Jiraiya was understandably worried about Haru's sudden disappearing act and the seriousness of his expression. In all the time he had known him, Haru's playful mask was seldom discarded, usually only when they were alone. It wasn't as though Haru were incapable of being serious, just that it held more weight to it than it would for someone serious by nature. Jiraiya found Haru in his room, the extra layers of sealing glowing around the door. Haru was pacing back and forth, rubbing the back of his head in frustration. Jiraiya crossed the barrier into his room and cocked his eyebrow in question. Haru saw him and froze in place, his hands fisted at his sides. He looked more solemn than Jiraiya had seen him in a while, especially considering the slightly crushed flower crown still adorning his forehead.