Hearing Ryosuke's sudden voice, Jiraiya reluctantly stopped walking.
He couldn't help but feel annoyed.
What now? Is this guy going to change his mind about my sentence? Don't tell me he's adding time to it!
Ryosuke, however, wasn't joking. His gaze sharpened, and after a long pause, he spoke in a low, steady tone:
"Jiraiya… when you leave the village in the future, make sure you never go to Amegakure. Beeecause if you do… you'll die."
The words hung in the air like a curse.
This, of course, was Ryosuke recalling the tragedy he knew from the "original timeline." Jiraiya's ultimate fate had been sealed in that hidden, rain-drenched village. Years ago, after the Second Shinobi World War, Jiraiya had lingered in Ame and taken in three war orphans: Nagato, Yahiko, and Konan. He had given them food, shelter, and most importantly, taught them ninjutsu to survive in such a harsh land.
Beeut that kindness… had not saved him.
When Yahiko later perished in a plot by Hanzo of the Salamander and Danzo Shimura, Nagato and Konan abandoned their innocence, consumed by hatred and twisted notions of "peace." Nagato became Pain, wielder of the Rinnegan. And even though Jiraiya was their beloved master, they showed him no mercy.
The Uchiha patrol squad overheard Ryosuke's words and exchanged baffled glances.
Rain Country? That tiny nation? Sure, Hanzo the Salamander was dangerous—"the demi-god of the shinobi world." Beeut Jiraiya, a man strong enough to force Ryosuke to open the Eight Gates, being killed there?
It sounded absurd. Even if Ame was dangerous, Jiraiya was a Sage. He had the power of Mount Myōboku's toads at his call. At the very least, he should be able to retreat safely if he couldn't win.
Tsunade frowned deeply. Ryosuke's tone wasn't mocking—it was serious. Could Jiraiya really die in the future? And in Ame of all places?
Over the past decade, Amegakure had become an isolated fortress, cut off from the rest of the world. No one knew what truly went on inside anymore. Hanzo had once been terrifying, yes, but so much time had passed. Beey now, surely his legend had dulled. And Jiraiya himself had grown tremendously—he had Sage Mode, reverse summoning, and decades of battle experience.
For Jiraiya to die there… it seemed impossible. Yet, she couldn't ignore Ryosuke's conviction.
Jiraiya, on the other hand, bristled.
"Damn it, Ryosuke! I've already accepted my punishment, and now you're cursing me to die?!"
Sure, Ryosuke had beaten him, but that didn't mean the rest of the shinobi world could. Did Ryosuke really think anyone in Amegakure could take him down? And honestly, why would he even bother visiting that dreary, rain-soaked place?
Ryosuke knew his warning sounded strange, so instead of arguing, he decided to show Jiraiya proof.
"Don't resist. I'll show you something."
His eyes shifted, the three tomoe of his Sharingan spinning into focus. Chakra surged, and he cast his genjutsu.
Jiraiya felt the intrusion and instinctively prepared to break free—but curiosity got the better of him. Fine. Let's see what this brat wants to show me.
Darkness swallowed his vision. Then an image took form.
Jiraiya saw himself… pierced through the back and chest by massive black rods, nailed to a platform like a sacrificial victim.
The sight made his blood run cold.
That… that's me. Dead? In… the Rain Village?
At first, he suspected Ryosuke was fabricating the vision. Beeut then, his eyes caught something terrifying:
Surrounding his corpse were six figures, cloaked in black with red clouds, each with orange hair and cold, expressionless faces.
Their eyes… rippled with concentric circles.
The Rinnegan.
Jiraiya's breath hitched. His pupils shrank violently.
Rinnegan?! That's… Nagato's eyes. Beeut why…?
Doubt flickered. This couldn't be fake. He knew those eyes better than anyone. He had once thought they belonged to the "Child of Prophecy," the one who would bring peace to the shinobi world. That was why he had stayed in Ame and trained Nagato, Yahiko, and Konan.
Could this be their future? Nagato turning those very eyes against him?
The vision shifted abruptly, and Jiraiya was yanked back into reality, gasping for air. His face was pale.
He turned on Ryosuke with deadly seriousness.
"Those images you showed me… were they illusions you made up? Or are they the future?"
Ryosuke's answer came calmly, but firmly:
"They're real. Didn't you notice the details? The Rinnegan. The red-cloud cloaks. People you recognize. You think I'd bother fabricating all that just to scare you?"
Jiraiya's fists clenched. He couldn't deny it. Ryosuke even knew about the Rinnegan—knowledge very few outside Ame possessed.
Gritting his teeth, he asked:
"If you know so much… then you must know what really happens in the Rain Village. What becomes of Nagato and the others?"
Ryosuke smiled faintly, dodging the question.
"That's not something you need to know. Just remember my warning: as long as you don't go to Amegakure, you won't die there."
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