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[NTU] [ARC-23] Chapter : 314
🕑 Added 2025-05-14 17:05:47 +0000 UTCLand of Earth – Iwagakure.
“Father, this is the prisoner exchange list sent by the Hokage.”
The tall and stoic Kitsuchi entered his father’s office, scroll in hand. But he wasn’t alone—trailing behind was a much smaller figure.
“Grandpa!”
A small, cheerful voice piped up as a child peeked out from behind Kitsuchi, beaming at Onoki, who sat behind his desk.
Since returning to the village, Onoki had been buried in negotiations with village elders. The long talks had left him irritable and tired. But the moment he saw his granddaughter, his face softened into a warm smile.
Even his famously bulbous red nose seemed to droop with relief.
“Put the scroll down,” he said gently, not even scolding her for leafing through the documents on his desk. He turned to Kitsuchi with a calm nod and shifted his attention back to his granddaughter.
“Father, the Hokage seems to be acting in good faith this time. I really think you should review the list,” Kitsuchi said firmly, undeterred by his father’s initial disinterest.
“Sincerity, huh?” Onoki muttered.
Small in stature—barely taller than his granddaughter—he nevertheless carried the presence of a man who had seen decades of war and diplomacy. Curious, he unfurled the scroll.
The first name that jumped out at him stopped him in his tracks.
“Deidara… That idiot!” he cursed under his breath.
He didn’t bother reading further. The name alone was enough to set his mind spinning.
“Deidara-nii?”
Kurotsuchi perked up at the mention. Her eyes lit with curiosity as she stepped closer.
“Is there news about him?”
Deidara had been one of her few childhood playmates—eccentric, more interested in shaping clay and sharing his love for explosives.
“Konoha caught him,” Onoki said bitterly. The thought of the village's secret techniques potentially being exposed clearly unsettled him.
“Did they say why?” Kitsuchi asked. “Surely they didn’t detain him without reason.”
Despite his gruff demeanor, Onoki considered Deidara a disciple of Iwagakure—his responsibility. If Konoha had acted without cause, he was prepared to push back.
Kitsuchi nodded. “According to Konoha, Deidara joined a group called Akatsuki. After the Five Kage Summit, he launched an attack on the Hokage and was captured.”
He handed over a sealed letter. “This is a handwritten report from the Hokage detailing the incident.”
Onoki skimmed through the contents quickly. Familiar names leapt off the page: Sasori… Orochimaru… Pakura.
His brows furrowed.
“It seems our cooperation with Akatsuki has come to an end.”
—
Land of Wind – Sunagakure.
At the same time, Rasa sat silently in his office, a letter from Toshiro clutched in his hand. Unlike Onoki’s calm reaction, his face was tight with anger.
He slammed his palm on the desk.
“Yashamaru. Go summon Elder Chiyo.”
Normally, Rasa would visit Chiyo himself out of respect. But this time, formality could wait.
“Tell her it’s urgent—she must come immediately.”
He glanced back down at the letter, his hands trembling.
Moments later, Chiyo, gray-haired and still sharp-eyed, entered with her usual candor.
“I’m retired, Rasa. What could be so important that you drag an old woman down here?”
Suppressing his irritation, Rasa handed her the letter.
“There’s news about Sasori.”
Though Chiyo had stepped away from leadership in recent years, her influence remained immense. Her reputation and legacy still commanded the utmost respect.
“Sasori…”
Hearing her grandson’s name again made her freeze. With trembling fingers, she unfolded the letter and began reading line by line.
“This can’t be…”
Her voice wavered.
According to the Hokage’s report, Sasori had joined the Akatsuki, attacked the village—and worse still, used a puppet capable of wielding Magnet Release…
A puppet reportedly made from the corpse of the Third Kazekage.
“No… absolutely not!”
Emotion surged in Chiyo’s chest. Her hands clenched the letter.
“This is a lie—Konoha’s propaganda! My grandson would never…”
The idea that Sasori had murdered the Third Kazekage was too painful, too impossible to accept. Surely this was a fabrication.
“True or not, we’ll know once we send a team to Konoha,” Rasa said evenly.
Chiyo’s reaction was expected—after all, it’s hard to see clearly when you’re personally involved. But as Kazekage, Rasa had to remain level-headed.
And when he considered the timeline—Sasori’s disappearance and the Kazekage’s vanishing overlapped too precisely.
That alone was damning.
Why else would Sasori have stayed away all these years?
And Pakura—she had aligned herself with the Hokage too?
Rasa’s hands tightened into fists.
This situation was spiraling fast.
—
Konoha Prison.
Clang!
The sound of an iron door creaking open echoed down the dim hallway.
Orochimaru lazily shifted his gaze toward the cell next to his. But the moment he saw who was being thrown in, his usually impassive eyes flickered with shock.
“Jiraiya, you fool... what the hell happened to you?”
If not for the signature white hair and the faint familiarity of his posture, Orochimaru wouldn’t have recognized the battered figure before him.
Jiraiya looked unrecognizable—bruised, bloodied, barely conscious.
Without intimate knowledge of the man, one would mistake him for a corpse.
“Is he even still alive?” Orochimaru muttered, narrowing his eyes and examining the wreck of his old comrade.
Jiraiya’s face was grotesquely swollen, resembling a beaten pig. His ribs were likely broken, and his chakra signature was faint—barely a flicker.
Only the subtle rise and fall of his chest hinted at life.
“Cough... cough!”
Finally, after what felt like ages, the slumped body stirred. Jiraiya hacked violently, blood dripping from his lips, and slowly opened his eyes to glance at Orochimaru.
“Well, didn’t think I’d end up sharing a cell with you,” he wheezed with a ghost of a grin.
Painfully, he reached for a small medical pouch that had been tossed in with him and began tending to his wounds.
“Hmph. Only the Hokage could mess you up like this, You’re as naïve as ever.” Orochimaru sneered, already piecing the situation together.
“Hiss...”
Jiraiya ignored the sarcasm, too focused on patching himself up to care. Every movement drew a sharp breath between clenched teeth.
“Tch. Toshiro really doesn’t hold back…”
Once bandaged, Jiraiya pulled out a bit of food from the pouch and popped it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, eyeing Orochimaru.
“Funny… Yesterday I was visiting you. Now I’m your cellmate. Life’s full of surprises.”
Despite his condition, he chuckled to himself.
Orochimaru snorted. “You brought this on yourself.”
He leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
“If I were the Hokage, I wouldn’t have gone so easy on you. A mere lesson and prison time? He must think too highly of you.”
The venom in his voice betrayed an odd mix of disdain and familiarity—a relic of their long, tangled history. To him, Jiraiya was still the same wide-eyed idealist, clinging to foolish convictions from a bygone era.
The Next Morning – Hokage’s Office
Toshiro had just wrapped up his morning training, energy renewed as he considered how best to handle Jiraiya’s situation.
He knew full well: killing a legend like Jiraiya was out of the question. But a lesson had to be taught—and some time behind bars would do the trick.
Bang! Bang!
Two sharp knocks preceded the door swinging open—no courtesy, no hesitation.
Tsunade stormed into the office, her fury barely restrained.
“Uchiha Toshiro—what did you do to Jiraiya?”
She slammed her hands onto the desk and leaned in, glaring. Her tone was sharp, demanding an answer.
Toshiro remained calm, eyes cool and voice steady.
“A ninja who helps an assassin escape—especially one who attempted to kill the Hokage—should be punished.”
He paused deliberately.
“As a Konoha shinobi, Jiraiya not only let the criminal go, but actively blocked the Anbu during a direct pursuit authorized by the Hokage. I merely gave him a warning and imprisoned him. Frankly, I was lenient.”
“You—!”
Tsunade's voice faltered. Her jaw clenched as her chest rose and fell with frustration.
She’d only just learned of Jiraiya’s imprisonment and was still piecing together the story.
“He must have acted on impulse—”
“Impulse?” Toshiro cut her off coldly.
“I’d say it was confidence. Misplaced, arrogant confidence.”
He stood, his presence heavy.
“Tell me, Tsunade—what kind of shinobi raises arms against his own Hokage to protect someone who tried to assassinate him? What kind of loyalty is that?”
His words were sharp, each one deliberate.
“I may respect Jiraiya’s past… but in this village, no one—no one—is above the law.”
And the truth was, Toshiro had already shown restraint. A less forgiving leader might have executed Jiraiya on the spot.
