Negotiation Destined to Fail

Amegakure, deep within the tower.

Nagato lay on his back on a specially made machine. His ribs stood out sharply, his skin stretched tight over his bones, and only those Rinnegan remained bright—bright to the point of being terrifying.

He was thinking of Yahiko.

Not Yahiko after becoming "Pain," but the orange-haired boy from many years ago. Yahiko had always walked ahead, turning back with a smile to call, "Nagato! Konan! Hurry up!" It always rained in Amegakure, yet Yahiko's smile had seemed like light capable of piercing the clouds. He had said he wanted to change this country, change the Shinobi World, and ensure children would no longer suffer through war and loss.

Then Yahiko died.

He died beneath Hanzo's blade, in Danzo's schemes, and by his own choice—to save Konan, to keep Nagato from being threatened, Yahiko had thrown himself onto a kunai.

Nagato still remembered how it had felt. He had held Yahiko's gradually cooling body as rain mixed with blood and streamed into his eyes. His Rinnegan had fully awakened in that moment. He had summoned the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path and slaughtered every enemy present, but Yahiko never came back.

From then on, he was no longer Nagato. He was Pain, leader of the Akatsuki, the god who would make the world feel pain.

Footsteps sounded, light but especially clear within that silent space. Nagato did not turn around. The Rinnegan could see the newcomer's chakra—that unique, warped space-time chakra.

"Nagato."

Obito's voice came from behind his mask, low and calm. He stood ten paces away from the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path, neither approaching nor showing any respect or humility. In this place, they were merely collaborators, each with their own goals.

"You should already know that Jiraiya wants to negotiate with you in the Land of Rivers," Obito continued. The single eye in his mask stared at Nagato's gaunt face. "How do you intend to handle it?"

Nagato remained silent.

Jiraiya-sensei.

That tall, white-haired man had appeared when they were at their most desperate. He had taught them ninjutsu, taught them how to survive, and taught them hope. On rainy days, he would tell them stories about the world beyond, about the possibility of peace. On the day he left, Konan had cried. Yahiko, his eyes red, had said, "We'll definitely become powerful ninja like Sensei," while Nagato had silently folded a paper crane.

If Yahiko had been the first light in their lives, then Jiraiya had been lightning that split apart Amegakure's storm clouds. But now...

"You're hesitating." There was no mockery in Obito's voice, but no warmth either. "Nagato, we've already sealed seven tailed beasts. We only need the Eight-Tails and Nine-Tails to summon the Complete Ten-Tails. Whether you intend to unite the Shinobi World through the Ten-Tails' overwhelming power, or I intend to use the Eye of the Moon Plan to create a world where everyone finds happiness—we must first gather all the tailed beasts."

Nagato's throat moved, and a dry voice came out. "I know."

He knew. He had always known. This path had been laid out from the day Yahiko died, every step stained with blood, every step impossible to turn back from. He had chosen to spread the idea of peace through pain, to make the world learn to cherish peace amid ultimate agony. This was Yahiko's unfulfilled wish, and the only meaning behind his own life.

But Jiraiya-sensei...

"I won't meet Jiraiya." Nagato finally spoke, his voice hoarse but resolute. "I'll inform him that Konoha can either hand over the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki or go to war."

The eye behind Obito's mask narrowed, as though judging whether those words were true. After several seconds, he nodded. "A wise choice. Emotions only interfere with judgment, and we've come this far. There can be no wavering."

Nagato closed his eyes. He did not want to look at "Madara Uchiha," nor did he want to look at this place that imprisoned both his body and soul. Yet even with his Rinnegan closed, he could still sense everything—Konan's chakra wandering outside the door, the endless sound of rain in Amegakure, and seemingly, from far away in the direction of the Land of Rivers, that familiar, warm fluctuation of Jiraiya-sensei's chakra.

"I convinced Sasuke Uchiha to join the Akatsuki." Obito changed the subject, a trace of barely detectable satisfaction in his tone. "Once the two of us have gathered the Eight-Tails and Nine-Tails, we'll discuss the plans afterward."

"Do as you please." Nagato's voice was full of exhaustion.

Obito said nothing more. His body began to distort, and space rippled like the surface of water. Seconds later, he vanished, leaving only faint space-time fluctuations to slowly dissipate in the air.

Nagato opened his eyes. The Rinnegan reflected the complex pipes and runes on the ceiling. He remembered Yahiko's final words—"Nagato, protect Konan... and don't... hate this world..."

But how could he not hate it?

Land of Rivers, an unnamed highland.

Jiraiya sat cross-legged on a flat rock, the sake flask in his hand already half empty. He was not drinking heavily, merely taking small sips now and then, letting the spicy liquid linger on his tongue before slowly swallowing. His eyes were fixed on the direction of Amegakure, his expression complicated.

The surroundings were quiet. Birds sang, the wind whispered, and a river flowed in the distance. This was the meeting place he had chosen for Nagato—open terrain, with traps and sealing formulas carefully arranged underground by Konoha ANBU. If Nagato truly came in person and negotiations broke down, he was confident he could drag this disciple with the Rinnegan down with him.

This was his responsibility as a teacher, and his resolve as a Konoha ninja.

Yet deep down, he still hoped for another possibility. He hoped Nagato was still that red-haired boy from back then. He hoped the Rinnegan's power had not completely devoured his kindness. He hoped the brief bond between master and students could become a rope that pulled them back from the cliff's edge.

"I really am an idiot." Jiraiya quietly mocked himself and took another drink.

The sun slowly climbed overhead, then gradually sank westward. Shadows lengthened over the rocks, and the air began to cool. Jiraiya's patience was being worn away bit by bit, but his body remained in a combat stance—seemingly relaxed, while every muscle was ready to explode into action at any moment.

Then he saw a white speck in the sky.

It was not Nagato, nor was it any of the Six Paths of Pain. It was a familiar figure, paper wings glowing softly beneath the setting sun, like an angel and a messenger of death.

Konan.

Jiraiya stood, placing the sake flask by his feet. He watched the figure draw closer and closer, watched Konan land twenty paces away from him—just outside the trap zone. The distance was safe, but distant.

"Jiraiya-sensei." Konan spoke calmly, but Jiraiya caught a trace of trembling in her voice.

She looked much the same as she had back then, except her eyes had changed. The girl who used to fold paper flowers and smile shyly now held only exhaustion and resolve in her eyes. She wore the Akatsuki's black cloak with red clouds, but Jiraiya remembered that when she was young, her favorite clothes had been light blue. She had said it was the color of clear skies after rain.

"Konan." Jiraiya tried to make his voice sound more relaxed. "Where's Nagato?"

"Nagato won't come." Konan's answer was concise to the point of cruelty. "He asked me to tell you this: Konoha must either hand over the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki directly or go to war. There is no other choice."

Every word was like an ice spike piercing Jiraiya's heart. He stood where he was and looked at Konan's face, trying to find traces of the past beneath that expressionless mask. But he found nothing—or rather, he did find something, but that softness had already been wrapped in something harder.

"Konan," Jiraiya took a step forward, and Konan immediately stepped back to maintain a safe distance. "Do you know what you're saying? Do you know what this means?"

"I know." A crack finally appeared in Konan's voice, faint but caught by Jiraiya. "I know it means becoming your enemies, going to war with Konoha, and... hurting many people. But Nagato said this was necessary pain. Only when the world feels ultimate pain will people cherish peace and stop fighting."

"That's twisted logic!" Jiraiya raised his voice. "Pain only breeds more pain! Yahiko wouldn't have wanted you to—"

"Don't mention Yahiko!" Konan suddenly interrupted him, emotion appearing in her voice for the first time. "Do you know how Yahiko died? Do you know what we went through? You know nothing! You taught us for three years, then you left! You planted the seeds of hope in our hearts, then left us to rot in the rain!"

She panted, her paper wings trembling slightly.

Jiraiya fell silent. He wanted to argue, to say he had missions, to say he had his reasons, but those words circled at his lips before being swallowed back down. Because Konan was right—he had left when they needed him most. He had left three children in war-torn Amegakure, then expected them to find light in their own way, as he had taught them.

But the light had been too far away, and the darkness too deep.

"I'm sorry," Jiraiya said. The words were soft, yet especially clear on the empty highland.

Konan's body stiffened. She looked at Jiraiya, at this man who had once been like a father, at the guilt and pain in his eyes. For an instant, she wanted to rush over, to embrace him as she had when she was young, to cry out all the loneliness and despair of these past years.

But she did not. She turned around, her paper wings spreading.

"I've delivered the message." Her voice became calm again, but her back looked especially frail. "Jiraiya-sensei, if... if you truly care about us, then have Konoha hand over the Nine-Tails. It's the only way to avoid war."

"I can't." Jiraiya's voice was firm. "Naruto is my student, and he is also a Konoha ninja. I can't hand him over, just as I can't hand you over."

Konan's back trembled slightly. She did not turn around, only softly saying, "Then we can only meet on the battlefield."

Her paper wings flapped, and she rose into the sky. Soon, she became a tiny white speck and vanished toward the setting sun.

Jiraiya stood there for a long, long time. The sake flask sat by his feet, and the sake within had gone cold. The wind swept past, lifting dust into his eyes.

He bent down, picked up the flask, and drained the last mouthful. The spicy taste burned from his throat all the way to his stomach, but it could not warm the icy chill in his heart.

"Looks like there really is no other way."

He turned and walked toward Konoha. His steps were heavy, and every step felt as though he were treading on shattered dreams. There was no need to dismantle the traps—Nagato would not come, and Konan had not stepped inside. All that preparation had become a joke.

But the war was real. In two days, the Six Paths of Pain would descend upon Konoha, bringing destruction more thorough than before. And this time, Nagato would not hold back or stop for anyone's persuasion.

Jiraiya quickened his pace. He had to return to Konoha, organize its defenses, evacuate the villagers, and... face the disciple he had personally taught, the one who now intended to destroy everything.

The setting sun stretched his shadow long behind him, like a wound that could never heal.

At the same time, in another hidden valley in the Land of Rivers.

Neji stood in the shadow of a large tree, his Byakugan reflecting everything that had happened on the distant highland. He saw Konan arrive, heard fragments of their conversation, and saw Jiraiya's heavy silhouette as he left.

"As expected..." Neji muttered, his face beneath the mask utterly expressionless.

He had long expected this outcome. Nagato's obsession ran too deep, and his pain was too heavy to be resolved with a single conversation. Naruto's talk-no-jutsu had only worked because it was built upon defeating the Six Paths of Pain, understanding Nagato's pain, and presenting another possibility. But the current Jiraiya had nothing—no power to defeat Pain, no ability to understand the suffering brought by the Rinnegan, not even a chance to meet Nagato's real body.

The negotiations had been doomed to fail from the start.

Neji closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Natural Energy flowed into his body with each breath, while Ryuchi Cave's Sage Art Chakra slowly circulated through his chakra pathways. He could sense things from far away.

"Since that's the case, we'll proceed according to my plan."

Neji formed hand seals and began moving—not by running, but through short-range Flying Thunder God teleportation. Each teleportation covered no more than fifty meters. With the support of Strength of a Hundred, the chakra consumption was manageable. More importantly, it produced almost no chakra fluctuations, making it difficult for Zetsu's spores to detect him.

His objective was clear: first, he would bring Mitaraishi Anko over.

This woman was Orochimaru's former disciple. She bore the Earth Curse Mark and possessed decent strength. This was the condition for an equal cooperative agreement with Orochimaru. Safe House Number Three was a naturally formed cave on the border between the Land of Rivers and the Land of Fire. Once he learned the negotiations had failed, he had immediately knocked Mitaraishi Anko unconscious and brought her here.

Neji entered the cave.

Anko's eyes widened when she saw him, and she struggled even harder. Muffled sounds came from behind the cloth stuffed in her mouth. She was clearly cursing him.

"Quiet down," Neji said, his voice specially altered to sound low and unfamiliar. "I'm not going to kill you. I just need you to stay here for a few days."

Anko stopped struggling and stared at him suspiciously. Akatsuki clothing, an unfamiliar voice—she had never seen this person before.

Neji did not give her more time to think. He walked up to Anko and formed hand seals with both hands. A more complex barrier unfolded inside the cave—soundproofing, detection prevention, self-repair, and triggered alarm formulas. If someone tried to break in from outside, or Anko tried to break it from within, he would know immediately.

"Food and water are over there." Neji pointed to several scrolls in the corner. "The unsealing method is simple. Just pour chakra into them to open them. The sealing formula will automatically release in three days. Then you can leave."

Anko made louder muffled noises, her eyes seeming to say, "Who are you?" and "What do you want?"

Neji did not answer. He checked the barrier one last time, confirmed that nothing could go wrong, then turned to leave. At the cave entrance, he stopped and said something without looking back at Anko.

"In two days, Pain will invade Konoha. Stay here, and you'll survive."

With that, he vanished into the night.

Anko froze where she was. Pain? The leader of the Akatsuki was going to attack Konoha? She had only heard that a major event would take place in two days and that ninja were being told to evacuate villagers. It turned out Pain was going to attack Konoha!

She struggled, trying to break free, but the sealing formula was too strong. Left with no choice, she could only lean against the cave wall, watching droplets of water seep down from the ceiling while her mind remained a mess.

By then, Neji was already moving rapidly toward Konoha.

His next target: the Hyuga Main House.

He needed to infiltrate the Hyuga estate before midnight and take Hiashi, Hinata, and Hanabi away without alerting anyone. This would be far more difficult than taking Anko—the Hyuga estate had a complete barrier and patrol system, Hiashi himself was an Elite Jonin, and though Hinata and Hanabi were young, the Byakugan's abilities could not be underestimated.

More importantly, he had to be covert enough to leave behind no trace. Otherwise, once Konoha discovered that the Hyuga Main House had been abducted by an "Akatsuki member," the entire situation would become even more chaotic.

Beneath the moonlight, Neji's figure darted through the forest. He used the Flying Thunder God Technique occasionally, each time at a carefully calculated point—in the shadows of trees, behind rocks, at bends in rivers. Zetsu's spores were everywhere, but he could always find blind spots, places beyond those little white things' senses.

He had already begun mapping out his infiltration route: enter through a gap in the western wall of the Hyuga estate, avoid the rotation times of three patrol squads, use sleeping gas to render Hinata and Hanabi unconscious first, then launch a surprise attack to subdue Hiashi—though Hiashi was powerful, with preparation against an unprepared opponent and the suddenness of the Flying Thunder God, he was completely confident he could end the fight within two seconds.

Then came the retreat. He would use the Flying Thunder God to teleport directly to Safe House Number Two, where there were more complete barriers and stored supplies, enough for three people to live on for over a week.

Once everything was over, once Naruto persuaded Nagato, once Konoha rose from the ruins again, he would quietly send the three of them back. Hiashi might fly into a rage or investigate, but Konoha's crisis and reconstruction would consume most of his energy. In the end, this matter would become an unsolved case.

A perfect plan.

That was what Neji told himself, but deep inside, a voice asked: Do you truly want to protect them? Or are you using this method to begin compromising with the Main House, with the system that imposed the Caged Bird Seal?

He did not want to answer that question. He only increased his speed.

Konoha's lights faintly appeared ahead, like weak fireflies in the darkness. Farther away, in the direction of Amegakure, storm clouds were gathering.