Story Title: The Unsaid
Rated: PG-13
Pairing: Jiraiya/Tsunade, implied Naruto/Sasuke
Disclaimer: Naruto © Kishimoto Masashi
Summary: Not for the first time, Jiraiya wonders if he loves her.
Steve's Notes: I hate canon.
Warnings: Stubborness?
Jiraiya leans back in the chair, giving only half of his attention to the ANBU captain's report on the mission—a total waste of time, his veteran mind whispers, to send anyone but Naruto after that mislead Uchiha Sasuke. Tsunade knows this too, of course, but she still tries by sending everyone but him, afraid that she'll lose the only one worthy of calling himself the Rokudaime. Jiraiya thinks that she worries too much and decides that his lecherous activities can wait until he's smoothed her ruffled feathers; he chuckles as he consciously puts her well being before his entertainment, something he believes he has been doing a lot lately—something that he has always done.
"Do you have another headache?" Jiraiya asks once the other man leaves with a respectful bow, the door shutting behind him with a sharp click. Tsunade winces and she presses a fist to her temple. "I'll get your pills if you want me to."
Tsunade waves a hand at him, her perfect, smooth hand. "No thank you Jiraiya," she sighs and the illusion of being young wavers. The white-haired sannin thinks she is vain this way, struggling to keep up her youthful beauty when she is so tired and stressed that she can barely stay awake. "I already took some before you came."
"Ah." Jiraiya leans back further in his chair, the wooden legs creaking underneath his weight. It takes some time for the right words to form in his head; his once-teammate can be so fickle sometimes and talking to her about her appearance is often a gamble. "You should remove it you know," he says slowly, his eyebrows furrowed as she looks at him. "I'm the only one here."
Tsunade purses her lips. She has always had bad luck, but Jiraiya has always had worse luck. "I'm not the woman I was twenty years ago Jiraiya. You'll be disappointed by what you see."
"I don't care." Jiraiya replies truthfully, shrugging one shoulder. He finds it strange that he really doesn't mind; Tsunade will always be beautiful, even if she does possess liver spots and gray hairs. Not for the first time, the man wonders if he loves her. "Nobody is perfect you know."
"I know that." Tsunade's lips virtually disappear. "But I'm not going to remove it, not even for you."
It stings, as it always does, but Jiraiya is a surprisingly patient man. He shrugs again as if it doesn't matter to him; Tsunade's grip on her pen tightens. "Well then," he says slowly, "—I'll be going. You know where to find me if you need me." He gets off the chair and goes to the door, passing by Tsunade's desk to do so. He tries to picture her with crow's feet and worry lines around her mouth; she is strangely attractive even then, far more mature than world-weary. His insides ache as he opens the door, a familiar twisting of his guts and bottled emotions. "And Tsunade?"
"Yes?" she snaps, as though expecting another reference about her vanity.
"You should send Naruto after Sasuke," Jiraiya chides gently before leaving. The unsaid before it's too late hangs heavily between them, reminding them of what could have been, what should have been, if they hadn't waited. "They need each other more than you think they do.
.end.