Hokage: Reborn as Hokage, Starting with Saving Jiraiya

Rain lashed the jagged skyline of Amegakure, its steel towers piercing the storm like silent sentinels. Naruto materialized in a flash of chakra, the Flying Thunder God depositing him onto the muddy ground where he'd once saved Jiraiya. The downpour soaked his orange jacket instantly, cold rivulets streaming down his face as he clutched a sealed scroll—Danzo's severed arm, its Sharingan bounty a heavy prize. His breath misted in the chill, determination etched into his features as he strode deeper into the village, the weight of his defection from Konoha a shadow at his heels.

Inside a hidden chamber, Nagato's frail form jolted, his Rinnegan eyes snapping open. The rhythmic patter of rain against the walls faltered in his senses, disrupted by an intruder. Konan, ever vigilant at his side, tilted her head, her amber eyes narrowing. "What is it?"

"Someone's here," Nagato rasped, his voice a hollow echo. "Their chakra—it's strong, too close. It blocked my rain." He paused, parsing the energy. "Not Jiraiya's—I know his signature. This is different."

Konan frowned, suspicion sharpening her tone. "Could he have returned?"

Nagato shook his head, his red hair clinging to his gaunt face. "No. It's someone else. Konan—same as before."

She nodded, understanding implicit in her silence. Nagato channeled chakra, his will surging into Tendo Pain outside. The puppet's form stirred atop a towering spire, its cloak billowing as it formed seals. "Rain Tiger Freedom Technique—release," Pain intoned, and the storm stilled, the village falling eerily quiet.

Konan's body dissolved into a cascade of paper, folding into countless butterflies that fluttered from the platform, scattering into the mist to hunt the intruder.

Naruto glanced skyward as the rain ceased, a wry smile tugging at his lips. They've sensed me. He quickened his pace, leaping onto a rusted rooftop and slipping into the shadow of a derelict water tower. His hands flashed through seals, three shadow clones bursting into existence beside him. "Spread out—buy me time," he ordered, then sank into a crouch, focusing chakra into his core. The journey from Konoha had drained him—Flying Thunder God's speed came at a cost over such distance, sapping his Sage Mode reserves. He needed to recharge, and fast.

Nagato's rain had caught only his base chakra, missing the Sage signature from their last encounter. Back then, the Rain Tiger technique had been dormant, leaving Naruto's presence untracked. Now, he'd slipped under their radar—until this moment.

Inside a maze of rusted pipes and dripping corridors, Naruto settled against a wall, the damp air heavy with the tang of iron. His clones dispersed into the village, drawing eyes away as he gathered natural energy. Within minutes, the familiar rush surged through him—orange shadows bloomed around his eyes, Sage Mode igniting his senses. The world sharpened; he felt every rustle, every pulse of chakra in the distance. And then—a paper butterfly, delicate and deliberate, fluttered into view.

Naruto's grin returned. He stepped forward, catching the origami in his palm. "No need to search, Senior Sister. It's me."

The air shimmered as paper swarmed around him, coalescing into Konan's form—her Akatsuki cloak stark against her pale, expressionless face. "Konoha's Nine Tails Jinchuriki—Naruto?" Her voice was cold, clinical.

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Senior Sister, that's a bit formal, don't you think?"

"Akatsuki records name you as such," she replied, unflinching. "Why are you here?"

Naruto's smile faded, his tone softening with purpose. "I'm here to see Senior Brother Nagato—keep a promise. Last time I left, I said I'd come back when I could."

Konan's eyes narrowed, and behind her, paper wings unfurled, lifting her into the air. "There's no 'Nagato' here. You've trespassed in God's domain—an offense punishable by death." Her wings snapped forward, unleashing a torrent of paper shuriken like twin gatling guns, slicing through the air toward him.

Sage Mode's reflexes kicked in—Naruto darted aside, the barrage shredding the wall behind him. But Konan pressed the attack, her wings pivoting like turrets, chasing him with relentless precision. He sprinted along the pipes, leaping and weaving as paper tore through metal and stone. "This all you've got?" he called, voice steady despite the chaos.

"I don't enjoy hitting women," he added, planting a kunai into the ground. With a flick, he hurled another toward her, the blade whistling past her shoulder. A buzz of chakra, and he teleported to it mid-air, catching it in a fluid spin. "Sage Art: Giant Rasengan!" he roared, the swirling orb of wind and chakra surging toward her face.

Konan's paper storm intensified, but the Rasengan's rotation shredded her barrage into confetti, its force barreling closer. Her origami form wavered—another hit, and she'd be pulp. A figure in a red-clouded cloak materialized behind her, hand outstretched. "Shinra Tensei!" Tendo Pain's voice boomed, a wave of repulsion slamming into the Rasengan, sending it spiraling skyward.

Naruto flipped back, teleporting to his grounded kunai to evade the rebound. He landed in a crouch, breathing hard, as Pain floated forward, his Rinnegan eyes glinting with cold authority. Konan glanced at him, her voice low. "I'm sorry—he's stronger than me."

Pain nodded. "Go. I'll handle this." She dissolved into paper once more, drifting away, leaving the battlefield to the two.

Naruto straightened, eyeing Pain with a mix of awe and resolve. Those eyes—the Rinnegan—granted flight, power beyond mortal reach. In his past life, only the Six Paths' gift had lifted him skyward. Gaara's sand, Ohnoki's weight manipulation—they were crutches he'd never favored. But the Rinnegan? That was real, tangible, a prize worth chasing.

He met Pain's gaze, a grin breaking through his exhaustion. "Hey, Brother—good to see you. Let's talk."

Pain hovered, unyielding. "You invade my village, challenge my rule. Speak, or die."

Naruto's grin faded, his voice steadying with intent. "I'm looking for someone—Nagato. I need him, his strength. There's a fight coming, bigger than you know. I'm here to ask for it."

Pain's eyes narrowed, the air between them crackling with unspoken history—Jiraiya's legacy, a shared past twisted by diverging paths. Naruto's hand tightened on the scroll at his side, Danzo's Sharingan a silent testament to his resolve. This was no whim; it was a step toward a war he'd already lost once, a chance to rewrite it.

Rain began to fall again, softer now, as if the village held its breath. Naruto stood firm, the Sage Mode glow flickering in his eyes, waiting for Pain's answer. Konan watched from a distance, her paper form hidden in the mist, while Nagato's frail body tensed miles away, sensing the Jinchuriki's intent. The confrontation teetered on a knife's edge—alliance or annihilation, a choice that would shape the storm to come.

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