Chapter 79: Who Are You, Really?
Bang!
"Impossible!"
Late at night, Yahiko's sharp cry shattered the quiet. The wooden table between them splintered under his fist.
Liumu stood calmly, pressing Yahiko back into his chair. "Did you see it clearly?"
The genjutsu Liumu had crafted was an altered vision of the original timeline—events following Yahiko's own death, focused on the fate of the Land of Rain and Jiraiya. It was enough. The revelation had shattered Yahiko's composure completely.
"You mean… Nagato's eyes… could be…" Yahiko's voice trailed off, thick with horror.
Recalling the broken, twisted version of Nagato he'd seen in the illusion—his closest friend, warped into a monster of grief and rage—Yahiko felt his heart constrict violently.
"It won't be exactly as you saw," Liumu said, returning to his own seat, his expression grave. "But the potential is there. You are the only person besides me to have seen this. You're intelligent. You should understand the real purpose of my visit to the Land of Rain this time."
Yahiko hung his head, his expression dark and unreadable. Then, he snapped it up, a flicker of profound suspicion in his eyes.
His voice turned cold, unnervingly so. "Who are you?" he demanded, each word sharp and deliberate. "Who are you really? How do you know these things? How can you foresee events after my own death? You've orchestrated so much here in the Rain. What is your true purpose?"
In that moment, Yahiko no longer saw the mischievous junior brother. The mystery that had always surrounded Liumu solidified into something tangible the moment those strange, vulpine eyes had shifted into slitted pupils.
Liumu wasn't worried about Yahiko losing control. Revealing this now was meant to bind Yahiko closer to the ideal path, to ensure Nagato and Konan's futures diverged from the tragedy he'd foreseen.
"I have a… predictive ability," Liumu said, maintaining his small, seven-year-old frame's posture, a gentle smile on his face. "My predictions are quite accurate. What you just witnessed is something I foresaw earlier. As for my identity…" He stood up, his smile not wavering. "I'm just your little junior brother. That's all."
With that, he left Yahiko alone in the room, lost in a stunned silence.
He wasn't concerned about Yahiko's stability. Hanzō, the architect of his demise, was already dead by Liumu's hand. What Yahiko needed now was to understand Nagato—truly understand him, and the nature of those eyes. That understanding would drive him to help Liumu reshape the Akatsuki and guide its future development.
Including Jiraiya's fate in the vision was to cement the urgency. To Yahiko, Jiraiya, who had saved them from the Rain's tragedy, was a father figure. That connection would steel his resolve.
The night rain seeped in, cold and steady, soaking Liumu's clothes as he stepped outside. Staring into the dark, weeping landscape, he seemed to see a glimpse of the future—of Jiraiya infiltrating this very village, alone.
He clenched his fists, knuckles popping faintly.
"Jiraiya will not die. Yahiko will not die. And Nagato's future… is not set."
Liumu was certain. By changing the course of events here, he had already begun a subtle, hidden contest with the shadow manipulating things from afar. Nagato was the key piece on that board, but Liumu was determined not to let that shadow play him. He would check that move, completely.
As Liumu anticipated, by the next day, Yahiko had largely returned to his normal demeanor. Though a flicker of hesitation remained when their eyes met, Liumu could see the new determination burning within—the understanding he had hoped to instill.
Three Years Later
Time flowed like a river. Three years passed in the blink of an eye. The first snows of winter had come and were now melting under a spring sun.
The traveling trio—Jiraiya, Liumu, and Haku—had visited many lands since leaving the Rain. Now, thick fleece boots crunched through the residual slush at the border of the Land of Fire.
Ssshh-crunch. Ssshh-crunch.
The reflected sunlight off the wet snow was almost painfully bright.
Whump!
"Ah!"
From behind a tree, Liumu, hefting a massive snowball, took a direct hit to the face from a smaller, perfectly packed one. Before he could even retaliate, a barrage of fist-sized snowballs materialized in the air around him.
Thud! Thud-thud-thud!
"Cheater!" Liumu sputtered, shaking snow from his hair and shoulders. He pointed an accusing finger at Haku, who stood grinning a distance away, looking like a winter sprite in her fluffy white coat. "It's a snowball fight! How can you use Shadow Clones?"
"It's more efficient," Haku retorted with a merry laugh. "Besides, you never said we couldn't."
Liumu: "..." "Fine! Fine! You want to play with clones?" He gritted his teeth, hands flashing through seals.
Poof! Poof! Poof-poof-poof!
A small army of Liumu clones erupted from the woods in clouds of white vapor.
"Let's have a real fight then! Last one standing buys lunch!"
However…
"Senbon Shower!"
Swish-swish-swish!
Haku's hands blurred. A thousand glinting senbon needles shot forth, each one neatly embedded into a waiting snowball, transforming them into spiky, hazardous projectiles.
"Okay, okay! I surrender! I surrender!" Liumu cried, waving his arms. "You're playing for keeps!"
Dispelling his clones, he trudged back to the riverside camp and plopped down beside Jiraiya, a rueful grin on his face.
"Hmph. Can't take the heat," Haku teased, also dismissing her clones before skipping lightly across the snowfield.
Jiraiya watched their antics with a fond smile, turning the fish on his makeshift grill. "Haku isn't the girl from three years ago, Liumu. Did you really think you could still bully her?"
"When have I ever bullied her?" Liumu shot back, before his gaze softened, lingering on Haku's playful form.
Half an hour later, as the aroma of grilled fish grew irresistible, Jiraiya called Haku over for lunch.
"Liumu, this is all your fault! Look, I'm completely soaked!" Haku complained, though her eyes sparkled with laughter.
Liumu blinked. Oh. The snowball fight.
"Here," he said, using a small Fire Release: Fireball Jutsu to carefully intensify their campfire. "Sit here. You'll dry off in no time."
Haku had blossomed over the past three years, entering the most radiant spring of her youth. Gone was the hesitant, haunted look from her days in Kiri. Now, her fair complexion glowed, her intelligent, light blue eyes were full of life, and her waterfall of dark hair cascaded to her waist. She stood nearly 1.6 meters tall, a picture of graceful beauty.
It had become her daily, unshakable ritual to have Liumu tie up her hair for her. After three years of practice, his braiding skills had become nothing short of masterful.
"Liumu," Jiraiya began, his tone shifting. "From here, you and Haku should head back to the village. I need to return to Mount Myōboku."
Liumu nodded, taking a hearty bite of fish. "Understood."
Although Jiraiya had learned Sage Mode, his ability to gather and maintain natural energy had plateaued. Mastering it fully through sheer personal effort was a monumental task.
"Oh, by the way," Jiraiya added, turning with a curious look. "I never asked. Why the sudden decision to return to the village this time?"
(End of Chapter)
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