The ink in Jiraiya’s brush had just begun to dry when the gossip started bubbling at the market square.

“Some noble’s coming through,” muttered an old vendor, arranging her apples like they were treasures. “Big entourage, silk banners, the works. They say it’s for diplomacy or something. Fancy stuff for our little village.”

Jiraiya, seated cross-legged on the porch of a teahouse, barely looked up from his notebook. He dipped his brush again, muttering to himself, “Chapter twelve… where was I? Ah yes—‘her kimono slipped from one shoulder, revealing—’”

A burst of laughter erupted nearby. Children ran past, shouting about the noble's carriage. Even the usually apathetic innkeeper had come out to sweep the road. That was unusual.

Jiraiya paused. He tapped the brush against the rim of his ink pot. “Huh,” he said aloud to no one in particular. “A noble coming through here? Maybe they’ve got a tale worth hearing.”

Curiosity outweighed laziness, and besides—he needed inspiration. His latest manuscript was… lacking. It was missing that spark, that thrill that made the pages sizzle.

With a stretch and a yawn, he tucked his notebook under one arm and strolled toward the edge of the village, where a crowd had gathered. The villagers pressed together like barnyard animals, eyes wide, voices hushed.

The carriage was magnificent—lacquered wood, golden trim, deep violet curtains. Guards flanked it, and attendants in layered robes bustled about, making space, barking polite orders.

And then the curtains parted.

Jiraiya’s breath caught. The world narrowed.

The figure that stepped out wasn’t draped in jewels or arrogance, as he’d expected. They moved with effortless grace, head held high, a half-smile resting on lips that looked like they’d never told a lie—or perhaps only charming ones. Their eyes, sparkling and gleaming, swept across the crowd and landed—for the briefest moment—on him.

Beautiful wasn’t the right word. No, it was something more devastating than that. Ethereal. Spellbinding.

Jiraiya blinked. His grip on his notebook tightened.

“Well,” he said, stunned into a rare moment of speechlessness. “That’s… definitely going in the book.”