Chapter 57 — Arrive at the Rain! Wait — That's Pain?!
A day later, the four-person squad set foot again on the soil of the Rain Country.
Their destination: Amegakure.
Yujiro hoped he could squeeze some useful intelligence out of Salamander Hanzō—if Hanzō still had anything left to squeeze.
Orochimaru cocked his head. "Are we allying with Hanzō the Salamander, then?"
Rain hammered at the group in a steady, metallic patter. They wore straw cloaks and bamboo hats, but the damp, clinging air still made Yujiro especially uncomfortable.
Pause — look at the team: a slug, a snake, a toad, and one Uchiha. Turns out the slug, snake, and toad were perfectly fine in this weather; the only one sulking about the cold was Yujiro himself.
He rolled his eyes, a little sharp. "No. We won't repeat Danzo's mistake."
Hanzō, the old warlord, was either senile or already a husk of the man he'd been. Once the terror who'd ruled many battles, now a figure people joked about — a tyrant who'd spent his whole life praising talent and finally turned out to be all show. Making an alliance with someone like that would only erode whatever goodwill Nagato still felt toward Konoha.
Orochimaru smiled thinly. "Times change, huh," he said wryly.
Seeing a figure who once dominated half the shinobi world reduced to this clearly reinforced, for Orochimaru, the desirability of immortality. He wondered, not without grim curiosity, whether watching Nagato awaken the Rinnegan would make Hanzō flip out with excitement.
Yujiro laid out his plan, pragmatic and brisk: "This is our approach. If anything can be negotiated, we'll negotiate; if not, we fight. Tactically, we'll prioritize and eliminate in this order."
He tapped the table as he spoke, methodical:
"First — focus and wipe out the healer. That's the Path of Hell (Naraka) — the one who can revive Pain. Kill the healer, and you cut the enemy's sustain.
"Second — neutralize ranged threats: Asura Path. Then finish off the fragile supports: Human Path and Animal Path.
"After disabling those, split the Deva Path (Tendo) and the Preta Path (Gakidō). I'll handle the Preta Path — the one I can carve through with bladework. You two handle Tendo initially, keep it busy; once distracted, we'll concentrate and smash Tendo for good."
He spoke with the crisp confidence of someone who'd mapped the battlefield in his head already.
Orochimaru's eyes gleamed with interest; Jiraiya listened intently, exchanging uneasy glances with Tsunade. The storm above matched the tension building below: the Rain Country was no place for half-measures.
The plan was ruthless but sensible: remove the enemy's ability to resurrect first, then dismantle the rest in order of threat and resilience. Quick, surgical, and fatal.
They moved out into the rain, four shadows under umbrellas, each carrying thoughts heavy as the clouds above. The path ahead was dangerous, but their roles were clear — and the clock to act was ticking.
"Our formation will go like this," Yujiro explained calmly, rainwater dripping from the edge of his straw hat.
"Orochimaru focuses on control. Tsunade-neesan handles healing and finishing blows. Jiraiya-sensei and I—one melee striker, one ranged support. Simple, effective. Any objections?"
No one spoke.
It was a blunt, brutally straightforward plan—yet somehow, it made sense.
The three legendary Sannin exchanged brief glances, silently agreeing that it would do.
"Alright then," Yujiro clapped his hands lightly, the sound muffled by the rain.
"Let's move. First, we attempt contact with Salamander Hanzō. If he's already dead, we'll operate under the assumption that Akatsuki has taken control of Amegakure and shift to diplomatic mode—direct negotiation."
"Understood," said Jiraiya.
Orochimaru merely smiled thinly. "No objections here."
Tsunade nodded. "Let's get this over with."
Yujiro grinned. "Then it's settled! Let's go all out."
He turned to each of them in turn:
"Jiraiya-sensei, this is your destiny calling."
"Tsunade-nee, this marks the beginning of the Senju revival plan."
"Orochimaru-san, I'm sure there's something in Amegakure that'll catch your scientific interest."
After that bit of motivation, he stepped forward—and instantly summoned a ninja cat for reconnaissance.
Of course he wasn't stupid enough to lead the charge himself.
Even if he didn't use a summoning beast, he'd at least send a clone first.
Basic survival instinct, right?
Likewise, the Sannin followed suit—each summoning a host of familiars: frogs, snakes, and, well… slugs.
Though, the slug's speed was tragic.
By the time Lady Slug delivered intel, the battle would probably be long over and the soup cold.
Still, with frogs patrolling waterways, snakes slithering through the earth, and ninja cats prowling the forests, they had surveillance across land, air, and water.
It should have been airtight.
But reality had other plans.
Amegakure wasn't called the Village Hidden in the Rain for nothing.
With Rain Tiger at Will Technique (Ame no Norito)—Nagato's monstrous sensory jutsu—every drop of rain carried awareness.
Under that kind of all-seeing surveillance, even if Yujiro summoned hundreds of ninja cats, they'd all be exposed the moment they stepped into the rain.
Which meant only one thing:
They'd already been detected.
Even before they could locate Hanzō, the enemy would move first.
Yujiro frowned. "So… they know we're here."
His mind flickered through possibilities.
If my guess is right, Obito should've come here to stir up trouble by now. But if he hasn't… then the only one left to greet us—
"Is Pain."
He exhaled sharply. "Alright. Worst-case scenario—if things go south, we run."
The moment those words left his mouth, the Sannin collectively gave him a look.
Run?
Run?
The three legends of Konoha—the heroes who'd survived wars, faced gods, and even punched one or two—
being told by a kid to run before seeing the enemy was…
well, frankly insulting.
Jiraiya sighed. Tsunade muttered, "Kids these days…"
Orochimaru only chuckled. "He's cautious. I like that."
But the next instant—
A thunderous boom split the sky.
The chakra signature ahead of them erupted like a tidal wave—dense, crushing, alive.
It wasn't just powerful—it was colossal.
Comparable to a tailed beast.
No—stronger.
Considering Hanzō's age and Obito's absence, there could only be one answer.
The apex of Akatsuki.
The ruler of Amegakure.
The man who called himself a god—
Pain.
"Such power…" Tsunade muttered, eyes narrowing.
"Unexpectedly strong," Orochimaru added with a grin that almost looked hungry.
Jiraiya's voice dropped low. "So it's come to this."
The storm seemed to roar louder, the world trembling around them as the battle atmosphere thickened.
Yujiro gripped his sword hilt tightly.
He glanced sideways—then unhooked one of his blades, offering it to Tsunade.
"You'll need this."
She blinked, then unfastened her own sword and handed it to him instead.
"Borrow it—for now."
She didn't speak aloud, but her lips shaped the words clearly.
Yujiro blinked once, taken aback.
A flicker of warmth crossed his expression.
Ah… what a woman.
He almost smiled.
If this had been any other day, Jiraiya would've cracked some jealous joke.
But not this time. His eyes were locked on the figure emerging through the veil of rain—
A man in a black cloak patterned with red clouds, wearing a straw hat that shadowed his face.
His hair was orange.
His skin, pale as death.
Metal rods pierced his ears, his nose, even his lips.
It was a face both familiar and alien—
like a corpse that refused to rest.
And yet, despite the changes, Jiraiya knew instantly.
He knew that face.
"…Yahiko," he whispered, voice trembling.
"Is that you, Yahiko?!"
Emotion overran reason. Jiraiya started forward—
only for Yujiro to grab his arm.
"Calm down, Jiraiya-sensei. Yahiko's dead."
Jiraiya froze.
He'd heard it before—from Yujiro himself.
But hearing it, and seeing it, were worlds apart.
Only now, staring into those empty eyes, did the truth pierce him.
Yahiko was gone.
And his body—his very shell—was being used by his other student.
Nagato.
Jiraiya's chest tightened painfully. His breath caught in his throat.
"…Yahiko…"
He whispered the name again, voice breaking under the rain.
The reality was undeniable now.
One of his beloved students was dead—
and the other had turned his body into a weapon.
From that moment on, Jiraiya knew—
Nagato had truly gone mad.
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