Nagato's body felt heavier than usual as he was carried back into the shelter of Ame's hideout. His breathing was shallow, his chakra reserves scraped raw, but it was the weight in his chest—the weight of failure—that lingered more than any physical fatigue.
Konan was at his side immediately. Her pale lavender eyes searched his face, her voice calm but tinged with worry.
"...Nagato. You returned without Jiraiya-sensei? What happened?"
Nagato lowered himself into the mechanical frame that supported his ruined body. His voice was steady, but his words carried a rare note of hesitation.
"I was interfered with. Uzumaki Naruto… the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki. I underestimated him."
For Konan, who had seen Nagato speak of countless enemies with absolute conviction, this was unusual. Her brow furrowed.
"Uzumaki Naruto… powerful enough to make you admit this?"
Nagato's expression tightened. The images replayed in his mind: Naruto harnessing the Nine-Tails' chakra, wielding senjutsu with uncanny mastery, and his unyielding will that refused to break.
"Yes. His control of the Nine-Tails is unlike anything I imagined. The boy has grown into something troublesome."
Konan listened silently, but even she could not hide the flicker of shock in her eyes. The jinchūriki was no longer a child chasing after his master—he was a warrior standing on par with gods of old. If Nagato's plan was to succeed, the Nine-Tails was not just a target; he was a wall towering in their path.
Nagato, however, allowed no hesitation to linger in his tone.
"HNagato planned, not yet my equal. Remember, Konan—he fled. That means he recognized my strength."
He coughed lightly, then steadied himself, red hair framing his gaunt face.
"Our plan remains unchanged. I will capture the Nine-Tails personally, in Konoha itself."
Konan pressed her lips together, then finally gave a single nod. Trust in Nagato was all she had left.
Far away, Killer B—jinchūriki of the Eight-Tails—was making his way back toward Kumogakure after parting from Kisame. Though he walked with his usual swagger, humming a tune under his breath, his instincts remained sharp. Akatsuki had nearly caught him once; lingering outside was asking for disaster.
As he passed through the gates of the Cloud Village, two sentries nearly dropped their weapons. Their eyes went wide.
"L-Lord Killer B?! Is that really you?"
B blinked, then tilted his head in mock offense, breaking into one of his trademark rhymes.
"Yo! Can't you see? It's the man B—back from the sea, wild and free!"
The guards quickly bowed in relief, laughing nervously. "It's really you… thank goodness you're safe!"
True to himself, B broke into a short dance before strolling deeper into the village. But in his heart, he knew he had to report to Hielderer first.
When the doors to the Raikage's office burst open, the Fourth Raikage, A, was already on his feet. Thunder flickered faintly across his shoulders as if his chakra itself was restless. Sleepless nights had sharpened his temper since the news of B's abduction. Seeing his younger brother stroll in, cheerful as ever, was almost too much to bear.
"B!" His voice cracked like thunder. "Do you have any idea—!"
B froze mid-step, caught between grinning and bracing himself. He knew his brother's anger well.
Fortunately, A reined himself in before striking. He growled low, his eyes burning. "Explain everything. From the moment you were taken until now."
B, sobering, recounted the encounter with Sasuke, the strange Akatsuki plot, and his eventual escape. Most importantly, he told A what he had learned about Konoha's Nine-Tails jinchūriki.
A's jaw tightened. Naruto Uzumaki. That name again. And now it seemed the boy's existence had been concealed for years, perhaps since the Third Hokage's reign. Another secret buried by Konoha's duplicity.
But anger at Konoha would have to wait. Akatsuki had already taken Yugito, the Two-Tails' jinchūriki. They would not stop until every tailed beast was seized.
A dismissed B with a sharp gesture. "Stay inside the village, B. If you leave again without permission, I'll chain you to this tower myself."
B chuckled sheepishly, scratching his head. "Got it, bro, I'll take it slow."
But A wasn't laughing. As soon as the office cleared, he began pacing, lightning sparking faintly around his arms. The situation demanded action. He could no longer wait for Akatsuki to strike at their leisure.
"Prepare the summons," he told Mabui. "I will call for a Five Kage Summit."
Elsewhere, the rain of Ame fell heavy against the metallic rooftops.
Nagato sat motionless in his chair, his skeletal frame surrounded by the dormant Paths of Pain. He was gathering his strength, his gaheavilyarp. "Naruto Uzumaki… even if you can vanish with the Flying Thunder God Technique, you cannot escape forever. Konoha will fall."
But before he could rise, space itself distorted. A swirling vortex appeared before him and Konan.
Obito emerged, his masked face as impassive as ever.
Konan's paper wings unfurled, ready to strike. "Obito. What are you doing here?"
Obito's voice was calm, even cold. "I came to inform you. Kisame has been killed. Our numbers dwindle again."
Nagato's eyes narrowed. He regarded Obito as little more than an opportunist—a parasite clinging to Akatsuki's true cause. If not for his usefulness, Nagato would have ended him long ago.
"Then leave," Nagato said flatly. "Your report is unnecessary."
But Obito did not move. He tilted his head, as though mocking the man who dared to command him.
"Leave? No. It's time I took back what was never yours to begin with."
Before Konan could react, shadows surged upward from beneath Nagato's frame. Black Zetsu's tendrils wrapped tight around his body, locking his skeletal limbs in place.
"Black Zetsu!" Nagato hissed, eyes flashing. His chakra surged, but the weight pinning him was immense, far greater, screamed, paper erupting around her, only for White Zetsu to spring from the ground and bind her in an instant.
And Obito moved.
In one swift motion, his hand reached forward. Fingers brushed against the rings of Nagato's Rinnegan. Pain lanced through Nagato's skull as Obito pressed harder, ignoring his roar of fury.
"Ahh!" Nagato's scream tore through the chamber as blood streamed from his sockets.
Konan's heart seized. "Nagato!"
But it was too late. Obito stepped back, holding in his palm the spiraled power of the Rinnegan—eyes that once bent life and death to Nagato's will.
Konan's chakra surged wildly, ten thousand paper bombs folding and unfolding around her. Her voice shook with fury. "You'll pay for this, Obito! Return them!"
Obito's lone Sharingan glowed beneath his mask. "Return them? These eyes were never his. Do you truly believe the Uzumaki clan could awaken the Rinnegan? He was a vessel. Nothing more."
The words struck Nagato deeper than the physical pain. A vessel? His entire existence—his struggles, his purpose—was that what it had been reduced to?
Konan's wings trembled, rage consuming her. But Nagato lifted a hand, weak though it was, to stop her. "Enough, Konan. We leave."
She froze. "Nagato—without your eyes—"
"Then we find replacements. Survive first, grieve later." His voice was harsh, commanding, even through the agony.
Konan bit her lip, fury simmering in her chest, but obeyed. Paper wings lifted them both into the storm outside, retreating into the rain.
Behind them, Obito examined the Rinnegan with quiet triumph.
"At last. Madara's legacy… mine to wield."
He vanished into the distortion of Kamui, leaving only the hiss of rain.
Black Zetsu slid back into the ground, his voice a whisper. Do not grow arrogant, Obito. Infinite Tsukuyomi is all that matters. Fail, and you too will be discarded.
But Obito only smirked in the void between worlds, clutching the stolen eyes.
The balance of power had shifted, and war edged closer than ever.
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