It's late afternoon, and the buildings of Konoha are gilded with warm light as the sun descends towards the horizon. There's a pleasant breeze rushing up and down the streets, making the trees lining the boulevards rustle. And the thing that Sasuke finds truly beautiful is the chatter of conversation: the drone of dozens, of hundreds of people talking to each other.
Jiraiya's walking next to him, and the white-haired man has pulled the hood of his heavy traveling cloak over his head to obscure his features.
"Hiding from someone?" Sasuke asks. "Do they hate you here, or something?"
"I just… would prefer that people not see me here," Jiraiya says, casting a wary glance in the direction of the women's bathhouse down the street. Sasuke snorts with amusement as he follows the other man's gaze.
"You're ridiculous," Sasuke says, shaking his head.
"You can't say anything about it," Jiraiya says, crossing his arms stiffly. "You're wearing that ugly mask."
"Ugly? I thought it looked kinda good," Sasuke says. He self-consciously pulls the hood of his own cloak up. "Whatever. Shut up, old man."
"I'm not old!"
"You're old, perverted, and you smell terrible."
"Terrible?" Jiraiya gasps. "That's the aroma of sage oil!"
"It's fucking disgusting, that's what it is. You need to find a bathhouse."
"I'm banned from most of them," Jiraiya says with a mournful note in his voice.
"Of course you are," Sasuke says with a sigh.
"You have no idea where we are, do you?" Itachi asks mildly. Shisui scoffs, flashing him an affronted look.
"I know exactly where we are, for your information," Shisui says. He points to the nearest street sign. "Clearly, we're on Jasmine Street."
Itachi groans internally. Shisui had insisted that they visit a new dango shop that had just opened before they left on their next mission. Itachi had foolishly agreed. And now, here they were, lost in the Merchant's Quarter of Konoha.
"It's around here somewhere," Shisui mutters to himself. He grabs Itachi's hand and pulls, yanking Itachi down the street as he wanders off in a new direction. And Itachi can't help but chuckle softly.
"We're lost, Shisui," he says.
"You may be lost," Shisui sniffs, continuing to drag Itachi with him. "I know exactly where we're headed."
They turn a street corner, and then there's a flash of black clothing and jolt of pain as Shisui and Itachi slam into someone. The stranger stumbles back and falls flat on his back.
"Oops," Shisui says sheepishly, and the smile slips off of Itachi's face.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, mortified, as he helps the stranger up. The stranger's face is covered with a black mask, featureless except for two eye-holes. The man stiffens suddenly as a single dark eye meets Itachi's gaze.
"It's not your fault. My companion is rather clumsy," a voice says. Itachi looks up to see an older man with a hood obscuring his face, and long white hair peeking out from under the cowl.
"I'm not clumsy, and I'm fine," the masked stranger growls at the older man, yanking his arm out of Itachi's hands and brushing himself off. He's looking straight at the ground now, stepping away from Itachi. And that voice—
The stranger's voice is familiar. It's a voice that Itachi knows, but he can't quite place it. But then Shisui's grabbing his hand again, and Itachi's being pulled away.
"Sorry!" Shisui yells over his shoulder at the two strangers. He's ecstatic, pointing at something down the street. "Look! It's right there! Told you we weren't lost!"
When Itachi turns to find the stranger again, he and his companion are nowhere to be seen.
"Are you alright?" Jiraiya says, laughing. "You weren't lying about not being a ninja. The way you fell flat on your ass-"
"Shut up," Sasuke says, grabbing Jiraiya and pulling him into a side alley. His face is hot, and his heart is racing, because he's just seen someone he hasn't seen in years. He's known for a couple days that this person is alive and well, but it's another thing to have Itachi grab him by the arm and help him up.
He'd frozen as he stared at Itachi's face with one eye. He'd frozen as he took in gentle brown eyes and a concerned frown. He'd frozen as Itachi had mumbled an apology, because the last time he'd heard that voice—
I'm so sorry, Sasuke. This is it.
Just know, whatever you do, I will love you always.
His face is so hot, and he's having trouble breathing. Sasuke rips off the mask, fighting back the unshed tears that sting his eyes. His hands are shaking, knuckles pale as he grips the mask hard.
"Wait," Jiraiya says, lowering his hood. "What's wrong?"
There's no reply, because Sasuke can barely breathe, let alone speak. His knees feel weak, so he pushes his back against the brick wall of the alley and slides down to the ground. For a long moment, he sits there with his head in his hands.
"Juugo?" Jiraiya says, reaching out to touch him. Sasuke's head snaps up at the foreign touch, an iron curtain slamming shut over his face.
"I'm fine," he says, slipping his mask back on. "I just needed a moment."
"Are you sure?" Jiraiya asks doubtfully. "What even happened?"
"I'm tired," Sasuke says smoothly, standing up. He strides out of the alley, and Jiraiya hastens to follow him.
"Are you going to meet with your family?" Jiraiya asks him, and Sasuke grits his teeth.
"No. It's late right now. I can do that later," he says. He glances at Jiraiya out of the corner of his eye. "Do you have any family or friends you're staying with?"
"Just my godson. He's a little menace," Jiraiya says, grinning. Sasuke swallows nervously, not wanting to even think about seeing Naruto right now.
"Why don't we just get a room at an inn tonight? You can finish interviewing me, and then we can go our separate ways?" Sasuke suggests. Jiraiya pouts.
"Our separate ways? I thought I was growing on you," he says. Sasuke snorts with amusement.
"As if," he replies. "You'll still see me around in the village."
Jiraiya seems interested in that, tapping his chin thoughtfully with the end of his pen.
"Ok, fine. We can find an inn for the night. Are you paying?" Jiraiya asks hopefully.
"Of course not."