Chapter 8: slipping in my faith until i fall
Now, Jiraiya knows he's a pretty adaptable guy. In his line of work, he has to know how to get along with people well and get them comfortable quickly so he can get them talking without arousing suspicion. So, he's sociable and quick to adjust, and he's good at what he does.
He also very quickly realises that he has nothing on Raijin in terms of conformability.
As soon as they set out on the road to Mountains' Graveyard, the kid falls into place beside Jiraiya like he has been there his whole life. For all his bickering and needling, Raijin is the easiest companion Jiraiya has ever had while travelling. He keeps up a steady stream of chatter, drawing Jiraiya into conversation effortlessly, setting up camp alongside the Sannin without a second thought, his shoulders relaxed the entire time.
Grudgingly, Jiraiya is impressed. The brat really is growing on him.
It's hard to dislike him once you get used to the mouthiness. Raijin is infectiously bright and enthusiastic. He's witty, youthful and quick to laugh. He talks like the world has stopped to listen to him and it couldn't bother him less. The boy is incredibly charismatic and Jiraiya can admit to being pretty charmed by him.
Menace is also very good at the art of speaking endlessly without actually saying anything at all. He easily tells stories of his recent exploits and has absolutely no problem poking fun at Jiraiya, but by the end of it, Jiraiya still doesn't actually know about Raijin's origins or what kind of life he has lived.
He can guess it hasn't been an easy life. Raijin mentions a few people only, all of them sounding like loved ones and each of them referred to in the past tense. That's an awful lot of loss for someone so young even if Raijin is a shinobi.
Jiraiya watches the blond contemplatively from across the fire they've built for the night. He has been considering the three favours he is owed since the moment Raijin proposed his deal. Jiraiya knows what one of those favours is going to be for sure, but now he considers calling in another one.
"Hey, brat," he calls out, mind made up, "I'm going to cash in the first favour."
Raijin's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh," he says, blinking "sure. What do you want?"
Leaping on the opening before Menace can try to snatch it back, Jiraiya grins viciously and demands, "Answer all the questions I ask you."
There is a flash of clear surprise on the boy's face before he snorts and barks a laugh. "I really must have pissed you off, huh, old man," he cackles. "Fine. Ask away, Pervy Sage."
He sniffs at the nickname but decides he has won more than he has lost. "Okay. Age?"
"Nineteen."
"Where did you grow up?"
Raijin inclines his head, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "A village in Fire."
"In an orphanage?"
"A civilian one." The blond hums. "I left when I was five though."
At that, Jiraiya blinks in surprise. That's…abnormally early by civilian standards. "Where did you go? How'd you survive?"
"I didn't really leave the village. The village head put me up in a small apartment and gave me money every month. I got by."
The Sannin frowns. "You just raised yourself?"
Raijin quirks his eyebrows, lips twitching in some sort of wry amusement that Jiraiya can't share because of the pit of worry pooling in his stomach. "Not like anyone else was going to do it," Raijin points out.
And, shit, Jiraiya knows that growing up in an orphanage isn't exactly a life of rainbows and sunshine. His own childhood was marked by a clear lack of adult figures he could rely on emotionally, but at least he could count on being fed and clothed and looked after if he ever got ill or hurt. He tries to picture a smaller Raijin by himself in a cold apartment, left entirely to his own devices with no real means to take care of himself.
"How'd you end up becoming a shinobi?" he finds himself asking.
The teen leans his weight back on his hands and stretches his legs out. "The idea was that if I wanted people to acknowledge me, I'd have to get really strong first," he explains. "I got lucky with finding people who could teach me how to get there."
"You had multiple teachers?"
Raijin shrugs. "Sure," he says. "Iruka taught me the basics while I was still in the village, and then I travelled with my master after that."
Jiraiya leans forward, intrigued. "What was your master like?"
There is clear amusement flickering in those bright blue eyes. Raijin looks like he wants to laugh, but his voice is so overwhelmingly affectionate when he speaks. "He was this tall, white-haired guy. Never saw him without a mask covering most of his face. He was a genius apparently, but I just thought he was the biggest pervert ever. He'd walk around reading these smutty orange books in public and peek into women's baths."
"Smutty orange books," Jiraiya repeats, his own mouth twitching into a smile at such a description of his work. What a strange coincidence. "He taught you sealing as well, then? Was he an Uzushio refugee by any chance? I noticed you used the Uzumaki hand as a basis for your style."
Raijin blinks like he's surprised. "Uh, no. No. I'm pretty sure he wasn't from Uzushio himself, but he did know an Uzumaki or two. Might have learned from them."
Jiraiya hums, accepting that. He'd love to pick the brat's brain for sealing theory sometime. Konoha's sealing style is very much derived from the Niidaime's personal hand, but Senju Tobirama had mostly taught himself using scrolls and books provided by Uzushio during the Warring Clans era. Since then, there hasn't been much change or development in Konoha's style.
While Minato initially learned from Jiraiya himself, he has since gone on to develop a far more flexible and dynamic style thanks to lots of personal experimentation and also Kushina's influence. If Jiraiya had to compare, he'd say that both Kushina and Raijin had similarities in the way they seal due to the creativity and bold decisions that seemed to be the foundation of Uzushio's powerful seals.
"Have you ever thought of joining a shinobi village, Menace?" he asks, curious. "You probably wouldn't have trouble with immigrating even during war given the skills you'd bring with you. A good sealmaster is always appreciated wherever he goes."
Raijin mouths 'Menace' to himself with narrowed eyes. Jiraiya sees the blond visibly decide that the name isn't worth fighting Jiraiya over. "None of the villages have really felt like home yet, I guess," the kid says, shrugging. "I wouldn't mind settling down I think, but the timing just hasn't been right."
The Sannin frowns. "What would home be to you?" he asks.
"Wherever my loved ones are," Raijin answers immediately, not even needing to pause and think about it. "Somewhere all of us can be safe and happy together. Where we don't have to worry about needing to fight or run."
The dream of any war orphan. Jiraiya swallows. It's a pretty thought, but Raijin is also very clearly someone who no longer has any loved ones left to mean home to him. "Sounds nice," he comments, deceptively light, even as he strengthens his resolve for when he plans on cashing in his second favour. As soon as they've sorted out the Mountains' Graveyard situation, Jiraiya is going to take this kid to Konoha no matter what.
Even if it turns out he isn't actually related to Minato, he thinks Konoha could still be somewhere for Raijin to belong. And if the boy decides he isn't keen on putting down roots there, Jiraiya will ask for them to travel together. With Raijin's obvious skill as a budding spymaster, he'd fit right into Jiraiya's lifestyle.
"You done with the questions?" the blond asks. "I was expecting a lot worse."
Jiraiya rolls his eyes. "Yeah? What were you expecting?"
Raijin shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe like a list of every person I've ever pissed off—"
"We'd be here forever," Jiraiya snorts.
"—or you could've asked me to rank every ramen stall I've tried. Or maybe you could've asked about my plan."
At that, Jiraiya's eyes narrow slightly. "Your plan?" he repeats.
Raijin's grin is too full of teeth to spell anything but trouble. "Yeah," he says. "I'm going to change the world."
As soon as they step through the entrance of one of the many hidden tunnels that form the network that Madara and Zetsu are currently residing in, a small, red-furred figure darts out to greet them.
Sayuri headbutts Raijin's shin, playfully baring her teeth. "Where have you been?" she demands, whining. "I've been waiting forever, Rai-chan!"
He relaxes a little at the 'Rai-chan'. The foxes prefer to use his real name since that is the one on his contract with them and Raijin had spent the last two days concocting increasingly more convoluted lies he could feed Jiraiya about why his summons call him Naruto. He should've known it wouldn't be a problem though.
Foxes are tricksters down to their core. A bit of subterfuge is child's play to them. It's preferred even; they probably think it's funny.
"Sorry about that, Sayuri-san," he says earnestly, scratching behind her ear in apology. "Had to let someone find me first."
She lets out a rumble of acknowledgement, sharp brown eyes turning to regard Jiraiya, tilting her head when the Sannin very clearly considers her the same way. "This is him?" she asks.
Raijin nods. "Sayuri-san, meet Jiraiya-san. He's a strong shinobi from Konoha and has kindly agreed to help us. Jiraiya-san, this is Sayuri-san," he introduces in turn, clapping his hands together when he's done. "Now that we're all familiar with each other, Sayuri-san, please lead the way."
The fox dips her head and turns tail to do as asked. She leads them through narrowing passages and around tight corners, the air becoming unpleasantly stale the further they venture in. There is the weight of old chakra that only grows heavier as they progress until eventually Jiraiya takes a shuddering breath and chokes on it.
"That—" He stops, and his eyes are wide. "Is that a bijuu?"
Sayuri tosses her head, her nose twitching as she scents the chakra in the air. "It is something far less natural. More of a vessel. It doesn't move," she corrects. "There are two human signatures—one old and one young. And there are three inhuman ones. We are nearing their hiding hole now so you will be able to sense them soon."
Raijin traces the handle of the kunai in his sleeve. "Jiraiya-san, would you take two of the inhuman ones?"
The Sannin frowns. "Will regular ninjutsu even work on them if they aren't living beings?"
"Go for the head," Raijin suggests grimly. "If it doesn't kill them, it should incapacitate them at the very least. After that, we can just seal them away permanently."
"And be quick about it," Sayuri chimes in. "Especially with the black one. He's slippery. Be fast, stay moving, and don't stop until he's down."
Jiraiya looks between the boy and his fox, something like hesitance passing over his face.
Glancing at Sayuri, Raijin struggles not to shift uncomfortably. He has done his best to deflect Jiraiya's prodding and to play dumb but it's hard to hide just how contrived this scenario is. He can't let Jiraiya go in too blindly and potentially risk the success of this mission when the entire future hinges on them removing Zetsu from the equation entirely. Unfortunately, he also can't exactly explain how he knows the things he does.
"We don't have much time, Jiraiya-san," he points out quietly. "This is a hostage situation."
The look on Jiraiya's face is still unreadable but he seems willing to set his hangups aside momentarily at least as he straightens to his full height and nods. "Let's do this."
Raijin tries to not sigh too obviously in relief. He returns his godfather's nod and rolls his shoulders.
Mission: Make Zetsu Eat Shit is officially in motion.
"The entrance is closed off," Sayuri informs helpfully when they finally make it to the cavern leading to Madara's villain lair, as if either shinobi would somehow miss the massive fucking boulder clogging their only in.
Jiraiya eyes it, mouth pressed into a thin line. "How do you want to deal with that?"
Raijin grins, and he knows it's a little too manic from the wide stretch of his mouth actually kind of hurting his face. The look of fascinated horror on Jiraiya's face is a pretty good indicator too. He reaches into his weapons' pouch and pulls out the not-so-hard-earned fruits of his labour. Raijin has always been very good at making things blow up and he has always been happy to work on improving exploding tags as a pastime.
Now, he shows one such modified tag to Jiraiya smugly. "I'm gonna blow it up."
Jiraiya sighs, immediately resigned. "Of course you are."
And blow it up he does. The explosion is glorious.
It's like the world is ending in the aftermath. The entire cavern shudders and groans threateningly, the earth shaking beneath their feet as the boulder shatters into endless debris and dust that flies absolutely everywhere. There are shouts of panic from inside the cave, and Raijin doesn't wait before throwing himself into the fray, firing off a mild wind jutsu that clears the dust and debris away enough for him to forge a path through the discord. He knows the cave isn't going to collapse; he spent weeks working on the seal to find the exact amount of force he'd need to prevent a cave-in while still getting his job done.
He can sense Jiraiya's chakra following closely behind him, and it settles the last of his nerves. There is no one he'd trust to have his back on this mission more than the man he'd seen as a grandfather in his own timeline. Raijin knows they're going to win this.
As soon as he enters the cavern proper, he takes account of where everyone and everything is. White and Black Zetsu are already starting to catch their bearings and turning to defend the entrance, but they're visibly disoriented and panicked from the surprise attack. Raijin ignores them and hurtles further in, making four clones as he goes.
Three of them head off immediately to deal with Tobi while one stays back to watch over a still unconscious Obito. That done, Raijin finally turns his attention to Madara.
The old man is only just rising to his feet from his throne at the foot of the Demonic Statue, coughing, his sharingan spinning to land on Raijin through the smoke and rubble. "You—" he starts to snarl.
Raijin doesn't bother waiting to let the crabby madman finish. He isn't interested in conversing with this particular enemy; he has heard this particular diatribe before already after all and he hadn't been impressed then either. Perhaps there would be redemption to be had with a saner version of Madara, but this iteration of him is too far gone in his own view and hatred of the world. Raijin will not risk everyone else in the shinobi world for this madman.
He gets close, distracting Madara with a quick series of slashes with a kunai that are countered by the man's gunbai before leaping back and putting just enough space between them to make the necessary hand signs. "Fuuton: Wind Cutter Style," Raijin calls, releasing three massive blades of concentrated wind chakra in rapid succession.
Madara grits his teeth and throws himself out of the line of attack, but that's okay. He wasn't the target to begin with. The blades hit home and sever the syphons that connected Madara to the Demonic Statue, cutting off the man's supply to chakra.
The rage that immediately takes over Madara's pruny face is like a balm to Raijin's soul. For a second, he wishes he had a sharingan to record the sheer outrage so he could relive it forever and be assured that he would not forget a single detail.
The effect of being cut off from chakra is instant in the way Madara gasps and hunches over, his frail body shuddering under the overwhelming burden of his age. When he looks up at Raijin, there is fury in his eyes and a bone-deep sort of despair too, because Madara is a genius even through his insanity and he knows that this means he has failed. There will no longer be any chance of him casting this world into an eternal dream for his version of perfect peace.
He opens his mouth to say something—probably to curse Raijin for ruining his carefully laid out plans and make disparaging comments as the man had been prone to do before Kaguya discarded him as a pawn that had finished playing its part to her satisfaction. It doesn't matter now.
Raijin smiles grimly and dives in close, condensing the air to augment the metal blade of his kunai. His arm goes up in an arch, tearing through his target. Madara's head rolls to Raijin's feet, and just like that, it's over.
He blinks as the memories of his dispelled clones hit him, confirming that they'd taken care of Tobi in the few minutes it took him to deal with Madara. He casts a cursory glance over to Jiraiya, finding that the Sannin is just about done with his own fight, White Zetsu already taken down and Black Zetsu swiftly losing ground against such a powerful opponent.
Pleased with how things are turning out, Raijin instead turns his attention to the Demonic Statue. He had trouble with altering the basis of a typical storage seal to allow him to put away something as large and full of chakra as the Statue. Matrices aren't his strong suit in sealing because of the precision they require in calculation which Raijin finds to be something of a drag. Moreover, he didn't even know where to begin with trying to quantify just how much chakra the Statue even contained for him to be able to plug it into the formula once he made it.
In the end, he'd had to circle back to Uzushio and its resources to see if they had something that could help him. Lo and behold, they did. Raijin is seriously so glad for his Uzumaki heritage helping him access the island and its wealth of information. What he'd found was the formula for Uzushio's method of enacting mass capital punishment. They would basically seal multiple bodies into an object and then the object would be destroyed. Typically, such a destruction performed on a basic storage seal would simply unseal the objects within in a likely damaged state, but Uzushio used an overlaid array coupled with a beast of a formula that would keep the sealed items in their container even as the container deteriorated.
This is what Raijin has taken and adapted to his personal needs. It had been slightly easier in that he wasn't sealing organic matter which is a bit of an annoyance to get around. It had also been slightly harder because of the Statue's crazy amount of chakra potentially frying any array grids and matrices he lays down into his seal.
Well, if all else fails, his back up plan is just to see if he can set the thing on fire and hoping for the best. Maybe he'll try to drag it to the nearest active volcano. Or just chuck the whole thing underwater and see if the water pressure will do what he cannot. He could make an adventure out of it.
He pulls out the scroll his seal is laid out on, eyeing the Statue dubiously as he carefully unrolls his precious seal and sticks it to the Statue. Taking a deep breath, Raijin places his hands flat against the seal and pushes his chakra through, making sure it is activated and fueled sufficiently before pulling back hurriedly. The lines of the seal light up with the bright blue of his chakra and then it immediately latches onto the nearest chakra source—the Demonic Statue. For a horrible, heart-stopping moment, there is nothing.
And then the seal flashes a blinding light that has Raijin yelping and closing his eyes, struggling to blink spots out of his vision as his brain struggles through the sudden assault on his senses. When he can finally see again, the scroll is all that is left behind, curling up innocently on the ground like it doesn't in fact contain the husk of the legendary Ten Tails.
Man, Raijin is totally a genius. He just knew that seal was going to work. They should give him a medal or something.
Whistling happily to himself, he scoops up the scroll and folds it up, tucking it into the pouch strapped to his thigh to set on fire later at his own leisure.
He pulls out a standard issue storage scroll for Tobi's body and seals that away too before finally turning to survey the rest of the chamber just as a tired and mildly grossed-out looking Jiraiya starts to head for him, a scroll in his own hand.
"What do you want to do with these?" he asks, wiping his hand down on his trousers as he approaches. The action leaves a suspicious black stain on Jiraiya's grey pants. Both he and Raijin stare at it in shared disgust.
"I'm setting them on fire as soon as possible," Raijin states bluntly. "I don't trust that whole artificial human thing they had going on. It was creepy as fuck and it needs to be purged with extreme prejudice at the earliest opportunity."
Jiraiya shudders, an understanding sort of grimness in his eyes. "Sure, kid," he agrees. His attention turns to the raised wooden bed behind them. "Check on the hostage yet?"
Raijin shakes his head in answer and turns to do just that, dispelling his clone with a wave. Miraculously, Obito has somehow managed to stay passed out for everything that has just transpired in the past fifteen minutes. Good for him.
The blond approaches the Uchiha, peering down at a young Uchiha Obito's face. This version of Obito is still untouched by the grief and despair that had plagued his older self so much. Raijin hopes he can keep it this way.
Behind him, Jiraiya gasps in disbelief when he finally registers just who their rescued hostage is. "Obito? " he says, and it comes out too airy, too shrill. His eyes are wide, mouth agape.
In this world, thus far at least, dead shinobi do not come back to life. They never have. Jiraiya understands what that means. "Has he been here this whole time?" the man questions in a whisper.
Raijin inclines his head. "For at least a week that I know of," he informs. "You know the kid?"
Jiraiya nods slowly. "My apprentice's student. We believed he died in a cave-in on a mission twelve days ago."
Humming, Raijin turns back to the prone teenager. He smooths a hand through unkempt black curls, pausing when Obito twitches at the contact.
"Is he waking up?" Jiraiya asks, crowding closer to watch as the Uchiha's eyelids flutter and brows furrow.
One sharingan red eye cracks open, two tomoe spinning in lazy circles as the boy slowly comes to. Raijin can practically see each neuron firing up individually in the chuunin's brain as both he and Jiraiya wait for Obito to catch his bearings with baited breath. Gaze turning to the man whose warm hand is still carding gently through his hair, Obito's eye widens. "Sensei?" he croaks out, voice breaking on the syllables.
He'd woken up only once before, when he'd met Uchiha Madara and been told that he would not be allowed to return to Konoha. He had tried to get away anyways, but failed because half of his body was trying to reconstruct itself using the Shodaime's cells that had been implanted in him after he'd been taken out of the cave-in that he was sure would kill him.
Obito had prayed then, viscerally and desperately, calling out to Amaterasu and begging her to help him go home. He wanted to see the sky and the trees again, and talk to all the grannies and grandpas who gossiped with him in the village, and bicker with Kakashi, and hear Rin's laugh. He wanted to eat ramen with Kushina and see Minato smile proudly at him. He wanted someone to rescue him.
And someone did. They came for him even though he'd been half ready to give up on the thought because everyone would probably just assume he died in that stupid cave. They had come for him and now he'd be okay. He'd be okay because Minato was here and Minato would make sure Obito would get home in a flash.
Achingly familiar bright blue eyes crinkle into a smile.
"Not quite, kiddo," the blond man says, and Obito frowns, tensing, because that isn't Minato's voice. "We'll get you to your sensei soon enough."
"You sure gave us all quite a scare." Obito blinks, not having realised that Jiraiya was there too. He relaxes again. Jiraiya would look after him. The Sannin was capable and strong. "Glad to see you alive, Obito-kun."
Which is nice to hear and all, but it doesn't tell Obito why this guy looks exactly like Minato.
"Are—" he starts and has to stop because his throat is exceptionally dry. He licks his lips and tries again. "Are you Minato-sensei's brother?" He thought that sensei didn't have any other family but maybe he remembered wrong. What if Obito brained himself on all those rocks and just…forgot about sensei's brother? What if he was delusional and made up his life in Konoha? What if his name isn't even Uchiha Obito? Holy shit—
"I don't have any siblings," the blond guy interrupts his train of thought, idly ruffling Obito's hair before finally pulling away. Obito tries not to miss the warmth from the physical contact too obviously. That'd be embarrassing. He isn't so touch starved to be acting that pathetic around a guy he doesn't even know yet. "My name is Raijin."
"He's an unaffiliated shinobi," Jiraiya supplies, but the meaningful look of understanding he's wearing tells Obito he isn't totally crazy for thinking that Raijin might be Minato's long-lost twin brother or something. "His fox summon is the one who realised you were stuck down here and then he brought me along to rescue you."
"Oh." Obito turns back to Raijin, the weight of gratefulness settling deep inside him. "Thanks, Raijin-san. I'd kind of figured I'd be stuck until I could try to get away by myself. I owe you one."
Raijin grins at him, and it isn't Minato's gentle smile but something brighter and toothier that Obito decides he quite likes too. "Don't worry about it, kid," he says. "Now let's get you home, yeah?"
Obito swallows the lump in his throat, unable to help but tear up at the thought of getting his life back. He'd been ready to die during the Kannabi Bridge mission, and he doesn't regret sacrificing himself for his friends, but he's so damn thankful that it hasn't all ended for him yet. That he gets to go back and spend his days with the precious people in his life again.
"Yeah," he chokes out. "Take me home please."
Raijin's face softens. His hands are warm when they gently tug Obito into his arms as he can carefully lift the boy up and off the bed.
"You got it, Obito-kun. You're going to be just fine now."