Jiraiya, accompanied by Inoichi, Choza, and Shikaku, finally arrived in the Land of Earth. The journey had been swift but heavy with silence, each man lost in his own thoughts. At the predetermined rendezvous point, they were met by Kurotsuchi and Kitsuchi, high-ranking shinobi of Iwagakure. Tension hung thick in the air the moment both parties came into view.
Without hesitation, Inoichi marched forward, eyes blazing with fury. He grabbed Kitsuchi by the collar and pulled him close, his voice like a low growl. "Let me make this absolutely clear," he snarled. "If I find even the slightest trace of your (Iwagakure) involvement in my son's disappearance, I swear I will not rest until I've brought every last one of you to justice."
Kitsuchi, though momentarily stunned by the aggression, didn't retaliate. He felt the sting of the insult—being manhandled by a foreign shinobi was no small matter—but he also recognized the grief and desperation driving Inoichi's anger. This was not a man thinking politically—this was a father on the edge.
Despite having no part in Inoiki's disappearance, Kitsuchi kept his composure. Escalating the conflict now would only make things worse.
Shikaku stepped in swiftly, placing a firm hand on Inoichi's shoulder. His voice was calm, but carried weight. "Inoichi, enough. We're here to find answers, not create new enemies. Let's focus on the search. We'll get to the truth—together."
With visible effort, Inoichi loosened his grip and released Kitsuchi, though his glare lingered. His hands clenched at his sides, and his body trembled with barely restrained emotion.
Kitsuchi exhaled, adjusting his uniform with dignity. "I understand your anger," he said evenly. "I felt the same way when my daughter was kidnapped. I also understand why you might suspect us—given our past association with Akatsuki. But I assure you, we used them strictly as hired mercenaries, not allies. We never imagined they'd go this far. And as for Inoiki..."
He looked Inoichi directly in the eyes. "He saved my daughter's life—she's the granddaughter of the Third Tsuchikage. We would never betray someone to whom we owe such a debt. We are not so ungrateful."
Jiraiya, quiet until now, gave a slow nod. "Let's go. Show us the site."
Kitsuchi and Kurotsuchi led the way, with the Konoha shinobi following in sombre silence. When they reached the location, the battlefield was eerily still—scarred by the signs of a brutal conflict. The ground bore deep fissures, scorch marks, and craters, all telling fragments of a fierce fight.
Kitsuchi and Kurotsuchi stopped a few meters short of the wreckage. Kitsuchi turned to them. "We've preserved the area as best we could. Nothing has been touched since the site was secured."
Kurotsuchi stepped forward and handed something small to Inoichi. It was a broken Konoha forehead protector. "This was the only item we retrieved," she said quietly. "I found it at the bottom of the largest crater."
She pointed toward a wide, gaping depression in the earth—its centre cracked from the impact of something catastrophic.
Inoichi took the headband with trembling hands. As he turned it over, he saw the familiar marking etched into the back plate—Inoiki's identification number. There was no mistake. This had been his son's.
For a moment, his breath caught in his throat. His fingers tightened around the metal plate. A wave of grief surged through him, but he forced it back. This wasn't the time to cry—there was still a mission to complete, and a truth to uncover.
Silently, he bowed his head, forehead protector held tightly in his grasp.
The four Konoha shinobi—Jiraiya, Inoichi, Choza, and Shikaku—spread out across the battlefield, carefully beginning their investigation. They moved in silence, each one focused and methodical. The area was filled with signs of violent conflict—charred soil, shattered rock, deep gouges in the earth, and dried blood that had soaked into the dirt like ink on parchment.
Inoichi crouched at the largest crater, collecting the scattered fragments of a once-formidable blade—Inoiki's sword. The pieces were twisted and broken, bearing the scars of immense force. Nearby, Shikaku examined the dried blood patterns, his keen mind already working through theories.
As they continued, their attention was drawn to something unusual. At the very center of the largest crater, where the impact had been the greatest, there was a distinct human-shaped mold impressed into the earth—surrounded by splashes of blood. It was unmistakably the shape of a fallen body, and the size left no doubt.
"Inoiki…" Inoichi whispered under his breath, his voice barely audible.
Shikaku, shifting his focus, called out to Jiraiya. "Lord Jiraiya—come here. Look at this spot. And there, and over there too," he pointed to three distinct areas surrounding the crater. "See these markings on the ground? The earth isn't shattered—just displaced. Subtly moved, not destroyed."
Jiraiya knelt beside him, examining the terrain. "Inoiki had Earth Release affinity, right?"
Shikaku nodded. "More than that—he could manipulate earth at will. This looks like his technique. Maybe he tried to anchor himself or shift the terrain defensively."
Jiraiya's expression turned grim as he surveyed the damage. He pointed to the crater. "Whatever happened here… the scale of destruction isn't from elemental jutsu. This—" he tapped the edge of the crater "—this was made by pure force. Gravity. Compressed, overwhelming pressure. This wasn't an ordinary opponent. It was Pain. The leader of the Akatsuki."
With each conclusion drawn, Inoichi's shoulders seemed to grow heavier. The growing evidence began to chip away at the last pieces of hope he was clinging to. He gathered the pieces of his son's broken swords into a pile and stared at them in silence.
The memories came unbidden—how Inoiki would bring those blades together, fusing them through sheer psychokinetic control into a single massive weapon, moving it with flawless precision in battle. Now, those same blades lay in ruins.
Choza and Shikaku silently stepped up beside him, each placing a hand on one of his shoulders. Neither spoke—they didn't need to. The gesture alone was enough to offer support in this moment of quiet despair.
Meanwhile, Jiraiya and Choza began gathering other evidence from the battlefield, collecting signs, markings, and residual chakra traces where possible. Inoichi, however, refused to give up entirely. He kept searching—looking under debris, examining the smallest cracks—hoping against hope for a sign that his son had somehow survived.
Eventually, Choza indicated three locations with particularly unusual terrain—the same ones Shikaku had noted earlier. At his cue, Jiraiya moved to each site and performed an earth excavation jutsu.
The ground trembled as the earth split and pulled back.
And then, one by one, three bodies surfaced—each one eerily still.
Jiraiya stepped forward, examining them with narrowed eyes. These were Pain's paths… Animal Path, Human Path, and Asura Path. He muttered. "Inoiki fought them here. He killed them. But why bury them? Was it even done by him?"
The revelation was staggering.
But the biggest question remained—was he still alive?
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