One day later, the four-person squad stepped onto the Land of Rain again.
Target: Amegakure.
If possible, Uchiha Yorin wanted to get some intel out of Hanzo the Salamander.
Orochimaru: "Should we ally with Hanzo?"
Rain cracked against them in sheets. Even with straw coats and bamboo hats, the damp air was miserable—
well, for exactly one of them. A slug, a snake, and a toad weren't bothered; the only one suffering was Uchiha Yorin.
He rolled his eyes, tone a notch sharper: "No. We can't make Danzō's mistake."
Hanzo was senile already—or flat-out dead.
The one-time warlord who preened as a talent-lover turned out to be all show—Lord "Loves-Dragons" who panicked at a real one. Hilarious.
Allying with him would only further tank Nagato's already low opinion of them—for no gain.
Orochimaru: "I see. Times change."
Seeing the demi-god who once soloed the three of them reduced to "demi–head case" only hardened his hunger for immortality. If he saw Nagato use Rinne Tensei, would he start waving flags?
…
Uchiha Yorin: "Here's the plan. We talk if we can; if not, we fight. Tactics:
"First, focus fire the healer—the Hell Path that can revive Pain—kill it.
"After the healer, kill ranged—the Asura Path.
"After Asura, take out the squishy supports—Human and Animal Paths.
"Once those are down fast, split Deva and Preta. I, the sword specialist, handle Preta; you three keep Deva busy. Last, we all pile Deva and crush him.
"Our roles: Orochimaru—disrupt. Tsunade-nee—heal and finishers. I'm melee DPS; Jiraiya-sensei's ranged DPS. That's it. Questions?"
Blunt and simple, but it sounded solid; no one objected.
Yorin: "Then move!
"First, try to contact Hanzo. If Hanzo's dead, we proceed assuming Akatsuki controls Ame and open direct talks with them."
"Mm."
"Fine by me."
"No problem."
Yorin: "Then let's go. Jiraiya-sensei—this is your karma. Tsunade-nee—this is the start of the Senju revival. And Orochimaru-san—Ame has something you'll find interesting."
After dangling a hook for each Sannin, he "took point" by… summoning ninja cats to scout.
Please—who charges first in person? Even without summons, at least send a shadow clone.
Like Yorin, the Sannin each summoned a flock of toads, snakes, and—well, maybe not slugs. They're too slow; by the time a slug report arrives, the soup's cold.
Leaving slugs aside: snakes on land, toads on waterways, cats in the brush—land, water, and "air" all covered. It should have been fine.
It wasn't.
With Rain Tiger at Will—that map-wide sensory jutsu—Yorin could summon a few hundred grizzled toms and it wouldn't matter.
So next would be contact with Hanzo—
No; thanks to Rain Tiger, the other side certainly knew they were here.
Would they move first, before Yorin's team could find Hanzo?
Also, by Yorin's timeline, Obito should be busy stirring up Ame. If his read was wrong, then…
Uchiha Yorin: "Worst case—we run."
That line rubbed the Sannin wrong.
Konoha's Legendary Sannin had seen every storm. Retreat before even seeing the enemy? Laughable.
A second later, they realized Yorin might be right—because up ahead a massive chakra spike flared.
The quantity and quality were explosive—Tailed Beast level—no, beyond most Tailed Beasts.
Given senile Hanzo and an absent Obito, the answer was obvious: Akatsuki's pinnacle—the boss-of-bosses—Pain had arrived.
"This chakra…"
"Stronger than expected."
"Heh. That only makes it more interesting."
Battle was now the path.
Yorin gripped his hip-sword.
He handed the other to Tsunade—no Thunder–Fire Sword this round…
As if sensing his bind, Tsunade silently unbuckled her sword and passed it to Yorin.
"Borrow it for now."
That's what her lips formed, though she didn't speak.
Yorin was a little moved.
Good woman.
In normal times, Jiraiya would have found the sight painfully awkward. Now, all his focus was on the man ahead:
Orange hair, black cloak with red clouds, a straw hat.
Dead-eyed, deathly pale—more like a puppet than a man. Black rods pierced his face—through ears, nose, lower lip—an overdone, deranged nonconformist.
Anyone else might not recognize him. But teacher and student are father and son. Jiraiya knew at a glance—this dyed, nonconformist "blondie" was his cherished student.
"Yahiko—is that you, Yahiko?!"
Jiraiya surged forward—Yorin yanked him back. "Calm down, Jiraiya-sensei. Yahiko's dead."
"…"
Yorin had told them all this earlier—but in the rush, Jiraiya forgot. The reminder snapped him back; excitement drained into grief.
"Yahiko…"
He finally accepted his beloved student was truly gone. Worse—his body had been turned into this neither-man-nor-ghost by another beloved student.
From that alone, Jiraiya judged: the other student had almost certainly gone mad.
~~~
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