Seeing Sasuke escorted home by members of the Military Police, Hui finally felt relieved enough to push open his courtyard gate.
But then Hui instinctively looked down at his clothes. They were marked with signs of battle, and there was a tear in them, as if something had slashed through the fabric.
His heart sank.
His Taijutsu was still far too weak. Even when he could see what was happening, things still ended up like this.
Hui thought silently, If Father hadn't taught me the concept of dimensions, Sasuke and I would probably be in grave danger right now. Was that masked man also a member of the Uchiha Clan? Were there still people like him wandering outside the clan?
But...
Hui looked down at his clothes again, and his heart clenched. He didn't want to cause Chuanhe any unnecessary worry, even though he felt it was important to tell him what had happened today.
He opened the living room door and tiptoed toward his room.
With Four-Dimensional Perception, Hui sensed someone familiar approaching at high speed.
Hui froze.
Oh no!
Why now...
Chuanhe had just returned from the town via summoning when he saw Hui standing stiffly in the living room, trying to sneak around.
They stared at each other.
After hearing the full story, a cold glint flashed in Chuanhe's eyes. The air in the room seemed to turn solid.
Obito, huh?
Chuanhe had previously agreed with Shisui that they would settle everything on the Night of the Clan Massacre. But, truth be told, he had still been a little inclined to let Obito go. Just a little.
As long as Obito was around, there would be a trail to follow for everything they did. Chuanhe would be able to face the crises of the future with greater composure.
But now...
In Chuanhe's eyes, Obito's future treatment could now rival Danzo's.
Hui and Yuki were his inviolable lines. Anyone who tried to cross them would face his unrelenting revenge.
Thinking back over Hui's fight, Chuanhe was still fairly satisfied.
At Hui's age, Chuanhe hadn't even been able to throw a Shuriken accurately. How could he blame Hui for not doing even better?
"Next time you fight, Hui, remember to pay attention to your companion. After all, you can only have a future if you're alive."
"But you made a good decision. Even if you'd used the Flame Explosion Technique to teleport into his space, he wouldn't have died. You'd only have exposed your abilities."
Hui already regretted not being more decisive and sending Sasuke away immediately.
But at Chuanhe's next words, Hui was stunned. What kind of person could survive the Flame Explosion Technique unscathed?
There hadn't been enough time. He'd had to save Sasuke first.
If he'd had a few more seconds, Hui might really have done it.
Then Hui thought of a technique.
Izanagi.
A technique that turned all damage into a dream—it was the Uchiha Clan's ultimate trump card for survival.
I see. If that was the case, then he really had no way to keep the man there.
Even using Space Severing would only have exposed his abilities.
"Father, who was he? Someone like that couldn't be completely unknown, could he?"
Chuanhe was silent for a moment, then replied,
"He was the culprit behind the Night of the Nine-Tails, Naruto's greatest enemy."
Hui's emotions suddenly got the better of him. "What? Damn it! If I'd known, I would've at least taught him a lesson!"
Chuanhe patted Hui on the head. "You'll get your chance. Don't worry."
Meanwhile, at Mount Myoboku.
A hazy mist shrouded Mount Myoboku. The air was filled with the fresh scent of plants, soothing the spirit.
Jiraiya suddenly appeared on the stone steps winding up the mountain.
He had been taking reference photos at a hot spring with his camera, but now he looked rather disheveled.
A few cherry blossom petals still clung to Jiraiya's white hair, and his clothes were stained with wine that hadn't yet dried. It was clear he'd been interrupted in the middle of his "important work" by a sudden summons.
Sage Fukasaku crouched on a moss-covered boulder, his narrowed eyes studying Jiraiya.
As a toad, he simply couldn't understand the strange customs of humans.
Sage Fukasaku cleared his throat. "Sorry about this, Jiraiya."
"The old man suddenly said he wanted to see you. Seems he saw something incredible in a prophecy."
At that, Jiraiya's expression changed abruptly. The awkwardness vanished from his face.
Could there finally be a new clue about the child of prophecy he'd spent so many years searching for? His heart began to beat faster.
Just then, Sage Shima hopped out from the bushes, carrying a steaming bowl. "Jiraiya!"
She called out cheerfully, "You're just in time! I've made my special all-insect feast. There are deep-fried centipedes, steamed longhorn beetle larvae..."
Jiraiya's expression immediately fell, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He interrupted Sage Shima before she could list any more dishes.
Fighting back his nausea, he gave an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his head. "Ahaha... Sage Shima, I'm really sorry, but I... um... have an important meeting today. Why don't we go see the Great Toad Sage first?"
He discreetly wiped the sweat from his forehead, remembering with horror the last time he'd been forced to sample Mount Myoboku's "delicacies."
Those wriggling insects, that bizarre sensation of them bursting on his tongue... Just thinking about it made him shudder.
Sage Fukasaku shook his head helplessly. "It's a rare delicacy, you know. Oh, well. Come with me, Jiraiya."
The man and the toad went together to the Great Toad Sage's residence.
A gigantic, ancient toad sat in an enormous chair, looking as if he were asleep.
Sage Fukasaku took a deep breath and called to the Great Toad Sage, "Old man, wake up! Jiraiya's here."
The toad in the chair remained completely unresponsive.
"Old man!" Sage Fukasaku raised his voice.
At last, the old toad's eyes cracked open.
"Hm? Jiraiya. What brings you here today?"
Sage Fukasaku turned to Jiraiya and said, "The old man's probably getting senile. He keeps forgetting things. Jiraiya, wait here for a moment."
The ancient toad finally seemed to wake up. He looked at Jiraiya.
"Jiraiya, I called you here today because I dreamed that fate had changed."
"The child of prophecy no longer exists."
Jiraiya was horrified.
No longer exists?
He had devoted his whole life to searching for the child of prophecy. What was the point of his life now?
Jiraiya hurriedly asked, "Great Toad Sage, has some major upheaval taken place?"
The toad in the chair seemed to have fallen asleep again, but he still spoke.
"Jiraiya, I dreamed... that one day, the entire world would be shrouded in a vast shadow. A pair of eyes, their color impossible to make out, seemed to be watching over the whole world from the void."
"That's all I could see, Jiraiya. The fate of the world rests on your shoulders."
"Before it's too late, find the cause of this upheaval."
After saying these few words, the ancient toad seemed to have used up all his strength. He fell asleep in his chair once more.
Jiraiya was rocked by a storm of emotions. Beside him, Sage Fukasaku furrowed his brow.
After seeing Jiraiya off, Sage Fukasaku looked once more at the ancient toad in the chair.
"Old man, what exactly happened this time?"
The ancient toad's eyes cracked open once more.
"Fukasaku, this time, it should have been a beautiful dream."
"But even the most beautiful dream means nothing if it isn't ours..."
After saying those two sentences, the ancient toad fell asleep again.
Hearing this, Sage Fukasaku narrowed his eyes.
Back at the hot spring, Jiraiya had lost all interest in having fun.
With a few quick movements, he left.
After thinking for a long time about the Great Toad Sage's prophecy, Jiraiya still had no idea what it meant.
Eyes? The void? Watching?
For some reason, the face of the orange-haired boy from Amegakure suddenly came to mind.
Those Rinnegan were indeed the eyes of a Sage, but Nagato had clearly already... Jiraiya shook his head hard, driving the thought away.
No, the upheaval mentioned in the prophecy couldn't be about him.
By the time Jiraiya returned to the quiet courtyard he'd rented temporarily, the moon had already begun to sink in the western sky.
A faint mark had appeared on the window frame at some point—the distinctive contact signal of Konoha's Anbu.
He warily surveyed his surroundings, then took a note from the crack in the door.
Teacher Sarutobi's handwriting was as forceful as ever, but the urgency between the lines made Jiraiya's breath catch.
After reading the note, Jiraiya furrowed his brow deeply.
Could all these changes be happening in Konoha?
"I hope it won't be too late," Jiraiya murmured.
Jiraiya packed his things and set off at a run toward Konoha.
Before you continue