Borderlands of Kirigakure.
A dim cave.
The massive Gedo Statue stood inside the cavern like a mountain—immovable, solemn. Several projection-like silhouettes hovered, perched on the statue's outstretched finger.
Deidara's projection sat cross-legged on the fingertip, tongue flicking across his palm in irritation. "Boss, could you stop calling me? I'm in the middle of creating a supreme work of art, you know!"
"Listen first. If the boss called us, it's probably for a new mission," the projection of Sasori—splayed like a centipede—said in a dry, creaking voice, the puppet's tail clicking softly.
Before Deidara could reply, Hidan's projection barked loud and insolent. "Art? Worshipping that useless crap is blasphemy against the Divine One!"
"You fool!" Deidara bristled, eyes flashing. "Art is beauty that vanishes the instant it's complete—how could someone like you possibly grasp its greatness?"
Hidan pointed his wicked scythe and sneered, "Who cares? Only the Divine One deserves worship!"
Deidara's hand dove into his pouch, teeth barred. "Hidan—if you open your mouth again, I'll decide how you die!"
Across the circle, Kakuzu's projection spoke in a low, matter-of-fact tone. "Gods and art aside, the only thing worth trusting is money."
No one else interrupted. Even Itachi watched coldly from a corner, while Kisame observed with that shark-like patience of his. Atop the Gedo Statue, Pain peered down with the Rinnegan, expression flat.
"Hyūga Ayato," Pain said.
The name landed like a chill. Murmurs rippled.
"He's taking control of the Nine-Tails jinchūriki," Pain continued. "His interference is a problem for Akatsuki."
Pain's assessment was measured. He'd seen whatever rumor had warranted this meeting: Ayato's unusual eyes—blue, uncanny, almost Rinnegan-like. Ayato was strong, but Pain stated the obvious: whatever his power, it was beneath the Rinnegan.
"Hyūga Ayato?" Hidan's projection smirked. "Who is he? If he's strong, present him to the Divine One!"
Deidara shrugged, dismissive. "I've heard of that brat. People call him a disaster-ninja. I'll deal with him with my art when I meet him."
Kakuzu frowned thoughtfully. He'd also heard whispers—Ayato had become valuable; apparently, a head could fetch a small fortune. Plenty of reasons to get involved. But in the end, all the Akatsuki members were S-class rogue ninja; none of them cared to be frightened by a village rumor.
Pain's voice remained level. "Hyūga Ayato is strong and possesses strange ocular power. But his strength is still below mine."
Itachi, cool and composed, opened his Sharingan briefly—three crimson tomoe—and regarded Pain's Rinnegan. The legends of the Sage's eyes were real; such power overshadowed human braggadocio. No matter how unusual Ayato's eyes were, Rinnegan-level sight was a different order.
From Pain's tone, Itachi inferred the likelihood: Akatsuki might try to capture the Nine-Tails earlier than planned—and Hyūga Ayato could stand in their way. If so, they would need to remove him before sweeping up the jinchūriki.
Deidara, eyeing Pain's Rinnegan, huffed resentfully. "Having those legendary eyes is so unfair, huh?" he complained. He'd never been one to regard such things as anything but an affront to his art.
Everyone glanced at Pain's Rinnegan. The mood was clear: even if Ayato was powerful, he was no match for the Rinnegan's godlike abilities. Akatsuki had no shortage of formidable members; none of them were overly concerned—except that the plan might be compromised.
Pain continued, flat: "We'll move the capture plan earlier. If Hyūga Ayato insists on standing against us, eliminate him at the same time. Once we secure a jinchūriki, I'll activate the Gedo Statue."
"In the name of the Divine One, hunt the tailed beasts," the assembled Akatsuki murmured in agreement.
At that moment the Gedo Statue beneath them trembled, then billowed into a curl of white smoke and vanished.
"What—?" A stunned silence fell over the cave. The huge statue had just disappeared into thin air. Pain tried to re-summon it, slamming his palms against the ground as the Rinnegan flared, but nothing formed.
His link to the Gedo Statue was cut.
Confusion rippled across Pain's features, then ice: he pictured the masked man—the one who called himself Uchiha Madara. Had that masked figure used some method to steal the statue? But the masked man did not possess the Rinnegan. How could he control the Gedo Statue?
Paper fluttered; a figure took shape out of the drifting scraps—tall, graceful, the silhouette of the masked man. Konan's face, steady and composed, watched the empty cavern and the new arrival.
"It's him," Pain said softly. "Only I and he knew how to summon the Gedo Statue."
Whether or not the masked man truly was Madara, his methods were mysterious—and dangerous. Konan worried this theft would upset Akatsuki's plans—if the statue had gone to the masked man, what was he planning?
Pain decided swiftly. "I'll handle the matter. Konan—monitor Hyūga Ayato."
He would find the masked man and force answers. The Gedo Statue was the vessel for capturing tailed beasts; they could not let it slip away.
Konan nodded. The mission was set.
—Four days later—
Blue skies, scorching sun. Konohagakure.
A pastry shop.
"Sir, could you stop sampling?" a shop attendant asked politely, but with strain. Ayato sat with one leg casually crossed, sampling dessert after dessert as if deciding which to buy. The staff were bewildered—most customers taste once, then choose. This man had been sampling for an hour and hadn't purchased a thing.
"Don't bother me. I'm deciding," Ayato murmured around a mouthful of cream. "If you stop me, I'll go to the Third and complain."
The attendant gave a forced smile and returned to the counter, inwardly wishing she could shove him out. Still—Ayato was Ayato. He was a known figure; the staff could hardly throw him out.
He flicked frosting on his fork and leered playfully at the attendant. "You, for example—how about I take you as tonight's dessert?"
The clerk flushed and tensed. "No need." She forced a smile and recovered. "I could never be worthy of you, Mr. Ayato."
Ayato rolled his eyes. "Joke. Bring me one more plate of cookies."
She hesitated, then went to comply, mumbling about asking the Third for payment later. Ayato waved his hand: "Charge it to the Third."
The attendant left both irritated and helpless.
A bright chime sounded.
[Ding—]
[Side Quest completed: Team 7 has learned Summoning Jutsu.]
[Reward Gacha available. Open now?]
Ayato smirked. "Four days. Those brats were industrious." He tapped the prompt. "Open it."
[Opening gacha… Randomizing across worlds… Congratulations! You received: Mastery of Sealing Techniques; Mastery of Wind Release; Mastery of Lightning Release; +200 years of lifespan.]
Ayato frowned. "Trash." He'd hoped for something flashy—an item, an eye, a Zanpakutō—anything to make him stand out. He'd already mastered several elements; these rewards felt mundane. Still, two hundred extra years of life wasn't nothing. Between previous longevity boosts, he might be effectively immortal. He glanced at the prize list and shrugged. Random luck.
The system's pleasant female voice piped in soothingly: [Side quests are randomized. Your Master–Disciple system's rewards are tied to your fate. One day you will get what you want.]
"Shut up," Ayato muttered.
"Kurenai?" a melodic voice called.
"Yo, Kurenai," Ayato replied, and looked up. The woman who took the seat beside him was elegant and composed—Kurenai in a red-and-white dress, hair loosely falling over her shoulders, an aura of graceful strength.
"Mei Terumī has arrived at the main gate," she said. "You're still eating? Go see her—she's said to be very beautiful."
Ayato chuckled around a bite of cake. "Even if Mei came with reinforcements, I'd still have this cake."
Kurenai's face softened. Everyone was busy preparing for the Chūnin Exams and meeting the Fifth Mizukage. She'd been running around all day; Ayato lounged, carefree.
Ayato teased her, voice oily with mischief. "Relax tonight—I'll make things easier for you. The start might sting a bit, but afterwards it'll be pleasant."
Kurenai's smile froze, then she tipped her teacup—pretending to be clumsy. Tea sloshed toward him.
Ayato vanished in a blink; the cup drenched the chair. "Where'd he go?" she blinked.
"Sorry—slip of the hand," Ayato reappeared behind Kurenai and delivered a sharp pat to her—firm, playful—on the behind.
The crisp sound echoed. For a heartbeat, Kurenai's composure cracked; then she turned, cheeks heated, and swatted him back in irritation.
Ayato just grinned, tasting the sweetness of both pastry and provocation.
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