#something about how it's preceded by naruto calling out for nagato

[panharmonium]

something about how yamato’s immediate and instinctive first reaction is to call out for itachi when all twelve of these coffins (including the ones containing asuma and hayate) open up at exactly the same time is really hitting me in a certain way right now

[jouissezduprintemps]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jiraiya/Tsunade (Naruto) Characters: Jiraiya (Naruto), Tsunade (Naruto), Orochimaru (Naruto) Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Character Death, young sannin, Alcohol, A date that's not a date, Writer's Block Summary:

Jiraiya has recently returned from Ame, and he's scheduled a book deal with his publisher for his newly-titled Icha Icha series. A bout of writer's block has him stuck before a deadline, and he hopes that spending a night on the town will bring his creativity back. Tsunade does her best to help him write a better story, giving him a little more inspiration than she had planned.

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With a precise, deliberate move of his fingers, Orochimaru released a drop from the pipette onto a glass slide, which he slid underneath the microscope. He fiddled with the lenses to bring the sample into focus. “I’m busy,” he stated, looking away from the specimen long enough to scribble some notes in the book to his right. “I don’t have time.”

“Come on,” Jiraiya prompted. He held a jar in his hands, examining the human eye suspended in liquid. With a grimace, he set it back on the shelf, unsettled when he swore it looked at him. “You’ve been in here for days. Have you even eaten? You’ll die if you don’t eat.”

“That’s why I have Anko,” Orochimaru reminded his teammate. “Lab assistants do more than sanitize the workspace.” She hadn’t been working for him very long, but she showed significant promise. Regrettably, he had sent her home for the night without thinking to have her bring him dinner from a nearby restaurant. At least he had some food pills tucked away, somewhere.

“I need my wingman! It’s a Saturday night, I’m back, and we should celebrate.”

“I can’t stop in the middle of an experiment.” He knew he had told him this a hundred times before. “I can’t leave and come back to it later. The process will continue with or without me, and if I’m not here to record my findings, I’ll have to start from scratch.” He turned away from the microscope, sorting through various dyes he had organized on a nearby table. “Can’t you ask Tsunade?”

“What?” Jiraiya laughed. “You think she’d come out with me as my wingwoman? She’d scare any girls off! None of them would come near me if I was with her. Besides, she’d never agree to that.”

Orochimaru shook the bottle of blue dye between his fingers before carrying it back to his station. “You know as well as I do that she’d do just about anything if you pick up her bar tab.” He paused while he wrote something down. “I won’t be done here for at least another three hours. You’re welcome to stay, if you like, but you’ll have to be quiet, so I can focus.”

Jiraiya huffed exaggeratedly. Three hours wasn’t terrible. That would put them at midnight. They would still have a few hours to hit the town. Well, he might as well entertain himself. He walked to the far side of the room, where a large, cylindrical tank bubbled as oxygen enriched the water supply. It appeared empty, but he couldn’t be sure. He gave three sharp raps on the glass with the knuckle of his index finger.

“If you can’t keep yourself from touching the equipment, you need to leave,” Orochimaru hissed, eyes still focused through the lenses of the microscope.

“Alright, alright. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“You’re a terrible liar, and you’re a distraction. You need to go.”

“But-”

“Out.”

“You suck,” Jiraiya grumbled, crossing his arms as he walked to the door. “You know, you have to hang out with us sometime. You’re pale enough as-is. Get some sunlight, have a drink.”

“I will, when you manage not to interrupt my process.”

“Fuck your process,” Jiraiya grumbled.

“Out.” Orochimaru pointed at the door, lowering his hand only when he heard the door to his lab click shut.

Jiraiya exited the building and looked up, trying to guess the time. It was only about nine. He hadn’t heard from Tsunade, so she was either out gambling or at her apartment. It was a death sentence for his wallet if he found her in the gambling den, so he played it safe by deciding to check her residence first. With any luck, she’d be there, and willing to entertain him for a few hours. He’d had writer’s block for almost a week now, and he had to do something to get him writing again. He had three more chapters to write before his next deadline.

He didn’t have to think about where to go; his feet carried him through the familiar streets. God, it was good to be home. As much as he cared for those kids, it had been a long couple of years out there, alone. Well, not alone, but without anyone older than half his age. He’d missed the smell of Konoha, the people, and, most of all, the sun. He’d have killed for just one day of sunlight in Ame. He did his best to push Konan, Yahiko, and Nagato from his mind; the night he had planned for himself in no way involved children.

It involved alcohol, a good time, and, if he was lucky, some company.

He stopped in front of a familiar door and knocked three times in a rhythm. He waited for a minute before he knocked again, this time calling, “Princess! I know you’re there!” He didn’t, but it was worth a try all the same.

With no response, he began to knock on the door rapidly. She couldn’t stand when he did that. If she was home, he’d earn her ire, but she would inevitably open the door. As expected, Tsunade jerked the front door back, taking away his instrument. She was dressed in sweat pants and a tank top, and her hair was down. He looked up at her face, and she was angry. Oh, fuck, she was pissed.

“What do you want?” she snapped, crossing her arms below her chest.

He had to play his cards carefully. If he could make the right moves, maybe he could get out unharmed and convince her to join him. Starting the verbal dance, he began, “Can I come in? You’re not going to make me stand on your porch, are you?”

Her lips drew into a thin line as she looked up at him, studying his face. Apparently, he passed her test. She stepped back into her apartment, turning her back on him as she walked into the kitchen. Jiraiya let himself in and shut the door. So far, so good. He followed her, surprised to see her digging through her almost-empty cabinets.

“Everything I buy goes bad before I get to eat it,” she complained aloud. “I’m just going to stop buying food.” She tossed an unopened box into the trash for emphasis.

“You sound like Orochimaru.”

“You take that back.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “Why are you here?”

“I was hoping you’d want to get a drink with me. It’s a Saturday night, and it’s been years since we went out.”

“Whose fault is that?” Tsunade grumbled, flipping over a pack of noodles to check the expiration date. It joined the box in the trash. “I planned on finding dinner, watching a movie, and going to bed early before my shift at the hospital. Why should I go out with you?”

Jiraiya continued to watch her, smirking when he realized her predicament. How did he not figure it out sooner? “You lost all your money again,” he stated his conclusion.

She wheeled around and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t make fun of me,” she snapped, gesturing at him with an unopened granola bar.

He ran a hand over his face, doing his best not to laugh. “What am I going to do with you?” He shook his head and started to walk down the hallway.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded, stalking after him. “Hey!” She threw the granola bar at his head, and he dodged the attack. “I’m talking to you.”

Jiraiya opened the door to her bedroom and began rifling through her dresser drawers. He tossed various articles of clothing at her, stating, “What I mean is that I’m taking you to dinner, Princess. You need to eat, and I need the company. Now get dressed.”

Tsunade looked down at the clothes in her arms, weighing her options. She had to set her pride against her stomach, and her stomach won. “Fine,” she relented. “Get out.”

“Do I have to?” As soon as the playful words left his mouth, he knew he’d gone a step too far. He slipped out the door before she could reprimand him, escaping her wrath. He walked back into the kitchen and took up the task of sorting through the cabinets, getting rid of almost everything. The woman was worse than he was. It was remarkable that neither of his teammates had died of starvation while he was gone.

“Let’s go,” Tsunade suggested as she reappeared, tying a ribbon around her hair to keep it in place. “Where are we going, exactly?” she added, realizing that she had no idea what she was getting herself into. The bribe of food took precedence over the rest at first.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Don’t do that to me.”

“Do what?”

“Offer to buy me dinner and then ask me to choose where we go.”

“Most women would be happy about that, you know.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. Have a little faith in me, Princess.”

“You know this isn’t a date.”

“I know.”

She eyed him warily. He seemed genuine enough. “Sushi?”

“Yeah, I can do sushi.” He grinned down at her. It wasn’t their usual haunt, but the change of pace might be nice. He wouldn’t have much of a chance of meeting women at a sushi bar, but there was plenty of time for that as the night went on. “Shall we?” He offered her his arm dramatically. Used to his behavior, she swatted him lightly on the bicep before taking it, aware that he wouldn’t relent until she did.

The pair went in search of their late dinner, weaving through the crowded, main streets as they entered the middle of the village. Tsunade stopped in front of a restaurant, but Jiraiya’s hold on her arm took her with him, despite her protests.

“What’s wrong with you? We agreed on sushi!”

“If we’re going to have sushi, we’re going to have good sushi. You’re no fun when you’re sick, and I’m not taking that risk.”

“Jiraiya!”

“Indulge me.”

She bristled, but she did as she was told. They walked down several more streets before Jiraiya found what he was looking for. They entered the small restaurant and seated themselves at the bar, needing no time to decide what they wanted.

“I’ll take the tuna,” Jiraiya ordered.

“The squid, and a bottle of sake.” Tsunade smiled at their chef.

Holding up two fingers, Jiraiya corrected, “Two.”

Tsunade filled her saucer and took a sip before speaking. “I know you didn’t come to my apartment to buy me a pity dinner. What’s really going on?”

“I wanted to see if you had plans, and if you wanted to go to the bar. The whole food thing was secondary, but I’m glad I stopped by. I had to throw almost everything out.” He frowned, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “How’d you lose it this time?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled.

“Princess…”

She sighed. “I was winning. Really! But, you know, I got cocky…”

Jiraiya bit back a chuckle by finishing his saucer, enjoying the burn down his throat as he filled it again. “And the fact that you were winning didn’t tip you off?”

“Hey, I can win every now and again.”

“Really?” He snorted in amusement.

She broke apart her chopsticks and snapped them near his nose.

The chef placed their plates in front of them before turning back to his work, preparing the next orders for the other guests. Tsunade picked up a piece and put it in her mouth. “Mmm.” It had been so long since she’d last had a satisfying meal like this.

“Good, right?” Jiraiya asked with a grin. “And you wanted to go to that chain restaurant.”

“Alright, I was wrong. I admit it.” She waved her hand dismissively before drinking more of her sake. “Now, be honest with me. You’re spoiling me, and I want to know why. I already told you that this isn’t a date.”

He shrugged, more than willing to admit the truth. “I missed you. I missed this. Is that so bad?”

She was flattered, although she refused to show it. All she allowed herself to say was, “It’s good to have you back.”

He grinned. “You missed me.”

She scoffed. “Right. Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

He lifted his saucer to his lips and took a drink. “Yeah, you definitely missed me.”

They both knew he wasn’t wrong. Trying to change the subject, Tsunade asked, “So, those kids. How did that go?”

Jiraiya thought back on the last few years of his life, summarizing, “It was interesting, to say the least. Not what I thought I was signing up for. They’re good kids, though. I’m sure they’ll do fine on their own, now.”

“Orochimaru and I thought you were out of your mind.”

He clicked his tongue. “Yeah, well, there were a couple of times you wouldn’t’ve been wrong.” He shook his head. “But I don’t want to talk about Ame. Tell me what’s been going on here.”

“Not much, to be honest. Oro’s spending all his time in the lab. He’s taken on an apprentice, you know. Weird little girl…” Tsunade shrugged. “It’s just been more of the same. Shifts at the hospital, missions, that sort of thing. Sensei’s kid just made chunnin.”

“Good for him.” Jiraiya upended the last of his sake into his saucer. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Anything I need to be updated on?”

“I’m not half as interesting as you think I am,” she complained. “Trust me, there’s nothing exciting happening in my life other than my shifts in intensive care.”

“I found a publisher,” Jiraiya informed her. “My book, the one I wrote in Ame, is going to come out sometime next year. They’ve already slotted me for a second one.”

“A sequel?”

“Not exactly. I pitched a new series, and they bought it right away. But, now, I have to work on a schedule. I’m really bad at that; I need three more chapters by next week, and I’ve been stuck for days.”

“Can I help?”

Surprised by her offer, Jiraiya had to gather his thoughts before telling her, “Not really. I just need to get creative again. I sit down to write, and, just… nothing.”

“Come on, what inspires you? What makes you want to write? What helped you write in Ame?”

“The first book was completely different. I had all the material I needed, and the kids kept me so busy that when I sat down to write, it just worked. But the new series…” He drew random shapes in the air with his chopsticks as he tried to think. “It’s not the same. I can’t rely as much on personal experience. It needs a little more… finesse.”

“That’s how I’m going to pay you back for dinner,” Tsunade decided. “Let’s pay and get out of here. I’m going to make you write those chapters if it kills us.”

Jiraiya didn’t argue; having someone make him sit down and write, to keep him focused, was probably what he needed. He threw some bills on the counter to cover their tab, leaving the change for the chef. As they stepped out into the night, he asked, “Just go easy on me, okay? It’s not as easy as it looks.”

“Trust me, I know. I can’t write to save my life, and that’s just counting memos and letters. You and your books… not even close to my wheelhouse.” Tsunade smiled at him, and he soaked in her compliment. He didn’t get very many. “I can provide sake, some company, and maybe a little motivation.”

“That’s more than I could ask.” He hadn’t had someone sit in on his writing process before. The material of his book was, say, sensitive, but if there was anyone he could trust to give him honest feedback, it was Tsunade. She might crack a few jokes, but she wouldn’t change her opinion of him just because he was trying to write a romance novel.

He flicked on the lights to her apartment, and she opened the cabinet above the refrigerator, bringing down a bottle of sake. He snorted, quipping “At least alcohol takes a while to go out of date.”

“I could just not give you any.” She narrowed her brown eyes, like she was staring through his soul.

“I’m sorry.”

“Mm-hm.” She grabbed two glasses and walked into the living room, throwing herself down on the couch. She uncapped the bottle and handed Jiraiya his glass when he sat down on the opposite end. “So, let’s hear it. What do you have at this point? Where are you stuck?”

He pulled a notebook out of his pocket, hesitating before he opened it. “You have to swear that you won’t tell anyone. Not Oro, not sensei.”

Tsunade put her hand over her heart. “I swear. Now tell me!”

“Don’t laugh, okay? I pitched it as a romance series. You know, guy-gets-the-girl. But it’s from the guy’s point of view, you know? Something different that isn’t really done in the genre.”

“I like that,” Tsunade told him, her voice genuine. His ability to think of these things was what made her believe he had a career in writing. Those little nuances could make or break a book. She would have never thought of something so simple, but revolutionary. “That makes it different.”

“Exactly. But I can’t let that alienate the audience. Guys aren’t my only demographic, here. At least, I don’t want them to be. So, that’s where things have gotten a little tricky. Let me think of how to put this… I need the guy to go after this hard-to-get girl without looking like a total asshole.”

“So, don’t make him an asshole.”

“See, you say that like it’s easy. But us guys, if we like a girl, and she isn’t interested, we look creepy if we keep trying. There’s no sweep-you-of-your-feet moment for us; we have to do the sweeping. So, it can be really hit or miss.”

“Well, does she like him?”

“He doesn’t know yet.”

“Okay, but you should. You’re the author. You need to know what you’re working with here. Is she interested? Is she annoyed by him? And do you want him to grow on her? You have to get inside her head.”

Jiraiya tapped his pen against the notebook. How had he not thought of that? “She gets annoyed sometimes, and that’s genuine, because he can be a little forward. But, other times, she thinks it’s endearing. I think that’s what keeps him guessing? He can’t figure out the pattern. What do you think?”

Tsunade tucked her feet underneath her and turned to sit sideways on the couch, facing him. “Well, that’s not much to go on, but if I had to guess, I’d say she likes him. I don’t know that she loves him, at least not yet, because it’s early in the book. But if a woman does that, it’s usually a sign that she’s into someone. Maybe he’s someone she doesn’t want to like, or thinks is relationship material?”

“So, you’re saying that she might be into the main character, but either doesn’t know it or doesn’t want to admit it?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.” He wrote down several lines in the notebook as he took this in. “I think I’ll go with doesn’t know it, and then move on to doesn’t want to admit it.”

“Sounds about right. So, here’s the big question: does he get her?”

“I don’t know.” He faltered. “I hadn’t decided.”

“No wonder you’re stuck!” She threw a decorative pillow at him, which he caught before it hit his face. “Idiot. You can’t write a book if you don’t know how it’ll end or what your characters are thinking!”

“Okay, okay!” Jiraiya drained his glass and held it out for her to refill. “I get it. I jumped in too quickly.”

“You can work with this, though. You could have your character trying to figure out what you’re asking me. Does she like him? Why does she get annoyed? You know, that type of thing.”

“That could add to the conflict. I was thinking about having her be in love with another man.”

She reached out and smacked him on the chest. “Don’t you dare pull that cliché shit. A woman can be uninterested if she’s single. If you have him win her away from another man, I will personally take your book and put it where the sun doesn’t shine.” There was a bit of fear in his eyes. Good. Fear was healthy. “We’re not all fragile creatures. Sure, she could have had her heart broken, or pine after someone else, but there are plenty of reasons a woman might not want to be with a man.”

“Like?” he asked, genuinely trying to get answers.

“She’s trying to figure herself out. She doesn’t want to be tied down. She’s not looking for a relationship. She lost someone. She doesn’t trust people.” Tsunade ticked off each point on her fingers, listing just a few. “But,” she raised her index finger, “that doesn’t mean that she isn’t interested in something simple. She could be looking for friendship, or even just sex. It doesn’t have to be complicated. Women aren’t as hard to figure out as you think, if you know what to look for.”

Jiraiya’s pen scratched across the paper, writing down everything she said. She was incredibly helpful, and he thought that she might have pulled him out of the rut he was in. “Give me a second,” he told her, flipping the page and continuing to write. She moved to the middle of the couch so that she could look to see what he was writing down.

“I can’t read your handwriting,” she complained, her brow furrowing.

“You don’t need to. This isn’t even a rough draft at this point.”

“So? Read it to me.”

“Keep it in your pants,” he grumbled, continuing to write so that he didn’t lose the words. He’d filled another two pages before he stopped, a smile on his face. Maybe his block was finally gone. “Okay, tell me how this sounds:

He placed a hand on her hip and cradled the back of her head with the other. With a strong pull, she fell against him, and he captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Despite her protests, he held her there until she melted into the sensation.”

“That sounds like a terrific way to get your ass kicked.”

“What?”

“That has to be the first time he kisses her, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Any woman in her right mind would slap him and walk off. It doesn’t matter if they’ve been flirting, or if there’s tension. Unless she’s drunk off her ass, which it doesn’t sound like she is, there’s no way she’d let him get away with that.”

“Okay, Miss Expert. What would you have him do?”

“He’s got to come in slowly. Just… here, let me show you. So, he should take his hand like this,” she took Jiraiya’s hand, movements mimicking her words, “and put it against her cheek. He could brush her hair back or stroke her cheek, something to get some contact going. Now, if she likes it, she’s going to smile or lean into it. Make her seem relaxed. If she’s fighting, she doesn’t want it, and that’s not somewhere you want to go.” She waited for him to nod in understanding. “Good. Now, what he does here can vary, but you can keep his hand on her hip if you want. I’d say he should move it to her lower back. See? Flat palm, enough to guide, but without physically grabbing her. You don’t want to make her feel trapped.”

His mouth felt dry as he looked straight at her, his brain doing its best to function in the current situation. His hands were on her. It wasn’t like he’d never touched her before; they’d sparred, and they’d leaned on one another after many a night with too much to drink. But this was different. Even if it was a demonstration, she’d put his hands on her. She was letting him. He didn’t realize she was speaking to him until she shouted.

“Jiraiya!”

“Huh?”

“I’m trying to help you, here. The least you could do is listen.”

“Right. Yeah. Okay.”

“Like I was saying, if he wants to pull her to him, have him apply a bit of pressure to her lower back. Draw her in, don’t pull her. Go on.”

He followed her prompting, subconsciously holding his breath when she was pressed against him. Sitting on the couch, their height difference wasn’t as pronounced. He was only a few inches above her.

“See the difference? There’s nothing wrong with getting a little rough, but that’s a big no for the first kiss. If he wants to get another chance at it, he needs to come in with a peck, linger for just a second, and then kiss her again. No tongue unless she starts it.” She grabbed his notebook and pen off the arm of the couch, moving her face from his hand so that she could write. “Let me put this down for you so that you don’t forget. I’ll be pissed if I read it and you use that shitty line in the final copy.”

“You want to read my book?” He didn’t conceal his surprise.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?” She snapped the notebook shut. “You’re talented, and you know it.”

“I’m just surprised that you’d be interested in a romance novel written by me, of all people.”

“If you keep coming up with crap like this, I’ll make you add me on as a co-author. You’re going to need my help to write this book. Of course, I want to read it when it’s done.”

He crinkled his nose. “I guess I’m not as smooth as I thought.”

Tsunade did her best to fight back her laughter, but she failed. He was insulted, yet she couldn’t stop. She waved her hand, excusing herself before wiping the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She downed the rest of her glass to compose herself. “No, no, you’re not.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” he protested. “I’ll have you know, I have no trouble getting women.”

“You ‘get’ women because you’re hot and you buy them alcohol until they stop listening to you.” She snorted as she raised her glass to her lips. “Trust me, you don’t exactly have a silver tongue.”

“You think I’m hot.”

“Hm?”

“You just told me I’m hot.” He grinned widely at her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Please. It’s an objective observation. Don’t let it go to your head. I could have said the same thing about Oro.”

“Nah. See, Oro’s pretty; remember, we agreed on that word for him before I left. But you just said I’m hot. There’s a big difference.”

“Just take the compliment, Jiraiya.”

“Oh, I am. See, I know I’m hot. It’s just a fact. But you said it.” He poked her playfully in the shoulder, laughing at the annoyance on her face.

“You know what? This is your problem. You push. You just can’t leave well enough alone, can you?”

He leaned back and picked up his glass. “Some people would call that settling.”

She shook the empty bottle from side to side, frowning to herself. She peeled herself off the couch and sauntered back into the kitchen, where she threw the bottle into the trash. On her toes, she reached into the cabinet above the refrigerator, groping where she couldn’t see. “Little help here?” she asked over her shoulder.

Jiraiya remained seated, watching her with a quirked eyebrow. “Only if you admit it.”

“Fuck you,” she grumbled, turning back to the task at hand. She improvised by climbing up onto her countertop, clinging to the top of the cupboard for balance. The way she had to contort her arm was far from comfortable, but she succeeded in reaching the bottle at the back of the cabinet. In victory, she withdrew it, moving a little too quickly for her inebriated state to pace. She slipped, but she fell for less than a second before she was steadied.

“Easy there, Princess.” Jiraiya lifted her off the counter and set her back on the ground with infuriating ease. “I think you’ve had enough.” He took the bottle from her hand and sat it on top of the fridge.

“I’m not drunk.” She crossed her arms.

“I know. Believe me. But that doesn’t mean I should enable you.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and maneuvered her back into the living room. “I can’t have my writing partner wasted. We still have two more chapters to get through. You promised, remember?”

“Why did I do that?” she asked herself ruefully.

“Doesn’t matter; you’re locked in, now.” He sat back down on the couch and patted the cushion beside him.

“Fine, but I’m laying down.” She stretched across the sofa, her knees hanging over the arm and her head against Jiraiya’s thigh. By the way he looked down at her, she knew he was amused, but she couldn’t care less. “So, you have the guy kiss the girl. Then what?”

He settled back against the cushion, draping his arms over the back of the couch as he thought. Absentmindedly, his fingers traced lazy circles and swirls on her thigh, just above her knee; it surprised her that she didn’t swat him away. His chin was tilted up as he looked at the ceiling. “I guess he’ll figure out that he needs to be patient to win her over. She’ll probably keep rejecting him, but he’ll keep trying.”

“That isn’t romantic. Are you sure you’re writing for the right genre?”

He grinned down at her. “You see, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m writing realistic romance. That dime-store crap old ladies read has nothing on my work. That’s all fantasy. I want mine to be life. The ups and the downs, with everything in between. It’s never that easy. People fight, they get jealous, they get rejected. But, they keep trying. That’s what I’m going for.”

She nodded thoughtfully. It may have been the alcohol talking, but she agreed, “I see what you mean. Well, if you want to talk about a fucked-up love life, you don’t have to look further than our team.” Her laugh was bitter.

“What’s Orochimaru been up to that I don’t know about?” he asked, more than a little concerned by the thought. “Oh, my god, Tsunade. Please tell me that you and Oro didn’t…”

“No!” She reached up and put a hand on his forehead, forcing his head back up. “Pervert.”

“I had to ask.”

“No, you really didn’t. God. He’s like my brother.” She shuddered at the thought. Orochimaru was dear to her, and she loved him, but she certainly wasn’t in love with him. He was a friend, a reassuring presence, and a shoulder to lean on. “And if you want to know what he’s been up to, ask him, not me. You know how private he is. I have to respect that.”

“Now I’m really curious.”

“Too bad.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Anything I missed while I was away?” he asked. “No new beaus I have to fight off?”

With a glint in her eye, Tsunade sat up and turned to face him. “You heard that the feudal lord died, right?  Well, his son thinks he wants to marry me.”

“His son?”

“Yeah. Something about my Senju blood, and all that crap. But, you have to see this. Hold on a sec.” She jumped up and rushed down the hall, returning a moment later with a cardboard box, a square foot large. “He,” she said as she sat back down, crossing one leg beneath her, “has been sending me useless little trinkets for ages, now. I kept sending them back, but he’d return them. I pawn most of it.” She laughed, taking delight in how her admirer was unknowingly funding her gambling habit. “But, but, he sends these little haikus with them. I was saving them so you could look at them when you got back.” With glee, she handed Jiraiya a folded piece of paper.

He smoothed the paper out and read aloud:

“Tsunade Senju Won’t you please accept my love And this sake set?”

Jiraiya cackled, but Tsunade waved her hand to silence him as she read off another piece of paper.

“I have seen your face Only in a photograph You have nice cheekbones.”

“You’re fucking with me.” He took the piece of paper from her and read it himself. “He’s gotta be on something. I mean, he has to know how bad this is, right? No one’s that self-absorbed.”

“Oh, but he is. I have a year and a half’s worth of these things. And you want to know the best part? I’ve never replied. Not once. But these things just keep coming in the mail!”

He gave a low whistle. “Damn. He has it bad.”

“Thank you! God, no one else thinks it’s funny. Sensei wants me to write him and tell him one way or the other. Oro just doesn’t care. A year and a half of these things, and I finally get to laugh with you about it!”

“So, I take it you’re not interested.”

She snorted. “I’d rather die than be a politician’s wife. Hell, I don’t think I want to be anyone’s wife. Not for a long while, anyway. Sure as hell not to someone I don’t even know. It’s a stupid construct, anyway.”

Jiraiya bit his tongue before he reminded her that she didn’t always feel that way. Bringing up Dan was probably the worst thing he could do. Instead, he added his own opinion. “I think it might be nice in, what, twenty years? You know, when I’m retired, and all this bullshit is behind me. No war, no missions, just me and my books. When I’m not just living day by day. By then, I should have enough from my royalties to get myself a nice place, maybe with a view. Enjoy myself. Maybe then, I’ll settle down. But, for right now, we don’t get to be that lucky. We’re ninja.”

“Exactly,” Tsunade agreed.

“You know what? What do you say if, in twenty years, we’re both alive and very much alone, we tie the knot and get the hell out of here. Just say ‘fuck it’ and find somewhere away from this village and all this ninja bullshit.”

“Only if you’re rich enough to support my drinking and gambling.”

“Princess, no one could ever have that much money.” He deserved the punch he received on the arm. “Come on, yes or no?”

“I don’t know. What if you get old and ugly? Or if there’s no spark? I don’t want to promise you something I don’t want to keep.”

“Okay, first of all, I will never be ugly, and the fact that you would even think so is insulting. As for our compatibility, I think we’ve got that covered.”

“Making out in a cave eight years ago doesn’t count. We were in a war; nothing counts when you’re fighting a war.”

“Fair enough,” he had to admit. She was right, and he knew it. Even when he was eighteen, he knew that they’d pretend it never happened. It was one of the biggest disappointments of his life. “Damned shame, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“It not counting. I was using all my best moves, too. I mean, looking back, they weren’t great, but it was what I had.” He grinned at the thought. “You punched me in the jaw because I grabbed your ass. It was worth it.”

“I forgot about that…”

“Well, I sure as hell didn’t!” He laughed.

It was completely on impulse that she caught him by the collar and pulled him down, silencing him when she pressed her lips against his. She tried to keep him there, but he pulled back, looking down at her in confusion. “Whoa, there,” he stammered, eyes wide. His hands loosened hers from his collar and moved them away. “Tsunade, look at me. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two, jackass,” she snapped. “I’m not drunk. I’m lucid. If you want to be a prick about it-” The rest of her sentence died when he leaned back in, closing what little distance remained. She fought not to laugh when he placed his hand on her lower back; at least he learned quickly. When she deepened the kiss, she realized that this was the first time she’d allowed anyone to get close to her in this way since Dan. The thought didn’t bring heartache with it this time, which was a pleasant twist, but one that still stung.

But this was Jiraiya, for god’s sake. It wasn’t like she was replacing Dan. She hadn’t moved on, so she refused to feel guilty for her actions. This wasn’t about Dan, or filling the void he left. There was already a place for Jiraiya in her heart when Dan worked his way in; she didn’t have to reduce his space to make room. They had no secrets from one another. He knew that Jiraiya loved her, about the incident in the cave, about everything. But he was never jealous; he wasn’t that type of man.

When she knotted her fingers in Jiraiya’s hair, when he fell with her, on top of her, to lie on the couch, it was entirely different. What she had with Dan was light, almost spiritual. He was her one. Sometimes, she wondered if he even belonged on earth. He was the high she didn’t want to lose.

With Jiraiya, it felt more like she was sinking, being pulled down to a rock bottom she didn’t want to climb out of. He knew her deeply, intimately, so much so that she couldn’t wear her mask. He knew every scar and every mark because he’d witnessed them form.

She realized she hadn’t been breathing when she broke away, gasping for air. His lips grazed down the side of her neck, and she shifted beneath him. Immediately, he lifted himself up by placing his hands on either side of her head. He searched her face for any negative expression as he asked, “Too far?”

“No.”

“If you’re uncomfortable, all you have to do is tell me. I get it.”

“Stop being a good guy and get back down here.”

“Because if this has something to do with Dan, I don’t want you to do anything you might regret. I don’t want to be that guy.”

She groaned and ran a hand over her face. He’d taken the moment out back and killed it, so she might as well clarify. “No, this has nothing to do with Dan. I’m not repressing or escaping. I would have broken down by now if I was. Now, stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m going to break. I’m not. You can either accept that this is a completely lucid, consensual situation, or don’t, but you need to decide.”

“I need you to swear it to me. That this isn’t going to hurt you, or us.”

She wished she could take away the look in his eyes. He was being cautious, and she couldn’t blame him. When he’d left, she’d been far from okay. She placed her hands on his cheeks and pulled his head down, resting his forehead against her own. “I swear.”

Satisfied with her answer, he kissed her with fervor, holding himself up with one forearm, leaving the other free to roam down her side. She threw her arms around his neck to keep him close. Calloused fingertips brushed beneath her shirt, against her abdomen, and her hips bucked involuntarily in response. She could feel his self-satisfied smirk and bit his lower lip in retaliation. Her fingers worked against the knot in his belt, trying to loosen the fabric. Of course, he couldn’t just tie a simple knot. She should have known better.

“Why are you such a pain in the ass?” she murmured against his lips, trying to focus. She grinned at her victory when she finally released the strings of fabric. Her hands pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and he moved his hand away to reach over his back, grabbing the hem and pulling the article up and off his body, shifting his weight to free his other arm.

“There’s no way we can stay on this couch,” he complained as he tossed his jacket to the floor. “It might work for you, but I’m going to fall off.”

“Then get up,” she prompted, pushing against his shoulders. He stood up, and she followed suit, walking off down the hallway. For a moment, he stood in place, dumbfounded and confused. “Are you coming?” she called, tossing something down the hallway. He bent over and picked it up, realizing with a start that it was her shirt.

It took his body a moment to catch up with his mind. It was only when she said his name that he jumped into action.

“Jiraiya?”

Nearly tripping over his own feet, he stumbled down the hall, clumsily pulling his own shirt over his head as he went. He bumped against the wall hard enough that he’d probably end up with a bruise, but at least he knew he wasn’t dreaming. It had taken six years to get her to kiss him, and another six to get this far. He’d rather die than miss this chance, and, hopefully, he wouldn’t have to wait six more years before he could have her to himself again. In fact, he would make sure that it wouldn’t be that long.