"How's Nagato doing?"
In a small roadside town, Jiraiya and Kyoichi sat in a corner tavern, sharing a drink while watching a blacksmith hammer away at a sword. The place was located along a main route toward Iwagakure — any shinobi traveling from there would likely pass through this region.
In other words…
They were lying in wait — hoping to catch Ōnoki on his way through.
Kyoichi wasn't drinking. He just picked at the food on the table.
"Not bad. The operation's over. He's eating, drinking — with his constitution, he'll be back on his feet in two days at most."
"That's good…"
Jiraiya exhaled in relief.
But then—he blinked in surprise.
"So it's true? Madara actually planted a curse mark on Nagato?"
"Yeah."
Kyoichi didn't elaborate.
Anyone who knew fūinjutsu and barrier techniques — even if they weren't a specialist — could understand the implications. Jiraiya was no exception; he was no seal master, but he wasn't ignorant either.
He fell silent, forgetting his drink entirely.
After several seconds, he muttered,
"That damned Madara—still stirring up trouble after all these years. Good thing you caught wind of his schemes. Otherwise, we might've never realized there was someone manipulating the shinobi world from the shadows."
Jiraiya couldn't help but sigh.
He truly felt his own helplessness. If Kyoichi and young Kohinata Mukai hadn't discovered the strange chakra patterns surrounding the Uchiha and followed the clues…
They might still be in the dark today.
"Finding Madara was half luck," Kyoichi said. "That, and the fact that he was too confident."
After years of unseen plotting, Madara and Black Zetsu had grown careless. They could never have imagined there was someone alive who already knew the ending — and could work backward from it.
A man reading straight from the script.
Against someone like that — a seer of the plot itself — there's really no defense. One small slip, and Kyoichi could piece together everything and expose them completely.
So really…
Madara being discovered wasn't his failure. It was Kyoichi's advantage.
Jiraiya didn't understand all that — he just sat there, sighing deeply.
"You kids have advanced so fast… Meanwhile, I don't even know what I've been doing these past years. I've barely improved at all. Even my Sage Mode had to be completed with your help… tch."
He took a gloomy swig of sake.
As Kyoichi's research continued to revolutionize Konoha, Jiraiya increasingly felt outpaced.
That creeping sense—of falling behind.
Once, he had been one of the most famous shinobi in the world. But now, when people spoke of Konoha, the names they remembered were Kanda Kyoichi and Namikaze Minato — the "Twin Stars of Konoha."
Two masters of the Flying Thunder God, unmatched in speed — their very presence on the battlefield was a deterrent. No one dared to threaten Konoha anymore, and the credit largely belonged to them.
The "Legendary Sannin"?
Just relics of a bygone age.
Still…
Jiraiya laughed softly.
"Maybe I can't keep up with prodigies like you, but I did raise a few geniuses of my own, didn't I? Someday, my students might be the ones who change the shinobi world!"
Kyoichi smirked. "Oh, listen to you. Weren't they born geniuses already?"
"Hey now, what's that supposed to mean?!" Jiraiya protested immediately.
Though… when he thought about it — it was true.
Minato and Nagato were exceptional long before he ever trained them. Most of the techniques they mastered were self-taught or self-improved. If anything, all he really did was teach them the basics.
Nothing more.
So… the more he thought about it, the more Jiraiya's confidence wavered.
He glanced around, then leaned in and lowered his voice.
"By the way, what happened between you and the Great Toad Sage at Mount Myōboku last time? What did he say to you?"
"Nothing much," Kyoichi replied casually. "We just talked a bit. He said he'd dreamed a prophecy about me — that one day, Nagato and I would use the Chibaku Tensei together."
Jiraiya paused, blinked, and then clapped his hands together.
"Yup! That's exactly the Great Toad Sage's style — all vague setup, no conclusion! Sounds like he said something deep, but when you think about it, it's absolute nonsense!"
Ever since Kyoichi had pointed it out, Jiraiya had been paying closer attention to the old toad's habits.
And sure enough — they matched Kyoichi's description perfectly. Every so-called prophecy was full of ambiguity. It seemed meaningful, but the outcome was always uncertain — entirely dependent on human choice.
So really…
The difference between having a prophecy and not having one wasn't much at all.
He had thought maybe Kyoichi would get something different, something clearer — but no, even the Great Toad Sage's vision for him was the same half-baked riddle.
Jiraiya downed another drink and sighed.
"Still… I owe them a lot. Without Mount Myōboku, I'd never have achieved what I did. They gave me purpose, a goal to chase — and that's worth something."
Kyoichi nodded. "So last time you went there, you just talked about that?"
"Pretty much," Jiraiya said, shaking his head. "I don't go back often these days. I've been thinking a lot about those prophecies — and my own choices. The Great Toad Sage said his visions have been changing lately, so he called me back for a talk."
That was when Jiraiya truly realized—
Prophecy was just a reflection of possible futures. A dream's echo of what might be, not what must be.
The future wasn't fixed. Everything depended on one's own actions.
And because of that, his resolve only grew stronger.
To travel the shinobi world, to find his own answer to peace — and to dedicate himself to it.
At that, even the Great Toad Sage had been silent.
In fact, Jiraiya could feel it — the old toad had been stumped. As if even he didn't know what to say anymore.
That was the moment Jiraiya felt a strange disillusionment — realizing that even the Great Toad Sage's "wisdom" had its limits.
"Prophecies, huh?" Kyoichi smiled faintly. "I can do those too. For example—you, Jiraiya. I foresee that one day, you'll die by your own student's hand, your body sinking beneath the sea."
"…And what about Orochimaru, then?"
"Him? I see him leaving Konoha. Founding his own village. Pursuing his dream of immortality. He'll make some progress, too."
Kyoichi took a sip of water.
"Pfft—hah!"
Jiraiya burst out laughing, waving it off. "You almost had me there!"
Kyoichi only smiled in silence.
See? Sometimes, when you tell the truth—no one believes you. They think you're joking.
Still… after thinking about it a little longer, Jiraiya frowned.
"Then again… if Yahiko and Konan were to die, Nagato really might go down that path. And as for Orochimaru—yeah, immortality's been his obsession since childhood. His parents died young… and the disciple he cherished most also…"
He sighed quietly.
As a comrade, Jiraiya's feelings toward Orochimaru were complicated.
Because he knew—
Orochimaru hadn't become that way overnight.
It was a slow descent born of pain.
The death of Nawaki drove Tsunade to leave the village… and pushed Orochimaru to chase eternal life.
And Jiraiya himself?
That same tragedy only deepened his own resolve—
to keep walking the path toward peace.