"This is our base—and from now on, it’s your base too. You’re one of us now. If I’ve got food, you’ve got food. My name’s Yahiko. From today on, I’m your big brother. Here."
The blond boy grinned, sunlight in his smile, and handed over half a loaf of bread.
"If we want peace in the ninja world, we need real strength. Someday, I’m going to be a ninja—a great ninja—who’ll change this world with my own hands!"
Yahiko twirled a kunai he’d scavenged from the battlefield, his confidence shining as bright as sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
"Nagato, tomorrow you and Konan draw Jiraiya-sensei’s attention from the flank. I’ll hit him from behind with Water Release. This time, we’re taking down his shadow clone!"
Yahiko mapped out the plan, voice steady and sure. No one could doubt victory when he spoke.
"He was a true martyr. He failed, but his spirit lives on. I believe, if we keep walking his path, Amegakure will have a future!"
Standing in the rain-soaked plaza, staring up at the corpse hanging upside down, Yahiko’s face was streaked with grief—but his eyes were unwavering, his resolve unbreakable.
"From today, our organization is born! I’ve given it a beautiful name—Akatsuki. The dawn that breaks all darkness, that welcomes the light, that overflows with hope!"
Before a sea of followers, Yahiko threw his arms wide, every word burning with passion.
"Today we overthrew Nōshin Kongō—but that’s just the first step. Akatsuki can’t rest. We keep pushing forward until this revolution is complete!"
Standing atop the Amekage Building, Yahiko waved to a tidal wave of supporters below, looking every inch the natural-born leader.
"Nagato, stick close and cover my flank! Leave the front to me!"
With a grunt, Yahiko knocked aside a puppet Arhat lunging for him. His frame wasn’t big, but something about him made you trust him, made you believe he’d never let you down.
"Nagato, you know, after all this time working in Sunagakure, I’ve been thinking. Maybe their way is the right one. Their land is even poorer than Amegakure, but look how well their people live. Even prisoners eat better than our villagers. Everyone’s got a job, money, hope for tomorrow—there’s light in their eyes. We’ve got to learn from that. While you’re here taking care of Daibutsu, keep your eyes open, bring back what works. I’ll head back first."
"Nagato, I... I don’t think I’m gonna make it. They’re after me. You... you have to run!"
"Bone fragments... must’ve punctured my lung. I can barely... breathe now. Can’t walk. You run. I’ll hold him off. Don’t forget... our dream. Look after... Konan."
Scene after scene flashed through Nagato’s mind like a lantern carousel—their memories together, Yahiko’s unwavering smile, his kindness, his courage, his stubborn hope. Now, that boy was just a cold, lifeless body—yet even in death, he shielded Nagato from the killing blows.
"Hey! Give me a hand, let’s move him!"
A stranger’s voice rang out. The "Yahiko" in front of him was lifted, stiff arms finally falling limp, like a broken-winged angel.
"No! Yahiko! Don’t go!"
Nagato reached out, desperate to hold on—but caught only empty air.
"Hey, there’s still one alive down here!"
"Doesn’t matter. Kill him."
The masked ninja tossed Yahiko’s corpse aside like garbage, drawing a kunai for the finishing blow.
Watching Yahiko discarded so carelessly, something inside Nagato snapped. The agony in his heart was overwhelming—deeper, sharper than any wound, as if every bone, every inch of skin, every pore was burning. A thousand times worse than when Konan cleaned his wounds with alcohol.
Why does it hurt so much?
He couldn’t take it anymore.
His heart felt hollowed out, his blood frozen. It was like a beast was waking inside him—rage, terror, and grief crashing together, drowning everything.
He lost control. The pain inside him shattered his reason, racing up to his skull. Every hair on his body stood on end, prickling like steel needles.
Finally, all that pain boiled over—flooding into his eyes.
It was as if he heard glass shatter. That agony became power—immense, unstoppable—breaking through every shackle and pouring straight into his eyes.
Nagato threw his head back and screamed. His frail body was yanked upright by some invisible force, sending nearby Konoha ninja stumbling back in fear.
Dozens of black rods materialized behind him, stabbing deep into his spine.
"What the hell—where’s all this chakra coming from?!"
A ninja shouted, but the words barely left his mouth before the ground started to shake. A massive hand burst from the earth.
When the enormous form finally pulled itself free, everyone could see it clearly.
A monster—humanoid, towering, terrifying.
If Jinghang had been there, he would’ve shouted, "That’s the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path!"
The giant creature seemed to receive some silent command and stomped toward the Konoha ninja.
They were elite ANBU under Danzo’s command—well-trained. After a moment’s panic, they regrouped, thinking this was just a particularly ugly, oversized summoning beast. They hurled kunai, unleashed jutsu, launched a counterattack. (Not an unreasonable assumption.)
But their attacks were useless—like scratching an itch through armor. If anything, they only enraged the monster. It threw back its head and roared, a sound like a dragon bellowing from The Abyss.
The Demonic Statue snapped its jaws open and spat out a writhing purple dragon. The beast shrieked, claws and fangs flashing as it tore through the Konoha shinobi like a storm.
One by one, the ninja collapsed, their souls ripped away before they could even scream. In less than twenty heartbeats, not a single enemy was left standing.
Nagato dropped to the ground, utterly spent.
When Aotu Tailuo and Kazama Xu arrived with the guard unit, they were stunned by the carnage.
Aotu Tailuo knelt and pressed two fingers under Nagato’s nose.
Not far away, Kazama Xu shook his head at Aotu Tailuo, eyes on Yahiko’s body.
Aotu Tailuo gritted his teeth.
"This isn’t a place to linger. Take Nagato and Yahiko’s body—we’re heading for the secret camp. Now!"
The story isn’t over...
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