"It is the stillest words that bring on the storm. Thoughts that come on doves' feet guide the world." - Nietzsche
The sun has not long risen when the heiress was suddenly aroused from slumber by a loud and terrific sound, for which she could in no manner account. It was of very brief duration, but, while it lasted, resembled nothing in the world of which she had any previous experience. It is needless to say that she became excessively alarmed, having, in the first instance, attributed the noise to an object within her room. She got out of bed with caution and lit a candle to examine all her belongings, however, with great attention, and could discover nothing out of order. Soon after awaking she heard more noise coming from outside but this time the sounds could be easily attributed to someone she knew; her best friend Jiraiya. With a soft smile she put on a cloak and rushed into the weak daylight where came to her view with that instant the reason of fear. Upon the ground, right at door lay a dead crow.
"Oh poor thing..." She sighed in pity and knelt at the bird. "Should we try help him?" With tender eagerness she enquired, and her bosom burnt with affection to revive the bird fallen dead and taken amidst the comforting cradle of her palms. She speculated upon the subject of the unnamable, of the unseen, of the unknown, since things as such fascinated her vividly blooming mind.
She would oftentimes be called childish as her constant talk about 'magical' things was a rather puerile device, quite against her high standing as an heiress of the most prosperous kingdom of the world.
"Don't say nonsense so early in the morning… You cannot possibly have powers, Tsunade."
His words were honest as much as they were fool's talk, for Jiraiya was a young man of strict associations and simple intuitions. Unmistakable his belief was in the fact that things could only be perceived through our five senses wherefore it was impossible to refer to any object of the world as 'magical', for everything had their proper and simple explanation.
With this friend, Tsunade oftentimes languidly disputed, the more her curiosity grew in relation to life and the lands that unfolded around her, the very root of magic she was not yet allowed to see. "You say that now, Jiraiya, but remember who healed your arm when you were trying to show off with your skills in fencing. I can easily do it again, just let me focus…" The blonde heiress insisted as she spoke, and she spoke in cunning gentleness of the heart and rigid volition of the spirit.
More focused she became, as she would never allow her instincts to fail her; it was the sole thing she would rely on ever since she was conscious of her own existence. If she felt she could revive the crow, then she would sit at her doorstep and do it relentlessly.
In all truth, it would have been a lie to declare that he was neither bewitched nor curious; the young servant of the royalty leaned closer to better observe the bird within her hands that now glowed with wild green of emerald. It was an inexplicable sight to the mere human eyes, and of those, whose religion was restricted amidst four ideological walls.
Utter quietude fell upon them as they waited, during which the eyes were so intensely fixed upon the dead animal and spirits were enflamed in faith, entrapped within the glorious moment of reanimation.
The word itself could not be more accurately used for this occasion, forasmuch it suggests the soul returning to the body and so with patience and faith in the unknown she slowly healed the motor of the small carcass, and the heart began to beat and the eyes opened and the bird was alive! It was alive!
With unmeasurable joy Tsunade freed the animal and watched it reply to the inviting calling of the illimitable sky where it belonged, and it flew away as if its life has never once been interrupted by the early swing of the Scythe.
"I knew it." Tsunade smiled victoriously and added; "I believe this is what we call magic." The heiress could not hide the smirk upon her lips as it widened the longer she gazed upon the pale blue vaults of heaven.
The case merely grew even more curious once the young servant did not answer the way she expected him to. First of all, there was no doubt she has brought back a life, notwithstanding the fact it was a tiny and fragile one. Second of all, she yet believed she was the only one capable of such doings as healing. She could not on earth imagine that her beliefs were based on false accusations about the world. With a deep sigh drawn from his lungs he spoke, and he spoke in keen frankness. "Trust me, this is most definitely not magic what you did, Tsunade!" He retorted at her persistent insistence to the notion of the unnatural.
"Why are you so small-minded? It was magic, I am certain. You saw yourself how it flew away after we thought it was dead! See, there are even some drops of blood on my hands!" The heiress' faultless features beamed in stubborn frustration and she waved with both palms in front of the young man, yet not one slight wrinkle could dissipate the unearthly beauty she was.
Jiraiya was certain she was the creation of divine testament, the child of muses and nymphs, and the very essence of what was to be called angelic. As she folded her round arms over her chest to his greatest joy she unintentionally emphasized her blooming bosom that no man's eyes could leave. And he was no different from all, and with a timid gulp he rapidly looked away.
She was his friend, they have known each other since the beginning of time, and he shan't be considering her as a woman, for she was supposed to be a sister-like creature, or something of that kind. "It is called jutsu!" His voice thickened as he raised his chin to speak, offering her a different view of his face. He believed he would most definitely appear stricter and wiser by the simple action of looking down at her, the same way the King was taught to act.
At this point, it is inevitable to note that Jiraiya did not possess the means of knowing how to actually lift his head properly to be more severe, and instead of proposing a majestic gesture he appeared to be rather hilarious, of which Tsunade's graceful laughter spoke.
He became pale while his cheeks reddened and rapidly he resumed talking. "I heard it in the village…." He began with rediscovered courage. "Apparently, there are people with 'magic' all over Konoha. The Elite troops consist of those as well who can do these things. They say innumerable jutsu exist, and it depends on your affilatio… Affi-…Aphrodisi…"
"Affiliation?" The alluring lady of the sweetest smile giggled as she tilted her head in evident wonder flashing across her innocent features. "I see…" She speculated before she resumed. "Do you think father knows jutsu too? Or perhaps uncle Tobirama?"
"I don't know, Tsunade… But I know some of the King's samurai know it." Gossip could be extremely diverting even for a man, especially when it was about two things; women or war. It would have been a grave mistake to be heard and so he continued in undertone.
"For instance the Hatake clan, those mercenaries and their leader the Lightning Prince, he knows some scary stuff. They say his blade burns deep blue as the ocean, and its touch does not draw your blood, but like thousands of bolts your skin and insides are simply…cooked! And then bam you're dead!"
Tsunade jumped with impressed cry, her palm resting upon her ribcage as if wishing to keep her heart in its place. There was a slight ascension of crimson color visiting her face the longer she speculated about the Lightning Prince's character.
"Perhaps that is why the King personally chose him for the dirty works…" Jiraiya added on a leisure tone while his mischievous eyes sought signs within hers. "There are so many rumors in the village. I wish you could hear them. You are missing a lot in here. Nobody speaks of the people of Konoha."
"Why is he called Prince? Does he belong to the same class as I do?"
The young servant wished he did not have to reveal the truth, as truth sometimes was crueler than lie itself. "No, but some people consider him their leader…Sometimes they prefer him to your father because he understands them…Because he is one of them. You are all royals…And your father has to make hard decisions which might not serve everyone's benefit." Thus, he wished to ease the words uttered with a less hurtful explanation of things, of which she must have already known.
"Oh…." Her eyes traveled upon the stone ground and a long, deep sigh was drawn from her lungs.
"I already heard some things, of the War of Creation, and how my father fought… But I am certain these are all simply accusations! My father is a great person, he is kind but he is iron-handed when it comes to ruling. Don't you agree?" As if seeking self-justification in the sight of him, eagerly she canvassed his every feature hoping she would be indeed right.
"I thought you already forgot what I said about the Three Great Swords!" He spoke with a weary groan of reluctance. Sometimes he was beyond certain he spoke too much. It was indeed hard to keep things from her, for she was his only friend in the Court, and he wished more than anything to share the striking theories that circulated in the village.
"Well…My mama says it is true, she can still see those beasts at night… And she also says that your father and uncle really impressed the ladies in the battle with their fighting skills. Perhaps after all, the swords mean something else than blade…Now that I am thinking about it….It might be the most precious possession of a man's body…"
"Oh just cut your nonsense!" Tsunade rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Who has the third Great Sword?"
"Me…" Jiraiya flashed a smirk yet it was an ephemerous joke he spoke, for he received a nudge in the ribs. His attempts to present himself as a man of many talents seemed to be futile at this point. He recruited his strength once more and regained his lively tone. "It belongs to General Madara. It was the three of them who founded Konoha, after all. Well, General Tobirama was not so much around, maybe he was chasing skirts. I wonder why they never tell you anything! I know more of your family than you do!"
Since it was indeed an abnormal case to know nothing of her own clan, to not be aware of the slightest about the secrets and truths, Tsunade sighed as his words sank in. "I am going to ask father right now!" Determined the young spirit was and her strong will guided her from the ground up on her feet.
Carefully, she fixed the heavy layers of garment of her robe, the royal kimono and the silk cloak draped around her shoulders, colored in dramatic visions of stark black and scarlet red. The floral pattern followed the curvaceous frame of her nymphal body, emphasizing her shape on the right places. She was a voluptuous feast for the eyes, even for those already engaged in love. The men of the Court quietly pondered among them if only she tasted the way she looked; if so, the first one savoring her would be doomed by the lusciously rattling chains of lust.
"No, Tsunade! Come back! I think it is a terrible idea!" Jiraiya shouted in sheer worry as the heiress rifled from the place, like a bullet shot from a gun.
The scented air surrounded the palace and the village, carrying the rich odor of flowers that's vapor blended together in perfect unison. The warm rays of the sun bathed the sight of man in soothing visions of gaiety as one looked upon the colorful canvas of Nature that sheepishly blanketed the world. The two ran upon the stone stairway and rushed past the main hallways. Servants jumped to each side to avoid stumbling into the royal and her faithful friend. Like lightning they hurried as if the matter was beyond the question of life and death.
Meanwhile...
Hashirama sat upon the Dragon Throne in austere comportment, with a mind benumbed by the perpetual conflict within the Court. The throne, upon which he seated, was a great, three-leaved affair that emphasized the ruler's supreme authority and significance.
Over the ample seat within its center, two great wings spread off from the central division with a high reredos. Along the top, lay and leered dragons sculpted of gold, each one swinging the scaly horror of his folded tail toward the central seat, with heads projecting outward in the air on a severe, ominous manner. Below the King's feet lay seven steps bordered by lit lanterns.
Severe Hashirama's gaze was as he looked upon the officials in front of him, his words gathered before he spoke them. "Tax Minister…"
Lord Shikaku obeyed to the summons of the King and so he stepped forward, upon the edge of the crimson rug that reached from the throne to the sliding doors of the entrance of the Hall. It was forbidden to walk upon the costly material for the Court, and so the governors stood on each side of the silk carpet during discussions. "Yes, Your Highness." His voice was deep an coarse, the same will of fire darkening his large orbs.
"Did I not command you to reintroduce the tax reform bill?"
"Sir…If you change the law overnight, the burden on landowners will become unbearable. Do not discriminate them, they are your loyal subjects, too." Demurely he ventured to reply as his gaze traveled upon the King's face. His boldness was not rewarded, yet Shikaku stood firm for his beliefs.
It was not yet time to submerge into extreme measures for the kingdom was in the shoes of a child and there was yet progress to achieve.
"Taxing ten bags of rice for those who own ten patches of rice paddy and one bag of those who own only one, how is that discrimination?" The King asked and so his question was presently answered.
"We allow our lands to be used by other nations, Sir. Sunagakure is already in severe debt with us, if you want to force this law on our people, you must do the same to other nations' as well."
"One of our prisoners is the magistrate of Konoha, who extorted money from the commoners. The officials who took bribes from him, and those who took bribes from those officials….I shall hear all their names. Which of you can swear that he didn't receive from that man? Tax Minister!"
Lord Shikaku stepped forward once more. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"Those who abuse King's tribute for usury shall be punished severely."
"As His Majesty orders." The raven-crowned official bowed and returned to his place; albeit he did not bat his eyes upon the one in front of him, he knew well about Lord Danzo's nasty affairs in relation to this sensitive subject. Traitors resided among the four walls of the palace, and it was yet burdensome to find those in time.
The Minister of Interior Affairs was no different from those longing for the sweet taste of treachery, when the amount of money for their crimes could be weighed in kilograms. While people starved for natural nourishments, creatures like him ceased their hunger by the smell of gold.
"Justice Minister."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Lord Homura stepped forward.
"Have all their magistrate open their repositories and return all rice and linen back to the people. I command my trusted Council to have uniform land and tax law enforced immediately that refers to every landowner, our people or foreigners included. Anyone that obstructs the execution of this decree shall be punished with utmost severity."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Father!" The doors were thrown open and the heavenly frame of the heiress bathed the rigid mind of the Court in luscious visions. Lord Shikaku cleared his throat in puzzled response to the lady's appearance.
He only wished his son was a little older, only to make him the subject of marriage. Shikamaru was only two years old, yet deep inside, his father hoped he would grow as a mushroom before it was too late.
"This is not the time, Tsunade." Hashirama rose from his chair, and albeit he was supposed to scold the child, his heart never led him in such direction.
Jiraiya stopped at the entrance and before being caught, unnoticed he fled from the scene.
The young angel bowed in evident shame plastering upon her face and politely she remained until she was allowed to lean back up. "I apologize….I did not know…I must have forgotten…I apologize, father." Humble she was and amidst rushed apologies she too hastened from the place. Halted she was not, luckily, for she would have possibly sunk under the earth in embarrassment if her father directed any further words to her in that very moment.
Hashirama drew a deep, burdened sigh from the back of his throat and motioned with his hand to the Court to dissolve. Everyone left except Lord Madara, his most trusted General. "Your speech stood on solid ground. You shan't be afraid of the reaction of the people."
"That is not what worries me, Madara-sama." Hashirama replied as he fixed the garment of his long cloak. His eyes spoke of deeply rooted concern for the one most treasured to him.
"Your daughter?" The dark-crowned warrior looked upon his friend. Friend he was not, for the handsome features of the samurai were mere disguise of his cruelty.
He had eyes sharp as a hawk's, and a character venomous as a viper's. He was the man of wicked games and profoundly he enjoyed the one he played with the King. "You have mentioned me before she is to be wedded when she turns 18."
"Yes…But no one I found fitting for her. You do know she needs to be looked after…I couldn't possibly bear seeing her suffer because of our crime…" He spoke in hushed and uneasy tone for his spirit was tainted in strokes of heavy remorse.
"There is only one month left and she is to be an adult by rules. She is too pure; I kept her on a short leash. She fantastically associates things with every-day events, she dreams like her mother and that is more than alarming. She needs to stay here and never leave this place."
"In that case, I shall offer myself to marry her. I know your family better than anyone and we have done things nobody dares dream of. I can take care of her."
"You are twice her age, Madara-sama…." Hashirama began as another sigh followed his loud speculations. "However….You are right." He said with eyebrows furrowed together in deep contemplation. "I will talk to Tobirama, when he returns."
"He doesn't trust me the way you do, that is clear even to me." The dark-crowned warrior responded calmly, his voice cool as the cold winter wind. "Nonetheless, I understand the necessity of that conversation."
Hashirama nodded sorrowfully. "I still believe we should have told her the truth sooner. Not about what we have done…That shan't ever be found out…" He shuddered at the memory that had lingered hideously in the back of his mind—all the more hideous for it was so secret.
"You mean her father, don't you?"
"Yes. I wish she was mine. I loved her mother more than anyone. What has happened was…" There was an alien pause of stillness between his words. For a brief moment the King's spirit weighed a hundred tons of guilt for the past was darker than certain shadows of the day.
Lies and compromises, decisions and sacrifices that could not be undone, that could not be changed nor altered. The present became more bearable by them, at least, and that idea consoled his often agitated soul. "What matters is that I love her as my own. I hope she will understand." At last there was a shiver ran unnoticed through the King, who had moved very near, yet his feelings remained undeterred.
"Indeed." Madara nodded agreeing, while the sole thing he cared about was the seat not far from him. He would take it one day, and that day approached more rapidly than one assumed so. "You should go find her. She wanted to talk to you, after all."
"You are right." Hashirama nodded and with a light bow of polite gesture he walked out of the Hall.
The raven lord waited patiently until his opponent left and so he seated himself upon the soft material of the Dragon Throne. With crossed legs he sat, his long slim fingers exploring gracefully the ornated carvings of the royal chair. During such indulgence, his eyes slowly closed, and with a deep inhalation he filled his lungs with the scent of power. It was a rich, sickening odor of responsibilities and inevitable carnage, since bloodshed he coveted in every cell of him.
He shall bathe his katana in the flesh of his 'friend' and take what is rightfully his; the kingdom. Madara shivered at the mere thought as it slipped into his mind in forms of vivid visions. He could not quite decipher how effortlessly his plans succeeded and had the King wrapped around his finger from the very first time they encountered at the opposite sides of the river.
Hashirama had a warm heart, -he was too good, it drove him dizzy and disgusted. He loathed even more the fact that he was stronger than him; no matter how he put it, the ruler with the candid smile had immeasurable strength and stamina with what not even the evil lord could compete.
If only his last trickery of killing Tobirama on the battlefield was successful, he would be one step closer to his prize. If only…
"You should get off that chair before someone notices you." Presently spoke a voice familiar to the lord.
"Orochimaru." Madara frowned with a light change of his features. The saturnine visage followed his every move as he got off the throne and appeared in front of his accomplice. "Do you have news of the other Senju?"
"Your plan to advise the King to send his Elite troops to defend the border was rather cunning, I must say." The serpent-like creature released a macabre chuckle as he then resumed. "I made sure he would not return. Do not worry."
"Very well, then. We shall proceed to the next step, in this case."
Meanwhile...
The vanishing echoes of a loud thud and lingering cry lured the King past the main hallway, right to his daughter's chamber. Ever so cautious he was as he stepped in, and at the casual inspection of her room it seemed rather deserted. "Tsunade?"
Deliberate he was in motions as he walked around and by degree he began to detect the presence sought so dearly in a clearer fashion. The child lay upon the ground amidst pillows and scrolls, as if looking for something so vigorously before vertigo claiming her consciousness. With stability lost, she fell against the ebony shelves and pulled everything with her.
Carefully he lifted her up and placed her upon the soft sheets of the futon. It was not the first time nor was the last, the King certain about the prevalence of the incident. Soon as he waited, there was a hint of motion of her hand which brought a single light of hope into his spirit.
More joyous he grew when the reason of his happiness opened her eyes and beheld him amidst weary blinks. "Father? What happened?"
"You swooned…" His answer was not surprising although her voice was tainted in remnants of profound disappointment. These accidents were too frequent, and she refused to be weak.
"Again?"
"Yes, child. What made you excited that could not wait?" He sat beside her upon the tender ground as he watched her every motion.
"I apologize, father…Interrupting you was so childish of mine… I am soon to be 18, and yet I tend to behave so immaturely…"
"You are just like your mother, lively and happy. I am only thankful for that. So speak now, what was the matter so urgent for you?"
"I wanted to ask….If you believe in magic?"
"Magic you say?" The King elevated his forehead into innumerable wrinkles as he stopped to ponder about the answer, if there was any he wished to unveil.
What to make of all this, of course he knew not. Curiosity was the inner work of the spirit; however he has done everything to make sure nothing would raise questions within her, especially not of these kinds.
The greatest care had been taken to preserve her seclusion which seemed to be in all vain. He could not concern her with the complexities of life; therefore his answer was of the same nature. "Such things do not exist. Everything you see is real, the rest is simply the trickery of mental illness. Of nonsense and imaginary foolishness."
Disappointed she was in the reaction of her father for the glow in his eyes did not match the sound of his mutterings.
"The spirit, in order to cause all the manifestations attributed to it, cannot be limited by any of the laws of matter; why is it extravagant to imagine bewitching things in shapes—or absences of shapes—which must for human spectators be utterly and appallingly 'unnamable'?" She began as she recruited her boldness and stood firm with her own opinion formed.
She then resumed as the King listened with keen attention. "'Common sense' in reflecting on these subjects,…" She then assured him with some warmth, "…was merely a stupid absence of imagination and mental flexibility."
As they spoke, the first strokes of twilight had slowly approached, but neither of them felt any wish to cease speaking.
Hashirama seemed unimpressed by her insistent arguments, and was very eager to refute them one by one, having that confidence in his own opinions which had doubtless caused his success as a ruler; whilst she was too sure of her ground to fear defeat.
The dusk fell without hesitation, and lights faintly gleamed in some of the distant windows, but they did not move from the silky surroundings of the futon.
Their seat upon the several layers of such exquisite material was very comfortable, and she knew that for once she was able to engage herself in such passionate conversation with her father; something that could not happen so commonly for the King was always too busy with the duties of a royal.
"And what about the War you fought?" I was told your swords are special and that there was a giant dragon that brought the luck upon us…" There was a ceaseless interest in her voice that shackled the King from keeping his rigid countenance as they spoke.
"Who told you that?!" The likelihood of her going to discover every rumor her mind was filled with, grew more menacing the longer he denied them. With a deep, drawn sigh his gaze rested upon her faultless visage and syllables of great tales rolled down his tongue.
He granted, for the sake of argument that some unnatural monsters might had really existed, but reminded her that even the most morbid perversion of Nature need not be unnamable or scientifically indescribable.
The heiress admired his clearness and persistence that she too identified in her own character, and added some further revelations she had collected from Jiraiya who collected it among the old people of the village.
Those later spectral legends, she made plain, related to monstrous apparitions more frightful than anything organic could be; apparitions of gigantic bestial forms with different number of tails sometimes visible and sometimes only tangible, which floated about on moonless nights and haunted the world since the world has been shared among the Five Great Nations.
"Who tells you these things, child?" His clear, practical, and logical intellect sounded through his voice as he spoke ever so calmly. "Your mind is being filled with the wrong ideas about life."
"Well…Does it matter? Can you tell me I am wrong? And the jutsu?" She provoked further answers from the elder who by now seemed puzzled by her unwanted knowledge of certain horrible things of Nature.
"The Jutsu?" He repeated as if not once in his life he had the word came up to his ears, as if not once in his life he had encountered the true meaning of the short utterance of it.
"Yes, father! Techniques of the mesmerizing kind that only people with special spirit can do! Can you do jutsu father? Can uncle Tobirama do them? Are you afraid of the Hatake clan because their leader can perform it too?"
Convulsions of agitation seized her spirit as she was on the verge of crying; invisible tears bathed her eyes for the more refusal her questions met, the clearer it became she knew nothing of the world, she was dumb as a parrot, repeating only that was told to her.
"You have to stop listening to these nonsenses, Tsunade! This is beyond madness!" He fumed as he spoke but not because he was upset with her but because he feared for the sole heir of the throne dearly; the second she found out the truth, she shan't be protected from the sinister fate she was cursed with. The cruel predictions he himself caused in order to restore peace in the Land of Fire.
As he remained speaking, she had to face the simple truth; with him, all things and feelings had fixed dimensions, properties, causes, and effects; and although he vaguely knew that the mind sometimes held visions and sensations of far less geometrical, classifiable, and workable nature, he believed himself justified by drawing an arbitrary line and ruling out of court all that cannot be experienced and understood by the average villager. Besides, he was almost sure that nothing can be really 'unnamable'. It didn't sound sensible to him.
Though she well realised the futility of imaginative and metaphysical arguments against the complacency of the King, something in the scene of this afternoon colloquy moved her to more than usual contentiousness. Jiraiya was always eager to tell these tales to her, she would go after all that was told and find out what was true, indeed.
"I have to check twice who you encounter during your classes. You are supposed to learn everything a young woman of your age must, for soon you are to be betrothed. General Madara will fear for the sanity of your mind once you speak such things instead of tending your chores. Do you know how to sew? How to cook? How to sing? Did you learn everything I ordered you to?"
"Yes but…."
"Until you perfect everything, I don't want to hear more of your theories. You will be ridiculed if anyone hears you, Tsunade. That is why I cannot possibly consider you leaving this palace. What would happen if you opened your mouth among the people? They would think you are insane, child."
"But I…I healed…I…" She began yet it seemed her voice was stuck in her throat; she whispered and muttered and desperately she wished to bring sound into the shallow noises, yet there was nothing but the burning sensation of betrayal. For she felt betrayed, indeed.
"Rest, Tsunade. We have spoken too much; time has passed above our heads as you can see." He offered a warm smile upon his fatigued face and stroked her cheek. "Have a good night, child. I will see you tomorrow after the Discussion." At last he spoke and rose from the ground, his steps hastened with the burdensome urge of remorse. All he did was lie to her, and so did each and every member of the Court. She did not know who she was, what she was, nor had the slightest idea of her parents. Everything was for her sake; he consoled his spirit as he walked away. Everything was for her sake.
Absurdly careless those became who were moved by certain emotions of tremendous intensity. She could not think clearly anymore, for it would have contained some sort of common sense she had gradually lost the longer the discussion lasted. She never once questioned her father's thoughts from motives of respect and love, yet in this moment she felt she could not believe him any longer. Observantly, she glanced around and quietly she called out. "Jiraiya! I know you are around. Come out!"
Of course he was. The youngster stepped out of the Cherrywood closet and hurriedly fixed his countenance. "How did you know I was here?"
"You always hide there, besides, there is no other place in where you would fit." She rose from the ground and stepped to him decidedly. "Give me your clothes. I am going to sneak out and find out the truth myself."
"Wha-…?" Jiraiya's astonishment was greater than the walls of China and his cheeks once more betrayed his embarrassment. Did he shave properly today? Did he apply enough incense to smell pleasant? He must have sweated too much during the time of hiding, what if….
He could speculate not any longer as the heiress began to undress in front of him. Hesitating profoundly to turn or not, he rapidly turned his gaze away and followed the strict command of the royal. "You do not want me to wear your dress, do you?"
"It is exactly what I want, Jiraiya." She began as deliberately she reached for the garments of his robe. "You will stay here and pretend to be sleeping. I will be back by dawn, hopefully."
"Hopefully?!" The idea of hope scared him to no end, for it held the possibility of having to be caught in her garments which would further other unnecessary accusations. He had no choice, although, had he?
"All right, how do I look?" Her slim fingers gathered her long silky hair in a bun as questioningly she met his gaze.
"You are beautiful as always." Jiraiya answered while he could have been the notion of ridiculousness.
"Thank you." With a candid smile offered she left him standing there in her royal garments, the young man frozen to the ground of momentary bewitchment. "Take care Tsunade…Don't do anything stupid…" He sighed and he sighed with the purest worry of a man's heart for the one he loved.