Then, things returned to normal.
That half-second reaction was already enough for Luna to confirm that he had seen it and recognized it.
Jiraiya put down the pipe in his hand, slowly stood up, walked closer by a few steps, and squatted down at a position about three or four steps away from Nagato, looking levelly into Nagato’s eyes which were still shimmering with purple ripples.
His gaze was very complicated.
There was shock and confusion.
“…
Just now…” Jiraiya’s voice was a bit lower than usual, “How did you do that?”
Nagato was still trembling all over.
He didn’t know how to explain, nor did he know how to face the gaze of the white-haired man in front of him.
Subconsciously, he retreated half a step and opened his mouth.
The ripples in those eyes were still slowly spinning.
“Don’t be afraid.” Jiraiya’s voice was unexpectedly gentle, “I am not blaming you.”
Nagato was stunned.
“That move of yours…
saved your companion,” Jiraiya said, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Nagato was silent for a long time, then lowered his head and said in a voice that was almost inaudible:
“… Am I not a monster?”
Those eyes, that power he couldn’t control, that innate uniqueness—to a child, these were all heavy burdens.
He was afraid that he was a monster, afraid that that power would hurt the people around him, and afraid that he couldn’t control himself.
Jiraiya did not answer immediately.
He squatted in front of Nagato, fell silent for a few seconds, then reached out and pressed the top of Nagato’s head.
“No.”
Jiraiya’s voice wasn’t loud, yet it was exceptionally clear:
Nagato raised his head and looked at Jiraiya.
The ripples in those eyes seemed to slowly calm down, but that strange light still remained.
“A special… pair of eyes?” he murmured repeatedly.
“Mmm.” Jiraiya nodded, his gaze becoming somewhat distant, “Very special. So special that… I’ve only heard of them in legends before.”
Nagato’s body trembled slightly.
“Legends?” Yahiko crawled up from the grass, patted the dirt off his body, and asked with a puzzled expression, “What legends?”
Jiraiya did not answer him.
He stood up, his gaze still lingering on Nagato, as if pondering something.
“You guys…” He opened his mouth, his tone a few shades more serious than before, “Have you ever heard of a certain term?”
“What term?” Konan asked.
“The Ninja Ancestor,” Jiraiya said, “The Six Paths Sage.”
“In legends, the Six Paths Sage founded Ninshū and is the ancestor of all Ninja.”
Jiraiya’s voice carried a strange solemnity, “And his eyes were the Rinnegan, eyes capable of controlling life and death.”
“The Rinnegan…” Nagato murmured the term.
“Legends are just legends.” Jiraiya waved his hand, his tone becoming casual again, “I just feel that this pair of eyes of yours is somewhat similar to the descriptions in the legends.”
He patted Nagato’s shoulder, then turned and walked toward the riverside, turning his back to the four children and looking at the slowly flowing river water.
“Don’t think too much about it,” he said, “Having special abilities is not a bad thing; the key is how you use them.”
His voice seemed somewhat ethereal amidst the babbling sound of the river:
“You used it to protect your companion just now, right? That is enough.”
… Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
That afternoon, Jiraiya did not question Nagato further about his eyes.
He resumed his lazy posture as if nothing had happened, though his gaze would occasionally fall on Nagato as if pondering something.
In the evening, the four people ate dinner by a temporarily built campfire.
Jiraiya did not eat with them; instead, he sat alone on a large stone not far away, with his back to them, staring blankly at the gray distant sky.
His back appeared somewhat lonely in the twilight.
Yahiko held his bowl and lowered his voice to ask, “What on earth… does that guy want to do?”
“I don’t know,” Konan shook her head, “But he doesn’t seem to have any malicious intent.”
“Doesn’t seem malicious?” Yahiko frowned, “He’s a Ninja from Konoha! Konoha and the Land of Rain…”
“He saved us.” Nagato suddenly spoke, his voice very low, “By the river, he didn’t hurt us. Today as well, he didn’t… didn’t treat me like a monster.”
Yahiko was stunned for a moment, looked at Nagato, and then looked at Jiraiya’s distant back.
…
That night, Luna woke up in the middle of the night and found that Jiraiya was not in his sleeping spot.
She sat up and saw a tiny red spark of fire by the distant riverbank—the light of a pipe.
Jiraiya was sitting on a stone by the river, smoking alone, his back appearing exceptionally silent in the night.
The moonlight was blocked by clouds, and only the faint red light of the pipe flickered on the river surface.
The sky of the Land of Rain was always gray, and even at night, not many stars could be seen.
The Rinnegan.
The Six Paths Sage.
The prophecy.
Jiraiya believed in prophecies, believed in the prophecy of the Great Toad Sage, the prophecy about how he would take on a disciple, and how this disciple would bring a massive transformation to the Ninja World.
And Nagato, Nagato who possessed the Rinnegan…
Could he be the disciple from that prophecy?