It's been a while since i last posted a fanfic! I'm sorry! I hope this makes up for it. This is an original story that i wrote, then adapted into a JirTsu one-shot in memory of Jiraiya's death in the manga.
I am usually very bad at writing emotional scenes, but i think i did quite well on this one. Thank you so much to Laura for beta-reading this one-shot for me, you are pure awesomeness!
I hope you enjoy this fanfic, as always please R+R

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or any of it's characters, that joy belongs to Masashi Kishimoto alone. Trust me if i did own naruto, Jiraiya wouldn't be dead!

Irreversible

It was a warm spring day, late afternoon, the sun already setting on the horizon. Two figures were standing by the main gate of the hidden village in the dusky light of the sunset, saying farewell.
Twisting the golden ring on her finger, Tsunade looked up into her husband's eyes.
"I'm sorry Jiraiya, the elders forced me to. Please, refuse this mission." She pleaded.
Jiraiya smiled and pulled her into a hug,
"You know I'm the only person who can do this mission. The only other person that could is you and we all know the elders would never let that happen. Besides, what other cranky old hag would be able to run the village but you?" he joked, receiving a painful jab in the ribs for his effort.
"Very funny," she said "But you're right, they would never let me go."
"Which is why I have to!" he said with a smile.
Suddenly, becoming serious, he bent down and pressed his forehead to hers, looking deep into her eyes. "I'll come back, I promise"

- Four Years Later -

It was a relatively calm, tranquil night. Like any other perhaps. The stars twinkled obliviously in the jet black sky, the moon shone defiantly behind the few stray clouds that blocked its path and a cold chill set in rapidly, announcing nightfall. The people of Konoha still bustled around, going about their business, irritated voices occasionally blared angrily and shop lights flared brightly in the darkness of night.
A warm glow emanated from a small, circular window high up the side of the Hokage's building. The walls were painted its usual bright red and seemed cheerful, but upon closer inspection the paint was beginning to crack and peel way.
Inside, the Hokage's quarters, the fireplace crackled and hissed as it devoured logs of wood and the television buzzed nonsense to itself, forgotten.
Tsunade sat alone on the plush sofa in the center of the room; her soft blonde locks were splayed across her delicate face as she sighed, drifting in and out of sleep and still tightly clutching the photograph on her lap.

It must have been past midnight when the presence at the door startled her. She didn't hear a knock, but had no need to. Tsunade knew he was there.
Finding herself at the door, a surreal feeling washed over her but she pushed it away quickly. How many years had she been waiting for this moment? How much pain had she endured waiting for the day he would come? She needed this, she told herself.
Needed it.
Shaking hands gripped the smooth metallic door handle in front of her, she wasn't sure why she hesitated to twist the handle and open the door.
It had been four years since Jiraiya had died on that mission, four years since they had said he wouldn't ever come back.
But she knew, knew he would return to her one day. For months afterwards, sometimes even now, illusions of dark, warm blood appeared; dripping from her hands, slowly, endlessly. Every time, she scrubbed her hands until they were chafed and raw; they never seemed to get cleaner, his blood just wouldn't go away.
But the moment she knew would come was finally here, that one instant in time she had desperately wished for.
Flinging the door open, she caught her breath as she saw him standing in front of her. That oh-so familiar smile made her heart twinge, the first time in a long while. Emotion filled hazel eyes traced a path over his figure. His hair was so much more matted than she remembered; his hands and face thinner, veins substantially more visible, sickly.
Cold hands touched her skin gently and proverbial arms enveloped her in a tight embrace. Wrapping her own arms around him, the tears began to fall.
Warmth.
Heartbeat.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Slowly.
He tried to pull away, tried to look to into her eyes and tell her those words he needed to say. But Tsunade held on, tighter, reluctant to let him go. She knew she was being selfish, that her love was selfish. But she didn't care. She had him back in her arms again and it made everything all right once more.
They had told her that he was dead, that Jiraiya had died for a good cause – to defend the village, not to blame herself, to accept that he was never coming back. But she blamed herself, for being the one to send him on the mission, for not being able to save him and she could never accept that he wouldn't come back. He had promised her that day, four years ago that he would return to her and she had believed him, knew he would come back, no matter what everyone else said.
She had dealt with the empty space on the other side of the bed, the meals for one, the pain of waiting, because she knew that love conquered all.
They didn't understand.
Jiraiya and Tsunade stayed there, in that warm embrace, for what seemed like an eternity to her. She wished they could stay like that for the rest of time, just him and her, together. He had taken all her pain away after Dan had died; now he was taking her pain away all over again.
He was the one that eventually broke away. Loving hands clasped her cheeks and turned her face to look at him. Tsunade started to tremble; an ominous feeling overcame her as she searched his face for a sign. His smile was more melancholy now, tears in his own eyes too.
He bent down and kissed her tenderly; his lips were freezing cold and made her shiver. Resting his forehead against hers he looked into her eyes, letting his tears mingle with her own.
It was at that moment that she realized that it he had meant for it to be the last time, their embrace, their kiss, their meeting again. It meant he could finally say goodbye. His last farewell.
The imaginary blood began to drip from her hands again as she shook wildly. He had just returned, how could he leave her again now? How could he?
"Goodbye Tsunade" he whispered as he slowly began to fade away right before her eyes, like a ghost, incorporeal.
Was he truly dead? Had he really left her for good all those years ago?
"Don't break your promise to me Jiraiya! Come back! Don't leave me! You can't be dead... I can't live without you... I love you" She shouted, reaching out and trying to grab onto him, anything to make him stay. But her hands grabbed at nothing. In the end all she could do was watch him leave.
He had disappeared.
Just like that.
Collapsing to her knees, she wailed frenziedly, her face in her hands. The pain of loss once more searing through her broken heart.
She was alone.

Suddenly desperate brown eyes fluttered open, jolted from her sleep, darting around the empty home. Tsunade was still sitting on that plush sofa, a plump man on the television laughed uncontrollably, mockingly and the fire hissed and spat.
She had fallen asleep. It had all been a dream.
It hit her then, like a wave. Hot tears stung and streamed down her face in the shock of realization.
Because it was then she finally understood.
She clutched the photo of him she still held, the glass cracked in one corner of the frame, his smiling face staring back at her, gazing into her very being.
She could never bring him back, no matter how hard she tried to or how much she wished for it.
Because death is irreversible.

The End

There you go, my first fanfic in a while. I hope it was worth the wait! Please leave me a review, be it a good one or constructive critisism. Thanks x