.

“In a way. As a society, we shinobi resist the idea of change, but the current age was ushered by the greatest change in centuries. Change happens all the same, but not as much as it could or should have.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Have you ever made a mistake, Harissen-san?” Sarutobi asked him, taking a long drag from his pipe. “A mistake that you regret years, or even decades, later?"

Oh, this was just playing dirty, and the old geezer knew it. “Everyone makes mistakes. Such is life. No matter how old or special, experienced or powerful you are, one is still bound to make mistakes.”

Sarutobi nodded at that, apparently satisfied with his answer. "I admit that I could have done better. I’ve made some good choices, but I’ve also made mistakes. Those with consequences that are still felt today. Especially regarding your real concern一Naruto.”

Conrad nodded, remaining silent. Sarutobi may have been changing the topic, but if the Nord was being honest with himself, he cared about this one more.

“I understand that you’re upset, but as I’ve told you before, it was for his safety,” the Hokage tried to reassure him. “Minato’s enemies一”

“Minato? Don’t bring Minato into this! He was dead. This one is on you.”

“That may be,” Sarutobi continued without much as a flinch, “but it doesn’t change that we were stretched thin when Minato died. Far too thin. A war had just ended, and I dare say we couldn’t have stopped another one from happening if it turned out that the son of the Yellow Flash existed. Had I not taken measures to keep his identity a secret, he probably wouldn’t have survived to meet you.”

“If you truly want to protect him-”

“You think I could?” Sarutobi interrupted. “After what you saw during the invasion and what you see in me now, do you still think we have the strength to protect him from those who truly mean him harm? I take everything rationally as much as I am an idealist on situations Harrisen-san. His father was a hero of Konoha. But like every hero, he is cursed as the devil on our enemies.”

“Minato took thousands of lives in his lifetime, if not more. All to protect the village. Nothing more.” Sarutobi lit up his pipe. “But he had slain thousands of daughters, fathers, sons, wives, sisters, brothers and friends of our enemies. Their hatred still burns, most of them still cry for vengeance even to this day. Even after he died.”

“And the country you had landed upon is the same country that hated your brother.” Sarutobi pointed his pipe towards him. “Even if both of our countries is at peace for now, there are still hidden fights, skirmishes and behind the scenes battles between the two of our villages. And they are not the type to let go of past grievances if they somehow knew that he had a living son. Assassination is not the only thing that’s on their list.”

“But even if what you say is true…” Conrad growled. “No matter how you say it, in the end you abandoned Naruto to live alone as a child! He is not an adult who could carry the burden of being alone, hated and cursed even by the people of his-village, just because he is the son of my brother!”

“Yes,” Sarutobi admitted, a shadow of sadness briefly showing on his face. “You may not believe me, but I care deeply for Naruto. He is like a grandson to me, and I’ve tried to be as involved as my position allowed me. But I did what I could. He was fed. He was given a roof over his head. He was kept safe. Nobody ever tried to hurt him… But not even a Kage can order his people to love someone."

“Love?! The whole street was glaring at him. I can only imagine how he must have suffered when the children of his own age bullied him. And the people probably did worse than what I have seen. Don’t you tell me that it’s because he likes pranks,” he pointed out, remembering Naruto’s pathetically obvious lie. “It would have not been impossible if he grew up hating to be the child of Minato!”

Conrad know this, because he have seen racial discrimination even back in my homeland. Unlike him, most nords hated other races, especially dunmers and argonians. It made him sick. That’s why it was the first thing he changed after the civil war.

“To be honest, he did prank a lot of people around Konoha. For the attention, you see,” Sarutobi’s half-smiled as he said that. “As for the real reason…”

“Yes?” Conrad asked eagerly, leaning and glaring towards the old shinobi.

“I think it’s best for Naruto to tell you that, when he’s ready,” the Hokage said, as though it were a great revelation. Conrad fell back on his chair, inwardly cursing cryptic, teasing old men everywhere. “I was told that he has informed his teammates already, so I think you should just be patient.”

“Really, now?” he wondered. Kakashi probably wouldn’t tell him anything, but if he asked the girl with pink hair or the kid with the blue shirt, maybe…

“Please don’t harass my genin to tell you S-Rank secrets. Just be patient and Naruto may tell you on his own,” Sarutobi repeated, apparently having read Conrad’s face like an open book. “He seems to care about you a lot.”

“He does?” Conrad couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes. May I ask what do you plan to do, Harissen-san? In the long-run?”

Conrad reflected for a moment. It wasn’t like he’d planned on finding a long-lost relative, but that didn’t mean there weren’t things to take care of back home.

“I’ll need to return to Tamriel sooner or later,” he admits. “I have… business there.”

I need to prepare for what could possibly happen. Especially about Daedric Princes.

“I see.”

“I would like to take Naruto with me,” he added.

Sarutobi met Conrad’s eyes calmly.

“If you think I would allow one of my genin to leave the village to unknown lands and possibly never return, then you’re mistaken.”

Conrad sighed, knowing he should’ve seen it coming.

“He’s family,” he argued with a frown.

“He’s a shinobi.” Sarutobi pieced Conrad with a firm gaze, his mouth set stubbornly. It was clear that the two men disagreed on what came first.

“Does he have to be?” Conrad asked in a softer tone.

“It’s what he wants… and the village needs him.”

“For that reason you won’t tell me,” he pointed out.

“Yes.”

“You’re the Hokage. Can’t you change that?”

“I won’t be Hokage for long,” Sarutobi told him, glancing at his stump. “I’m old, way past retirement. I did retire before. Konoha can’t afford to have an old cripple as its leader. I’m already looking for a successor to take my place.”

"Letting the younger people deal with your mess, I see," Conrad said dryly.

"Isn't that what old people are supposed to do?" the Hokage asked with some mirth, which made Conrad snort. Some truths, apparently, were universal. Even with dragons.

"Very well, then... I'll wait,” he said. The implied ‘for now’ was obvious to both of them. “How long do you think it will take?"

"Depending on how quickly we can find one of the possible candidates, I would say a few months."

"Months?" Conrad asked, eyes widening. He hadn’t expected to wait for so long. He’d probably have to find another ship for the trip back home.

"If you're worried about losing your ship back home, don't be,” Sarutobi reassured him. Was he being that obvious? “From what I've read, the people you arrived with have established quite a… business, so to speak. They've not left the shores of the Elemental Nations, and they’ve been quite well off."

"How so?"

"It was brought to my attention that there's been an influx of goods that didn't pass through the usual markets in some coastal regions," the Hokage said as the only explanation. Conrad blinked for a moment, smirking when it clicked. Smugglers will be smugglers no matter where they were, it seemed. "Speaking of goods, I had a request for you, Harissen-san.”

"Really? After saying ‘no’ to everything I asked?" Conrad asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Let’s say it’s a business proposal,” Sarutobi amended. “It’s about your potions. They were quite a boon after the invasion... I dare say that they saved my life, and that of a few hundred others. From my understanding, the process isn't complex, but time-consuming. And we一"

“You’re stretched thin, yes,” Conrad said. He almost told the Hokage ‘no’ out of spite, but Alchemy was freely available knowledge in Tamriel. Everyone who had the time or resources to study it could learn. The Shinobi and, by extension, Akavir seemed to have forgotten such skills, or maybe they had never possessed them. How many people had died because there was not even a third-grade, barely-working healing potion available?

But after what Inoichi told him, he now know that even their most basic restoration potion is valuable as life itself on this continent. He could make exchange them with better trade later.

“We would compensate you, of course,” Sarutobi added, attempting to sweeten the deal.

“Fine. We can talk terms later,” Conrad agreed, quickly grabbing the chance to make it seem like his decision was based on greed. Besides, he had been kept as an ‘honorable guest’ for way too long for his liking. If there was a chance of making Konoha pay him back for it, he would exploit it.

“I’m sure we will.”

“But first, I want my things back. All of them,” he added. He had started to forget how it felt to wear armor. Not feeling a thick sheet of plate between him and the world for this long felt weird.

“As you said, we can talk about terms later,” the Hokage said, making no commitments. “Were there other things you wanted to speak about, Harissen-san?”

Well, since he was here… “I’m sure Inoichi told you already, but gods are real...”

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Conrad had expected a strong reaction, considering that Konoha and Akavir had apparently forgot about the dangers posed by daedra and their masters.

He had had to cram four Eras of cultural context in the explanation, which had been longer and deeper than the one he had given to Inoichi. Sure, having to use a language he was just getting familiar with wasn’t the best way to give an improvised lecture but thankfully Sarutobi’s office was full of sheets of parchment to give useful visual aids.

Still, he couldn’t help but think that the reaction was a bit extreme. Not unjustified, but extreme.

The shinobi had moved the dremora from the cell, without removing the stone pillar containing him, to a room with a massive round door made of metal with an odd round handle that had to be twisted to open it. It didn’t look like a cell but it sure could keep anything that were put in it inside. Then they started to put even more of those glowing paper tags everywhere. He added a few spells of his own, after asking permission of course. Better not startle the masked guys with a sudden show of light. Just a few runes here and there, nothing lethal to avoid wounding the dremora to the point it would be sent back to the pit it had come from.

Conrad was pretty sure he was allowed to watch this only because he was the closest thing to a dremora expert in the city. He was even asked if he thought this was going to be enough to keep the prisoner secured, and he had to admit, the dremora looked secure enough. Pissed off, glaring at them and unable to yell and curse because they had put one of those papers full of runes on his mouth, but unable to move or return to Oblivion.

It was probably wishing he could kill them all by hating them enough, or maybe just imagining all the kinds of torture it would submit them to if it could.

Conrad was tempted to reveal his little bluff when, a few days earlier, he had threatened to harvest the creature’s soul and turn it into a magical kettle, but decided against it. The threat of a black soul gem, one that Conrad didn’t have, had been the only thing making it somewhat collaborative so far. That and the fact that it had submitted to Sven’s authority and, more importantly, because it couldn’t move. Better keep it that way, just in case.

As the door slammed closed, sealing the dremora inside, one of the masked guards made a few hand signs and slammed his hands on the floor. The tiles in front of the door broke, and a thick wooden wall covered the metal door.

Conrad gave a good look at the masked shinobi that had just made in a few seconds what a carpenter would take days to. He was pretty sure that this was one of the guys that had captured him back in the forest, which he was still pretty annoyed about.

Sure, he had met Naruto as a happy consequence of that incident but he was going towards Konoha anyway. He refused to feel grateful for it.

“Do you think it will be enough?” Inoichi asked as some shinobi started painting the wooden wall to make it look like a normal part of the hallway.

“To stop the dremora? Yes. To stop its masters? No,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I have dealt with many sealed evils, corruptions, possessions and such things in my life. Creatures that had broken free from their imprisonment, artifacts that could cause wars and suffering and other things that had been put away for one reason or another,” he explained, remembering a few of the instances he’d had to deal with over the years. Like that time that Jarl Balgruuf’s kid had started acting oddly. Or Morokei. Or that other Dragon Priest in that ruin, what was it called. Or Miraak.

Oh, and of course, Alduin.

Thanks a lot, ancient Nords.

“And?”

“Those that sealed them away, well… it was always only a delay. Someone was going to have to deal with them in the end,” he finished.

“But you won, right?” Inoichi asked with a smirk.

“Yeah, I did,” Conrad admitted. Being the one, or at least one of the people locking up something because it couldn’t be dealt with at the moment still didn’t feel right, though.

“See, if you managed to defeat those sealed evils, as you called them, then I’m sure that we’ll come up with something.”

Conrad wondered if the blond Shinobi was trying to lighten the mood or to just sound more confident. Some things were stopped by the whims of the daedric princes, not by mortals. Still, he managed to offer the man the ghost of a smile.

“Now come on, Harissen-san,” Inoichi said, putting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him away. “We don’t have much time to prepare for your presentation.”

“My what?”

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

"Are you sure, kid?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'd rather do missions with my team or spend time with my uncle than search for some old lady."

Jiraiya sighed. Of course, Naruto had latched onto Minato's brother and followed him around like a duckling whenever he could. This would make his errand for the Old Man a bit more difficult, he had hoped to bring Naruto to get a bit of an edge.

Well, he had taken this possibility into account. He would just have to make a little adjustment to the plan. He had to pick up a few things first, though.

"Alright, brat. I'm not letting you rest idle while I'm away. Do you think you can blow up a ball with your chakra?"

"Blow up a what?"

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Conrad was regretting not agreeing to something simpler, like writing down some recipes for basic potions and handing them to Sarutobi and Inoichi to figure out. Or he could have just said no, that would’ve meant even less work.

Since he wasn’t planning on sticking around, the Hokage had gotten the idea of having him give some lessons to off-duty shinobi, so that they would be able to produce some basic magical brews even after he was back in Tamriel drinking mead and stealing shiny things from ancient tombs.

After putting down some notes with Inoichi and making some preparations, Conrad had found himself being taken to a large room somewhere in what the Yamanaka called the ‘Research Department’, with high ceilings and lots of rows of tables and chairs. Seated in each and every chair was a shinobi or someone in a white coat, which Conrad had not seen before. By the walls were the masked guards, An-something. He didn’t recognize any of the ones here, but he supposed that they were sent to ensure the security of the meeting and to keep an eye on him since he was such an important guest who would be speaking with people that were apparently very important to the well-being of the city.

They were all staring at him intently as he stood at the front of the room in front of a chalkboard. Somewhere in the back of his head Conrad thought wryly that he hadn’t expected to be back in a classroom again but dismissed it. It was a good place to learn, after all.

“My name is Conrad, and I’ll be teaching you alchemy,” he started, ignoring the odd looks he got. His accent was probably funny to them.

“Alchemy is the discipline that allows you to mix, boil, and distill various ingredients to obtain their magical properties and create powerful and useful potions.” Or poisons, but he was going to explain that later, while he was explaining how to not poison yourself by accident in your own laboratory.

A hand immediately shot up, belonging to a glasses-wearing woman in a white coat sitting right at the front.

“Yes?” Conrad gestured.

“Thank you, Harrisen-san. Forgive me, but you said magic and not chakra. We’ve been briefed, of course, but if we could simply see an example with our own eyes...”

Conrad glanced at Inoichi, who nodded. Of course they would’ve been told about him, but he couldn’t help but wonder how much they had been told given how much Shinobi liked secrets. He suppressed a sigh and raised his hand. With a flick of the wrist and a little push of his will, a little ball of fire was now fluctuating a few inches from his palm.

“This is magic, and it does not run off of chakra,” he explained. “We use an energy called magicka instead.”

Many hands shot up immediately, just as he had expected it. Questions were asked or even shouted out loudly, and there were some murmurs about calling a sensor which Conrad didn’t really catch the meaning for. Of course, they weren’t surprised by the fire. Conrad had seen the shinobi use much more impressive flames during the invasion of Konoha. He had not used those elaborate hand signs to do it though, confusing people that had probably spent their lives studying how Shinobi did things.

One of the researchers closer to Conrad asked what magicka was and where it came from, or at least that was the gist of it from what Conrad could hear as Inoichi and a few other cooler heads calmed down everyone.

“If I were to explain magicka, I would have to speak for hours, and it would not help with what we’re supposed to learn here,” he said, gesturing towards the table where he had set up his alchemical lab and a few potions prepared beforehand. It didn’t help that while there were a lot of theories about magicka’s origin, none had been proven as the absolute truth yet. And possibly never would.

“Can you at least tell us how this magicka is different from chakra?” the woman that had spoken first asked.

“As far as I can tell, I don’t get tired to the point of fainting if I use too many spells. That’s our counterpart for your jutsu, by the way,” Conrad answered after recalling what he had been told about chakra. Shinobi used part of their body to fuel their magic, or jutsu or whatever. No wonder they got tired. He briefly wondered how much chakra influenced a shinobi’s innate physical abilities but since he didn’t want to start a whole conjecture on the subject in his mind during an impromptu lesson, he picked a highly academically incorrect ‘a lot’ and figured he could always study that another time.

“Magic does not use chakra, because chakra is not known back in Tamriel. Anyone can learn alchemy, though.”

Another hand shot up, and Conrad gestured for the man to speak.

“Forgive me, Harrisen-san, but anyone? That seems a bit hard to believe, especially if this… magic is a key part of it.”

“All magical effects were given by the ingredients,” he replied, closing his fist and snuffling the flames. “The alchemist just has to brew the potion correctly. Anyone can do alchemy, as long as they know what they’re doing.”

“We already saw your healing concoctions, they’re… they’re amazing, really. It could change the world and views on medicine. But… what else can alchemy do? Surely there's more or we wouldn't be here.”

Conrad remained silent for a moment, knowing that everyone’s attention was on him.

Then he picked up a vial he had prepared just for the occasion. Thankfully Inoichi’s family garden had a good variety of plants and flowers, some of which he had started to familiarize himself with thanks to the Yamanaka’s sort-of-gracious hospitality.

He wordlessly drank a sip from the liquid and waited for his spectator’s reactions.

And much to their surprise and shock, he disappeared on their very eyes. Some shinobis’ reaction was far less loud but still noticeable, from widened eyes and raised eyebrows to shifts in stance and briefly reaching for their weapons. Probably a reflex reaction.

There was a beat of disbelief, before every single researcher and raised their hands or started asking questions once again. And many jaws dropped.

“As you can see,” Conrad said loudly, so that they could be sure to know that he was still there. “I’m invisible. And all I had to do was to take a drink. I just had to pick a few specific ingredients, and each of those ingredients could be used to obtain a different effect with the right formula.”

The scholars and shinobi in the room stared at Conrad, or at least at the seemingly empty spot where he was standing. Then they suddenly wanted to know everything he could teach them.

By the time he finished answering their questions, the potion had long worn off.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Naruto stared at the ball. So far it had failed to explode no matter how much chakra he pushed into it from his hand.

He stared harder. Pushed harder, focusing to release chakra from both of his hands to get it into the ball. The ball still didn’t explode.

This was getting him nowhere.

He was distracted from his frustrated thoughts by the sudden arrival of his uncle, who dropped a burlap sack on the table.

“What are you doing, boy?” he asked, looking at the ball in Naruto’s hand and the others scattered around the room.

“Training.”

“What training requires you to use toys?”

“Something that Dad made up.”

His uncle stared at him for a few seconds and Naruto almost added that they weren’t toys, they were training equipment, but then the Nord shrugged, seemingly accepting the explanation. He went on to open the sack and spill its contents. The dull clang of metal, a lot of metal actually, broke what little concentration Naruto had left.

It was a bunch of large metal shapes. They looked worn and weathered but each piece was engraved with strange patterns. Along with them came a bundle of buckles, pieces of leather, an odd padded vest and some furs.

Conrad inspected each one carefully, occasionally squinting and rubbing at a spot on the leather, or lightly flicking the metal. Naruto sat in awed silence at the mass of… whatever it was.

“Uncle, what’s that?” he asked. Conrad glanced down at him and dropped the large plate on the table with a clang.

“My armor.”

Naruto blinked. “You actually wear all of this? In a fight?” he asked as he looked at the pile on the table.

“That’s what armor is for,” his uncle told him as he started to fiddle with a gauntlet. Well, sure, it was kinda obvious now that Naruto knew it was armor, but compared to what shinobi or ANBU wore...

“Isn’t it heavy?” he wondered out loud.

“The weight is distributed all over the body. When you wear it you barely feel it.”

Naruto ran his fingers over the edges of the decorations and the scratches on the otherwise smooth metal. He wasn’t so sure how someone could not feel it while wearing it, nevermind after adding all the other parts. Maybe it was like Rock Lee’s weights. Bushy Brows didn’t seem to mind having to carry them the whole time.

Of course, his uncle probably wouldn’t remove his armor during a fight to gain an advantage in speed.

He then realized that Bushy Brows would probably not be able to do that anymore. The last time he had visited him at the hospital, Naruto was told that it would be impossible for Lee to make a full recovery.

“Pass me that, boy,” his uncle gestured to a bundle of buckles and leather, unaware of his thoughts.

“What are those for?” Naruto couldn’t help but ask as he handled them.

“They are straps to keep some of the pieces together when I wear it.”

Naruto watched as Conrad started to untangle some, then his attention moved to some of the other items. “And the furs?”

“Skyrim is cold,” his uncle told him, looking him straight in the eye. Something in the man’s voice convinced Naruto that he was putting it mildly.

After that, his Uncle went back to work and Naruto looked at the thick, dark pelts. If that Sky-Rim place was cold, did it mean that they always wore hides and thick clothes? Naruto took a guess about how to wear them and threw the furs on his shoulders. “How do I look?”

“Like a werewolf pup,” Conrad answered with an amused snort.

“What’s a werewolf?”

“Given what we’ve learned so far about the beasts that infest your uncle’s land, I’m not sure I want to know,” a voice suddenly said. Turning around, Naruto saw Jiraiya, his newest sort-of-teacher, perched on his windowsill.

“Ero-Sennin? What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for your uncle,” Jiraiya told him before turning towards the man. “I thought you were at the Yamanaka place.”

“The boy’s place was closer,” Conrad shrugged. “The guards didn’t stop me.”

Jiraiya seemed to accept that explanation and let out a low whistle at the sight of Conrad’s gear. “Do all Nords go around that armored?”

“No, I travel light,” Conrad replied. “Why were you looking for me?”

Naruto glanced at the armor and weapons laying on his kitchen table. This was ‘traveling light’?!

“I just wanted to ask a few questions,” Jiraiya answered before his eyes fell on the ball in Naruto’s hands. “Oh, you were training already, kid?”

“Of course I am!” Naruto answered proudly. He was no slacker.

“Any progress?”

“... No,” he admitted, deflating a little. “I can’t complete the first part yet.”

“Keep going then, you know what to do,” the Toad Sage told him as he resumed his conversation with Uncle.

Naruto stared at the ball for a moment before going back to try to make it explode. Of course, it refused to.

He didn’t know what annoyed him the most, the stubborn ball or the way his chakra refused to do what he wanted it to. It was his chakra, so it should do what he said! He decided to try to squeeze the ball while pushing the chakra out this time. Nothing.

Stupid ball. Blow up!

“Are you serious?!” Conrad suddenly exclaimed, sounding exasperated.

Naruto looked up, forgetting the ball.

“I just gave a long lesson about it, if you have questions about it you could’ve shown up to the class!” his uncle was talking about something with Jiraiya.

“I was busy with the kid, it takes time to buy all these balls,” Jiraiya said, pointing at the various balls with colorful patterns that were littering the room. “I’m asking because I think the potions are very useful. Especially the red ones…”

“You mean these?” His uncle produced a couple of red vials that caught Naruto’s attention.

“Yes, exactly, “Jiraiya nodded. “See, I have a little trip ahead of me and I thought that having something like that in case of an emergency could be helpful...”

The two adults’ words faded as Naruto kept staring at the two red vials. They seemed to gleam a bit thanks to the sunlight coming from the window.

He could’ve sworn that at times he still felt the aftertaste of those things in his mouth. Sure, his uncle blamed his student for it, the not-cat one, but he couldn’t help but scrunch his face a little.

Although a very bad taste for something able to heal your injuries in a moment didn’t seem like a bad deal.

He perked up as his thoughts came to a stop. An idea slowly started to form in his head.

Those potions could heal injuries quickly. Like, very, very quickly. From deathbed to being well, or at least better, just by drinking them. Because they were potions and you were supposed to drink them.

Well, most kinds of injuries: they had saved the Old Man Hokage’s life but not his leg… he had already lost it. Unlike Lee, whose arm and leg had been badly injured.

And there were two potions right there, in his Uncle’s hand. And you had just to drink them.

Before Naruto knew what he was doing, he had snatched the two red vials and was dashing towards the door.

“SorryUncleIneedtheseI’llexplainlater!” he shouted in a hurry, leaving the two confused men and a completely forgotten rubber ball behind.

Uncle would understand. Naruto knew he would.