Jiraiya of the Sannin - POV
Jiraiya did his best not to blink as they were guided down the twisting waterfalls marking the entrance to the Village Hidden in the Waterfall. He couldn't see a thing, his head bound and covered, but he could at least resist completely surrendering to the indignity. A small act of rebellion.
He could already feel Orochimaru and Tsunade's irritation. Even as Genin, they had been students of the Hokage, granted the privilege of using the more dignified entrance reserved for visiting dignitaries. But those days were long gone. Now, they were prisoners of circumstance, forced to endure this insult—a stark reminder of how far they had fallen.
Worse still, they knew the only reason for this treatment: a power play. The ever-grasping council of Takigakure would not let them forget that they were the supplicants here.
They had spent months in the Fire Lord's court after recruiting Tsunade, only to be met with delays and evasions. The Daimyo had no interest in picking a side. Jiraiya understood why. The relationship between Konoha and the Fire Daimyo had never been more strained. And from the Fire Lord's perspective, interfering in Konoha's civil strife was a gamble with his own head on the line. If he backed the losing side, the victors would ensure he shared the fate of their enemies. But if he remained neutral, neither faction could justify attacking him outright.
And they wouldn't dare. The assassination of a sitting Daimyo was a death sentence for the perpetrator. The remaining four nations would unite to crush any village foolish enough to set that precedent. Feudal lords protected their own, bound by both blood ties and self-preservation. That mutual fear was the only reason shinobi hadn't simply wiped out the Daimyo system in favor of raw military rule. After all, even the most powerful shinobi had to consider the thousands-strong armies each Daimyo controlled.
Still, they traveled deeper into the village, and Jiraiya kept his senses trained on Naruto's presence beside him. It was always a concern when traveling with Orochimaru—one had to ensure he didn't get too much opportunity to indulge his… tendencies.
Jiraiya still remembered their first conversation with Tsunade, months ago.
Flashback - The Reunion
"Hey."
"Go away."
Tsunade's voice was groggy, thick with exhaustion. She was slumped over the bar counter, an empty glass in front of her. Hours had passed as they watched her drink in silence. The bar had long since emptied, the bartender handing over the keys to her apprentice—Dan's niece—before leaving them to lock up.
"Tsunade-sama?" the apprentice whispered, hesitant, nudging her shoulder.
"What?" Tsunade's tone softened slightly, directed at her student rather than the intruders disturbing her night.
"It's… Jiraiya-sama."
That got a reaction. Even in her drunken haze, her posture tensed. But then the apprentice added, voice barely above a whisper:
"And… Orochimaru."
Jiraiya heard the sharp intake of breath before Tsunade bolted upright. Faster than he expected, even for her. She barely wobbled as she pivoted, swinging an uppercut at Orochimaru's face.
His head exploded into mud. A substitution.
Not that Tsunade noticed—or cared. She never expected the hit to land in the first place. Instead, she turned, grabbing her apprentice with an ease that belied her drunken state and leaping away at impressive speed.
Too bad it wasn't fast enough.
Jiraiya appeared in front of her before her alcohol-clouded mind could react, striking her pressure points with Frog Kumite. Unconscious before she hit the ground.
Sage Mode had always been his greatest strength. The only good thing that had come out of Danzo's takeover was the improvements he'd made in senjutsu. When the Great Elders had flooded his brain with natural energy to purge the genjutsu that had taken control of his mind, it had left lasting effects. He no longer needed the full transformation—some benefits of Sage Mode remained even in his base state. And with enough meditation, he could now access perfect Sage Mode on his own.
Training had been scarce, with how much they had been moving, but the potential was there.
When Tsunade woke, she wasted no time glaring at Orochimaru.
"You do realize Sensei's death is practically his fault, right?"
Jiraiya sighed. Here we go.
"Sensei had decades of life left," he replied, tone even. "Danzo took that from him."
"Because of his damn invasion! I don't see how you can trust this bastard!"
"Are we going to keep talking about me like I'm not in the room?" Orochimaru drawled.
"Yes, we are."
Orochimaru just chuckled, lounging on the couch. "Fine. I'll just sit here and tempt your respective apprentices to my nefarious ways."
Shizune stiffened. Naruto scowled.
"How can you trust him, Jiraiya?" Tsunade asked again.
Jiraiya rolled up his sleeve, revealing the intricate seals inked into his arm.
"I got the idea from Danzo. Juinjutsu."
Tsunade's frown deepened as she studied the seals. Despite public perception, she had a solid understanding of the art—she had designed the Strength of a Hundred Seal, after all.
"This is stupid," she muttered.
"It's necessary."
"No, it's not. You don't need him. Going this far to secure his alliance is the dumbest thing you've ever done."
There was worry in her eyes. Jiraiya crushed the thought before it could become something painful. He had been down that road before. It always ended the same way.
"I disagree. I need him. And I need you." He locked eyes with her. "Danzo killed Sensei. He has Konoha."
That was all it took.
She wouldn't admit it, not yet. But he had her.
Back in the Present
"What do you mean I should wait behind?!"
Naruto's voice was thick with indignation. "Jiji was my Hokage too, you know!"
Jiraiya would have liked to bring Naruto along. The experience would have been valuable. But Tsunade had the final say, and she was firm:
"You're following the nice lady to our accommodations while we negotiate, brat."
"But why? I promise to behave!"
"Naruto—"
An explosion ripped through the air.
From the sky, a girl tumbled, wings of chakra flickering behind her. Before she could react, a detached hand shot out, grabbed her ankle, and slammed her to the ground.
Jiraiya's eyes snapped to the threads leading back to her attacker. A dead-eyed man in a tattered cloak.
No. Not just any cloak.
Red clouds on black.
"Kukuku… what a coincidence," Orochimaru's chuckle cut through the moment.
The man's gaze shifted to them. Specifically, to Naruto.
"The Kyūbi Jinchūriki… in the company of the Legendary Sannin." His voice was rough, like sandpaper on stone.
Jiraiya tensed. He knew who this was. Kakuzu the Immortal.
"Between the four of you, I see five hundred million ryō." Kakuzu's fingers curled. "Do me a favor and die quickly."
He wove a seal.
Orochimaru matched him.
Tsunade surged forward, the tip of the spear.
Jiraiya exhaled, steadying himself.
The fight was on.
"Lightning Release: False Darkness," Kakuzu intoned, his voice cold and unhurried.
He extended his hands forward, twin lances of lightning chakra surging toward them, crackling with lethal intent.
Before the attack could land, Naruto appeared in front of Tsunade with a speed that would have caught most off guard. He clapped his hands together, and the air howled in response. A powerful Wind Release technique erupted outward, shredding through the lightning and reducing it to nothing. The same storm of invisible wind blades surged toward Kakuzu.
His skin darkened in an instant—Earth Release Armor. The blades tore through his cloak, but his flesh remained untouched.
Tsunade, however, didn't give him time to recover. She flowed around Naruto with effortless grace, her speed quadrupled as she surged forward like a predator catching the scent of blood.
Kakuzu barely had time to raise his arm before her punch connected. But resistance was meaningless. Her fist shattered his hardened defenses, ripping his arm clean off.
A second attacker lunged at her from behind Kakuzu's staggering form, attempting to stop her before she could press her advantage.
Tsunade didn't even acknowledge him.
Flames roared to life, consuming the would-be assailant midair before he could touch her. Orochimaru stood lazily behind the fire, his lips curling in amusement.
Jiraiya almost felt his throat tighten. It had been a long time since he had seen teamwork like this—since they had fought like this. This was the power of the Legendary Sannin.
He played his part, forming a single seal. The ground beneath Kakuzu's feet twisted, stone hardening around his legs like iron shackles. As the bounty hunter struggled to move, Tsunade took her time winding back for another blow.
She didn't hold back.
Her fist tore through his midsection, turning muscle and organs into shredded ruin.
She exhaled sharply, watching the body slump. "So this is the Akatsuki? Nothing impressive at all," she scoffed, turning her back on the corpse.
And that was her mistake.
She was rusty.
The Tsunade of old would have never turned her back on a fallen enemy, not even a corpse. Shinobi had a habit of faking death.
The charred body Orochimaru had incinerated twitched. A smile, wide and crazed, split through the blackened flesh. Kakuzu's partner—Hidan.
Still very much alive.
With a flick of his wrist, his scythe rose into the air, poised to carve into the unaware Tsunade.
Jiraiya moved without thinking.
His fingers wove a seal he hadn't used in over a decade—his personal substitution technique. In an instant, he and Tsunade switched places.
The scythe missed its mark, slicing through empty air. Jiraiya ducked beneath the next swing, his movements fluid as he rose with the fury of a storm god.
A massive, grinding sphere of chakra whirled into existence in his right hand.
"Ōdama Rasengan!"
Unlike Naruto's preferred version, designed to blast enemies away, Jiraiya's was a meat grinder. A technique that had put Minato's name on the map even before the Flying Thunder God had been perfected.
The Rasengan tore into Hidan with brutal efficiency. His body crumpled under the sheer force—his head popping off with a sickening crack.
Jiraiya exhaled, allowing the jutsu to dissipate.
That was his mistake.
For the first time in the fight, he had let his guard down. In focusing on the enemy in front of him, he had forgotten the one behind.
*SQUELCH*
A cold pressure gripped his chest.
Jiraiya froze. A hand was inside him.
"You three… you're terrifying," Kakuzu muttered from behind him, his voice eerily calm. "Especially the woman. She took four of my hearts with one punch. If I hadn't sent my Earth heart underground the moment I was trapped, I'd be dead."
Jiraiya could barely turn his head, the motion making the grip around his heart tighten.
So that was it. Multiple hearts. One for each element. That was the secret to his immortality.
Kakuzu's fingers curled slightly. The pressure increased. Jiraiya clenched his jaw, bracing for the inevitable. Maybe the man wanted to use him as a bargaining chip. He'd never get the chance.
A sword blade burst through Kakuzu's chest, skewering him clean through.
Jiraiya recognized the weapon instantly—Kusanagi.
Orochimaru twisted the hilt, a quiet tsk leaving his lips. "How careless of you," he mused, gripping Kakuzu's wrist before he could fully crush Jiraiya's heart.
Tsunade was already at Jiraiya's side, hands glowing with medical chakra.
"We've gotten rusty," Jiraiya muttered, his voice weak.
"Stop talking, you fool," Tsunade snapped, working quickly to extract the invading hand from his chest.
Jiraiya chuckled weakly. "Tell Naruto… I've always been proud of him."
"Shut up, idiot. You're not dying," Orochimaru said dryly.
Jiraiya blinked. "I'm not?"
Tsunade huffed, sealing the last of the wound. "The bastard didn't do anything I can't fix. A few minutes, and you'll be fine."
Jiraiya wasn't convinced.
If it was taking minutes for Tsunade to heal him, then Kakuzu had done far more damage than she was admitting.
Still, he let himself smile.
"Good to know," he murmured.
Of course he was still alive. He has some unfinished business with Danzo Afterall.
XXXX – GAARA OF THE DESERT POV
Gaara smiled as he stirred back to consciousness.
A nap. That was exactly what he had needed.
Not that he wasn't irritated by the fact that the Four-Tails had given him this much trouble. That was water under the bridge now. He had a new idea.
As Han's body was sent hurtling through a building by one of the Yonbi's massive tails, Gaara finished formulating his plan. It had all started with a simple, absurd thought as he fell into unconsciousness.
"How is that so loud?"
That single question had led his mind down an unexpected path—sound.
Sound was just vibrations traveling through a medium. In this case, air. The interesting part? Sound changed when passing through different mediums—like how Dosu's technique worked. The sound waves were harmless in the air, but the moment they entered an opponent's ear, they wreaked havoc on the inner workings of the body.
That simple fact had given him an idea.
Could he use Wind Release to amplify sound? To alter its frequency?
Could he weaponize something as simple as the snap of his fingers?
The battlefield was as good a place as any to test it.
First—precautions. Gaara lifted his hands to his ears and used a simple medical jutsu to deactivate his auditory nerves. He snapped his fingers. Nothing.
Good.
Now for the next step. He clapped his hands together, then focused, trying to feel the sound as it moved through the air. A subtle ripple. He clapped again, refining his focus. There. He could sense the vibrations shifting through the wind. He wasn't feeling the sound itself—he was feeling how it moved.
That was progress.
Now, he had to manipulate it.
"First, make it travel faster," he thought.
He clapped again, and as the vibrations left his fingers, he pushed them forward, speeding them through the air. Success. But that was only step one.
Gaara wanted payback. That damn beast had been roaring this entire fight, shaking the very air itself.
He clapped again, directing the vibrations where he wanted. He was close.
But frequency manipulation was another problem entirely. He knew that higher-pitched sounds, past a certain threshold, became imperceptible to humans while being intolerable for certain animals.
Monkeys had similar hearing ranges to humans. That meant…
He clapped.
Nothing.
Again.
Still nothing.
The technique resisted his attempts at altering the frequency, remaining just as it was. Damn. It was different from manipulating air currents. It wasn't actively fighting him—it just wasn't changing.
Perhaps…
He shifted his approach, trying instead to use the air itself to stretch and expand the sound wave.
Slight progress. But minimal.
He was about to try again when something in his peripheral vision made him freeze.
A fucking tsunami.
And not a small one.
The towering wall of water made Mei's previous feats look like a child's game.
Gaara restored his hearing just as a deep, sinister cackling reached his ears. He traced it to the crest of the tsunami.
Even from this distance, he could see the black cloak with red clouds.
Akatsuki.
Kisame Hoshigaki.
Where Kisame went, Itachi would follow.
Fighting the Tailless Tailed Beast and the Clankiller at the same time? Absolutely not. Not in his current state.
Gaara made the only logical choice. He turned on his heel, summoning a platform of sand beneath his feet and soaring into the sky. Before leaving, he created a clone, leaving it behind to observe the battle. If he couldn't stay for the show, he could at least enjoy it later.
As he rose above the clouds, he summoned more sand to widen his platform before biting his finger and weaving seals.
"Kuchiyose no Jutsu."
A large puff of smoke signaled the arrival of the Sand ninja who had accompanied him on this mission.
Not all of them, though. Gaara frowned, noticing two backpacks without their owners attached.
"Report," he ordered sharply.
XXXX – CLONE GAARA (BECAUSE I KNOW YOU WANT TO SEE ITACHI AND KISAME GET IT DONE)
The battlefield shifted.
It was like night and day—the difference before and after their arrival.
Kisame rode in on a monstrous tsunami, a tide of destruction that swallowed streets and drowned buildings. Lava that had once carved through Iwa's landscape sizzled and faded as the water consumed it.
The Four-Tails bellowed, its sheer body heat working to evaporate the wave. But it wasn't enough.
The beast was forced under.
Gaara almost choked at the sight.
The Yonbi was engaged in a physical battle—and it was losing.
The moment Kisame submerged it, the tsunami's shape shifted. The water that had crashed down rose again, sealing the battlefield in a colossal dome of liquid. A third of Iwa was now underwater.
The Yonbi roared.
It swallowed water instead.
Kisame moved through the depths, his body more shark than man, cutting through the water with unnatural grace. The Four-Tails flailed, struggling to break free. It never got the chance.
Kisame latched on—and he began to feed.
Gaara knew the fight was over.
His attention shifted to the other battlefield.
Han had recognized Itachi the second the Uchiha appeared. That much was obvious. His entire fighting style changed. He abandoned wide-ranged attacks in favor of something more controlled, more deliberate.
It didn't matter.
When he and Itachi clashed, Gaara saw it immediately.
It wasn't even close.
Even with the raw power of a Tailed Beast coursing through him—strength and speed beyond reason—Han could not touch Itachi.
The Uchiha moved like liquid shadow, each attack foreseen, each motion perfect. Han struck—Itachi was already gone. Han kicked—it missed by a hair's breadth. Every attack was accounted for before it was even made.
Han knew it too.
Desperate, he changed tactics, closing the distance in a burst of speed, aiming to overwhelm Itachi before he could react.
He failed.
The Uchiha sidestepped the attack with such fluidity that it was almost insulting, as if Han had been moving in slow motion.
Gaara watched in silence.
They had been wrong.
All those who had compared his own talents to Uchiha Itachi's had never seen the man fight.
This wasn't just skill. It was mastery.
Then, Itachi shifted.
The moment was so subtle that anyone not paying attention would have missed it.
He moved back.
His hands came together—seals blurred into motion. Too fast to track.
Gaara knew the technique before it even formed.
A massive fireball roared to life, consuming everything in its path.
Han spun his tails around himself, weathering the flames with minimal damage. He had no time to celebrate.
Itachi was already there.
A flicker of motion. A single second.
Han made the fatal mistake of looking at him.
The second their eyes met, it was over.
Han's body froze.
Still.
Silent.
Gaara exhaled.
Itachi blinked, glancing toward him as if he had known he was being watched.
The clone grinned and gave a cheeky wave—before vanishing in a puff of smoke.
After watching Itachi Fight, Gaara had a pretty good idea of what to do with Kakashi's Sharigan that he has in his possession.
(End of Chapter)
Tested out a new Style for this Chapter. Better or Worse?
Stat Sheet;
Name; Gaara of the Desert
Age; Twelve
Level; 16
Title; Kazekage of Sunagakure
Chakra Capacity; 6.650/7,000 (Regeneration; 250 cp per minute)
Ichibi Chakra Capacity; 45,000/45,000 (Regeneration; 750 cp per minute)
Strength; 37
Speed; 73
Agility; 81
Endurance; 75
Intelligence; 90
Durability; 36
Perception; 89
Charisma; 69
Stat Points; 0
Skills;
Gamer's Mind Mark Two-ON
Taijutsu; 74
Kenjutsu; 63
Ninjutsu; 88
Genjutsu; 2
Fuinjutsu; 88
Medical Ninjutsu; 83
Wet Tinkering; 59
Sand Control; 81
Pain tolerance; 31
Meditation; 3
Shape manipulation; 72
Chakra Sensing; 21
Chakra affinities;
Wind; 69
Earth; 55
Fire; 57