"Orochimaru!!! Stop running! Come back with me!"
Hearing Jiraiya's voice behind him—relentless, stubborn, unshakable—Orochimaru sighed.
In the end, he stopped.
He stood atop an ancient tree that had weathered countless storms and looked down at Jiraiya in his Leaf jōnin uniform.
"You really won't give up, Jiraiya…"
"Am I truly worth you clinging to me like this?"
"As if that's even a question!" Jiraiya roared, like a lion provoked to fury. "The title of the Three Sannin was forged through countless battles—through trusting each other with our lives!"
"How could I not value you?"
"You're my friend!"
"…Friend." Orochimaru repeated, and for a fleeting instant—even his gaze wavered.
Then he regained control, shaking his head with a faint, mocking laugh.
"We're adults who've found our roads, Jiraiya."
"Your childish 'friendship' game won't persuade me."
"If you don't try, how can you know?!" Jiraiya refused to back down. "I won't just stand by and watch my friend walk down a path he can't return from!"
"Jiraiya," Orochimaru said softly, almost pitying. "You're still so naïve."
"Why, even now, do you insist on looking at this world through what you learned in the Academy?"
"Endless war."
"Prophecies left by sages."
"The death of old life. The birth of new."
"Has none of it been enough to make you step beyond the identity of 'shinobi' and see the world from another angle?"
"What are you saying…?" Jiraiya's voice tightened. "What are you trying to say, Orochimaru?!"
"You see?" Orochimaru sighed. "Just like Sensei, you're bound by so-called 'nindō.'"
"Sensei planned to steal my memories."
"To make me abandon everything I gained through research."
"To forget the new perspectives I earned through blood and experiments…"
"To become a fool again—like you—who only knows how to think as a shinobi."
"To keep sacrificing for the Leaf."
"Isn't it laughable?"
"While Danzō lived, Sensei tolerated everything he did in the dark."
"Even when Danzō crossed lines, Sensei scolded him with words…"
"…and still allowed him to build power that nearly rivaled the Hokage himself."
"But once Danzō died…"
"Sensei suddenly became iron-faced and impartial."
"Suddenly his eyes could no longer tolerate a grain of sand."
"Suddenly he wanted to settle accounts with me…"
"…a disciple who once cooperated with Danzō."
"Suddenly he demanded I pay the price of memory sealing for my sins."
His voice cooled, sharp with old resentment.
"The position of Fourth Hokage candidate—he didn't give it to me."
"The position of second Root leader—he didn't give it to me."
"And now he wants to carve me into a village idiot again…"
"…so I can keep serving the Fourth Hokage he chose."
"Keep contributing."
"Keep sacrificing."
Watching Jiraiya's face turn pale then flush, Orochimaru let out a long breath.
When he spoke again, there was a dark satisfaction in his tone—like someone finally letting poison drip from his tongue.
"Yes—villages and nations stumble forward on sacrifices."
"But why does the one being sacrificed have to be me?"
"I finally saw this world clearly."
"I finally found the road I wanted—paid for by other people's sacrifices."
"If I go back with you…"
"Then wouldn't all those lives I spent be wasted?"
"Enough, Orochimaru!" Jiraiya bellowed.
He launched himself forward, emotions too tangled to name twisting across his face.
In his right hand, a massive Rasengan formed—spinning violently as he drove it toward Orochimaru with everything he had.
"So this is your answer, Jiraiya?" Orochimaru's eyes narrowed. "How disappointing…"
"Rashōmon."
White smoke exploded.
A gigantic gate with a demon face slammed down between them, intercepting the Great Rasengan.
Jiraiya's strike was serious—fierce—uncompromising.
But Rashōmon's defense swallowed the entire attack, leaving only the screeching whine of tortured metal.
And the moment the Rasengan's force dispersed—
Orochimaru's counterattack arrived.
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
A razor gale roared from behind the fallen gate, slamming into Jiraiya—who, for reasons unclear, didn't raise a single defense.
His jōnin uniform shredded into tatters.
His wild white mane snapped like a banner in a storm.
Then he was blown away—crashing through trees, splintering trunks—until he finally hit the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, motionless.
Orochimaru's expression flickered with surprise.
Then he shook his head, something complicated passing through his eyes, and turned away.
He walked toward a hidden safehouse he'd built during earlier missions.
"Your heart is shaking badly, Jiraiya…"
"I wonder if today's conversation will become the last straw that breaks you."
"If it does…"
"Then the name 'Three Sannin' will finally become nothing but an empty shell."
…
Jiraiya lay amid the ruined forest, staring up at the sky with hollow eyes.
Every part of his body ached from being hurled so far.
But compared to the pain inside his chest, the physical agony barely mattered.
Before catching Orochimaru, he'd thought carefully—seriously—about how to bring him back without leaving him drowning in hatred for the village and Sensei.
Blame everything on the dead Danzō.
Downplay Orochimaru's agency in Root's inhuman experiments and forbidden research.
After all, everyone had seen how much Orochimaru had bled for the village.
As long as the higher-ups didn't publicly trumpet his crimes…
time would blur the worst of it.
And as for "sealing memories"—
Jiraiya had already resolved himself to bind his fate to Orochimaru's.
No memory sealing.
Orochimaru could continue his research—so long as it harmed no one else.
And Jiraiya would be the one to watch him.
To monitor every move.
It wasn't a plan guaranteed to convince the village…
But at least it showed his stance.
And with the Leaf's external situation still unstable—unable to afford losing Kage-class power—
even Hiruzen would likely be willing to step back.
To stop pushing so hard to punish Orochimaru.
But now…
"How could I even say those words anymore?"
Jiraiya remembered Orochimaru's eyes and laughed bitterly as he closed his own.
There was no lingering affection for Konoha in that gaze.
No recognition.
And though Orochimaru's tirade against Hiruzen was packed with personal grievance…
Jiraiya couldn't deny that those problems existed.
"…Sensei."
"To you, Danzō was probably what Orochimaru is to me."
"You knew he walked the wrong path… but you still wanted to protect him."
To keep him in front of you.
To keep him alive in a form you could accept.
"If that's true…"
"Then bringing Orochimaru back…"
"…was never possible."
Thoughts poured in—chaotic, tangled.
Hiruzen's teachings.
The trust between comrades on missions.
Years of arguments as Orochimaru grew darker.
That final, decisive coldness—
Jiraiya's mind spun until it felt ready to tear itself apart.
"…I should go somewhere else."
Jiraiya opened his eyes and forced himself upright with a long sigh.
He didn't know what he wanted anymore.
He didn't know what he could do.
He only knew he needed to leave—to find a different air, a different sky, somewhere he could quiet the noise in his head.
But where could he go…
…that would truly let him empty his mind?
Two answers surfaced, uninvited.
Akatsuki—Nagato, Yahiko, Konan.
And Kirigakure—still rebuilding, still changing.
Jiraiya shuddered and shoved the second thought away as if it were poison.
"…Akatsuki," he muttered. "At least I can still understand what Nagato and the others are thinking."
"And if I'm going to stay with them for a while…"
"I can't use my real face."
"If Cloud, Stone, and Sand start suspecting Akatsuki is a 'peace organization' backed by Mist and Leaf…"
"That would be a disaster."
"Besides…"
"Akatsuki's taken in a huge wave of shinobi lately. Their strength has grown—but problems will grow with it."
"If I go help…"
"Then that brat Kaguya Ren won't be able to mock me anymore…"
"…for being an irresponsible teacher who dumps everything on his students."
Jiraiya breathed out.
Decision made.
"…Yeah."
"That'll do."
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