Amegakure.
Kanon arrived at the scorched remains of the battlefield. Just ahead was the site where Jiraiya had been fighting, but the air was deathly still. No sound of clashing steel, no thunder of jutsu.
Her expression stiffened. Could it be?!
Kanon pushed her body harder. She sprinted toward the center of the zone, her gait uneven and staggering. She nearly collapsed multiple times, but she kept running.
She was less than a kilometer away.
The Paths of Pain noticed her approach. Seeing her tattered appearance, clearly having just survived a life-or-death struggle of her own, even the Deva Path seemed slightly surprised.
"Kanon... why has she returned?" the Deva Path wondered aloud.
At that moment, Jiraiya launched a surprise attack on the Asura Path. Using that split-second opening, he narrowed his eyes, meticulously observing every one of the Six Paths of Pain.
That's it! No doubt about it!
They were all shinobi he had encountered once before during his travels.
The revelation struck him like a thunderbolt. He finally knew Pain's true identity.
But as he stood paralyzed by the shock, the other four Paths of Pain suddenly leaped into the air.
Kanon, now only three hundred meters away, watched as the enemies surged. Her pupils shrank to pinpoints. Beneath the water's surface, the Asura Path gripped Jiraiya by the throat and flew backward.
In an instant, his throat was crushed, and his windpipe pierced. He could no longer make a sound.
"You were too late in your discovery!" the Deva Path roared.
Four silhouettes descended from the heavens, black receivers brandished like executioner's blades. They plunged the rods directly into Jiraiya's back.
The sickening sound of metal tearing through flesh echoed through the rain. Kanon, finally reaching the scene, saw her world shatter.
Her legs gave out. She skidded through the mud, the grime splashing against her delicate face.
It had happened. Right before her eyes, her master had been executed by Pain.
Five black rods pinned Jiraiya to the ground, anchoring him to his watery grave.
"PERVY SAGE!!!" Kanon let out a soul-shattering scream.
The Paths of Pain all turned in unison, staring coldly at the girl.
Kanon's footsteps felt impossibly heavy on the frozen ground. Her heartbeat hammered in sync with her ragged gasps. She had reached the center of the battlefield, only to find a nightmare that tore at her very soul.
There, amidst the ruins, lay Jiraiya, the man who had taught her Ninjutsu, the man who had given her strength and courage, mercilessly pinned to the earth.
Kanon's world froze. She felt as though an invisible blade was carving out her heart; every pulse was a reminder of this cruel reality. Her knees buckled, but she forced herself to stand. She refused to show weakness before her master.
Her lips trembled as she tried to scream his name again, but the sound was trapped in her throat, escaping only as a voiceless sob. Tears blurred her vision, yet she could still see the jagged scars on Jiraiya's face and the pool of crimson spreading around him, the final testament to a man who fought until his last breath.
Endless agony and incandescent rage swirled within her. She wanted to lunge forward and tear Pain apart limb from limb. But her body felt paralyzed, anchored by the weight of the tragedy. She knew that even if she killed Pain right now, she couldn't bring Jiraiya back.
In this moment, Kanon truly grasped the ruthless, fleeting nature of the shinobi world. She had lost her family. Now, she had lost her master.
Her psyche fractured.
The sheer magnitude of her grief caused her Three-Tomoe Sharingan to contract into a single, sharp point. The pain was suffocating, not a physical wound, but the sensation of her heart being put through a grinder.
…
Jiraiya felt his life force waning. He had to get Pain's true identity to Fukasaku, or everything would be for nothing. But the ringing in his ears drowned out Fukasaku's voice, and his vision was fading into a grey mist.
He strained to speak, but no sound came. The trauma to his throat had stolen his voice forever.
The five Paths of Pain stood up. Seeing the trembling, staggering girl approaching, they knew Jiraiya was beyond saving. They stepped back, leaving this final moment to Kanon.
Through bloodshot eyes, Jiraiya saw her, Kanon, walking toward him with blood-red tears streaming down a distorted face, her Sharingan spinning in a needle-like frenzy.
It's no use... I'm losing consciousness.Am I dying?Have I failed? Jiraiya's body shook as he questioned himself in the silence of his mind.
In these final moments, Jiraiya's life flashed before him.
A shinobi's worth is not measured by how they live, but by what they achieve before their death. Looking back, his life felt like a string of failures.
He pursued love, only to be rejected by Tsunade. He pursued friendship, only to watch Orochimaru defect from the village. He valued the bond between master and student, yet he failed to protect the Third Hokage. Minato died in the Nine-Tails incident, and his youngest student, Kanon, had fled the village because of the darkness within it.
Compared to the legendary Hokage, his deeds seemed insignificant, a collection of boring, trivial tales. And at the very end, he was dying at the hands of his own pupils, leaving his youngest student to weep for him.
He felt Kanon's agonizing sobs, heard her screams of rage. His heart swelled with a thousand emotions.
He had wanted to die like the Hokage of old. A story's brilliance is decided by its ending. He had always believed that failure was just a trial to temper oneself. He had wanted to achieve one great deed that would erase all his past mistakes. To die as a great shinobi, he wanted to leave a magnificent stroke of the pen for this final chapter.
But it looked rather pathetic, didn't it?
He was supposed to defeat Pain, stop the Akatsuki, and save the world. Instead, he had failed even this choice. And Kanon Uchiha, his littlest apprentice, was forced to endure unbearable pain yet again because of him.
Blood-tears dripped onto Jiraiya's white hair, staining the strands crimson.
How pathetic. Is this really the end of The Tale of the Utterly Gallant Jiraiya? What a boring story.
But then, he remembered Naruto, the protagonist of The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Ninja. He was a man who stood tall. Minato had passed that never-give-up spirit to his son. And Jiraiya had passed that same Nindo to the girl sitting beside him, the one whose body was racking with sobs of despair.
He had watched them both grow. Naruto's "straight-talk" way of life, and Kanon's once-great dream of a "Peaceful Flower Field"...
Looking back, Kanon and Naruto were just like the hero of his book. They never went back on their word. They never gave up. They were determined to find that dream where everyone could understand one another.
If that is your Nindo, Naruto... Kanon... then as your master, I can't afford to lose to my students!Because a student's Nindo is something inherited from their master!Right, Kanon...?
Kanon watched as Jiraiya forced his broken body to move. Blood and tears continued to leak from her eyes. She wanted to pull him into an embrace, but she sensed he had something vital to say.
Fukasaku saw the spark of willpower ignite in Jiraiya's eyes and instantly understood.
Jiraiya, having dragged himself back from the brink, reached out a trembling hand. He gently wiped the blood-tears from the corner of Kanon's eye. Looking at her Mangekyō Sharingan, which had bloomed into the shape of a rose, Jiraiya actually managed a smile.
"Jiraiya-boy!"
The Paths of Pain, who were about to depart, stopped in their tracks. "His heart should have stopped beating," the Deva Path said coldly.
With the last of his strength, Jiraiya looked at Fukasaku. He focused his remaining chakra into his fingertip and carved a coded message into the toad's back.
He looked at the stunned Kanon beside him. His trembling lips curled into a faint, proud smile.
Never give up. That was the true choice he had to make. In front of his youngest disciple, this was Jiraiya's final lesson.
"Kanon can use intangibility. We'll finish him off, and the toad too," the Deva Path commanded.
"Understood. I've got the message," Fukasaku nodded. Just as he prepared to leap away, the Asura Path launched a barrage of missiles from the sky.
But in that heartbeat, a crimson ribcage manifested, shielding them all.
Fresh blood-tears spilled from Kanon's eyes, but this time, her Susanoo erupted from the depths of her absolute agony and suppression.
The Susanoo behind her grew bones, then flesh, and finally sprouted legs, evolving into its Fourth Form.
The sheer pressure of her chakra vaporized the Asura Path's missiles instantly. Kanon stared at the Deva Path with her Mangekyō, her face twisted in a mask of grief. With one horizontal sweep of the Susanoo's blade, three of the other Paths were obliterated.
A sense of sickly, pathological madness radiated from her, the twin fires of hatred and rage.
The Deva Path and the Human Path actually took a step back.
Faced with a Kanon fueled by such intense loathing, let alone the Six Paths, even the main body, Nagato, might not emerge victorious in a direct confrontation.
The Deva Path decided it wasn't worth the risk.
Feeling the warmth of Kanon's Susanoo enveloping him, Jiraiya felt a surge of peace.
Kanon... you and Naruto. There is no doubt. You two are the Children of the Prophecy.
Jiraiya opened his eyes wide, looking at Kanon one last time. A smile of pure relief spread across his face, though no sound escaped his lips. He slumped forward, grinning defiantly at her.
"Pervy Sa—Jiraiya-sensei!!!" Kanon's legs gave out, and she fell to her knees. This man had appeared during her darkest hours and filled her memories with light. To see him like this... she wept uncontrollably.
Jiraiya used the very last of his strength to scratch a few final words into the ground:
Kanon, I am so glad I took you as my student. I leave the rest to you and Naruto.
Seeing those words, Kanon completely broke down. She collapsed beside him, feeling as worthless as she ever had. She had achieved nothing.
As Jiraiya's life force finally winked out, her Susanoo flickered and vanished. Her blood-stained tears dripped onto Fukasaku's back.
Fukasaku looked at her sadly. "Kanon..."
Before he could finish, a rose-shaped vortex swirled around him, drawing him in.
It was Jiraiya's dying wish. Kanon would protect Fukasaku no matter what.
Seeing that the toad had been transported away by her dōjutsu, Jiraiya finally found peace. He squinted his eyes, wanting to keep his student in his sight for as long as possible.
The Asura Path fired one last missile. Pain could not allow Jiraiya to live—what if Kanon had some hidden ability to heal him?
BOOM!
The rock beneath Kanon and Jiraiya shattered.
Kanon's body turned intangible, but Jiraiya's body began to slip into the depths of the sea.
"Hahahaha!!!"
Kanon began to laugh. A wild, hollow laughter that reached toward the sky, her eyes leaking a mixture of blood and salt.
Then, she crumbled into frantic weeping. Once again, she had watched someone precious die before her. She was just as powerless as before.
She loathed herself. This time, there was no single target for her hate; she simply hated her own weakness.
"Nothing has changed!!!"
"Kanon Uchiha!!! What use is the Mangekyō Sharingan if you can't do anything?!"
"You've accomplished nothing!!!"
"It's just like always!"
Hearing her broken roars, the Six Paths of Pain shook their heads and departed. It was a matter of conflicting ideals; in their eyes, no one was "wrong."
"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" Kanon gripped her Kusanagi Sword, frantically stabbing at the back of her own hand.
She wanted to use the physical pain to punish herself, but every time the blade neared her skin, it simply passed through her intangible form.
"JIRAIYA-SENSEI!" Finally, with a desperate roar, she plunged into the water. She would not let him sink into the abyss alone.
…
Deep beneath the waves, a flicker of consciousness remained within Jiraiya. He felt the biting cold of the sea and the creeping rigormortis of his limbs.
The Tale of the Utterly Gallant Jiraiya... this makes for a decent ending, doesn't it?
The Final Chapter: The Frog at the Bottom of the Well Drifts into the Great Ocean.
Hahaha... quite fitting.
The pen is down. Now, I should think of a title for the sequel.
What should the title of the sequel be?
As his body continued to sink, a slender hand suddenly grasped his.
Through the haze, he saw her, a girl with twin tails, wearing a mask.
Who could she be? Jiraiya gave a soft, internal smile as his final spark of consciousness provided the answer.
That's right. Let's call it... "The Tale of Kanon and Naruto's Whirlpool."
…
Elsewhere, Naruto, who was desperately searching for Sasuke, felt a sudden jolt. He felt a hand clap him on the shoulder, a familiar sensation he had felt many times before. It was the way Jiraiya used to greet him.
Naruto stopped and looked back. But there was no one there.
Meanwhile, in a gazebo in Konoha, Tsunade watched a frog that had been sitting on the water's surface suddenly dive beneath the waves. Her expression grew solemn and unreadable.
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