"I've seen many war orphans, and their fates are almost always tragic. Perhaps it would be a mercy to end their suffering here," Orochimaru murmured, his golden eyes cold and calculating. The air grew thick with tension, but before the thought could settle, Jiraiya stepped forward, his voice sharp.
"Stop it, Orochimaru! We are not executioners."
Kyuushin watched the exchange, his gaze shifting to Yahiko. "Why do you want to learn ninjutsu? And why ask us? Wouldn't Hanzo be the obvious choice if power is what you seek?"
Yahiko's fists clenched at his sides, his small frame trembling with raw emotion. "In a world defined by war, power is the only currency for survival. I hate Hanzo! He turned our home into a battlefield. If not for him... we wouldn't be orphans."
Jiraiya looked out over the rain-soaked devastation, a heavy silence falling over the group. He turned to his teammates, his expression softening.
"Orochimaru, Tsunade—go back ahead of me. I'm staying behind." He met Tsunade's surprised gaze with a sad smile. "I'll look after these three until they can stand on their own. Consider it... my atonement for this war."
He knelt before Yahiko, placing a large, warm hand on the boy's shoulder. "Will you learn from me?"
Jiraiya avoided promising ninjutsu directly. Survival didn't always require chakra, and he wanted to gauge their resolve first.
Yahiko hesitated, his eyes darting past the Sannin to Kyuushin. "Can I... can I learn from him instead?"
Jiraiya blinked, following the boy's gaze to Kyuushin, who looked equally surprised. His brow twitched. "Why him?"
Yahiko flushed, looking down at his feet. To his untrained eyes, Kyuushin—who had decimated enemy ranks with spectacular jutsu—seemed like a god of war. By contrast, the Sannin had struggled against Hanzo, leaving the children with the impression that the red-haired youth was the true powerhouse. Plus, Kyuushin's age and red hair made him seem less intimidating than the face-painted "uncle."
Kyuushin suppressed a chuckle at the misunderstanding. "Kid, trust me—Teacher Jiraiya is leagues above me in strength. Besides, I have to return to Konoha. If you want to learn from me, you'd have to leave the Land of Rain and come with us."
*Wait... go to Konoha?*
Kyuushin's mind raced. He knew the future—how these three, particularly Nagato, would be twisted by Madara Uchiha into the Akatsuki. If he could bring them to Konoha now, he could derail that destiny. But the risks were immense. Bringing the Rinnegan into the village might draw Madara's eye too soon, endangering everyone. Yet, the potential to save Nagato and gain a powerful ally was tempting.
Yahiko looked torn. Leaving meant abandoning his dream of healing his homeland, but staying meant losing the chance to learn from his "idol." Finally, he shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Lord. We... we can't leave the Land of Rain yet. This is our home. I want to make it better." He turned back to Jiraiya, bowing deeply. "Please, Ninja Lord... teach us ninjutsu!"
Jiraiya sighed, resigning himself to the task. Just as he was about to speak, Kyuushin stepped in again.
"Why are you so reluctant to leave? Is there something specific holding you here?"
"It's our home," Yahiko repeated, his voice firm. "I want to fix it."
"That doesn't mean you can't leave temporarily," Kyuushin pressed. "Study in Konoha, become strong, and then return. It's only a few days' travel."
Tsunade and Orochimaru exchanged puzzled glances. Ninja didn't just "return" after training; they belonged to the village. But they stayed silent, sensing Kyuushin had a plan.
Yahiko looked confused, the concept of leaving and returning alien to his desperate reality. Before he could respond, Kyuushin turned his attention to the red-haired boy hiding behind him.
"You... are you an Uzumaki?"
Nagato flinched, shrinking back. "Uzumaki?"
Kyuushin didn't let up. "What was your mother's name? Did she ever say where she came from?"
Nagato looked lost. Konan stepped forward protectively. "Why does it matter?"
"Because we share the same red hair," Kyuushin said softly, pointing to his own locks. "That usually means we're kin. If his mother was from my clan, he might be family."
Nagato's eyes widened, looking up at Kyuushin's hair. "My mother... her name was Fusang. She never said where she was from, only that it was far away."
"Fusang..." Kyuushin frowned, searching his memories. He unlocked his Gene Lock, diving into the blurred recollections of his early childhood. A faint image surfaced—a woman with fiery hair.
"Does your mother have a mole behind her right ear?"
Nagato froze, tears spilling from his eyes as he nodded frantically. "Yes... yes! She does!"
Tsunade gasped. "Kyuushin, is she...?"
"Aunt Fusang," Kyuushin confirmed, his voice thick with emotion. "She's a distant cousin of my mother. I only met her once when I was very small."
He looked at Nagato, feeling a sudden, fierce protectiveness. This wasn't just a pawn in a future game anymore; this was family.
"Nagato," Kyuushin said, extending a hand. "Call me big brother."