Chapter 7
It had been a long day. The rain hadn't stopped. He wished that if he glared hard enough at the grey sky, it would part and reveal the sun. And it would change the world for the better.
All this fighting, all this destruction—it weighed heavily on him. He didn't wish to see any more of it. But no matter how hard he glared at the sky with all his hatred, it seemed it would never change.
They had been defeated. Humiliated. Forced to accept the mercy of their enemies. Everyone else was dead. They had failed. And yet they were the ones to live.
Sannin. Did that title even mean anything? It felt like a joke now. Like mockery. People called them the legendary Konoha shinobi, and yet they got the title from a defeat. It was nothing but a reminder of his weakness to Jiraiya.
"What will you do after all of this?" Tsunade asked suddenly, breaking Jiraiya's thoughts.
"Set out on more travels. Write another book," he answered without looking at her. He feared she might read his thoughts if their eyes met.
"Why don't you just settle down in the village?"
A good question. One he didn't want to answer—not to her. He didn't want her, of all people, to worry. But he couldn't stop. He still hadn't found the answer to all this meaningless hatred. He had to keep searching—for the Child of Prophecy, for a way to break the cycle of pain.
That was his destiny. Orochimaru would laugh if he heard it. Tsunade would think him mad for following the guidance of toads. But Jiraiya wanted to believe. He wanted to believe there was a way to bring true peace to the world.
"I can sense they're just kids," Jiraiya said as he saw Orochimaru tense.
"Don't let your guard down," Orochimaru replied. He didn't care if they were kids. They had all seen what children were capable of in this war.
"We know you're hiding," Tsunade called out, too tired to play games. "Show yourselves."
The first to step out was a boy. His eyes were tired, his cloak tattered—but he smiled as he approached. His left arm was in a sling. Despite the smile, his posture gave him away. He was afraid.
Two more children followed. A girl with blue hair and a boy with red hair. They didn't stray far from the first boy's back. But Jiraiya noticed how they eyed the food in Jiraiya's and Tsunade's hands.
They'd been out in the rain for a long time. Small and thin, dirty and barely able to stand. But even they looked better than the orange-haired boy. He was on his last legs—yet he stood in front of the others.
"What are you doing here? Where are your parents?" Jiraiya asked.
The other two flinched. But what surprised him was the boy's eyes. As weary as they were, they were sharp—so sharp and intelligent that Jiraiya instinctively reached for his weapon after seeing them.
"We'll leave," the boy said, probably noticing Jiraiya's actions. "We didn't know this place was occupied."
"Wait," Tsunade stopped them. "Take this."
The boy blinked in surprise. For all the sharpness in his gaze, he hadn't lost the softness behind it. He stepped forward gingerly and took the ration pack Tsunade handed him. Without a word, he passed it to the other two, who devoured it without hesitation after seeing that the orange-haired boy didn't stop them.
"Are you alone?" Jiraiya asked again.
The boy nodded.
"What about your family?"
"They were killed. By shinobi. In this stupid war. Wouldn't be surprised if some of the killers wore the same headbands as you."
Jiraiya flinched. He knew that was probably true.
"I'm sorry to hear that," he said.
"For what?" the boy smiled. "People die. Kill or be killed, right? Thanks for the food. We won't bother you anymore."
"Stop," Tsunade said before the boy could turn away. "Let me see your arm."
She had shifted fully into her motherly instinct. Even Jiraiya couldn't help but pity the boy. He looked so weak, barely able to stay standing—yet he did. He stood before them, smiling. Jiraiya could tell it was an act, a performance for the sake of the other two.
"What happened to you?" Tsunade asked, examining his arm.
"A beast tasted it," the boy replied. "Didn't like the flavor."
"Are you not afraid, child?" Even Orochimaru seemed curious. "We could have killed you. And yet you still chose to show yourself."
"I've seen it," the boy replied, turning to Orochimaru. The snake-sannin tensed. "Death. I've seen it. You can't run from it. You can't hide. You can't plead. All you can do is accept it. I knew we couldn't run from you, no matter how much we tried. So I hoped you wouldn't kill us."
"Do you want to learn it?" Orochimaru asked, surprising them all—himself included. "I can teach you how to kill."
"No," the boy's reply was just as surprising. "I don't want to learn how to kill, I want to learn how to protect."
The other two shrank from Orochimaru's gaze, but this boy didn't. He looked back at him—not defiantly, but without fear. There was no challenge in his stare, only clarity.
"Yahiko," the girl tugged on his sleeve and handed him something.
"Take this," Yahiko said, turning to Tsunade. He held out a small flower, folded from the paper wrapping of the rations. "It's all we have to give in return."
"Tsunade, don't—" Jiraiya began.
"Heh," the boy laughed. "I see which one of you three is the stupid one. You think it's a trap or something? Just take it. Let it remind you that you helped a bunch of dumb kids when you didn't have to. Maybe it'll remind you you're not a bad person."
"Hey! Who are you calling stupid?"
"You, toad-head."
"Toad-head!? What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"
The kids laughed at his red-faced anger. Even Tsunade smiled softly as she took the flower, and the girl lit up with joy at the sight. It surely was the prettiest thing Jiraiya had seen in this country.
"We have to go," Orochimaru cut in, snapping Jiraiya back to reality.
"You two go on ahead. I'll catch up," Jiraiya said, still looking at Yahiko.
"You sure?" Tsunade asked.
"Don't worry. I can manage taking care of them."
"Don't waste too much time," Orochimaru said, already turning away. Tsunade gave a small wave to the girl before following him.
Once they were alone, Jiraiya turned back to the children.
"You can call me Jiraiya."
"I'm Yahiko. This is Konan, and that one's Nagato," Yahiko introduced them. "So… what are you going to do?"
"First, let's get you nearby town."
"You really are stupid, aren't you?" Yahiko's disappointment was honest, and it stung. "We don't have money. And even if we did, older kids and bullies would take it from us. It's safer out here."
"Fine, let's get you out of the rain at least. I know a place," Jiraiya said, not bothering to argue. He knew the kid was right.
Yahiko wasn't an idiot. He knew how the world worked—maybe even better than Jiraiya did. And somehow, it was endearing the way he spoke so directly, like he trusted Jiraiya enough not to hurt them, so he could be honest with his words.
It gave Jiraiya hope. That, despite everything, not every stranger hurt them, that some might have shown generosity. It was heartwarming that they hadn't turned to hatred. He clung to that hope—he could only imagine what they'd been through.
…
The place was an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere. Still solid. Dry. Sheltered. Not many people passed through anymore—especially after the devastating battle with Hanzo the Salamander in the area.
Rumors of lingering poison gas kept travelers far away. That's why Jiraiya had chosen it. The kids would be safe here—for a while, at least. Hopefully, by that time, Jiraiya could think of a better place to take the kids.
"Wow," Yahiko said, clearly impressed. "It's pretty big."
"Come on inside," Jiraiya urged. "You're probably starving. Let's see what we can find."
He pretended to search while discreetly unpacking his supplies from a sealing scroll—a burner and some food. He didn't want the kids to feel indebted for something like that. So, he kept it a secret from them.
"Look at what I found." His acting was good enough to fool Konan and Nagato, but Yahiko didn't look convinced.
"Thank you," Yahiko said, bowing his head. The others followed his lead. "Let me cook. That's the least I can do."
Yahiko seemed confident as he prepared the food, using what Jiraiya had brought along with a few seasonings from their bags. It wasn't fancy, but it was far better than Jiraiya had expected.
"Tell me, Yahiko," Jiraiya asked as he tasted Yahiko's cooking, "why do you want to learn to protect rather than kill?"
"Because killing won't bring anyone back. I'd rather protect the ones I still have than keep the cycle of pain going. I want no part in that."
"What about you two?" he asked.
"Yahiko is stupid, so I want to help him," Konan said with a shy smile.
"I don't want Yahiko or Konan to get hurt again," Nagato added after a moment.
Jiraiya felt a jolt in his chest. He could feel their sincerity. And it reached Jiraiya's heart, too. He had never seen kids like them before. And had never heard of this kind of answer before.
These kids had seen the worst the world had to offer. They had every reason to hate everything and everyone. But they didn't. Yahiko abhorred violence. The other two just wanted to protect each other.
Their hearts—hearts that should've been filled with bitterness—were instead full of kindness.
And he could guess why.
Could Yahiko be the one? The Child of Prophecy? Is the student destined to bring peace to the world? The one he was looking for all this time.
Jiraiya wasn't sure. But he had a feeling. Yahiko could be the one.
"Yahiko… what do you think of peace?"
"It's not possible."
That answer hit harder than expected.
"Why not?"
"You mean world peace, not just between a few countries, right?" Yahiko waited for Jiraiya's nod. "I don't know how to explain it exactly, but as long as people feel, they'll keep fighting. We love. We hate. It's part of being human. How can there be peace in that?"
"Can you explain it more?"
"We're greedy. If we love something, we'll try to keep it. But what if someone else wants the same thing? We hate them. We fight," It was a simple answer, but not a stupid one. "And most importantly, people are stupid. Instead of trying to understand each other, they choose to fear each other. So how can there be peace as long as humans feel?"
"You've thought about this a lot."
"I don't want to live in a world where people hate so easily. But I'm not arrogant enough to think I can change it. Or that my way is the right way. All I can do is follow my path—and not be part of the cycle."
It wasn't the answer Jiraiya had hoped for. But it was the best one he'd ever gotten.
Maybe Yahiko wasn't the Child of Prophecy.
Maybe he was just a boy fate had led him to.
But one thing was certain—Jiraiya wanted to see what kind of change this boy would bring to this world.
"Yahiko, do you want to learn ninjutsu from me?"
A.N. Sorry for not posting as usual. Got a bit sick this week. I am feeling a lot better now, so chapters will come as they used to from now on. And it gave me time to think about my older stories, and I decided to bring them back and finish some of them. I will start by finishing "What is dead may never die." And then probably returning to "Ironheart Pirates" as I got back into One Piece.
As always, thanks for reading and supporting me, so I can continue writing without any concerns, and if you want more, up to 7 more chapters and 28 chapters in total with all my other stories, you can support me on pa treon. com \ ironwolf852.