Damn it.
Inside the growing stone sphere, Vincent hammered away, shattering every boulder that hurtled in to fuse around him. The more he broke, the more rock the black core drew in.
Kid.
Jiraiya lunged to help, but Yahiko and Konan stepped in front of him at once. Nagato was their leader now. Until he spoke, they would not let the old master pass.
Jiraiya-sensei, do not fret. He will not die so easily.
Jiraiya glanced up. The sphere swelled until it blotted out the sun. A dull boom rolled from within. Pebbles rattled loose and fell like gray hail.
It will not hold him for long, Nagato murmured, raising his right hand. More rubble tore free of the earth and wrapped the sphere again, swelling it even larger.
Do not worry. Whether he lives may depend on your answer, Jiraiya-sensei.
The stone moon throbbed in the sky, but Jiraiya no longer looked at it. With Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato together before him, he could not guarantee he would survive if he forced his way through.
Nagato, do you remember what you once told me?
What I said.
Nagato hesitated, then shook his head. I have walked through too much pain. I have grown. Those scraps of the past are smoke on the wind.
Jiraiya did not argue. He drew a thin, worn book from his robe and opened it.
This was my first novel, The Tale of the Gutsy Ninja.
He turned pages, speaking words that were not on them.
Maybe you are right. There are people I cannot forget, and hatreds etched into the bone.
So end it, then.
Nagato's lips curled, pride like a child who has found an adult's secret. End it with you proclaiming peace. End it where it began.
Jiraiya shook his head. Peace is the creed I chose, and a creed you choose is not something you discard when it becomes hard.
Stop joking.
Nagato's face twisted. Even now, how do you expect me to believe in your peace. How am I supposed to find that ridiculous peace in a world cursed like this.
Because of that curse I chose you to break it. If peace exists, I will seize it and not let go. I will not give up.
Jiraiya's voice was steady. Nagato's eyes widened.
Those words. That is from your book.
From this page.
Jiraiya folded the book back to its final leaf, where the novel gave way to a single monologue. This whole story came from the spark you gave me. And those lines were the ones you spoke to me yourself.
Memory flooded Nagato. The three years with their wandering teacher had been the warmest of his life, a home he had not known since childhood. In those days he had believed Jiraiya's words with all his heart.
Rather than guiding the world with pain, I want you to use the strength to overcome pain and do something else, Jiraiya said gently.
Jiraiya-sensei.
Nagato lowered his gaze. Conflict warred across his face. At last he breathed out and looked up.
I was wrong, sensei.
Jiraiya smiled, fondness softening every line of his battered face. When I traveled the world, I heard an old saying from the far east. To recognize one's mistake and correct it is the greatest good.
To recognize and correct. I understand.
Nagato tried to stand. Konan caught him, but he waved her off, then bowed deeply to Jiraiya. His hands came together in a trembling seal.
Outer Path Rinne Rebirth.
Nagato.
Konan cried out. If you use that, you will die.
Nagato shook his head and stilled her with a look. I have been wrong for so long. Thank you, Jiraiya-sensei, for the final lesson. I have learned more than I deserve. From here I will carry your creed.
The jutsu ignited.
A massive presence swelled in the hollowed tree. The King of Hell rose, far larger than the one the Hell Path could summon, a complete avatar of judgment. It opened its maw and breathed a storm of green light.
Elsewhere, Gamabunta and the Great Toad Sage watched through the crystal sphere.
Perhaps, the sage said, it was always going to end this way because Jiraiya would not bend.
The scene within the crystal shifted to the stone moon. The sage smiled faintly and said no more.
Green spirits poured from the King of Hell's mouth. Rinne Rebirth rippled across Amegakure. Those who had died in the fighting drew breath again.
More and more shinobi woke. Even Fukasaku blinked awake in Lady Shima's arms.
H-hey, Ma, where are we.
Aah.
Shima shrieked at the sudden resurrection and, panicking, smacked him across the face. The already woozy elder toppled back into unconsciousness.
Within Konan's paper barrier, as the technique ran its course, Nagato's hair bled to gray.
War, he whispered, is only pain and hatred vented at the world. And the venting buys only a greater pain.
He let the summary of his life fall from his lips.
Jiraiya-sensei, I am sorry I failed your hopes. From here it is up to you and Naruto.
He spoke the name he had long known, the same name Jiraiya had given the hero of The Tale of the Gutsy Ninja.
Konan wrapped Nagato's and Yahiko's bodies in paper.
Konan, where will you go now.
Jiraiya's voice was hoarse. He felt spent to the marrow.
I cannot return to Akatsuki. As for where next, I do not know.
She bowed to him, then lifted and drifted away with her dead.
Jiraiya sighed and looked up at the stone in the sky. Without Nagato sustaining it, cracks crazed its surface. It would not last. Oddly, the struggling within had ceased.
Planetary Devastation was at its weakest now. A single punch from Vincent would reduce it to gravel.
Jiraiya's mouth curved in a small smile, as if he already knew how this would end.
Goodbye, kid.
----------------------------------------------------
The deeper he goes, the more the truth unravels. Don't wait read ahead and witness Vincent's rise before the world catches up!
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