The heat haze warped the air, clinging stubbornly to everyone's nostrils.
Jiraiya released Sage Mode, and the two great sages vanished in puffs of white smoke. He dropped onto a scorching rock, panting heavily. His signature white hair had been grayed by smoke, and he wiped the oily sweat from his face without a shred of dignity.
"I'm old. Really old," Jiraiya muttered, pulling the dog-eared copy of "Make-Out Paradise" from his robes to fan himself. "Leave battles this big to chakra monsters like Naruto from now on."
The windblown sand gradually settled.
Temari and Kankuro practically scrambled and crawled to Gaara's side. Seeing her younger brother still standing despite being covered in blood, Temari's taut nerves finally snapped. Tears spilled from her eyes as she reached out to support him, only to stop in fear of touching his wounds.
"Gaara..." Temari's voice trembled. "It's over. Father, he..."
"He's gone."
Gaara's voice was soft, yet unusually clear. He lowered his head and looked at the pile of yellow sand at his feet, now devoid of any chakra fluctuations. That was where Rasa had been sealed.
Kankuro gritted his teeth as he looked at the corpses and severed limbs scattered all around them—the veteran "Sand Scorpion" soldiers who had sacrificed themselves to cover the retreat. "This damned war... If Father hadn't been brought back with Impure World Reincarnation, if it weren't for those White Zetsu..."
"Kankuro." Gaara cut off his brother's complaint.
He raised his head. There was no relief at having survived the disaster in those pale blue eyes, only a calmness that put others at ease. He looked around at the old shinobi who had blown themselves up to buy him time, the young Chunin torn apart by White Zetsu, and the civilians who had fallen into pools of