Jiraiya looked down at his rapidly expanding collection of genin where they sat in a circle on the floor of the hotel room he'd managed to snag after some gratuitous flirting. The Uchiha was groggy but awake, leaning on Naruto who supported his friend with an easy smile. The Hatake looked...less than pleased to say the least, having tried and failed to cross her arms several times, her scowl deepening with each attempt. It was a far cry from the vapidly polite kid he'd met during the exams and a small part of him felt guilty for any part he may have played in that, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't a relief to finally see past the patently fake smile she and her father shared. They were far too alike for genetic strangers.

Nurture: 1 Nature: 0

"Alright, you two," he said with a weary sigh. "You two need to hightail it back to the Village, now. I don't have time to take care of more than one brat."

The Uchiha bristled, raising what had to be a pounding head to glare at Jiraiya. "No. We're staying with Naruto."

The girl—his girl, he remembered with a shudder—turned black eyes on the boys, sour expression dredging up memories of a woman he almost wished he'd forgotten.

"Before we do anything," she said, straight brows furrowed in an echo of her grandmother's frown. "You two are going to have a long, in depth conversation about tenants who pay rent in chakra and the Mangekyou Sharingan. Naruto, I suggest you go first."

Minato's clone watched with wide, fear filled eyes as she got to her feet. "Y-you know?"

A good question. How had a kid born outside the village learned about Naruto's not so little secret? There was no way Kakashi would have told her. Being a genius could only excuse so much—.

Jiraiya forced his train of thought to stop in its tracks before he got ahead of himself. Again. There were plenty of reasons for her to know about the Kyuubi, most of them perfectly justifiable. Probably.

"That's an S Class secret, chibi-chan," he said seriously.

"One that Sasuke needs to know," she replied just as grimly. "Just like Naruto needs to know about the Sharingan. This incident alone has proved that, but they're teammates, so this information would have needed to be shared eventually."

He disagreed, but one look at the considering look on Naruto's face and he knew he'd lose that fight.

She walked up to him, craning her slender neck to stare up at him with too black eyes rimmed in red. He really didn't want to think about what that meant. "May I borrow your sealing kit? Mine's—." She cut herself off, her right hand reflexively closing into a fist at her side.

Ah. Right. Her seal was broken.

He pulled a roll of paper, brushes and an ink stone from his thigh pouch, making a show of grumbling even as he watched with hawklike vigilance as she began working on a silencing seal. It was simple, more of a 'don't listen' seal than a true silencer, but it was well done and would serve its purpose. Most ninja were trained to spot silencing seals, anyway, so her choice made a lot of sense given their recent run in.

She placed the seal onto the floor with a brief flare of chakra to activate it and then stood. "We'll be outside if you need us."

"B-but, Hana-chan! What if those guys come back?"

"Shut up, dobe," the Uchiha said with a tired groan. "They're not leaving, we just need to talk about this by ourselves."

He looked to the girl for confirmation and looked all too smug when she nodded at him. Then, she turned those eyes on Jiraiya.

"Come on, then. Let's give them some privacy."

"I don't see why they couldn't have that conversation with us there," he said once they'd shut the door behind them.

She curled her lip at him, bearing her Hatake fangs in an expression that summoned images of Sakumo of all people. "Naruto gets self conscious around people he thinks know more than him. He won't ask any questions if we're in there."

Jiraiya hummed his understanding and filed that information away for later. "And I suppose you have a reason for setting this up now, instead of waiting until you were back in the village."

Of course, I do, you idiot, her face all but shouted at him. How stupid can you be?

"Sasuke," she said aloud. "Is Itachi's little brother."

He huffed in amusement. "Oh, really? I had no idea—!"

She...she'd hit him. Legitimately smacked him, her good hand striking his thigh in what looked like an automatic reflex.

"He's his brother,"she continued as if she hadn't just smacked a Sannin. "So, he's obviously gonna be curious why he's after Naruto instead of him. He's already a little resentful because Naruto is progressing so much faster than he is. It's better if he understands why now before that can fester, and its best for Naruto to be the one to tell him, for obvious reasons."

Alright, sure. That was some pretty sound reasoning. He could distinctly remember his own bitterness over Orochimaru's skill, though it had morphed into a general sense of discontent over the years. If she thought a heart to heart could nip something like that in the bud, though, she was more naïve than he'd expected.

Neither of them spoke and Jiraiya felt the urge to fill the silence growing within him.

Fill it with what though? Oh, by the way, I'm your grandfather? Hey, wanna hear some—totally child appropriate—stories about Ume?

Finally, he settled on: "So, I see your clan markings are coming in."

The wildly incredulous look the gave him told him that was the exact wrong thing to say.

"What are you talking about?"

Hoo, boy, how to fix this? He was already on Kakashi's kill list and he did not want to be made a priority.

"How old are you, chibi-chan?"

"Eleven, why?"

Damn. His started coming at the same age.

He sighed explosively before sinking into a squat, his hands pressed against his face. No time like the present. Come on, Jiraiya, rip off the bandage!

"Listen, chibi, I've got something to tell you and you're probably not going to like it."

Her expression immediately closed off, an eerie match for the borrowed Uchiha clothing she was wearing. She eyed him uneasily, the red rings beneath them making the pupiless black of her eyes that much more unnerving.

"Kid, we're related."

Damn it! Too vague! Ah, if only he could scratch that out! Redraft it! Cut out the entire conversation!!

She scrunched her brows. Then, her entire face lit up in realization, those fathomless eyes wide in shock and—.

Was that disgust?

It was. Rude. And highly unnecessary. He almost missed her fake civility.

Almost.

"Oh, Jesus Christ, you're my—you are, aren't you? Of all the Mary Sue bullshit—!"

"Hey!" He interjected crossly. "Watch your language!"

Heh. That was a thing grandpas said, right?

Oh, Gods, he's a grandpa.

Ew.

Yeah, alright, some disgust was warranted. On his end.

"Wait," she said, hand rising to touch her unmasked face. "Those aren't tattoos?"

He smirked at her astonishment. "Nope! They're home grown, just like yours."

That clearly wasn't what she wanted to hear. "What?"

He sighed, suddenly feeling as old as a grandparent should be. "Look, chibi, I know this is weird, but it's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" Her glare burned as much as Kakashi's, though her small stature lessened the bite. "My name is Hanako! If I go around with permanent tears on my face, I'll never be able to live it down!"

What.

That's what she was so upset about?

He watched as she clutched at her face with her one remaining hand, clearly in significant distress. Gone was the severe girl who'd approached him for a mastery, whose every acquaintance called her 'mature for her age', whose file listed her IQ as at least 180—although that particular test was due for a retake, soon—whose own peer group seemed to regard her as some sort of adult. In her place stood a little girl, distraught over her appearance like any other girl her age would be. It was...jarring was a poor word, but his mental thesaurus was failing him. Dissonant! That's what he wanted. It was dissonant, the two images refusing to reflect the being who'd made them.

He'd seen her more than once over the course of the month before the finals, observing her as she went about the village and interacted with civilians and her fellow shinobi alike. This...freak out...was incredibly out of character.

Swallowing around a lump in his throat, he held out a hand to the girl.

"Chibi-chan," his firm tone seemed to calm her, her black gaze fixing itself on his face. "Let me see your arm."

He gestured at the appendage and she warily reached out to him. Taking it in his hands, he slowly began unwinding the tight bandages from around the stump, taking note of the seal he revealed as he went. He hadn't really been paying attention—too overwhelmed by the possibility that he'd been so careless in enemy territory—but he could vaguely remember what it was supposed to look like. Finally free of the bandages, her arm looked so frail in his hands. Only two fingerbreadths—his fingers, maybe four of hers—of arm remained beneath the elbow, a pad of gauze stuck to the straight edge of the injury. While terrible, it wasn't what had his heart sinking.

There, nestled in the crook of her elbow, was Orochimaru's Curse Seal of Heaven, the three black tomoe just managing to avoid the thick black band of her Sumigawa seal.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before looking at her face. It was pale, her freckles and the red of her budding clan markings standing out on her bloodless face. Her lips thinned and she reached out with her hand to lightly trace the foreign seal.

"That," she said thickly. "Explains a few things."

Yes, Jiraiya thought sadly. Yes, it did.