Jiraiya's Musings

Some say that it is the quiet ones that one should keep their eyes on, for they are difficult to decipher by eye or ear; their actions are always unpredictable. They are like the solemn snake or the surfing whale; presenting a danger unknown to the senses. They are like the fear of thin ice, or distant thunderstorms; the plumes of ancient instinct. A naked corpse; a lost way; a room of nothing.

Yet it is not the quiet ones that one should keep their eyes on. No, it is the loud ones. It is the ones that are so loud we cannot hear what they are saying. For while one can stay in certainty that the quiet one is intelligent – swiftly surveying and decomposing his surroundings into simplifications; and that the loud are banal and easy to comprehend, squawking and chirping for days on end; with no sensibilities apparent. It is unwise to dichotomize things; there exists more than two sides to anything not constructed by the human hand: There are the loud that have experienced nothing; there are the silent that have seen empires rise and fall; there are loud that remain unknown; the silent that know nothing. They are the ambience of the forest – life always yelling – yet, who knows what they speak; the mind quickly disregards their ancientness; logic thoroughly simplifies them as unworthy of attention or study. This, is where the real danger lies.

For it is when one speaks so loud, that others cannot hear what he says, that one never knows what swells below the ice; what creature ponders beneath it. Is it a whale? Or simply a fish? Is there nothing at all? Foolish, wise, or both, men will simply assume the possibility of fish is likely, knowing the absolution of water and the solid ice beneathe their feet. They will assume that even if they should fall through, that they will will be fine; there are fish under him, not whales. These suspended people need doubt what they have been taught from birth; and crack the ice themselves, for to truly believe in something, one must first doubt. These people, need dive into the freezing depths and discover for themselves what fish lie below the surface.

But even disregarding what lies below the ice and what could exist on ahead, or what may lie before, It is the one who speaks loud and in ones face that one should remain attentive to, for soon, the birds will stop chirping, the wolves howling – the sounds and cacophonies of everything will cease and one will realize that their time is up and that they have missed everything. So while it is wise to fear the ones that never speak to us, it is a greater fear to think to know the one that speaks, but has never truly spoken. Even further, it is ridiculous to place human language above nonsense.

August, 8th

"Don't usually write things like that anymore," Jiraiya mused, closing his notebook and wondering on his words, "Good for nothin' brat's gone and distracted me from my work. He's not even here..."

On the surface Jiraiya and his pupil hated each other – or at least could not stand each others presence – their loud bickering of sex, morals, and training; they had a loving relationship. It was not evident in the hyperactive blond's words, not really in his actions either, for knocking the proud pervert from his perch and into a den

of she-devils was hardly an act of kindness or love (Jiraiya still had the bruises to prove it).

No, the fondness Naruto had for Jiraiya was not in what he did say, or what he did do – it was in the things he did not say; the things hedid not do.

"Ne Ero-sennin," Naruto had sighed softly, his eyes starward, "Do you have a thing for Baa-chan?"

"Eeeeh?" Jiraiya responded in a noisy, pig-like squeal, "What's this about gaki? You interested in–"

"EEEEW! Ero-sennin! That's disgusting!" Naruto sat up from his relaxed position in the tall grasses and stared at him indignantly.

"Hmph. Why would you ask a stupid question like that?"

"Ano... well... you and Baa-chan were teammates, right?"

"Yeah, we were the sannin. I hope you seriously didn't need to ask me that, even academy students know who I am!"

"So I've heard... just forget it,"

"Out with it, brat."

There would be no end of it if he refused.

"Fine. I was just wondering... that if you had liked Obaa-chan, a lot –which you must since you look at Obaa-chan different from everybody else – then... if you were teammates for a long time..."

"Well, go on,"

"Ah – then... why aren't you two... together? I mean... you were teammates with her for a long time... didn't you two get really close?"

Jiraiya watched the black sky, "Brat... the purpose of dividing ninja into teams is so strong bonds are forged... but, they don't always turn up in marriage, actually, most teammates don't usually get married; I suppose after a time, you can only get so close to something before you start to get repelled back into place. Besides,

Tsunade hated my guts to begin with, we were the least likely to be "together"

"Naruto looked down, "Oh,"

"Yeah, she had a lot of pretty boys followin' after her and her assets if you catch my drift, ne? Between Nawaki and Dan, and all of her fanboys, there wasn't much

time for lil' ol' Jiraiya," he grinned, "I still got to see her naked though. Orochimaru too... hmm, I should probably kill him for that..."

So from there, Naruto endured Jiraiya's escapades as a member of Team Seven.

Particularly, that conversation had no initial value to Jiraiya, as his thoughts drifted elsewhere as he spoke; concerned with Akatsuki and Orochimaru – of what he would do with Naruto the next day – of where they would eat, who he might have appointments with – whether he was going to do research in the coming days – Jiraiya could never plan more than a day ahead in advance, for one never knew what would happen after any given day, and with Jiraiya's life, that was even

more apparent. Still, despite Jiraiya's coercion into semi-spontanity, he was still chained down by time and place – of responsibilities and of "life" (he still wasn't sure what the last one was to him).

It was only after Jiraiya was able to settle into an inn a week later, that the old pervert had begun to truly understand what Naruto had been asking of him. Until the nonsense was processed. He finally understood Naruto's hesitance. It was obvious.

Naruto had someone special to him – the whiny pink girl in his team. That was apparent to anyone who spent even five minutes with the boy, who was not ashamed to shout his love to the world. But no one had once thought any sort of tangible relationship with the girl would ever be possible – nobody besides Naruto, anyway. Jiraiya, too, seemed to have obtained that notion by osmosis. Perhaps she had reminded him of

Tsunade, as well.

It was a foolish dream, to think that a girl like Sakura could see any worth in Naruto. He'd had a few words with Tsunade before he and Naruto left, and if Tsunade's disdain was anything, he was certain Naruto's affection for the girl was in vain.

Still, Naruto had continued to believe in that dream for the whole first year of their training. And now, just a week prior... was he doubting

it? Was he fearing it?

Those questions, while pivotal to the turmoil in Naruto's heart, were not as nearly astounding to Jiraiya as to what he finally realized.

He was comparing himself to Jiraiya. This, was one of the things left unsaid by the boy. Truly, for Naruto to compare himself to a person he did not like, would be impossible. From his own time with the boy, the blond had only ever compared himself to things he believed in, or worshipped; saying, he would become greater than all the Hokage. If Naruto had no difficulty comparing himself with Jiraiya, it meant hewas as important to him as had been the Sandaime, and as respectable as the awesome Yondaime.

But ignoring the rest of the things unheard – the boring ambience in Naruto's words – it was truly something tragic for Jiraiya to realize. He'd told Naruto the truth, and he had feared then, that hehad destroyed the boy's hope.

But then another fearful thought crossed his mind – what if Naruto had been comparing himself to Jiraiya, because he thought that he would become... a hermit... just like him.

A person nobody likes; nobody respects. A person no one will ever love. A person whose only attachment is to life, and even that, is eventually pried from him.

Jiraiya's heart wrenched – although he accepted who he was and what he had made himself to be, he would not wish it upon any other soul (except perhaps Orochimaru... and maybe Dan). To think that Naruto could become as pathetic a person as he... the loud, obnoxious, totally unattractive, loathed by women everywhere, Jiraiya the Superpervert – made him want to find Naruto a girlfriend before it was too late.

But that boy would never be satisfied, he'd amended moments later. He was as stubborn as he was, Naruto would either have a miracle, or he would be alone. In the end, although Jiraiya outwardly doubted it, Sasuke would be rescued by Naruto, and then his dream for requited love would be forever dashed. The stupid boy would probably have done it with a blazing, idiotic grin, too, just to see the finite smile in that stupid girl's face. Those two idiots deserved each other, if only for their inability to restrain themselves. He'd seen how that girl's emotional trauma had sent Naruto nearly to his death. She could break him with her words alone.

After that night, Jiraiya had vowed to prevent Naruto from ever becoming him. If only because he understood now what ran underneath Naruto's finely crafted mask.

Tears, of course.

Naruto was a crying soul. He probably still cried for all the beatings he'd endured as a child and for the humiliating defeats he suffered as a man. It was the desire to be like the flawless stone-faced heroes of Konoha that made Naruto in what he was. He was a baby; yearning for someone to scoop up his pieces and place them somewhere warm. It was this silent, yet boisterous crying, that had made Naruto previously incomprehensible to all.

Jiraiya sighed, these thoughts were far too serious for a man such as himself.

For all the complications... Akatsuki, Orochimaru, Konoha; Jiraiya would have thought that he hated his job teaching Naruto then, but he didn't.

Jiraiya looked up at the stars.

He didn't say anything.

---

To sum up and a portion of this chapter's reasoning... "The greatest sincerity is not what is said, or what is not said, but is what is unconsciously assumed. The bridge between friendship and intimacy is so short, one cannot realize when they have crossed it,"

This is really just one big ramble of my thoughts on Naruto, with Jiraiya as the vessel. I figured there wasn't any harm in posting it, since there's little Jiraiya-centered fiction around.

Update: Nov 11, 2007: I gave this a tune up. It's really not much better, most of the structure and wordage is retained, but I tried to make the opening paragraphs less wordy and more concrete. If there are any errors that I have still glossed over, please let me know somehow.