Softly Say Goodnight

-

AN: First, I'd like to apologize for how long it's taken me to get this chapter done. As with the previous one, I've started, re-started and scrapped the entire thing so many times that I got sick just thinking about it. And then, thanks be to the prodding of my friends and everyone who's reviewed, I decided that today was the day I was going to sit down and finish it, whether or not I liked it. Here's the result, whoo. Hugs, kisses and candy to everyone who's reviewed, it really makes my day.

Note; this chapter in particular has a lot of references to the play Jiraiya Goketsu Monogatari, which is where the characters of Orochimaru, Jiraiya and Tsunade originate from.

Special thanks to Nutmeg and Kuroikisei. Love you both!

-

The night before Orochimaru and Jiraiya leave on their mission, Tsunade stops by to see him. It's cold outside and it's been raining for hours, leaving the air with an earthen smell like a freshly dug grave. That in itself divulges memories of funerals too numerous to count and to painful to recall. How many people, how many casualties? And he's already forgotten their names. They couldn't have been that important anyways, but there are times when he forgets what color his mother's eyes were, or the sound of his father's laugh, or the delighted, high-pitched giggles of his sister.

And all the while that she sneaks in through a window and across his floor, he's thinking, I can hear the rain on the roof.

Tsunade crawls into bed beside him and immediately confiscates his blankets like they existed solely for her benefit, and she curls up on her side with one hand tucked under her chin. With her other hand, entirely unnecessarily, she reaches out and touches his cheek. "Wake up," she says, although she knows he already is. Sometimes, Tsunade says or does things that make it seem as if she's testing the water, waiting for an opportunity to jump in.

"You're an unusual houseguest," he tells her, not opening his eyes. He listens to the rain and basks in the warmth of the bed and Tsunade's body. She generates heat like a sun, yet the times he's been drawn to it and shunned by it are equal in number.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry." She doesn't sound sorry at all. In fact, she sounds rather smug, and he assumes it's because she was able to successfully disarm the traps littered about his apartment. The minutes tick away in silence, and by Tsunade's even breathing, Orochimaru starts to wonder if she's fallen asleep.

Tsunade has spent numerous nights in his bed, and it always manages to be innocent. Sometimes they talk and sometimes she cries and sometimes they don't say anything at all, and when he wakes up in the morning she's always gone. She had tried kissing him once; when they were a lot younger, and they privately agreed afterwards to never mention it to anyone ever again. About the time they both tipped their heads in the same direction and smashed their noses painfully together, they'd realized that it Wasn't Meant to Be. And although Jiraiya may tease him and other shinobi may sneer, Orochimaru knows he's not in love with Tsunade, and he knows that she is not in love with him.

In many ways, they're closer than he and Jiraiya, because Tsunade is smart and knows that things can go unsaid, whereas Jiraiya believes that everything worth thinking is also worth saying, never mind the trouble it gets him in.

Tsunade's voice, when finally she speaks, is subdued. To ply a cliché to the situation at hand, he can't help but think that this is it; this is the calm before the storm. This is the sky going green before a tornado touches down. This is the silence before a thunderclap. This is he and Tsunade and their twilight requiem.

"I brought you something," she ventures carefully, as if afraid her words could start an unwanted avalanche.

"Oh?"

"Mm. Yeah." She shifts on the bed, squirms until she's on her back instead of her side and produces a small, flat box, wrapped in stenciled paper. She hands the whole thing to him, along with an inkwell that alludes to the contents of the parcel. "It's nothing much," she says hastily, as he hesitates to take it.

Orochimaru doesn't reply, merely sits up in bed and flicks the light on with his tongue, seeing as how it's too far to reach with either hand or foot, and ninja are nothing if not resourceful. Tsunade makes a disgusted noise and he smirks at her in response.

"That's really gross, you freak," she chides as she sits up as well. She folds her long legs and makes his narrow bed wobble. "Well, go ahead and open it already."

He does so, and the little cherry wood box that the paper reveals is heavy in his hands, but expertly balanced. It looks expensive while its giver looks worried.

He opens it, to reveal a row of neat brushes made of badger-fur with short, stubby bristles. Beneath them, there are several layers of crisp rice paper, so fine and nearly-translucent that he's sure that if he held it up to the light, he could see through it.

Tsunade makes a noise, and Orochimaru clicks the box closed and glances at her.

"Don't go getting ideas!" she says warningly, but she's smiling. It's the fake sort of smile that he so hates to see on anyone's face. Humanity, as a whole, is comprised largely of liars. He doesn't see why his comrades should be different. "All this means it that you have no excuse to not-write to me, okay? The paper and ink and brushes were all made in Tea Country, so it's untraceable back to here in case somebody gets a hold of it."

He smiles at her, a little, which seems to fluster her.

"I got something for Jiraiya, too, but he's been weird since… well, since I mentioned his stupid clan stripes. I want to know what the hell's wrong with him, it's like he's sulking or something. He probably needs to get laid. I should find him a girl… except I think he's managed to insult or alienate every single one in the goddamned village."

Orochimaru knows very little of Jiraiya's history, because he's never cared to ask. When he was little, he assumed that everyone had a family like his own -loving mother, loving father, little sibling to protect, and that was that. By the time he was old enough to realize otherwise, asking others such personal information had become taboo. And with Jiraiya, well… anything he wants Orochimaru to know; he can just come out and say it.

What he does know was gleaned from the gossip of others, and from the few rare times when someone spoke unguardedly about the Hatake family. They'd been samurai, someone said once. Servants of the Daimyo of Earth Country. The stories from there seemed to diverge and become garbled, one said that a demon had attacked the Daimyo and the family had been driven out in disgrace. Others said that the Daimyo killed himself after being jilted by a lover. The basic gist of it was clear, however, and his shinobi-trained interrogation skills had sorted out the most pertinent information. Samurai. Disgraced.

Orochimaru doesn't really care about the other boy, but he does know that Jiraiya wouldn't want Tsunade knowing any of that, so he merely shrugs.

"Thank you."

That seems to snap the blonde girl out of a reverie, a waking dream of some sort or another, and she gives him a grateful look. "It was nothing, really. Just… look after Jiraiya, all right? I know that he's a clumsy idiot, and he's not as good as you, but… just…"

He re-opens the box and takes out a piece of paper and a brush, closes it yet again and reaches for the inkwell. With clear, proud strokes, he writes, Tsunade-hime. What would you do if I said I would let him die?

She leans across to see what he's written, likely expecting his name, or hers, or anyone's. A doodle, a scribble, something, anything, except what she actually sees.

She freezes, and takes a breath. Her fists clench, one in his blanket and the other against her thigh, and she bites her lip so hard he can smell but not see the blood that blossoms. And then she gestures for the brush, which he gives her gladly. She swirls it about the ink well and then daubs it across the page, writing, I'd have to ask who you are, because the Orochimaru I know wouldn't do that. She lifts her face and catches his eyes, and hesitates in handing the brush back to him. Her eyes are more scared now than worried.

Wouldn't it be funny… he begins, just as Tsunade starts to cough. He frowns over at her, annoyed at her tendency to dramatize and for ruining the moment, and she tries to wave him off, covering her mouth with her free hand.

Orochimaru slips his shirt off his shoulder so the sleeve dangles around his hand and bunches it up in his fingers before wiping at the flecks of blood on Tsunade's cheeks. She's pale beneath the mask of mortality, and her skin seems almost luminescent.

This time, when he kisses her, there is no awkwardness - only blood.

After that, she leaves without a word and shuts the light off on her way out. For a long time afterward Orochimaru lays on top of the blankets with his hands folded behind his head, and he listens to the rain on the roof. It sounds like the heartbeat of a dying world.

Tsunade does not sleep for the rest of the night, and she goes to see the Hokage at dawn. She sits outside his office, chews her fingernails and then the inside of her cheek, until a soft-spoken ANBU with a shock of red hair comes to collect her. "He thought you would have barged in by now," he says tonelessly, his voice a soft feminine alto.

Tsunade smiles, ducks around him and into the council room. The Sandaime Hokage is sitting there, flanked by his former teammates Koharu and Homura. The former offers a secret sort of smile; the latter merely adjusts his glasses and gives her a flat-lipped glower.

"Ah, Tsunade! Come in, come in. You should hear this." Sandaime waves her in and gestures at a chair.

"Sensei, this isn't-" she begins, just as Homura speaks, "Sarutobi, surely this can wait?"

Sandaime looks between his two teammates and then sighs, throws his hands up in the air. "She's here now. Would you have me throw her out of my office?"

Koharu glances sharply at both men, and her scowl holds an echo of reprimand. "Just because you're Hokage, Sarutobi-"

"Means I can do exactly what I want," he finishes for her with something of a flourish, as he signs his name on a sheet of paper in front of him. He hands it to her with a bit of a lopsided grin and she sighs, tucks a strand of brown hair behind one of her ears and takes it. She doesn't give further protest, and although Homura continues to frown, he does not gainsay Tsunade's presence again.

In front of them -kneeling on a convenient tatami mat- is a man with no forehead protector, although Tsunade thinks by the set of his shoulders and the way he seems to be aware of everything that he is in fact a shinobi.

"Sandaime-sama," the kneeling man begins uncertainly, after a covert glance to Tsunade. "Do you really want a child listening to this…?"

Sandaime gives the man a bit of a look, and leans forward. For someone so small, the aura he projects is extremely intimidating, and almost instinctively the kneeling man pushes himself back on his heels. "I understand. Forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive," Sandaime says genially as he rearranges himself more languidly in his chair. The hat, a sign of his station, is lopsided and skewed, but he pays it no attention. He looks drawn and weary, and there are more lines on his face than Tsunade remembers, and he's going gray at the temples. The effect is debonair, he truly looks the part, and yet she can remember times from her childhood when he'd looked anything but. A fool, through and through, that was how she'd thought of him. Now he looks the part of a leader, and wears its mantle without complaint. "Tsunade, sit down. Hiromaru, please start at the beginning."

She sinks into the chair he had indicated earlier, crosses her legs and listens intently for whatever little life lesson her sensei is trying to teach her here.

The man, Hiromaru, clears his throat, stands and places a hand over his heart. "The negotiations with Wind Country have not been successful. The diplomat and the emissary sent by our lord Daimyo have been officially missing for two weeks, but… three days ago, we received this." He pulls out an envelope and steps forward to hand it, not to Sandaime, but to Koharu. The woman takes it, unfolds it and wrinkles her nose. In the package lies a severed finger with a ring of office, Tsunade recognizes it as the official seal of the Daimyo's retainers.

Sandaime frowns grimly, wraps the finger back up in its gory little package and gestures for Tsunade to stand. "I want this analyzed, see if you can determine whether or not he was dead when the finger was removed." She nods and takes it, but she can't help but feel a little squeamish over the whole ordeal, which she finds silly. She's a medic nin, and she's been a medic-nin for years, but something about this whole scenario is making her skin crawl.

"The ambassadors from Wind showed up without a problem, and they got angry at the fact that we did not provide their counterparts for immediate negotiations. They had ninja with them, three of them. I… I am not certain of what happened, Sandaime-sama, but there was a fight. Everyone from their side was killed, and only one of our ninja escaped alive. And now the Kazekage is demanding that we surrender the survivor so he can be tried and executed."

Sandaime exhales heavily through his nose and reaches for his pipe. Koharu, without even looking at him, smacks his hand away.

"So," Homura begins, making a steeple of his hands. His dark eyes are intense and oddly intent, watching the messenger, who flinches. "What you are telling us is that the entire deal was staged, and they are trying to provoke us so that they feel justified in starting a war. Yes?"

Hiromaru frowns, but doesn't deny it. Homura leans back with a disgusted snort and he flicks a hand in a manner that indicates he's had enough of the entire affair. And, Tsunade reasons, he likely has. Her sensei has been Hokage for six years, and his teammates have been with him far longer than that. The political intrigue of the Kage and the Daimyo are not something Tsunade ever wants to be so intimately familiar with.

"We will have to hand over the survivor," Koharu says slowly, and Sandaime… twitches at her, a slight tick in his cheek and a rigidity of hand. She gives him a side-long glare and continues, "If we do not, you know what will happen. We cannot afford further conflict, especially not on the opposite frontier. The Kazekage has been envious of our land for years, and this war with Lightning Country has left us weak. Sarutobi, we cannot afford another war!" Her voice rises in pitch until it's almost a shout, and she slams a hand down on the desk hard enough to splinter the ancient wood.

Sandaime looks at her, and at her hand, and then he sighs again, takes off his hat and runs a hand through his hair. His hands are covered with the glove-mesh of his everyday shinobi attire. The hat captures his attention a while longer, at the brilliant red splashes that indicate the office it entails. After a moment of contemplation, he gingerly sets it back on his head and straightens it.

"…What's his name, this survivor?"

"Hagane Yuuta, Sandaime-sama."

The Hokage pushes his chair away from the ruined desk and stands, folds his arms behind his back and saunters over to the window. "I'll remember that," he says heavily, and Tsunade flinches at the way his voice breaks like an ocean surf. "Please return to the Kazekage and tell him that we will give him what he wants, and reiterate our desire for peace. I will speak with the Lords and hear their thoughts on the matter, and maybe they will be willing to make another try for a treaty. Thank you for this, Hiromaru. Dismissed."

"Hokage-sama," the man says, and bows low before leaving. Homura watches him go with a look of utter contempt, and when the door closes, the tension in the room rises almost perceptibly. It had been heavy before, now it was bordering on intolerable.

"That was foolish, Sarutobi," Homura says darkly. "The Kazekage is a spoiled child that thinks only of his own coffers. He would back down if we stood up to him. You have invited him to further push our limits until we have to bend or break. I will not stand for this."

"Homura!" Koharu snaps sharply, idly picking splinters out of her left hand, the one she'd slammed against the desk. It is with the bloodied hand that she indicates Tsunade. "We have a guest."

"His student, no less, hah!" Homura turns away from the Hokage and folds his arms stubbornly. "So, child, did you learn anything?"

"Leave." And suddenly her sensei is not the Hokage merely in title but in truth. The tension increases again, and Tsunade wants to scream just to release the pressure. Instead, she looks back and forth between Homura and Sandaime and does nothing at all.

"Sarutobi," Koharu begins. Tsunade realizes that the dark-haired woman is likely the one to diffuse the tempers in this relationship, as she is with Orochimaru and Jiraiya.

"I have a few things I would like to discuss with my student." Sandaime leaves no room for arguing. Silently, Koharu nods, stands and walks away, and her left foot drags a little as she walks, a reminder of some old injury. She pauses and pivots on her foot at the last possible second, catches Homura by his shirt and drags him with her, and when the door clicks shut behind them, Tsunade buries her head in her hands and tears at her hair with sharp, insistent little tugs. She feels sick. Sick because of the war, because of the tension and the battles going on within the hierarchy of an organization she's supposed to put all her faith in. Sick because she's not and never will be in a position to change it, to change any of it.

The Hokage turns to face her with a smile that she can't believe is genuine. "I'm sorry about… some of that," he offers apologetically. "Would you like anything to drink?"

She forces her hands to her side and stands. She's almost as tall as him now, and he seems to realize this with a beleaguered sigh and a muttered, "at least my children still only come up to my waist." If he were closer, he might have ruffled her hair. "So, Tsunade. You likely weren't here just for that episode, so, why then? Is it about Orochimaru and Jiraiya's mission?"

She smoothes her skirt and looks at the floor. "Orochimaru… the night of the last attack, when he left Jiraiya's, you mentioned snakes. What did that mean?"

The Sandaime Hokage arches an eyebrow, wanders back over to his desk and fishes a pipe from the remains. It takes him ten seconds longer than it should to light it. He's obviously stalling for time.

"Sensei! I asked a question!" Hands on her hips, arms akimbo, Tsunade looks more than ready to damage his remaining belongings beyond repair.

He glances at her, unimpressed by her threatening stance. The smoke from his pipe forms a wreath around him, a gaudy halo. "Have you seen a tattoo on Orochimaru's left arm lately?"

"Should I have?"

He rubs at his chin and then scratches at his cheek. "So, it hasn't permanently surfaced yet…"

"Sensei, if you don't start making sense right now…"

"Hm? Oh, sorry, Tsunade." He takes another puff and blows a smoke-ring. "Did you sleep well?"

"Sensei!"

Realizing that this isn't something he's going to get out of this without effort, he clears his throat before he speaks. "Contracts with snake-summons are strictly forbidden. Do you know why?"

She frowns, considering. All the scriptures she read on the magics, how snake, toad, slug, bird and spider are the primary magic summons and how they are the most binding contract. The other, lesser ones, the ones that are tied uniquely to the hidden villages, those are the common ones. "I've never even heard that it was forbidden, just that it was rare, and that no one living in my generation or… or yours, has done it."

"Hm. Well, yes, I suppose that's all the information that people want knowing… ahem, anyways. The highest summon of the snake order is called Yamata-no-Orochi," Sandaime continues as he starts to pace. "He has eight heads, and is taller than our mountain monument. Not something you, or I, or anyone would want to have to fight. You've heard of the ancient Otogakure, yes? The Village of the Sound? And that it disappeared? Well, from what we've been able to piece together from the ruins, the damage was caused by what we've always assumed to be Yamata-no-Orochi." Tsunade nods again in conjunction with his words. Otogakure no Sato, to their north, is a wealth of historic importance. She, Jiraiya and Orochimaru have been there only once.

"And within him, sealed away by a legendary hermit of Echigo Fuji, is the sword Kusanagi. Those chosen by the snakes have two paths. Either they are consumed by them, or they conquer them and earn the right to fight Yamata-no-Orochi. If that happens, and the combatant wins, the sword becomes theirs by right." Sandaime gestures to a pair of crossed swords hanging behind his desk and she glances up at them. "No other sword could withstand a blow from Kusanagi. It is the ultimate weapon."

Tsunade inhales, and takes it all in. Even when she's sure there are things she doesn't and will never understand, she forges onward yet again. "So, Orochimaru, because of this contract…?"

"Yes. Either it will kill him or drive him mad. And if he fights with Yamata-no-Orochi…"

"But…" She starts to laugh. "Sensei, don't be stupid. He's Orochimaru. He wouldn't…I mean, just for some stupid sword? Why the hell would he do all that, put himself in danger like that? Put us in danger… like… like that?" Her laughter becomes forced, and Sandaime knows from looking at her that several things have probably just fallen into place. She's known for a long while that Orochimaru is not entirely stable, as has he, as have they all. Yet no one wants to say it aloud for fear it becomes true.

"You're right," he tells her genially. "He is Orochimaru."

She starts, eyes wide, lips a thin line, and then she bows. It's a little shaky and a lot defiant, and he can hear the inherent denial in her voice. She wants to protect her teammate, to protect him from everything, up to and including himself. Sandaime doesn't wonder how far she will go to do it. "His given name was Yashagoro, you know."

He knows. He's always known. And he's not beyond hoping that it will make a difference.

Orochimaru and Jiraiya leave shortly afterwards, and Tsunade sees them off at the gate. She forces a smile and doesn't meet Orochimaru's eyes as she kisses Jiraiya on the cheek. "For luck," she tells him, and he grins like a loon and rubs the spot with a thumb.

"I don't want your luck, Tsunade!" he jokes. "It sucks! I'll probably go get myself killed now, keh!"The second he speaks he knows his words shouldn't have been said aloud. But instead of apologizing immediately or trying to take them back or even to talk over them, he just rubs at the back of his neck. "Maa, well, it's not like Orochimaru would let me die, anyways. Naa, Oro-chan?"

Orochimaru quirks an eyebrow and says nothing. Tsunade is trying to keep her facial expression neutral but he can see the way worry creases her brow and makes fine lines at the corners of her eyes. "Jiraiya," she hisses. "Don't be an idiot."

"Only for you, princess," he tells her with a jaunty wink. "Now, do you think I could get another kiss…?"

She punches him and he stumbles backwards, arms folded over his stomach from the force of her blow. They train sometimes, but he can't recall a time when she's ever hit him quite that hard. "Ow. That hurt, Tsunade-hime…" he pouts, and Tsunade lifts her fist again, other hand bracing it at the elbow.

"Yeah, well, don't make me do it again, you perverted jerk!" Silence falls between them, and the sun creeps a little higher on the horizon, using the mountains like some archaic stepping stone. The golden light turns Jiraiya's hair blond and gives Tsunade the countenance of a goddess. Unselfconsciously, Orochimaru moves into the shade.

He waits a little longer for Tsunade to say good-bye, but when no gesture seems forthcoming, he turns and takes several steps away from the gates and from Konoha and from everything he's fought for all his life. He's forgotten what it was supposed to mean, forgotten that it was ever a symbol he would have died for. His forehead protector is suddenly heavy and cold, so he takes it off and stuffs it in a pocket.

"Orochimaru-! Wait… wait a sec."

"Good-bye, Tsunade," he tells her calmly. He does not turn around, nor does he feel her touch on his arm. He might have stopped, if she would have dared. Instead, he hears the shift of sandals on the gravel and a whispered exchange pass between his two teammates before Jiraiya jogs to catch up with him. The tall boy slings an arm about his shoulders and gives him a playful shake, like a dog with a chew toy.

"You shouldn't be so cold!" Jiraiya chides him once they're out of hearing range of Konohagakure. "Tsunade-hime is just worried about you, ya jackass."

Somehow, Orochimaru isn't so sure of that.