Naruto: North and South

The Rinne Rebirth was, by nature, a forbidden jutsu—an ability meant to defy the natural order. It was a technique Madara Uchiha had prepared for himself.

But now was not the time to speak of Madara—it was the technique itself. No one can truly return from death. Whether through Rinne Rebirth or Edo Tensei, both are acts against nature. Perhaps Orochimaru’s improvements to Edo Tensei reduced its side effects, or maybe it was because those resurrected were not truly alive that Edo Tensei did not drain the user as severely.

But Rinne Rebirth was different.

Nagato had indeed mastered the technique, but the toll it exacted was far beyond what he could endure. Death itself was unlikely—but the weakness it left would linger for a long time.

This was why he refused. And it was also why he would never lend even a single eye to Obito. Even someone with Nagato’s naturally powerful Uzumaki body would suffer great loss; someone as physically compromised as Obito might not survive the procedure.

For Kakashi Hatake? From Nagato’s perspective, it was not worth it.

Thus, whether it was resurrecting Kakashi or lending Obito the eye, Nagato’s answer remained the same: no.

Moreover, the dead were gone, and the living remained. Obsessing over what could not be changed offered no benefit. Yet, reflecting further, he thought… just as Obito had been relentless when his goddess disappeared, now that a male god had perished, Obito…

I knew you’d hide here, a voice said.

The hall was empty and solemn, ominously cold. White marble dominated the space, from floor to elevated platform. Paper flowers were scattered everywhere, clinging to the pillars and the high dais, giving the place a bone-chilling frost.

Nagato sat on the stone steps, knees hugged to his chest, clad in his Akatsuki robe. Despite the years, he still looked like the boy he had once been.

Konan approached slowly, also taking a seat on the steps.

“You should go out. It’s cold. I’ll step out shortly.”

It was indeed freezing. Even with the Akatsuki uniforms designed to keep them warm and dry, Konan’s exposed fingers quickly turned pale and blue. When she spoke, her breath formed clouds in the air.

Why is it so cold? Because on the elevated platform lay a boy’s face—orange hair, no chakra receiver, no ring on his finger.

The ring was in Nagato’s hand.

“I’m not fragile,” Konan said, hugging her knees.

“Where’s Obito?”

“Still outside,” she replied.

After Obito’s unreasonable request the previous day, Nagato had refused, leading to a clash. Emotionally charged, Obito was no match for Nagato. He had been subdued in a few moves, his chakra sealed. Obito—after losing the goddess—had been capable of destroying worlds. But without the male god… what could he do now?

Nagato couldn’t predict. Stripped of power, Obito dropped his pride and dignity, kneeling stubbornly before Nagato. It wasn’t like Obito—but it was him.

Nagato could not bear the display, nor the kneeling. He simply avoided it.

“You didn’t agree… I’m glad,” Konan said after a long silence.

It wasn’t a matter of skill or convenience. Rinne Rebirth meant death or grievous injury. Even if the jutsu succeeded, it would consume Nagato’s life. A forbidden technique had its cost.

As for lending the eye to Obito… if Nagato decided against it, he would not allow anyone else to attempt it either.

“Kakashi is not worth Obito risking his life,” Nagato said simply.

To him, Kakashi was just a man slightly connected to Obito, loyal to Konoha, a future candidate for Hokage. If he became Hokage, he would be their enemy. Risking one’s life to save such a man was not worth it.

Moreover, Kakashi held nothing Nagato respected. Years ago, when Konan was imprisoned, Kakashi had interfered. That account had not yet been settled. And the copied-ninja Kakashi—was irritating in name alone, half-empty in substance. Why should Nagato risk most of his chakra to save someone he did not value?

As for Obito—he was blind now, lost in obsession. When he came to see clearly, the issue would resolve itself.

“It’s good if you can see it that way,” Konan said, turning to Nagato.

“Ten Kakashis are not worth one person’s safety, Nagato. Obito caused Yahiko’s death. Now he has lost his love. That is the karmic consequence. Those who do wrong must face it; no one can pay another’s price. In my view, no one is more important than you, not even Konan.”

Konan’s fiery exterior concealed a heart as cold as stone. Whether Yahiko lived or died, she could act mercilessly when needed.

And now, ignoring Kakashi was her iron-hearted justice.

“Hmm,” Nagato murmured, lowering his gaze and resting his chin on his knees.

“Obito killed Yahiko. I will not save him,” he said, as if convincing himself. “The dead are dead. The living must accept it to grow through suffering. Obito is no child; he must understand that only by losing can one learn to cherish. Losing Kakashi will teach him that the world is not empty. I will not save him, nor let him try. He is my subordinate; he must serve Akatsuki. I will not let him waste his life. Kakashi… he is an outsider. I am not close to him. He harmed Konan. He is Konoha’s. My enemy. Why should I save him?”

His voice was low but clear.

Konan watched him silently, then sighed.

“As long as you understand. Delay Konoha’s matters for a few days.”

“Mm. I told them. Go now; it’s too cold for you.”

“Good. You should come out soon too.”

Those who had arrived left, closing the door behind them. Nagato rose from the stone steps, numb from the cold. Without chakra, he might have frozen solid. He stood before the long-dead friend, staring silently.

“Yahiko… will you hate me?”

Silence.

After a long while, Nagato turned to leave. As he stepped forward, whether it was staggering or a subtle push from behind, it was merely coincidence. A coincidence that led him out, away from the icy cold.

Nagato looked back, smiling.

Thank you… Yahiko…