This And The World
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Jiraiya did not want to take this boy as his apprentice, all bright eyes, even brighter smiles and wild cornflower blond hair. The waif is the very image of everything that he wants to forget and yet he knows that he would suffocate in his own guilt if he refused to take the child, so Jiraiya agrees, silently hating Minato for dying and hating himself even more for thinking it.
The boy is brilliant, "Naruto," he scowls, "I have a name you know." -and Jiraiya should know because he's the one who gave it to him.- He's brilliant in the way that is often mistaken for insanity. Minato was like that too, only he wasn't so damn obvious about it.
He's only obvious if you know what to look for, peel back the layers of orange cloth, and skin that never scars, and maybe open up his bones as well because nobody ever really looks hard enough to see what it is that he's made of.
Jiraiya ignores the whisper in his mind, and the blond ghost child sitting next to him and finishes the sake bottle instead.
He won't look hard enough either because if he does he knows that he'll be looking at Minato instead of his godchild.
Naruto takes two weeks to learn Rasengan, the jutsu of a kage, and then takes it even further until it could tear his body apart. "I have to be stronger." He says, but when he gives his reasons Jiraiya doesn't believe him.
He knows that Naruto is furious with him when he forces the boy to access the Kyuubi's tainted chakra until he loses his mind and will. Jiraiya has the scar over his sternum to prove it.
They both wear the traditional white kimonos to honour the Spiral Festival in Wave, but of the two of them only Jiraiya knows that the original tradition was to celebrate the fall of Whirlpool, the village of Naruto's dead ancestors. He resolves never to take the boy to the forgotten hidden city.
When they arrive back at the hotel Naruto sheds his clothes as fast as he sheds his skin, -He is unnervingly proficient at transformations.-
"I hate the colour white. It's the colour of death." Naruto explains, and this isn't much of an explanation at all. "Don't you know, it was the colour of the Yondaime's soul." There is something like hero worship and wistful bitterness in his expression and Jiraiya turns away.
He'll open the fine sake this evening.
When the boy turns fifteen Jiraiya offers to take him to one of the more distinguished pleasure houses.
"Pervert," the boy hisses, a blush staining his cheeks and he really shouldn't be this bashful about such things. Jiraiya has seen his female transformation enough times to know that. So instead they go to a bar in Tanuza City and drink more cups of expensive sake than Jiraiya thinks his protégé can handle.
The next week Naruto is experimenting with the theories of Hiraishin, and Jiraiya can't bring himself to be surprised when he appears in a flash of bright gold and breathless laughter. "One day I hope to walk with the gods." He doesn't say but Jiraiya hears it anyway.
They are the dead Yondaime Hokage's own words, and Jiraiya can only bury his face in his hands. They were both possessed by some damned martyr complex that seemed to be passed down through generations.
Jiraiya resolves to drink more sake until he stops looking at one and seeing the other.
Author's Note: Jiraiya is one of my favourite Naruto characters, hands-down. Kinda my take on some of his more melancholy thoughts regarding his godson.
