"Find Ibiki. He'll know how to handle that guy."
Jiraiya's voice was muffled as he spoke from inside the toad's throat, disguised as a Rain-nin. He'd infiltrated the village and captured two low-ranking sentries without incident.
Everything was going according to canon.
Until he saw Kenshin—Young Kenshin—standing in the rain.
"Hello, Pervy Sage."
Kenshin raised a hand in casual greeting, rainwater streaming down his face and soaking the red-cloud cloak draped over his shoulders.
Jiraiya's eyes narrowed. Shock flickered across his expression—but only for a moment. He'd heard the rumors. Tsunade had briefed him on the unorthodox solo mission, the rogue-nin facade, the infiltration.
Still. Seeing the Akatsuki cloak in person was another matter.
"Hello to you too," Jiraiya replied, his tone measured.
"So. We infiltrating now?"
"I'm Konoha's spymaster," Jiraiya said, studying him. "Is there a reason you're doing this?"
Kenshin's expression shifted—something heavier settling into his eyes. "You do know you're going to die here, right?"
Jiraiya's jaw tightened. "Are you here to kill me? I would've liked to gather intel on your leader before that happens."
"Why would I kill you?" Kenshin's voice softened, almost weary. "You're Naruto's sensei."
He took a step closer, rain pooling at their feet.
"I'm here to help you. I can't just… watch you walk into your own death. You shouldn't have come. I'm good enough to feed intel to the Leaf on my own."
Jiraiya's brow furrowed. "You're going to quit your mission to help me?"
"What else can I do?" Kenshin's voice carried a quiet frustration. "Who asked you to come to a village crawling with at least six S-rank missing-nin? The Leaf can't afford to lose its powerhouses. I heard Asuma died."
"Your group is going around killing people," Jiraiya said, his tone playful.
Kenshin shrugged, rainwater dripping from his hair. "The Leaf's done it too."
A beat of silence.
"Let's move," Kenshin said, turning. "Getting to the tower should be quick. You wouldn't want them to jump you before you jump them."
---
Konan appeared in a cascade of paper, folding into form beside Pain's Animal Path. The rain barely touched her.
"Well?" Pain's voice was flat, emotionless.
"It's Jiraiya," Konan said.
"Jiraiya-sensei?" There was a faint ripple in Pain's tone—something almost like nostalgia. "Just his name takes me back."
Konan hesitated. "But he's with Kenshin."
Before Pain could respond, the air shimmered.
"No need to trouble yourself," a calm voice said. "I came to inform you of the change in plan."
Aizen materialized before them, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.
"Well—your plan," he corrected. "This is going according to mine."
"Kenshin," Konan said, her voice careful.
"Yes. It is I." He inclined his head slightly, rain beading on his dark hair.
"What change do you speak of?" Pain asked.
Aizen's smile was thin, calculated. "I know you're going to kill Jiraiya. But it won't be as easy as it should be. My younger self will be helping him. You're welcome to fight at full power—just with your Six Paths. If they beat them, which they should, then you step in as Nagato. Jiraiya is yours to kill. Just… give him a chance to send intel to Konoha. And let my younger self escape. Badly hurt, but alive."
Pain's Rinnegan eyes regarded him without blinking. "What nefarious plans. Have you no qualms about me killing my sensei?"
"You have no qualms killing him," Aizen replied evenly. "Why should I? And again—for peace, it's a worthwhile sacrifice. A pervert for peace. A fair trade, if you ask me."
He turned, already fading into the rain. "Get to battling. It's been a while since the readers got a fight scene."
He vanished.
Konan looked at Pain, her expression unreadable.
"I was going to send you to rattle Jiraiya-sensei," Pain said quietly. "But it seems I'll go to him straight up."
---
"It seems you should drop this disguise of yours," Kenshin said, his voice low and urgent. "We have company."
Jiraiya's eyes sharpened. "What strong sensory prowess."
He didn't dwell on it. His gaze lifted.
The Animal Path stood on a high platform, rain streaming from its cloak. Rinnegan eyes glowed faintly in the gray light.
"Jiraiya-sensei."
Jiraiya's breath caught. "You've changed a lot. But those eyes… So you're Pain. Eh, Nagato?"
His voice cracked slightly at the edges. "I guess you didn't grow up like I hoped you would. What happened to you three?"
Another figure emerged from the rain—paper wings folding into human form.
"You must be Konan," Jiraiya said, his voice softer now. "You've grown into a fine woman."
Kenshin glanced at Jiraiya. "You know them?"
Jiraiya shot him an exaggerated look of irritation. "Obviously. He called me sensei."
"My bad," Kenshin said lightly. "Ruined your reunion."
Pain's voice cut through. "You haven't even been with the Akatsuki for long, yet you've already betrayed us."
Kenshin shrugged, unrepentant. "To betray you, I'd have to join your cause first."
A pause.
"No hard feelings, right?"
Pain didn't answer. Instead, he addressed Jiraiya. "You asked what happened to the three of us. You were right to use the past tense."
Kenshin muttered, loud enough for Jiraiya to hear, "They were three? But he doesn't seem to be the leader."
He planted the seed deliberately.
"You don't need to know," Pain said, his tone final. "You're just an outsider. Remember?"
Jiraiya's jaw tightened. "You've changed, Nagato."
---
BOOM.
The ground trembled. Rain exploded upward in a shockwave as five more figures materialized in bursts of smoke.
"Bear witness," Pain intoned, "to the Six Paths of Pain."
Kenshin let out a low whistle. "Aiya. Six versus two. Not a very fair matchup."
He glanced at Jiraiya. "Hey, Pervy Sage—don't tell me you've given up just from seeing six of them."
Jiraiya's expression was grim, his mind already racing. "How do you have six Rinnegan? And you…" His gaze locked onto the Deva Path. "You look like Yahiko."
"I understand you want intel," Kenshin said, his voice sharpening. "But let's get it while we try to survive. As you can see—six Rinnegan. Which shouldn't be possible. Which means it's a technique of some kind. We can only figure out how it works in battle."
Jiraiya nodded slowly.
"If you have a way to help, do it now."
"Mm. You're right."
Jiraiya's hands began weaving seals, his chakra rising like a tide. "I'm going to show you why they call me Jiraiya the Gallant. I'll use my famous Sage Mode. Before the summoning is complete—buy time."
Kenshin grinned, rolling his shoulders. "Buying time is what I do best."
---
Soru.
Kenshin blurred into a streak of motion, reappearing directly before the Animal Path. A sharp kick snapped forward. The Path blocked with a mechanical forearm, its expression unchanging, then countered with a piston-like punch.
They traded blows for three heartbeats—sharp, percussive impacts echoing through the rain.
Then the Asura Path lunged from the flank.
Kenshin clapped once.
Boogie Woogie.
Places swapped mid-strike. Kenshin stood where the Asura Path had been. Playful Cloud materialized in his grip, the tri-section staff humming with condensed chakra.
"I've never been a fan of group fights," Kenshin said, his voice calm beneath the rain's static hiss. "But if that's what keeps you up at night… so be it."
He spun the staff in a low arc, catching the Preta Path as it tried to siphon chakra from behind. The impact reverberated up his wrists.
"Sneak attacks," he tutted, shoving it back with a grunt.
Thump.
A heel crashed into his ribs from the side—the Human Path. Air exploded from his lungs. He skidded across wet stone, boots scraping, barely catching himself.
The Animal Path was already on him, swinging a heavy fist. Kenshin caught it on the haft of his staff, teeth gritted against the strain. From the corner of his eye, the Asura Path's mechanized limbs whirred, closing in again.
He twisted, leveraging the staff to fling the Asura Path away like a discarded tool. It crashed through a stone railing with a deafening crack.
The Naraka Path moved next—slower, more deliberate. Kenshin sidestepped, but the remaining four Paths closed around him in a tightening ring.
Five against one.
He parried a strike from the left, countered toward the center, blocked a kick from behind—movements fluid but taxed. Each Path fought with the same cold, shared rhythm, like extensions of a single will.
He found an opening.
Another clap.
Boogie Woogie.
This time, he swapped with the Deva Path, leaving it suddenly surrounded by its own allies mid-assault.
Kenshin stood apart, breathing hard. A thin line of blood traced from his lip down his chin. He grinned through it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"You've been watching, you pervert," he called toward the Deva Path. "Why don't you join the fun?"
He'd broken the Asura Path's arms. The others bore dents, cracks, tears in their cloaks.
But then the Naraka Path stepped forward, its mouth yawning open.
A pale, spectral form emerged—the King of Hell. In moments, the damage vanished. Limbs reknit. Tears sealed. Stances restored.
Kenshin groaned, frustration bleeding into his voice. "Oh, c'mon."
The Six Paths realigned, fresh and relentless.
---
"I am here!"
Jiraiya's voice cut through the downpour, broad and resonant. He landed in a crouch between Kenshin and the Paths, Fukasaku and Shima perched on his shoulders like seasoned sentinels.
"Finally," Kenshin exhaled, lowering his staff slightly. "These guys can heal themselves."
"Six Rinnegan?" Fukasaku croaked, his froggy eyes wide.
"Seems so. They share vision, too. Probably a clone technique of some kind."
Jiraiya shot Kenshin a flat look. "That's a lot of intel for such a short time."
Kenshin shrugged, still catching his breath. "Five minutes, thirty-two seconds. Even a fool would've noticed."
Jiraiya turned his attention to the Deva Path—to Yahiko's face, frozen in an echo of youth. His expression tightened with something older than grief.
"You really look like Yahiko," he said, voice low. "What happened to Nagato? How can you have the Rinnegan?"
Kenshin cut in, analytical. "So he's not the one who has the Rinnegan? Did it not occur to you that he might also be a clone? That means the real one isn't here."
Jiraiya gave a slow nod. "Seems to be the case."
Kenshin's gaze swept over the motionless Paths. "How does your technique work? Six people with the same dōjutsu but different abilities. And one who looks exactly like someone close to the real owner. Are you dead? That would mean the rest are corpses—which would make sense, seeing how you all healed so quickly."
He paused, shifting his grip on Playful Cloud. "Jiraiya-sama. I believe we have to beat them to reach the real body. But… that was the plan, wasn't it?"
His grin returned, edged and eager.
Jiraiya straightened, rolling his shoulders. A familiar, roguish confidence settled over him—the kind that spoke of battles survived and legends forged.
"Indeed," he said, smirking. "Leave it to Jiraiya the Gallant. The Toad Sage of Mount Myōboku."
The Six Paths advanced as one.
The rain fell harder.
The real fight was just beginning.
---
"I'll take the healer and the other guy."
Kenshin's finger snapped toward the Naraka and Human Paths.
"You handle the rest, Sage."
Soru tore a sonic rip through the downpour. He closed the gap before the rain could finish falling. The Naraka Path's mouth yawned open, the King of Hell's spectral head beginning its slow, ghastly ascent.
Kenshin didn't let it finish.
He drove Playful Cloud forward like a spear—not at the body, but at the emerging jaw. The chakra-hardened tip sheared through the lower mandible with a wet crack, severing the summoning channel mid-manifestation. The spectral face vanished with a silent, choked wail.
Before he could recover the staff, the Human Path was on him—fingers outstretched, reaching not for flesh, but for soul.
Kenshin released Playful Cloud and caught the wrist. He twisted—a brutal, precise motion. Bone ground against bone with a sickening crunch. The Human Path showed no pain. Its other hand shot toward his throat.
Kenshin leaned back. Nails grazed his windpipe. He drove his knee up into its sternum—a wet, hollow crunch. The body folded, but still it reached.
From the ground, the Naraka Path's remaining hand clawed at his ankle, its ruined jaw working silently. Dark, sticky chakra threads erupted from its fingertips, seeking to bind and drain.
Kenshin stomped.
His heel met the Path's wrist, pulverizing small bones. A second stomp crushed its throat. The airway collapsed with a final, wet rasp.
He left Playful Cloud embedded in the stone. His hands were free.
He looked to the Sage.
Jiraiya was a whirlwind of motion, fending off the remaining Paths—but the Animal Path's summons were tipping the scales. Giant birds, hounds, and serpents swarmed through the downpour.
"Aiya, Sage—need a hand?"
Kenshin slammed a Rasengan into the flank of a giant bird. It burst into dispersing smoke.
"Don't ask how I learned it. Just focus."
What followed was pure taijutsu choreography—a brutal, flowing exchange of blows. Kenshin and Jiraiya moved in sync, trading strikes, parries, and counters with the remaining Paths in a dance of controlled violence.
Then space opened.
The Deva Path raised a hand.
Universal Pull.
Jiraiya's body lurched forward, pulled off-balance.
"Oh no you don't," Kenshin called. "You're not the only one with cheats."
He clapped.
Boogie Woogie.
Places swapped mid-motion. The Deva Path now stood where Jiraiya had been, disoriented for a split second.
"Big-scale jutsu's welcome now," Kenshin shouted over the rain. "I don't think you have enough juice left. You're showing signs of toadification."
"That's not a word," Jiraiya grunted, sweat and rain mixing on his brow.
"You'll stop being a person if you don't end this soon." Kenshin shit back.
"Pa! Ma!"
"Right here, Jiraiya-boy."
"I'll keep the absorber busy." Kenshin was already rushing toward the Preta Path.
Jiraiya and the toads moved into formation.
"I'll bring the flame," Shima chirped. "Kid, you bring the oil. Pa, fan the flames."
"Sounds good," Jiraiya said, weaving hand seals.
"Yeah," Fukasaku agreed, puffing his cheeks.
"Sage Art: Goemon!"
A burst of flame, oil, and wind merged into a roaring, expanding inferno that lit the rain-streaked plaza in hellish orange.
The Deva Path raised its hand, gathering repulsive force.
Almighty Push—
Not today.
While grappling the Preta Path, Kenshin clapped once more.
Boogie Woogie.
He swapped the Deva Path with the still-embedded Playful Cloud, leaving it disarmed and displaced just as the flames washed over the Animal and Asura Paths.
Kenshin released the Preta Path and appeared behind it in the same motion.
"Seems your time has come."
A giant Rasengan slammed into its back.
Kenshin straightened, breathing hard. Rain washed the ash from his clothes.
"It's just you now, boss," he called, walking slowly toward the sole remaining Deva Path. "How does it feel to be outnumbered?"
The Deva Path said nothing. Its Rinnegan simply watched.
Then—
A fist like a falling star hammered Kenshin into the ground.
Stone cratered beneath him. The air left his lungs in a pained rush. Through ringing ears and blurring vision, he saw him.
Nagato had arrived.
"You're… Nagato?"
Nagato's eyes—those same Rinnegan—flicked toward his old teacher.
"Jiraiya-sensei."
He acknowledged him with a single, weighted word.
Then he raised a hand.
The King of Hell emerged once more. One by one, the fallen Paths began to reassemble.
From the crater, Kenshin coughed, blood flecking his lips. His eyes widened as he took in the scene.
"Twice?" he mumbled into the rubble, voice thick with frustration and dawning fatigue.
The rain fell harder.
The Six Paths stood restored.
The fight was far from over.