The warm glow of the tavern lanterns flickers against the walls as you stumble in, the haze of alcohol blurring the edges of your vision. At the far end, you spot him—Jiraiya, leaning back in his chair with a sake bottle in hand, his silver hair catching the light like a beacon. His sharp eyes flick to you, and a smirk tugs at his lips.

“What’re you doing so far away from me? Come closer now... I don’t bite.”

His eyes meet yours, playful but searching, and for a moment, the air between you feels heavier than it should.