Disclaimer: all characters, as well as the universe they inhabit, are intelectual property of Masashi Kishimoto.
AN - This was inspired by Billie Holiday's song 'Some Other Spring' (although 'Ill Be Seeing You' also played a vital part), and hopefully represents an accurate portrayal of Tsunade/Jiraiya relationship. (to be completely honest, I just wanted to write anything with this title) :P
Set in their youth.
Some Other Spring
It felt good to be back home, Jiraiya thought. Even if home itself couldn't escape the shadow of war.
Wherever he looked, the gaze fell on widows and orphans. The war showed in the way people walked, in empty stores and silence.
As he dragged through Konoha streets, hands deep in his pockets, Jiraiya's eyes skimmed over barren shop-windows and pealing paint. This was not the village he had hoped to find. In the midst of battling, he chose to remember a different Konoha – the one bustling with life from his childhood. It was that Konoha he had looked forward to.
'Take it as it is or leave it.' He sighed. His gaze wandered off to the Hokage Mountain, looking over the Leaf. Ablaze with the near-setting sun, it almost belonged to a scene of some other time, when he was still a messy-haired runt swearing to become Hokage after every training fiasco and every Tsunade's jest.
The small grin brought on by the memory faded as his eyes landed on her grandfather's carved bust.
It seemed such days could never repeat.
Turning his back on the First Hokage, Jiraiya kept thinking about his granddaughter.
Just like the rest of the village, she would make a sad sight. What was it? Only three months.
Three months were enough to stop weeping, but too short to stop mourning. He remembered how it was with Nawaki.
Back then, she at least had the impulse to move, to start a medical revolution, do something. But two deaths? Could Tsunade take two deaths?
Jiraiya didn't kid himself. With all her short temper and violent streak, she was soft on the inside. Under the shell, where only the two had access.
The young man sighed and scratched his chin. He wasn't good with mourners. And he would probably be terrible around Tsunade. He would probably say something untactful which would turn out cold or ridiculing. And the worst thing was that she wouldn't hit him. Not even glare.
Sunken Tsunade was what he feared most. Innumerably more than the furious one smashing her fist into his ribs.
But he was going to see her anyway. That was what friends did. And those who wished to be so much more.
„Jiraiya."
He blinked. The depressed vision he had in his mind differed so much from the woman standing in front of him that he didn't recognize her at once.
„Tsunade?" he muttered dumbly. „Orochimaru?" The long-haired pale jonin stepped from behind her.
„Hai, Tsunade and Orochimaru! Who else could it be?" the blonde woman frowned. „I hope your wits worked better on the mission."
She looked as usual. Her attire consisted of a light-grey sleeveless top she wore when off duty. Not black. She also sounded as usual, and Jiraiya could have almost been fooled. Her next sentence was a giveaway.
„Are you alright?" She gave him a quick glance-over, and her eye-brows creased with worry.
He rose his arms to show her he was still in one piece. „Fresh as a daisy."
Her concern seemed to pass in an instant. Tsunade shrugged and turned to leave. „If that's so you should have no problem finding your way to the Hokage Tower. Old Sarutobi-sensei's grown impatient."
She began walking away, and glanced over her shoulder after a few steps. „And Jiraiya... Nice to see you again", she beamed a smile.
Jiraiya approached his other teammate.
„Tsunade... She... What was that just now?"
„A well-rehearsed performance", a wheezy, slippery voice responded. Orochimaru's green eyes followed the retreating figure. „She has been acting like this for the last two months. Like nothing happened. But it did."
„Have you tried talking to her?"
„What is the point? She would change the subject."
Jiraiya scratched his chin, helplessly gazing at the corner behind which the young blonde woman disappeared. He didn't know what to make of Tsunade's behaviour, except that his instincts told him it wasn't healthy.
„Tsunade is not acting reasonably. You'll see for yourself," Orochimaru said.
„It began then already. A child could see that the wound was fatal, but she kept going at it. It's beautiful, really, how she tried to beat death." The pale-faced Jounin's voice turned plaintive, and Jiraiya's face scrunched in distaste. Something in Orochimaru's compassionate tone had triggered the reaction.
An hour later, Jiraiya was done with turning in his report. Sarutobi-sensei gave him permission to take a few days off to himself. Official missions were not going anywhere, so Jiraiya put his mind into a personal one. He was looking for Tsunade.
Just because Orochimaru didn't have the patience or will to give it a try didn't mean she wasn't in the need of a conversation. Jiraiya would try to offer her one, although he was never particularly good at such types of bonding.
Especially after what he had just found out.
In his search for Tsunade, the white-haired Sannin relied on the old paths of their Genin days. He crossed the old wooden bridge that led to the training area and paused in front of the post that informed passers-by they were standing in front of the Third Training Ground. With a lopsided smile, Jiraiya entered.
The place seemed frozen in time. Everything was at its place, including the three old stumps, whose wood was well-worn out with rope marks and kunai nicks. The only novelty was that the list of names engraved onto the Memorial Stone grew longer.
A gloved hand grazed over the coarse wood. How many hours had he spent on this training ground, getting beaten and bloody, bragging about achieving greatness? How much of those bruises were given to him by a snotty, flat-chested would-be kunoichi whose attention he constantly sought?
„Tsunade-chan! How about a date with the future Hokage?"
„Sure, tell me if you see one."
„Tsunade-chan! How about some taijutsu practice? One on one, eh?"
„Over your dead body, you little perv!"
„Tsunade-chan! Wanna go watch sakura petals falling?"
He remembered how long and critical her gaze had been as she checked his messy-haired figure out. Her shrug was almost as cold as the one today.
„Some other spring."
She remained out of reach, no matter what he said or did. He stopped trying after a while, if only for the appearances' sake.
And now her lover was dead, and her psyche shattered. A perfect opportunity for a comforting friend to enter the scene and gain her favour.
Jiraiya frowned.
He found her in the bar. From the way she blindly stared at her sake cup, it was easy to tell she was in one of her bad moods. Tsunade showed no sign of noticing he had sat beside her.
Finishing down his first order, Jiraiya spoke.
„How have you been, Tsunade?"
She side-glanced at him with slight disdain. „Fine."
„That's not what I've heard. Orochimaru told me about your last mission." Never removing his calm gaze from the shelves behind the bartender, Jiraiya sipped. Tsunade stiffened.
„He did, did he..."
Jiraiya turned towards her to see her properly. He noticed the crystal was back around her neck.
„You need to find a way to deal with it. Sarutobi can't keep you on light missions forever."
„I know that!" Her hand clasped around the cup, and some of the liquid spilt on the table. „I'm doing what I can", she murmured, absentmindedly wiping the small pool of sake with her sleeve.
„If you can't stand the sight of blood..."
„I said I'm doing what I can!" she interrupted him. „I'll get over it, just give me some time."
Jiraiya kept his next comment to himself. He watched the deep crease wrinkle the skin between honey-coloured eyes, and a troubled frown tug at the corners of her lips.
This was the time to say something thoughtful and profound, something wound-healing and hopeful. This was the time for mending Tsunade's broken heart, but there were no words available to succeed in the task, and if there were, they wouldn't come to him. There was nothing he could do to fix her.
He gave up for the time being, for the appearances' sake.
„Hey, Tsunade!"
She didn't dare meet his eyes.
„How about you, me and Orochimaru take a little break after this damn war is finished? Maybe visit the seaside. I've always wanted to see strange places."
The lopsided grin was on, and Jiraiya hoped it could ease some of the tension. It seemed to work, for Tsunade relaxed a bit and smirked.
„Humph! Maybe some other time."
„Some other spring, huh?"
„What was that, I didn't catch it?"
„Nothing."
He paid her another drink.
She left the village later that year by herself, if you didn't count Dan's little niece. She didn't offer as much as a note of an explanation, but Jiraiya guessed the reasons. Among other things, she could never overcome her fear of blood, and spent her days shut in the village, away from the heat of the battle.
Among other things, once Orochimaru fled the village, there were no more Konoha Sannin.
As Jiraiya packed his own bags, he didn't consider chasing after either one of them. Not anymore. Perhaps visit Myoboku Mountain again, then see where the road would take him.
He knew he would cross paths with Orochimaru once more, but doubted that his next encounter with the Konoha's latest rogue would be a pleasant reunion. As for Tsunade, it would be troublesome – but he would see her at least once again in his life. It was a promise.
Maybe some other spring.