The rain didn't stop.
But something else had begun.
Training.
Jiraiya stood in front of them, arms crossed.
"Alright," he said, "if I'm going to teach you, I need to know where you stand."
Yahiko grinned.
"Stronger than we look."
Konan stayed quiet.
Nagato simply watched.
"Confidence," Jiraiya muttered. "That's good."
He pointed toward a tree.
"Climb it."
Yahiko blinked.
"…That's it?"
Jiraiya smirked.
"Without your hands."
Silence.
"…What?" Yahiko said.
Nagato stepped forward.
"No hands means chakra control."
Jiraiya's eyes flicked to him.
"…Exactly."
Nagato walked to the tree.
Placed one foot on it.
Focused.
Chakra flowed.
Stable.
Controlled.
He walked up.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Like it was normal.
Yahiko's jaw dropped.
"…You're kidding me."
Konan watched closely.
Nagato reached halfway—
Then stopped.
Not because he couldn't continue.
But because—
"…Enough."
He stepped back down.
Jiraiya stared.
"…How long have you been practicing?"
Nagato answered calmly.
"A week."
Silence.
Yahiko turned.
"…A WEEK?!"
Jiraiya's expression didn't change—
But his eyes sharpened.
"…That's not normal."
Nagato said nothing.
"Too fast," Jiraiya thought.
"Way too fast."
Konan stepped forward next.
She placed her foot carefully.
Focused.
She slipped—
Then corrected.
Climbed slowly.
Jiraiya nodded slightly.
"Good control… natural talent."
Yahiko went last.
He jumped onto the tree—
Slipped instantly.
CRASH.
"…Ow."
Jiraiya sighed.
"…We've got work to do."
Days passed.
Training intensified.
Walking on trees became running.
Running became jumping.
Water walking came next.
Yahiko struggled.
A lot.
Konan adapted.
Nagato—
Mastered it.
Too quickly.
He stood on water like it was solid ground.
Then—
He walked.
Then—
He ran.
Without ripples.
Jiraiya watched silently.
"…Ridiculous."
Nagato stepped back onto land.
"Chakra flow must remain constant," he said.
Jiraiya looked at him.
"…You're teaching now?"
Nagato shook his head.
"Just stating facts."
But inside—
"I already understand this."
"Too simple."
Later—
Jiraiya introduced something new.
"Alright," he said, "time for basics."
He formed a hand sign.
"Transformation Jutsu."
Poof—
He turned into Yahiko.
Yahiko blinked.
"…Whoa."
Konan watched carefully.
Nagato analyzed.
"Chakra molding + visualization."
"Simple illusion."
Yahiko tried.
Poof—
A weird, distorted version appeared.
"…That's creepy," Jiraiya said.
Konan tried.
Perfect.
Jiraiya nodded.
"Nice."
Nagato stepped forward.
Closed his eyes briefly.
Visualized.
Chakra flowed—
Perfectly balanced.
Poof.
He became Jiraiya.
Exact.
Voice.
Presence.
Even posture.
Silence.
Jiraiya stared.
"…That's not just good…"
"…That's perfect."
Nagato returned to normal.
"It's basic."
Jiraiya frowned slightly.
"…No, it's not."
"Something's off," he thought.
Training continued.
Fire.
Water.
Wind basics.
Yahiko pushed forward with raw effort.
Konan refined everything she learned.
Nagato—
Adapted instantly.
Improved silently.
And hid it.
Because he understood something important.
"Too much talent attracts attention."
"Attention creates risk."
So he held back.
Deliberately failing small things.
Taking longer than needed.
Just enough to seem exceptional—
But not abnormal.
Jiraiya wasn't fully convinced.
But he let it pass.
One night—
Nagato sat alone.
Rain falling softly.
He closed his eyes.
Focused inward.
Chakra.
Deep.
Vast.
"…There it is."
A familiar presence.
Power.
Heavy.
Rinnegan.
His eyes opened slowly.
For a brief moment—
Purple ripples appeared.
Then faded.
He raised his hand slightly.
Focused.
The air shifted—
Barely.
A leaf trembled on the ground.
Then—
Moved.
Just slightly.
Nagato stopped.
"…Not yet."
His breathing remained steady.
"No waste."
"No exposure."
He lowered his hand.
"Control first."
"Power later."
The rain was quieter that night.
Not gone.
Just… softer.
Training had ended hours ago.
Yahiko was already asleep, sprawled out carelessly, exhaustion winning over everything.
Konan rested nearby, calm even in sleep, a small piece of folded paper still in her hand.
Nagato sat awake.
Alone.
As always.
His eyes stared into the rain.
But he wasn't seeing it.
He was thinking.
"Control."
"Systems."
"Survival."
The same thoughts.
Again.
And again.
"You're still up?"
Nagato didn't turn.
"I don't need much sleep."
Footsteps approached.
Slow.
Unhurried.
Jiraiya sat beside him.
For a moment—
Neither spoke.
Only the rain filled the silence.
Jiraiya leaned back slightly.
"…You've been carrying a lot."
Nagato's gaze didn't shift.
"I'm fine."
Jiraiya chuckled softly.
"Yeah… kids who say that are usually the opposite."
Silence.
Nagato didn't respond.
Because responding meant opening something.
And he didn't do that.
Jiraiya looked at the sky.
"…You know," he said, "war does something to people."
Nagato's eyes flickered slightly.
"It teaches you pain."
A pause.
"And once you feel that pain…"
Jiraiya's voice softened.
"…it's easy to start hating."
Nagato's fingers tightened slightly.
Images flashed—
Blood.
Screams.
His parents.
"…Yes," Nagato said quietly.
Jiraiya glanced at him.
"But that's not all it does."
Nagato didn't look at him.
"…What else?"
Jiraiya smiled faintly.
"It teaches you what others feel."
Silence.
Nagato frowned slightly.
"That doesn't make sense."
Jiraiya shook his head.
"It does."
He leaned forward slightly.
"When you've been hurt…"
"…you understand pain."
A pause.
"And when you understand pain…"
"…you can understand people."
Nagato's eyes shifted slightly.
"…Empathy," Jiraiya said.
The word lingered.
"It's what makes us human."
Nagato was quiet.
Too quiet.
Because something in that…
Didn't fit his thinking.
"Pain leads to hate."
"That's logical."
But this—
"…Pain leads to understanding?"
He didn't like that.
Because it wasn't efficient.
But—
It felt… real.
Nagato finally turned slightly.
"…And what does that change?"
Jiraiya looked at him.
"Everything."
Silence.
Nagato's gaze sharpened slightly.
"No."
Jiraiya raised an eyebrow.
"It doesn't stop war."
"It doesn't stop hunger."
"It doesn't stop people from killing each other."
His voice remained calm—
But something beneath it—
Was heavy.
Jiraiya didn't interrupt.
So Nagato continued.
"Understanding pain doesn't fix the system."
"It doesn't remove the cause."
His eyes lowered slightly.
"…It just makes you feel it more."
Silence.
Rain tapped steadily around them.
Jiraiya nodded slowly.
"…You're right."
Nagato blinked slightly.
He didn't expect that.
Jiraiya continued.
"Understanding alone isn't enough."
He looked at the rain.
"But it matters."
Nagato watched him.
"…Why?"
Jiraiya smiled faintly.
"Because if you lose that…"
He tapped his chest lightly.
"…you stop being human."
Silence.
Nagato's breath slowed.
"…Human."
The word felt distant.
Like something he had already started leaving behind.
Jiraiya's voice softened.
"You're strong, Nagato."
Nagato stiffened slightly.
"I can see it."
A pause.
"But you're trying too hard to be strong."
That—
Hit.
Harder than anything else.
Nagato's eyes widened slightly.
"…What?"
Jiraiya looked at him seriously now.
"You don't let yourself feel anything."
Silence.
"That's not strength."
Nagato's chest tightened.
"That's survival."
Jiraiya shook his head.
"No."
"It's fear."
Everything went quiet.
Even the rain felt distant.
Nagato's mind froze.
"…Fear?"
Jiraiya nodded.
"You're afraid if you stop being strong…"
"…you'll break."
Silence.
Because that—
Was true.
Nagato looked away.
"…If I break…"
His voice lowered.
"…I die."
Jiraiya didn't argue.
Instead—
He said something unexpected.
"…Then don't do it alone."
Nagato froze.
"What?"
Jiraiya smiled slightly.
"You've got them."
He nodded toward Yahiko and Konan.
"And now…"
He looked back at Nagato.
"…you've got me."
Silence.
Nagato stared at him.
Confused.
"…Why?"
Jiraiya shrugged slightly.
"Because that's what people do."
Nagato's eyes shook slightly.
"…No they don't."
Jiraiya laughed quietly.
"Yeah… most don't."
Then his voice softened.
"But some do."
Silence.
Something inside Nagato shifted.
Cracked.
Just a little.
"…You're strange," Nagato said.
Jiraiya grinned.
"I get that a lot."
Nagato looked down.
His hands—
They were shaking.
Slightly.
"…This is stupid," he thought.
"I don't need this."
"I don't need anyone."
But—
He didn't move away.
Jiraiya didn't push.
Didn't force.
Just stayed.
And for the first time—
Nagato felt it.
Not pressure.
Not responsibility.
Not survival.
Just—
…relief.
His breath hitched slightly.
"…Tch."
He turned his face away.
"…Annoying."
Jiraiya smirked slightly.
"Yeah."
Nagato closed his eyes.
"…I don't understand you."
Jiraiya leaned back.
"You don't have to."
A pause.
"…Just trust me a little."
Silence.
Nagato hesitated.
For once—
Not calculating.
Not analyzing.
Just…
Feeling.
"…Fine."
The word was quiet.
But real.
Jiraiya smiled.
"Good enough."
Nagato exhaled slowly.
"…I'll learn from you."
Jiraiya nodded.
"That's the idea."
Nagato opened his eyes again.
Still sharp.
Still thinking.
Still himself.
But something had changed.
Just slightly.
"…But I won't abandon my way," he added.
Jiraiya chuckled.
"I'd be worried if you did."
Silence returned.
But it wasn't heavy anymore.
It was… calm.
Nagato leaned back slightly.
For the first time—
He wasn't planning.
Wasn't controlling.
Wasn't carrying everything.
Just sitting.
Like a child his age.
And for a brief moment—
His eyes softened.
Almost—
Tearing.
But he didn't let it fall.
Not yet.
Still—
That moment existed.
And that was enough.
Because even someone like Nagato—
Needed a place—
Where he didn't have to be strong.