A few seconds later, Naruto suddenly opened his eyes. A flash of understanding—and resolve—passed through them.
"Yeah. I'm going."
He pulled the black receiver from his body, his gaze unwavering.
"I'm going to talk to him… properly."
Naruto paused, his voice low but steady.
"Consider it… for Jiraiya-sensei."
And also… to find an answer for Hinata, for Kakashi, and for the countless souls of Konohagakure who had fallen.
Sasuke looked at Naruto and let out a scoff, as if mocking his naivety and stubbornness.
But the derision soon faded. He brushed the dust from his clothes and walked to Naruto's side.
He said nothing—but the gesture said everything.
He, Uchiha Sasuke, would accompany Naruto on this journey.
"I heard what you said earlier. Honestly… my mind's a mess too. Let's hear him out together."
Seeing Sasuke stand beside him, a faint yet genuine smile finally appeared on Naruto's pale face.
"What happened?! How did they win?!"
"What happened to Sasuke's Susano'o? Did Naruto's berserk state take care of it?"
"How was the Animal Path defeated? And how were the other Paths taken down?"
"They didn't show any of the crucial details! Is this sky-screen doing it on purpose?!"
Complaints and speculation echoed across the shinobi world.
The scene shifted. Naruto and Sasuke did not linger in Konoha's ruins.
Having determined the direction, the two battered shinobi forced their wounded bodies forward with astonishing willpower, racing toward an inconspicuous hill outside the village.
That hill was their destination.
Unbeknownst to them, two furtive figures trailed behind.
Naruto and Sasuke soon arrived at the small hill. After exchanging a glance, they entered without hesitation.
Two figures awaited them inside.
One was a woman with short blue-purple hair, wearing a black cloak embroidered with red clouds. Her delicate features carried both vigilance and sorrowful resolve.
Konan.
Behind her sat a man whose appearance caused both Naruto and Sasuke's pupils to contract.
He was emaciated—little more than skin and bone.
His long white hair, dull like withered grass, hung limply around his gaunt face. His cheeks were sunken, his complexion pale as death.
Most striking of all, his frail body was pierced with numerous black chakra receivers.
Nagato had clearly anticipated their arrival. Under their guarded and complicated gazes, he slowly, laboriously raised his head and opened his eyes.
A pair of ripple-patterned purple Rinnegan glowed faintly in the dim cave as his calm gaze settled first on Naruto, then on Sasuke.
"I am… Nagato."
After the simple introduction, he extended a quiet invitation.
"Would you… care to hear my story?"
Naruto looked at the man before him—so different from the demonic figure he had imagined. What remained was not a monster, but a broken body burdened by a heavy past.
His expression grew solemn as he nodded slowly.
He had come here to talk. To seek answers.
From the moment they entered the cave, Sasuke's gaze had lingered more on Konan—more precisely, on the red-clouded cloak she wore.
Outside the cave, Karin and Kabuto Yakushi lay hidden in the best possible vantage point, silently observing and listening.
Nagato's voice echoed through the cave.
"I am… a survivor of the Uzumaki clan."
Naruto trembled slightly. He hadn't expected that the man who had brought such devastation would share his bloodline.
"When I was a child… in the Land of Rain… my parents were killed by shinobi from Konoha."
Nagato's tone remained calm, yet the root of his hatred—etched into his very bones—was unmistakable.
"I hated Konoha. I hated the great nation that brought war and death to our land."
"Later, when I was on the verge of dying in the war-torn Land of Rain… Yahiko and Konan saved me."
At the mention of those names, a faint trace of warmth flickered across his withered face—something undeniably human.
"Yahiko… was like a ray of light."
"Then Jiraiya-sensei appeared. He taught us for three years—ninjutsu, and the ideals he believed in."
Nagato's feelings toward Jiraiya were complex—respect, nostalgia, perhaps even regret.
"He believed I was the Child of the Prophecy. The one destined to bring change to the world… simply because I possessed these Rinnegan."
Nagato gestured weakly toward his glowing purple eyes, a bitter curve touching his lips.
"But I didn't believe that."
"I always believed… Yahiko was the true Child of the Prophecy."
"Not because of special eyes or bloodline—but because he possessed a heart brighter and more steadfast than the sun."
Nagato's voice carried deep admiration and longing.
"He believed people could understand one another. That hatred could be resolved through communication and goodwill."
"And unlike Jiraiya-sensei, who only spoke of such things, Yahiko acted."
"He founded the Akatsuki. In the beginning, it was an organization devoted to helping the Land of Rain—to helping all those suffering in war."
"With his passion and ideals, Yahiko drew in many like-minded comrades—people who longed for peace and were willing to fight for it."
"We did many things… helping villagers, mediating conflicts, standing against those who preyed upon the weak…"
"Those days were hard. But Yahiko's smile—and Konan's gentleness—filled everything with hope."
What Nagato described was utterly different from the terrifying criminal organization the Akatsuki would later become.
It was a beginning filled with idealism—
A group of young people bound by kindness, passion, and a desire to change the world.
Naruto listened quietly, deeply moved.
He could picture that version of Yahiko.
That version of the Akatsuki.
How similar it was to his own belief in bonds… and in mutual understanding.
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