Tokens of the Three

Jiraiya stood next to Tsunade, one arm over her shoulders to keep upright. His left leg was in a brace, broken from when he slammed into a wall – courtesy of one of the Paths' punches.

On the ground in front of them was a rock, unmarked, standing alone.

"Where did I go wrong?" he whispered quietly. "Where did I fail him? He was my student, my responsibility…he was going to save the world."

"You did the best you could. You trained him to be a shinobi, you taught him what you believed," Tsunade responded, rubbing a comforting hand down Jiraiya's back.

"But I left him there in Ame; him, Konan, and Yahiko. Now all of them are dead. I should have brought them back with me…I could have protected them here…"

Tsunade sighed. "You told me yourself when you came back they refused to leave their country, they wanted to liberate it. They were adults, Jiraiya. They made their choices."

He didn't meet her eyes, choosing instead to look around the clearing they had placed the grave in; far away from Konoha and any who might stumble upon it.

With another sigh his teammate began walking towards a tree, forcing Jiraiya to move as well, or risk falling. Wordlessly she shrugged out from under his arm, making sure he was braced well before turning to leave.

"When you decide…come back."

Jiraiya nodded, bringing his eyes back to the rock in the middle of the clearing, marking where they had buried his long ago student. The one he had identified most with, who was going to do great things…who he thought had died nearly a decade ago.

Jiraiya stood next to his two teammates, looking at the three orphans in front of them.. They were small and pitiful, all three very thin and wearing rain gear, complete with gas masks.

"We should kill them, and put them out of their misery," Orochimaru stated, drawing a kunai in preparation. Even Tsunade looked troubled, agreeing with him.

"No, I'll stay behind and look after them," Jiraiya interrupted firmly. There was something in those three he recognized, a will to live despite deplorable conditions.

"Very well."

Nagato sat on the roof of their home, soaked through by the persistent rain. Konan and Yahiko were below, both sleeping after a hard day of training.

Jiraiya climbed up next to Nagato, sitting quietly with his student. "What's wrong?"

The boy didn't answer, burying his head on his knees instead. A couple tears trickled down his cheeks.

"Is this because of earlier?"

"I lost control." His voice was muffled. "When Yahiko got hurt…I don't remember what happened. But when I could see…the enemy was on the ground, and he was dead. I did that…all I wanted to do was protect Yahiko. But I didn't want to kill him."

Jiraiya sighed and sat back. "I can't tell you if what you did was right or wrong. But you protected your friend, and that's all that matters. Killing someone will lead to hate, yours or theirs. And hatred leads to pain. But it's knowing pain that makes us able to feel kindness."

"How do I do that?"

"You grow up."

Jiraiya stood stock still, reading the missive again and again. 'Ame rebellion leaders Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato are reported dead.' The Child of Prophecy is dead.

Should I have killed him back then? he wondered. Should I have let Orochimaru kill them all? None of this would have happened then. But…fragments of memory, of their three smiling faces, flashed behind his eyes. I don't know how the future could have turned out. It is what it is.

Jiraiya hobbled forward, barely touching his left leg to the ground. When he got to the rock, he reached inside his tunic, fishing for the item Tsunade had given him; something she had recovered.

The Sannin placed it gently on the rock, along with one of the broken metal bars that had injured Tsunade.

"Goodbye, Nagato." Without looking back, he turned and limped away.

On the rock behind him, Konan's paper flower blew in the light breeze, marking the last tribute to his three students from Ame.