Rating: Eventually M (probably) but this chapter is T
Words: 1600
Pairing: Jiraiya/Tsunade
Warnings: Drinking (probably underage), angst, death, sadness, you know, the usual . . .
Summary: So this idea has been in my head for months (and written for month too). I finally got around to editing the first of what I think will be eight vignettes. A lot of this is already written, but I have no idea if this ship would interest any of my readers as it's not my norm. Either way, I adore this pairing so here it is.
Rain fell in lazy patterns across the ground, dampening the earth and driving most people indoors as night fell. Moonlight peeked fitfully between the heavy clouds as Jiraiya darted from shadow to shadow, eyes scanning faces to avoid running into anyone who knew him. Sarutobi-sensei should have been occupied with other matters, but if he caught Jiraiya with two bottles of alcohol clinking beneath his shirt, the man would be insufferable. Sarutobi's lectures on shinobi vices were legendary.
Jiraiya had filched the bottles of cheap sake while flirting with a woman twice his age. He hadn't exactly lied, she really did have beautiful eyes, but the alcohol had been his objective from the beginning. When she'd blushed and turned away to hide her face, he had tucked the sake inside his shirt, then continued his shameless flattery. Before the woman could notice what happened, he made a quick exit, leaving a handful of money where the bottles had been.
Thunder rumbled distantly, and Jiraiya turned his eyes to the sky with a sigh. This could be a monumentally bad idea, but he determined to see it through. If he ended up in the infirmary for his efforts, well, it wouldn't be the first time. It had been more of a formality, checking Tsunade's familiar haunts, she had gone exactly where Jiraiya expected her to.
Hesitating in a puddle of moonlight outside the a house in the Senju complex, Jiraiya combed through his unruly white hair. He didn't fool himself into believing that he wouldn't be intruding on Tsunade's grief, but she needed someone to be there for her. Jiraiya recalled the way that she'd thrown herself into his arms with a sob when Sarutobi pulled the blanket back. The man had tried to break the news to her gently, but Orochimaru blurted out the obvious so coldly that Jiraiya wanted to slug him. The boy didn't understand human emotions, and he'd made things worse. Tsunade fled, and when Jiraiya started after her, Sarutobi caught his wrist, encouraging him to give her time.
Jiraiya had done so, for the past three hours. Padding up to the closest window, he peered inside and found the room empty despite the light. Frowning, he moved to the front door and knocked. Three minutes of silence ticked by as he stood in the rain, wondering if he should go home and call it a night. Determined to be there whether she wanted him or not, Jiraiya tried the door, and found it unlocked. Pushing it open, he called out Tsunade's name as he kicked his sandals off. When no one answered, he waded deeper in the darkness. "Tsunade?"
"Go away, Jiraiya." The muffled cry echoed from the back of the house. Edging toward it, Jiraiya realized the sound had come not from Tsunade's room, but Nawaki's. Though he should have expected it, the knowledge made his heart clench inside his chest.
"I'm coming in," Jiraiya announced, pushing the door open. Something flew at his head, a stuffed animal perhaps, but he ducked it easily. Tsunade sat on the bed, a pillow hugged to her chest. Jiraiya tried a different approach. "You shouldn't be alone tonight."
Honey eyes rimmed in red turned toward Jiraiya as tracks of silver spilled down Tsunade's cheeks. "Why does it matter? I'm going to be alone every night from now on."
"You won't be." Jiraiya settled beside Tsunade on the bed. He didn't sit so close that their legs touched, but near enough to be in easy range if she sought his comfort again. "You still have me, old man Sarutobi, and Orochimaru."
Tsunade stiffened at the final name, and Jiraiya caught himself too late. Of course she didn't want to think about the man who had delivered the news of Nawaki's death with a glint of curiosity in his dark eyes. Sensing that he was losing control of the situation, Jiraiya swapped tactics. "Two lies, one truth," he said, fighting to keep his voice light.
"I don't feel like playing games right now," Tsunade mumbled, turning away.
Jiraiya hadn't expected Tsunade to be diverted by the game they'd played years ago as genin. It had started as a training exercise where someone revealed one truth and two lies about themselves, and the others had to determine which was which. Sarutobi had started the game, and it had taken the three teammates two weeks to confirm that the man had a four inch scar across his back. That statement had been Tsunade's to investigate. Orochimaru had been tasked with learning the color of Sarutobi's cat's eyes, and Jiraiya the type of tobacco the man smoked.
Pulling himself back to the present, Jiraiya continued. "I'll go first: the rain is finally letting up, I came here to play games, and I brought sake."
The steady drumming against the window proved the first statement to be a lie immediately, and the idea that Jiraiya would play games at a time like this was ludicrous. Tsunade tipped her head to the side, obviously considering the final option. The pair had discussed getting drunk half a dozen times, but to Jiraiya's knowledge, neither had followed through. Without waiting for Tsunade make her guess, Jiraiya jingled the bottles against each other.
"How did you get them?" Tsunade watched him place them on the nightstand.
"My charm," Jiraiya laughed, trying to ease some of his teammate's heartache. He hadn't expected the ploy to work, and it didn't. If anything, Tsunade shrank into herself more. Reaching out, he touched her shoulder. "If you'd rather I go, I will, but, I don't think you should be here alone tonight."
Releasing a half sob, half huff from under her breath, Tsunade turned toward Jiraiya. "If I let you stay, will you please shut up?"
Jiraiya squeezed her shoulder and nodded. "As long as you let me stay."
For several moments, only the growl of thunder and the pattering of the rain filled the silence. Then, Tsunade buried her face in the pillow with a sob. The noise grew until her entire body shook with grief. As much as he wanted to help, Jiraiya held to his promise, and his silence. He settled for awkwardly rubbing Tsunade's back until she batted his hands away.
"I don't need your pity," Tsunade mumbled, voice cracking at the edges. Pushing herself into a sitting position, she reached for the two bottles that Jiraiya had brought. Holding one in her hand, she offered the other to him. "What's one more vice?"
Tsunade chuckled bitterly and tipped the bottle back for a drink, then promptly spit most of the liquid on Jiraiya. She sputtered around the burn of alcohol. "It tastes awful. Are you sure this is right?"
"It can't be that bad." Jiraiya laughed, then mimicked her movement. Fire spiraled through his chest, settling in his stomach like a boulder. Rather than dwelling on the fact that his lips were numb, he took a second drink, hoping that a companion would keep the first one down.
Tsunade watched him suspiciously, and Jiraiya forced a smile. "The second drink is easier," he lied.
As it turned out, the fifth drink was the easier one. By then, the liquid had numbed Jiraiya's throat so that it no longer tasted like week old sweat. A pleasant buzz permeated his entire body, suffusing heat to his face. The edges of the room softened, details blurring indistinctly, as Tsunade followed him into the warm oblivion. He hadn't expected the way that the sake erased the ache in his chest, and dulled the hurt in Tsunade's eyes.
"Are you sure this was a good idea?" Tsunade took another swig of the drink and screwed her eyes shut against the aftertaste.
"Of course. Don't you feel better?' Jiraiya leaned against the wall, stretching his legs in front of him on the bed. They felt heavier than usual, unwieldy.
Tsunade lifted her thin shoulders in a shrug. She swirled the bottle in a lazy circle, then turned the entire thing up to finish it. Jiraiya expected her to come up sputtering, but she simply blinked a couple of times like she couldn't quite make out his face, then she carefully placed the bottle back on the nightstand and sighed.
"I don't know if this better," Tsunade confessed, slurring some her words. Jiraiya suppressed the urge to laugh when he saw the look in her eyes. Tears filled them suddenly, and Tsunade drew a trembling breath as she leaned into Jiraiya.
Closing an arm around Tsunade's shoulder, Jiraiya pulled her against his chest. She went unresistingly. The alcohol that had lightened his mood seemed to have had the opposite effect on her. Tsunade's next breath came out as a broken sob, and her hands fisted against his back, tears running warm into his shirt. Though not even he believed the lie of his words, Jiraiya mumbled that everything things would be okay eventually.
Tucking Tsunade's head beneath his chin, Jiraiya exhaled. Her body was distractingly soft and warm where it leaned against his, like it belonged there, but he forced himself to focus on something else. Eventually, her cries grew fainter, then stopped all together but for the quiet snuffling of her breath. Assuming she must be exhausted, Jiraiya laid Tsunade down on the bed and moved to stand when she caught his hand.
Jiraiya made a questioning noise in the back of his throat. "I'm glad you checked on me," Tsunade mumbled, fatigue and intoxication clouding her voice. "Will you stay with me?"
Jiraiya answered by lying down on the bed folding her in his arms. "For as long as you want me."