"Jiraiya-sensei, cough, cough... It's been a long time."
Nagato's lips were cracked. The only part of his body that still seemed to hold any vitality was perhaps his pair of purple Rinnegan.
"Your hair..."
Nagato's body was skeletal, and his hair had turned white.
"Merely the price of becoming a god."
"What exactly happened? How did you end up like this?"
There was an accusatory edge to Jiraiya's voice. By "like this," he was, of course, referring to more than Nagato's wretched physical state.
He meant the madman who now sought an extreme form of peace through pain.
"Heh, Jiraiya-sensei, you've never experienced pain. How could you understand mine?"
A surge of strength seemed to enter Nagato's emaciated body, and his voice grew steady.
"Amegakure lies between three great nations. Every day, its people have to worry not only about the food shortages caused by the endless rain, but also about invasions by those nations' shinobi."
"After Yahiko founded the Akatsuki, we searched together for like-minded companions, hoping to change that situation through our efforts."
"When the Akatsuki began to take shape, we explained our ideas to Hanzo of the Salamander."
"Back then, we believed that as long as we worked hard, we could lead Amegakure toward a better future."
Nostalgia filled Nagato's voice, as though he could see those wonderful days again.
But Jiraiya, who knew what had happened afterward, fell silent.
"I don't know whether you know, but judging by your expression, Jiraiya-sensei, I suppose you do?"
Nagato gave Jiraiya a wan smile, then continued.
"While Hanzo of the Salamander was talking with us, he joined forces with Konoha's Root to wipe out the Akatsuki."
"Yahiko died. He died in that plot."
"Almost every member of the Akatsuki died. The companions who once shared our ideals died before