Glass chimes sang throughout the countryside while dangling off a ajirogasa, pale from the sun exposure. A large scroll was secured by straps to the figures back. The figure, one of medium height and lean build, walked on the gravel path and was completely hidden beneath an oversized black cloak. It mirrored the silhouette of his enemies.

Shinobi, without a mark from any village, approached from the opposite direction. Rucksacks hung from their back and they let out loud mouth laughter along their way. The mask the figure wore smiled from under the shade of his bamboo hat. One of the shinobi had long hair a pale shade of purple while the other had black hair in a more traditional style.

Nudging the other with his elbow, both shinobi watched the cloaked man with a keen eye. Tilting up his chin, both nameless shinobi shared a like-minded moment. With the cloaked ninja coming closer and closer, so they prepared their little plan of action. Getting up in his personal space, the purple haired shinobi brushed shoulders and bumped into the man. Both nameless shinobi walked on, but only the purple one soon cried out in pain and collapsed to his knees. Blood fell onto the ground and pooled beneath him.

The purple man eyed the cloaked figure, regarding him in horror. "What the hell?!" The one with black hair pulled out his katana only to be startled by the ajirogasa that was blocking his vision. Cutting it down, he let out a yelp when face to face with the masked man. He brought down his blade and cut through the air. A gust of wind kicked up the dust and blinded the man temporarily. Frantically, the katana was swung in directions randomly.

Both men let out a gasp as they felt a force run past them with great speed. A purple head rolled and the black haired man was brought to his knees. Turning his head, his eyes fell onto a silver blade dripping with blood. The hilt was hidden in the cloaks black sleeve. The last thing he saw was spiky blond hair swaying in the breeze, and a mask smiling at him.

The shinobi were down, and the cloaked man brought out a scroll. He placed it on the ground and opened it. Performing the proper signs, both bodies were now stored safely inside. He deposited the scroll back into a small pouch and picked up the bamboo hat before walking on just as he did before he was interrupted.

Off in the distance, an older man watched in curiosity. Wooden sandals sounded hollow against the gravel, and a light breeze moved around his loose clothes and long grey hair. While bringing up his hand to his chin, he considered multiple things. This was a shinobi he was unfamiliar with, not truly recognizing him from any bingo books. Yet the chakra, though more bitter and chilling, was familiar. Deciding to walk on, he followed the cloaked man in complete curiosity. He is not dumb by any means, but he doesn't believe that this decision falls under such a category. 

The village he entered was small and quaint. No marking to show a name, but that means little. He'll just have to ask Tsunade about the nameless village in the land of fire. That should be easy enough, he needed to go there anyways.

Following at an appropriate distance, he simply kept tags on his new cloaked friend. He still had some things to attend to and it isn't like everything can be dropped for a single man.

Shinobi posted at the gate recognized him immediately. "Master Jiraiya, we've been expecting you." She said. "Please, follow me." Tucking black hair behind her ear, Jiraiya followed the young ninja around as she brought him to the villages leader.

In the corner of his eye, Jiraiya noticed that his little friend was no longer in sight. He chuckled. Something about that man amused him even though he cannot understand why. Though, he could be a threat. Perhaps that is why he is amused so highly.

The afternoon went on as expected. His meeting, though a bit bland, went off without a hitch over a bottle of sake. The leader of the village was a simple man with blue hair and yellow eyes. He seemed more grateful for the company than anything.

"I do apologize, Lord Jiraiya, that I did not have the information you were seeking. I do wish that I would have been able to help out an old friend a little bit more." the leader said in a voice gentle and unwavering.

"No, not at all. In fact, that only leaves me feeling confident in asking my next question." Jiraiya mused.

"Oh? And what might that be?" the leader mumbled, pouring himself another sip of sake.

"You haven't by chance had any shinobi in black cloaks with re-"

"My friend, I assure you. No shinobi with red clouds on their cloaks have entered into my village. Especially without my knowledge."

Though unhappy with how abruptly the man shut him down when asking his question, Jiraiya knew how to spin this in his favour. The Sannin thanked the leader for his hospitality and left the building. 

"Well, I suppose I should be getting back to the Leaf Village now." he looked around down at the civilians going about their daily lives just below the single set of stone steps. A yawn caused his eyes to shut and when he opened them again, he laid eyes on his little friend just below. Completely straight in posture, he stood out from the crowd with the darkness he seemingly omitted off his person. 

Jiraiya began his decent down the stair, only to be stopped by a woman's shout behind him. "Master Jiraiya, it's Lord Jijung, " he spun around, locking his eyes with hers. "He's dead. Please come with me." he went without hesitation. It was unfortunately true. A clean cut to the throat seemed to be the method of choice. 

Speaking with the higher ups in the village, they agreed to take care of the issue and handle village affairs on their own while he would return to the Leaf Village and take care of matters there. 

Jiraiya quickly left the small village and went on his way. It would be a long trip back to Konaha. Hours had past, with nothing but forest visible for miles around. It was quiet and warm, the sky was without clouds and birds flew about. It would be a pleasant day if not for the days earlier fiasco. 

While walking, he passed the skeleton of a community burnt to the ground. He remembered seeing it about a few months ago, and never had he seen carnage quite like that. Bodies were scattered around like wildflowers. Flames had consumed most of the wooden structures. Though it had mostly been destroyed by the fire, he found remnants of a torture room with a peculiar tool that would have left a very unique scar. A scar he did in fact recognize. On that mission, Tsunade sent with a few younger shinobi to accompany him. They had thought it would be only a mere disturbance and nothing more. But the building full of burnt children said otherwise. Shikamaru, Kiba, Hinata and Sakura were the ninja assigned to join him, and he'll never forget the expressions they had on their faces.

Jiraiya can still vividly remember every detail of it despite the time that had passed, though he believes that those are images he will never forget. Not with the reminder of just who else died in that massacre. 

He was quick to move on before anything else would distract him. It was a tragedy indeed. But nothing can change that now. Nothing can bring him back anymore.  The reminder that he was so, so close to preventing the tragedy still haunts him to this day. And he is reminded that this isn't the first time he has failed the children under his watch.

In a somber mood, he skulked around the woods. Sure, he was still going to the village, but the sense of urgency has simply left him. Hopefully those people back at that village sent off a bird with the news. Boast as he might, he isn't that fast anymore. 

Jiraiya's ears were pricked when hearing a familiar song of glass chimes. Looking around, he followed the sound up a small hill and saw the same man simply wondering the beaten path. The air was calm, nearly soothing around him and yet it held an bitter chill of resentment. This was quite the character indeed.

Beams of sun cast rainbows through the glass windchimes on the man's aijirogasa. Casting a transformation, Jiraiya turned into a small child. Acting just as one would, he ran up the road giggling and playing with a pinwheel he conjured up. Zig-zagging around, he bumped into the man and fell down. Rubbing his head, Jiraiya looked up at the man who had not moved an inch. 

"Sorry sir!" Jiraiya squealed. He actually found himself quite convincing in this cover. With an expression of fear and dread on his face, he swallowed the saliva in his throat. Sweat fell in beads down his forehead. The man turned bent down, and grabbed the pinwheel from off the ground; it spun in the cool wind. Pivoting on his feet, the man extended his arm to Jiraiya, offering the pinwheel. Unfortunately, his head was dipped and Jiraiya was unable to get an idea of what he looked like. The man didn't say anything. Instead, when Jiraiya grabbed the pinwheel and thanked him, the man simply stood up and carried on.

He cocked  his head to the side, acting as much like a child as possible. Getting up, Jiraiya ran up to the man and made a second attempt at him. "Say mister, thanks for giving me back my pinwheel!" the man stayed steady and didn't give even a nod. It was like he didn't acknowledge Jiraiya as real. "Say, where are you going?" Silence. "Well, I'm going to the leaf village. Are you headed that way too, sir?" He really did expect an answer from that. He shrugged, "If you're not going to talk, Mister, that's alright. I can talk for you. I can even walk with you on this trail!"

The chimes spoke in place of the man, filling in the silence he left. It was boorish work trying to make this man talk and at one point Jiraiya figured the man just might kill him if he continued being this persistent and annoying. 

Jiraiya walked directly in front of the man, marching comically. "Say!!" He shouted and spun around, stopping dead in his tracks and putting his hands on his hips in a triumphant pose. "You mind telling me you're name? My mom is probably going to want to know why I'm late!!" he practically shouted. Never. Never in all his years of being a shinobi had he felt like he was facing the personification of death this close before. He was a mere centimeter away from the man, and that bitter-cool feeling returned so much that a shiver climbed up his spine. "Oops, hehe, sorry sir." he laughed sheepishly and looked up with a look of sincerity. Opening his eyes, he caught a glimpse of an anbu style mask but the man quickly dodged anymore pauses and walked away.

Jiraiya simply stood there till the man left his field of vision. Returning to his normal appearance, he walked on. It would be a long trip indeed, but if this man was going to the Leaf like he believes he is, then there is something much stranger at play. 

"What a character." He stated almost in admiration. Walking on, he thought the plot of his next novel and basked in the incredible sunlight. But when he saw the man vanish right before his eyes, he began to worry that something abnormal was at play. He would discuss this with Kakashi, but his worries stemmed from much more than interesting character. There was only one group he knew who looked similar to how the man was dressed, and if they know he is catching onto their plan, then it would not be unreasonable to believe that they would try to disguise themselves while in public if they did not wish to cause a scene.

When he finally entered the village, his blood curdled inside him: that bitterness was inside Konaha, only, it wasn't alone. There was an element of familiarity mixed inside every negative feeling in the book. It was incredibly numbing. It acted like a strong chakra signature is known to. The only thing Jiraiya could remark on though, without sounding bonkers, was how frightful it was to be surrounded with such an aura. That evening, Kakashi spoke on how he noticed it as well, but that it left as regularly as it came. 

"By the way Kakashi, keep an eye out for an man in a black cloak and an ojirogasa with glass chimes for me, will you?" Jiraiya requested just before he wandered off.

"Sure. Is there any particular reason?" Kakashi asked with an uplift at the end of the sentence.

"Not really. I just figure that I might know the source of that strange chakra."

A/N: Happy belated Thanksgiving! Hope the chapter was alright and the next one will hopefully be coming soon. As usual, let me know your thoughts and any criticisms you may have. Have a goof night!