Uchiha Yorin figured that if Nagato and Konan were here, they'd probably wear the same grieving look as Jiraiya—at least a little.
But Konan didn't show, and Nagato was used to pulling strings from behind the scenes. So for now, only Jiraiya was trapped in the sorrow of "white hair burying black hair."
"I didn't expect we'd meet again like this."
No matter how sad Jiraiya looked, the man before him—Yahiko, or rather, Pain—remained expressionless.
So this is what a "deva"—or rather what Nagato imagines a deva—looks like?
And the other five Paths? Were they lying in ambush—or, at this point in time, had Nagato not yet made them?
If so, their odds just went up.
While Yorin worked through the angles, Jiraiya fell silent. He didn't know what to say to Nagato.
Persuade him to turn back? Even he felt he didn't have the face for it.
Threaten him—or fight him? He couldn't bring himself to.
"You seem… to have felt it."
While he stayed quiet, Pain spoke. "You felt it—that intense pain."
Unlike the later Pain who calls himself a god, at least now, facing Jiraiya, his tone still carried some humanity.
He still couldn't stop preaching a bag of rice, but he didn't sound so god-drunk—almost like a normal person.
He wasn't.
Yorin—and Jiraiya—had to know: Nagato was already broken.
The moment he killed his best friend with his own hands, he became a tragic madman.
He couldn't stop, couldn't turn back. Even if he sensed the road was a dead end, he'd walk it to the world's edge.
And until that end came, he would use his unmatched power to brutalize this land—"to make it strong."
"So—turn back, Jiraiya-sensei."
He said it with gentleness. "I feel your sorrow. I feel your helplessness. I don't blame you; I forgive you. I don't wish to fight you.
But if you insist on standing in my way—even you—I won't show mercy."
Jiraiya: "…Yahiko… Nagato…"
He stood there, torn in two, speechless.
The rain didn't stop.
Then Yorin set a hand on his shoulder and stepped forward.
"Yorin…?"
"All right, Jiraiya-sensei," Yorin said softly. "If it feels impossible to say, then don't. Let me be the bad guy."
"…"
He still hesitated—but silence meant consent. Perhaps, in the shadows, Nagato sighed as well—perhaps in that instant, he felt disappointed in Jiraiya.
"I could let you posture all day, but we don't have that kind of time. Let's cut to it."
Yorin had no bond with Nagato. Nagato deserved sympathy, sure—but the ninja world's table is full of tragedies. If you spend every day pitying someone, when do you get anything done?
So Yorin chose to be blunt:
"How about this: I can't stand that fossil Danzō either. Konoha's changed rulers—it's the Fourth's era now.
New king, new courtiers—and in every era, the courtiers die by the sword. The Fourth dislikes that fossil. First chance he gets, he'll cut the old man down. Call it revenge on your behalf.
Then your brother here can rest easy, and you can sleep well. Everyone happy—isn't that beautiful?"
"…"
Yorin's little speech left both the enemy and his allies silent.
There was a strange dissonance to it—like it didn't fit the current ninja-world mindset.
What is the ninja-world mindset? You suffer a loss—your girl leaves you—your instant noodles don't come with sauce—and it all gets generalized, elevated, until the grand conclusion: "It's the world's fault."
There's a clinical term for this—Yorin forgot it—but it definitely exists.
His way—stick to facts, no grandstanding, no overreach—was rare to the point of being unique.
The next person who thinks like that… is named Uchiha Sasuke.
"…"
"You have no reverence for God."
After a brief pause, Pain spoke again. And thank goodness Yahiko is a corpse—no "cracking" face here. He could keep his mask on and deliver the lines:
"In the fires of war, countless lives are lost—their suffering made me grow.
"Only by experiencing pain can children awaken to adulthood.
"In this endless pain I grew beyond ordinary men—shedding flesh to become a god.
"In this chaos, I bear the mission of a god: to seek a dawn of peace, to bring a full stop to war."
If Nagato had been speaking himself, he'd be in full fervor by now:
"I know—only by making the world feel pain can its terror suppress war and lead the world to stability and peace."
"Amazing."
To Pain's surprise, Yorin didn't mock him—he clapped, seriously.
"With your power, if you wanted to carve out a domain, drown in wine and song, be a groom every day—you could. But you don't. You really want to save the world.
"For that, I'm willing to call you the kindest man in the ninja world.
"Honestly, I'm not as good as you—but I want to save the world too.
"You want to save the world; so do I. Sounds like we're on the same side, right?"
Pain said nothing—just studied Yorin.
As expected, Yorin had more:
"So let's get moving, great kami-sama. Surely you've already worked out how to end the eternal rain and floods of the Land of Rain—how to tame the endless sands of the Land of Wind.
"Wealth disparities, barren lands, exhausted farmers and desperate workers—you must have a plan to bring them a decent life. At the very least, the bare minimum—you must have a way to make sure they can eat, right?"
"…"
Even Pain.
Even knowing he was dead.
Even knowing Yorin wasn't speaking in good faith—
He was still stabbed by those words.
And it wasn't over.
Yorin: "And most importantly, Nagato—
"Even if you can't do those things—it's fine. Pure, overwhelming force can secure an era of peace. Like Hashirama.
"The God of Shinobi was so strong that while he lived, no one dared rebel.
"But what happened after he died—you know that.
"So, Nagato—
"Have you decided how peace will be kept after you're gone?
"When the frustration, fury, and despair suppressed by your strength and terror burst out the moment you die… how will you deal with that?"