Desolation of the Caged Bird Chapter 35 - Ten Thousand Ways

“Say, Naru-bro…” “Yeah, Kichi?” “I don’t think there’s any way you can win this one. Even three on one.” Naruto shot a glance to Ino on his

“Say, Naru-bro…”

“Yeah, Kichi?”

“I don’t think there’s any way you can win this one. Even three on one.”

Naruto shot a glance to Ino on his right, and Sasuke on his left, and their Sensei, who stood in the middle of Training Ground 7, with his eyes closed and his hand behind his back. There was a circle drawn around him, roughly five feet in diameter, and all around him were scorch marks, kunai, weapons, upturned earth, shuriken, and even dead crows, but within that circle, the grass was untouched, and there was zero sign of damage.

Sensei said a ‘surprise mission’ had come up. He would be deployed back to the front lines by tomorrow, so today, he was going to do some ‘practical lessons’ and ‘impart wisdom’ before he left. Naruto was soon learning that by ‘impart wisdom’ he meant he was going to completely humiliate them in combat.

Ino was sweating, Sasuke-teme’s eyes were spinning like crazy, and even he was at wits’ end.

Divine Firmament…

Naruto was starting to understand how the man in front of them earned that title. 

He was untouchable.

He can see in all directions at once, and getting in close for taijutsu is suicide…

Naruto had learned that mistake the incredibly hard way, after he was almost two-tapped with two lightning-fast palms, had it not been for Gamakichi wrapping his tongue around him and drawing him away at the last second. He could create a few Shadow Clones to use as a distraction, but it took far too much chakra, and if it weren’t for the Uzumaki half of him, he wouldn’t be able to use that technique at all. The only other methods he had were the ones his Jiji or Kakashi-ni taught him… but…

Whatever, I’m gonna go for it!

Ino shot a glance at him. Her voice popped into his head.

<Do you have something, Naruto?>

<GAH! Don’t! Do that! I could be thinking… sensitive thoughts!>

Ino rolled her eyes. Naruto rubbed the back of his head and sighed.

<If you and Sasuke can distract him for a second…>

<...We can try. Sasuke?>

<He has the Byakugan. Anything you can do, he can see you do it before you do it. This isn’t about attaining victory, it’s about choosing how to lose.>

Naruto bit his lip. <Thanks for the vote of confidence, teme!> 

Sasuke shrugged. <Neji-ni and my brother have sparred 135 times. I’ve watched one of their spars before. This isn’t even a warm-up for him.>

Ino asked, <How many times did your brother win?>  

<Once.>

Naruto frowned. <How many times did he lose?>

<Once.>

<How does that make sense?>

<One hundred and thirty-three ties, one win, one loss. Itachi-ni said the one time he won…  it was after his girlfriend died. There were… unusual circumstances.>

Naruto scratched the back of his head. <If we can’t beat him at all, what’s the point of this?>

<We’re not supposed to beat him. We’re just supposed to get him out of the circle.>

<Say, Ino-nee, your clan technique…>

<Do you think that wasn’t the first thing I tried? The moment I tried it, he turned it against me and…>

Ino’s face went red. 

<Never mind that. You said you have something?>

<Yeah, I got something. Cover me.>

<Alright. Sasuke?>

<On it.>

Sasuke leapt forward, forming hand signs rapidly. Chakra swelled into the air as he clasped his hands together, inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air.

“Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!”

A ball of fire formed that caused currents of superheated air that blew back his hair and clothes. 

“Kichi! Distance!”

“Gotcha, Naru-bro!”

Naruto smacked his hands together. “Kuchiyose: Gamagakure no Jutsu!”

He hopped into Kichi’s mouth and found himself running through the insides of a giant toad’s oesophagus. Within there, he clapped his hands together and rapidly started from hand seals.

“Remember, Kichi… I’m totally blind when using this, so it’s up to you to, ttebayo!”

“I won’t fail you, Naru-bro!”

Within the inside of a giant toad’s stomach, courtesy of the Hiding in the Toad technique taught to him by his Jiraiya-jiji, Naruto completed his hand seals and put his hand down in front of him. The sound of a thousand birds started to shriek. The sound was deafeningly, disturbingly loud, so much so that when Kakashi-ni first showed him the technique and called it an Assassination Technique, Naruto thought his adoptive older brother was messing with him.

Naruto’s primary chakra nature was wind, not lightning, but the technique had been just too cool. Taking a deep breath, Naruto sprinted through the large oesophagus, gathering as much speed as he could within it, moving faster and faster, until the entire world became an indescribable blur.

“Now!”

He burst out through an opening, his hand extended forward. Back on Training Ground 7, Gamakichi opened his mouth, aimed, and spat.

“Kuchiyose: Gamaguchi Chidori!”

The sound barrier shattered.

Naruto could not see anything nor aim properly at all, which was why the technique relied entirely on his trust in Gamakichi to properly ensure he would strike the right target. The Toad Mouth Thousand Birds was his fastest technique. The sound of the Chidori that let someone know it was coming a mile away was completely silenced within the stomach of a toad, and no one would expect a toad to shoot out a person faster than sound.

His hand outstretched, the entirety of Training Ground 7 became filled with the sound of chirping birds. Naruto anticipated his attack to connect with something, only to be caught completely off guard as a palm caught his wrist, avoiding the palm, coated with lightning, bled off every last bit of his momentum by spinning him around, and slammed him into the ground at a speed that almost ejected his soul from his spirit.

Naruto coughed up spittle as his eyes went wide. W—wha—

“Good attempt.”

His sensei looked down at him, with his eyes still closed.

“Could I not see even into the distorted space of your toad’s stomach, I would have never anticipated it coming.”

Ah.

Right.

He’s a Hyūga.

His sensei slammed a palm into his stomach, and as his world went black, Naruto couldn’t help but feel he was really, really starting to hate people with bullshit eyes.

XXXXX

When Naruto next woke up, he found himself sitting underneath a tree, in a roughed up state, with Ino also looking annoyed, while Sasuke… Sasuke was the only one who didn’t look like he had been through the grinder. He scratched the back of his head and found his sensei gently staring off into the sunset, his white cloak flapping lightly with the wind and the breeze.

“Oi… how come you’re not roughed up at all, teme?”

“I didn’t bother fighting after you went down,” he said frankly. “Ino did.”

Naruto’s first instinct was to chastise him, ask him how he could leave Ino to fight alone, but he remembered his promise, that bet, and he also remembered who exactly they were fighting.

“...Makes sense.”

Ino shot him a frown.

“What? He’s got a point, ttebayo!”

Their sensei turned to them all.

“What have we learned, cute disciples?”

“That you can’t beat people with cheat-like eyes…” Naruto mumbled.

“That is one lesson, but not the intended one.”

Their sensei chuckled.

“The three of you took my previous words to heart. I am pleased. That said… all three of you lack a Way. It shows in your chosen method of combat.”

Ino frowned. “A way? Like a… road?”

Naruto shook his head. “Sensei means a Nindō! A Ninja Way! Right, sensei?" 

Sensei smiled. “A Way is a Way.” 

Naruto glanced at Ino, and at Sasuke, and felt glad he wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand what the hell their sensei was talking about. He knew about Nindō, and it sounded like his sensei was talking about it, but not talking about it at the same time.

“What is your Way?"

Way…?

“To understand what I am about to teach you, you must first understand yourself."

Their sensei turned his attention to Sasuke.

“Answer this. Who are you?"

“Uchiha Sasuke."

“What do you want?"

Sasuke blinked. The question made him pause for a minute before he eventually answered. “I want to beat my older brother, Itachi."

“Why do you want it?"

“So I can stop living in his shadow.”

Naruto snapped his gaze towards Sasuke and stared at him as though he was seeing him for the first time. Wait… teme… also has… a sibling… he…?

Naruto had always known, or suspected, that Sasuke was like him in some way; it was some form of weird feeling he got, but he hadn’t known that Sasuke also had a sibling who outshone him so much that he wanted to beat them at all costs.

At least it's your older brother… Naruto wanted to mumble. …Try having it be your younger sister.

Even now, the conversation, no, it was not civil enough to call it that, the argument his sister and father had just the previous night still lingered with him. Arguments about peace and war, he didn’t understand any of it, understand the lot of it, and no one would bother to explain it to him. He did know the Cycle of Hatred because Jiraiya-jiji mentioned it all the time, but he still didn't quite get it.

His sensei turned to Ino.

“Who are you?"

“Yamanaka Ino."

“What do you want?"

Ino didn’t hesitate. “I want to become a great Kunoichi. The greatest who ever lived."

Naruto snapped to Ino, blinking. Huh.

“Why do you want it?"

“Spite."

Naruto frowned. Spite? He almost thought their sensei would chastise her, but he simply nodded on, as if there was nothing to it. Finally, he turned to him.

“Who are you?"

“Namikaze Naruto."

“What do you want?"

“I..."

Naruto faltered.

What do I want…?

He didn’t know. He knew what he didn’t want. He didn’t want people to keep comparing him to his sister. He didn’t want awkward dinners and an empty home. He didn’t want cold ramen and people not taking him seriously, and he didn’t want his father to be so busy all the time, and he didn’t want people to keep telling him how it was a ‘good thing’ he looked like Minato because no one would believe they were related—

He knew all the things he didn’t want.

But what did he want?

“You do not need to know the specific answer now. In your heart, you already have an idea.”

Their sensei clasped his hands behind him and looked away, towards the sunset.

“There are hundreds of desires and wants, which give birth to thousands of paths, and that too, to tens of thousands of Ways. Your Way can be considered how you choose to pursue your wants, your paths, and your desires, but this is a vast oversimplification, because the Way… cannot be truly described, and it cannot truly be explained, for once it is, it stops being the Way.”

“What about you, sensei?” Ino asked. “What do you want?”

Sensei smiled. His finger went up.

All of them blinked and looked to the sky.

“Ascendancy.”

“Ascend…?” Ino mumbled.

“To reach a place where no other has been, and where none other will ever be. Beyond the ones beyond and above the ones above.”

Naruto frowned. “Sensei, isn’t that a little…”

“Conceited? Perhaps. However… that is something you must understand. There are many mad paths, and many arrogant desires. However, if one pursues such paths with earnestness, then even madness, arrogance, conceit, and folly can become their Way.”

Sensei pointed at each of them. 

“If someone says your Way is wrong, laugh, and smile, and say, 'Who below the heavens can decide for another what shall be his Way?'”

Naruto shivered. He remembered the time he said he had little interest in Fūinjutsu, and the way everyone looked at him, telling him, But you have Uzumaki blood. How can you not have an interest in your heritage? Your birthright? No one seemed to understand, no one seemed to listen; they made him try to learn it as much as he could. If his sisters had never been born…

“For the Akimichi,” Sensei continued. “Their Way follows that of their bodies. Food, fat, stored, strength accumulated. For the Yamanaka, it follows their souls and spirits. Tempered through meditation, understanding, and empathy. For the Nara, it follows their minds, their wits sharpened through shadows, plots, and observation."

“For the Hyuga and Uchiha, their Way follows their eyes, for the Inuzuka, their Way follows the care, raising, and training of their hounds, and for the Aburame, their Way follows the nurturing, growing, and mastery of their insects."

Their sensei paused.

“If you were to gaze upon all of Konoha's clans, could you say definitively, ‘This Way is right; That Way is wrong?"

Ino shook her head. Sasuke did so as well. Naruto, slowly, was the last to do the same.

“One cannot decide for others their Way.”

For the first time, Naruto felt something choke in his throat.

“So, too, can one not lead others to their Way."

Their sensei turned about.

“You three must find your Way. Beyond family, beyond clan, beyond bloodline, beyond expectations, beyond tradition, beyond inheritance, beyond culture. You are part of your clans, and part of your families, but you are not clans and you are not your families.”

Naruto’s heart was racing.

Ino was the first to raise her hand. “Sensei, are you saying we should… not use our clan’s teachings and techniques?”

“I am saying you should not use only your clan’s teachings and techniques. Before you are a Namikaze, Uchiha, or Yamanaka, you are Naruto, Sasuke, and Ino.”

Sensei turned towards him.

“What do you like, Naruto?"

“Me...?” Naruto blinked. “Uh... ramen."

“Food. What more?"

“Pranks... I used to... play pranks, when I was little…"

“Good. What else?"

“My jiji's books…"

Sensei pointed with his finger, a sharp fingertip of chakra hit the ground, and he drew three circles and wrote several characters.

“Food."

“Subterfuge."

“Perversion."

“It’s n-not perversion, ttebayo!”

Sensei smiled as he tapped the center.  Naruto cleared his throat as he stared at the center of the circle.

“Ino. You’re next."

“Flowers," she said, after a while.

“What more?"

“I used to enjoy the time I spent cloudwatching with Shika... but... that feels like a lifetime ago."

Sensei drew another set of circles.

“Sasuke."

“Training."

“No," Sensei shook his head. “Who is Uchiha Sasuke on the days he does not train? What does he like? What does he do?"

Sasuke paused.

“Cats..."

Naruto turned his head towards him. Ino did as well. “Cats?"

“My brother... and I… know a lot of cats."

Sensei smiled. “Cats.”

“What else?”

“Cooking… with my mother."

“Good.”

At the end, different circles had been drawn, as had different characters been drawn.

“In the legends left behind by my clan, there was a great Sage whose hobby was to do nothing else but observe the sunsets and sundowns. A renegade, thought a fool, many believed he would lose his eyes, and that hobby would be his folly."

“Yet, a great battle emerged, and the enemy routed the clan, anticipating their techniques, knowing their methods, striking in the cover of a fierce storm, it was he, who spent time watching sunsets and sunrises, who had learned to see without sight, and had created a technique, that drew not from his battles, nor from his triumphs, but from his experiences, and from the depths of richness that was the soup of his life."

Their sensei lifted a palm high up.

“The enemies you will face on the battlefield will expect a Namikaze, they will be ready for the techniques of a Yamanaka, they will have studied countermeasures against an Uchiha."

He brought it down.

“But they will not be ready for you. They do not know you. They do not know the experiences you have accrued, and they do not know your likes, your hobbies and interests, and the things that make you, you. In honing these, your enemies will look at the canopy of the forests and trip upon the roots of trees."

“It matters not if your interests are solitary, bring dishonor upon your family, or are thought foolish or deviant. They are yours. You are you."

Naruto’s chest grew tight. His sensei smiled at him.

“Your Way is Your Way.”

Sensei… you’re…

For the first time…

Naruto started to think… maybe… just maybe… 

His sensei wasn’t so bad after all.

XXXXX

“It’s here.”

There, in the depths of Amegakure no Sato, underneath an ever-present downpour that continued relentlessly, deep within a hidden bunker underground, one that connected with varying caves, tunnels, and systems, Jiraiya sensed a person. One person, the same person to whom the chakra of the piece of paper belonged. There were no other people he could sense, no other presences he could feel, no other signs that anyone was here.

The underground bunker, by its make and appearance, had been created as a getaway for the country’s ruler. The thought of it made Jiraiya sigh. Even Hanzō had needed his escape routes and escape bunkers, even figures of his past whom he could never fight, defeat, or hold a candle to, had always sought to have a means to flee with his life.

“I don’t like this Jiraiya-boyo… something’s off.”

Something did feel off. Something had always felt off about this country. Jiraiya could sense emotions and sense people’s chakra signatures, but they all felt… stilted. Muted. Stiff. As if there was a tiny layer of haze over everything and everyone. 

Beyond that, there was a prevalent sense of being watched that followed him everywhere and anywhere he went that he could not shake off. This had nothing to do with the rain, which always fell, but something more insidious. He was aware of his increased strength, aware of his capabilities, which was what made him wary. If someone was able to watch him and he could not detect their presence at all, it meant his enemy was incredibly dangerous.

Slowly, he pushed open the door. There, in the corner of the room, in rags, was a blue-haired woman chained to the ground. The sight made Jiraiya freeze. Where there should have been arms, there were stumps instead, roughly bandaged and roughly kept. Her form was skinny, her face was gaunt, and a bandage of cloth covered her eyes. He could see the ribs of her bones and her spine through the fragment of rags she wore, and his heart grasped itself in his chest.

Her chakra was faint and weak, so much so that it was barely enough for an adult. He stood at the door, not daring to take another step. Her gaze went to him, but she neither reached for the bandage nor said a word.

“Is… is that you… Jiraiya?”

Jiraiya didn’t trust his voice. At first, he thought it was a genjutsu, but it was not. He could feel her emotions. He could feel it. The despair. The grief. The rage.

They drowned him, and his voice became hoarse. “K-Konan?”

Years ago, when he, Orochimaru, and Tsunade had met the three, Orochimaru offered to kill them, as it would be a more merciful fate compared to starving as orphans in the war. Jiraiya had blatantly refused such a cruel act, and instead, he’d taught them what little they needed to survive, how to fish, how to hunt, how to hide. It wasn’t until he saw Nagato’s eyes, saw the Rinnegan, that he decided to teach them in the fullest about ninjutsu.

“Why… Why come now… it’s… too late… everyone… everything… if you had come earlier… earlier…”

The possibility always existed that they would not have good ends due to his lessons, but he had pushed it to the back of his mind. He had done his best for three orphans, he had strived his hardest for them, and whatever happened to them from then on could not be on his hands. That was what he told himself at first, before his mind was cleared after failing to solve the Frog in a Well Barrier. Once that enlightenment came, he swore to do things differently. To reconnect with his former students, to make up for lost time. He was supposed to. After defeating and imprisoning Orochimaru, he swore he would. Yet… the thing with Tsunade had happened, and for a time, he enjoyed staying with her, experiencing memories with her, and had pushed it just a little further.

Then, the Konoha-Suna War had happened, and he had been busy. Too busy.

Thus, he had pushed it further, and further, and further, delaying and delaying, saying tomorrow, the next day, the next week, the next month.

Tomorrow never came.

That connection, that karmic debt, that cycle, had thus been left unclosed. It was one of the few weaknesses in his otherwise serene mind. His former teammate was imprisoned, he spent time and company with the woman he loved, his primary pupil was a father, a husband, and a leader, and his teacher enjoyed a peaceful retirement. All other cycles, all other debts repaid, save for the mystery of the individual who modified that barrier…

And save, for the fate of the three Orphans of Ame.

Until he received the missive from Konan, the paper, with her chakra imbued, the message, saying she knew who the spy was, he doubted he would have ever closed this cycle. He had told Nagato of his belief that one day, he could perhaps become the Child of Prophecy, just as he had told Minato, and the consequences of that, the consequences of teaching them—

“You… why… why did you… abandon us?”

Jiraiya’s thoughts flew into disarray. His heart nearly burst out of his lungs. I didn’t, he wanted to say. He wanted to defend himself. I trained you to the best of my—

Seeing Konan as she was, without hands, blinded, starved, and chained, the words could not emerge.

Had he? Had he really?

“We… needed you… Nagato… Yahiko… needed… you…”

He doubted himself. He doubted his actions. He doubted his deeds. He doubted his achievements. He wavered. He faltered. His voice couldn’t come out of his throat. Distantly, he heard Pa and Ma screaming something; they were smacking him with something, but Jiraiya could not understand it. His focus wavered. His concentration, his tranquility of mind, the barriers he had overcome to become a Perfect Sage, should have been perfect.

Had he checked up on them… even once. Had he searched for them, even once, had he tried, even once—

If he had not taught them, then it would be a different story.

But he had been their teacher.

“Where… were you… When we needed you?”

His mindset, his tranquility, allowed him to overcome the blocks placed upon him that prevented him from becoming a perfect sage. That tranquility, that acceptance of his failure, of himself, slowly, for a brief moment, in seeing Konan’s fate, in hearing her words—

“WHERE WERE YOU?”

It chipped.

For a brief moment, his Perfect Sage Mode reverted to Imperfection.

“Jiraiya-boyo! Quickly! Snap out of it! You’ve been turning to stone!”

His hands were partially transformed into stone, all the way to his elbows. It was an imbalance of chakra caused by a profound loss of harmony. If it weren’t for Pa and Ma hitting him repeatedly to dispel the accumulated nature chakra, he would have already completely become stone.

Before he could move, before he could react, before he could think—

A man appeared in a ripple of space and extended his hand.

“Jigokudō.”

And Jiraiya’s world went dark.

XXXXX

Everything proceeded exactly as he had said.

Konan watched, in silence, through the eyes of her doppelganger, as Jiraiya was captured and stuffed into the King of Hell. Two pitch black chakra rods pierced the male toad, as the female one fled as swiftly as she could in a puff of smoke. She stepped into the room and stared at her pitiable-looking doppelganger, feeling both irritation and disgust at how real it appeared.

The Shōten no Jutsu was a power of Nagato’s Human Path, which was primarily used to create doppelgangers of members of the Akatsuki, who were indistinguishable from the real versions. The doppelgangers were designed and intended to hold back pursuers and prevent interruptions during the long processes it would take to seal a Jinchūriki, and Konan would admit, she had never thought they could be used in this manner; used not for combat, not to buy time as a Jinchūriki was sealed, but to fool others. The chakra signatures were identical; they could use the exact same techniques, the same voice, and portray the same soul.

If engaging in combat, one would decipher something amiss as the doppelganger had a limited chakra pool. However, outside of combat? It was impossible to tell them apart from the real individual. Only after the technique ended could one know that something was amiss, but even then, they would never suspect it was a technique.

As Nagato was the only one with the Rinnegan, no one who encountered this technique for the first time would ever suspect it was a technique.

Konan was no master actor; she had a taciturn appearance too stiff for acting, and thus a slight alteration was made for the technique, one that installed entirely false memories. Memories of torture and agony, loss and despair, which allowed it to perform according to a script.

When the chakra was the same, the soul was the same, the body appeared the same, and the emotions were real, no one, not even a Perfect Sage, would have any reason to believe a single thing was faked.

With a release of her chakra, the doppelganger that was chained, armless, and blind faded away, revealing the corpse of a female kunoichi from Konoha that had been used as the technique's sacrifice.

“I still believe going to such lengths was unnecessary.”

The air shook. A ripple formed in space. A man emerged, with a Sharingan on each eye, and half of his face covered in large, spiralling, circle-like scars.

“Do not underestimate a Perfect Sage,” he warned. “And do not underestimate a Fūinjutsu Master. There is a high chance that Jiraiya knows the Second Hokage’s Flying Thunder God Technique, meaning he could have escaped as soon as he felt fatal danger. Capturing him alive while preventing him from using it was the goal.”

Konan could not quite find a flaw in his argument. “And you are absolutely certain the Fourth Hokage will come for him?”

“Sensei will come. Late, as he always does, but he will.”

Konan turned to the Scarred Uchiha. Obito Uchiha. Minato’s Prodigal Pupil. At first, when the man approached them, he attempted some sort of joke by claiming he was Uchiha Madara, even wielding the man’s famed battle fan, but neither she nor Nagato believed him. 

There were far too many Uchiha alive for them to believe a random masked person with Sharingan eyes and a battle fan was a long-dead legendary shinobi.

To that end, he’d taken off his mask and told them his actual identity, which was more easily confirmed, especially because of the scars. Konan still did not understand what sort of vendetta the man had against his former teacher, but when one joined the Akatsuki, so long as their motives did not harm the organization, it was not her place to ask. The man’s hatred for the Fourth Hokage, for Konoha, was not fake. Such hatred could not be faked.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, he had said. I want Sensei dead. You want his wife for the beast in her belly. We have a common cause.

The wealth of information and aid he provided them alone in the past ten years had more than made up for Sasori and Kakuzu’s deaths and Orochimaru's capture. He aided them in utilizing and seizing all of Sasori, Kakuzu, and Orochimaru’s collective assets, as he aided them in recruiting new members. He had an almost prophetic cunning and plotting ability, forewarning them of the war, and nearly all of his predictions and estimations happened exactly as he said they would.

His ability as a strategist was, in Konan’s opinion, the greatest and the most terrifying she had ever seen. So much so, she almost suspected he was secretly controlling the entire world, but such a concept was too far-fetched to accept. If such were true, it would mean somehow the Raikage, Tsuchikage, Mizukage, and Kazekage were all puppets doing his bidding. Neither she nor Nagato believed such a thing was possible.

If it weren’t for his proven strategic prowess over ten long years, they would have been less inclined to trust his words and heed his counsel for this particular plan.

Nagato had wanted to simply proceed as he always did, as ‘Pain.’

However, Obito had managed to convince him.

“I do not doubt you can defeat my Sensei. What I doubt is whether you can kill him. The Flying Thunder God Technique ensures he can escape from any attack, any offensive, and avoid any battle. When he starts losing against you, he will flee like a coward, and it is impossible to stop him from fleeing. But if you have something or someone he cannot afford to abandon… something or someone he has to fight for or defend…”

There were many things she was certain Obito was hiding, but in this regard, she knew he was truthful. As the student of a man who was a student of their own teacher, he understood Namikaze Minato’s combat abilities better than they did.

Even so, the chilling nature of this plan to capture Jiraiya was something Konan herself would never have thought of in a thousand years. Neither would Nagato. Perhaps it was because neither of them would have thought of it, Jiraiya never expected it, and thus, it had been successful.

Despite it, there was a part of her that felt filthy, using such a method. Jiraiya's expression of anguish when he had seen the blinded and crippled doppelganger of her had been... genuine.

“When?”

Nagato’s voice came from the Naraka Path. 

“When will he arrive?”

“As soon as he gets word of what happened.”

“And he will come alone?”

“He will.”

“You seem certain.”

Obito slowly rubbed the scar on his face.

“When I was younger, he told me the tale of how Kushina was once abducted, and she left threads of her hair hoping someone would notice and rescue her. Once he found her red threads of hair, he hurriedly pursued the trail by himself. He said he wasn’t sure what he would face, but only that he knew a person he loved was in danger, and thus he had to act.”

Obito chuckled.

“That’s just Sensei's way.”