An: Continuation of the previous drabble. I think I dragged it out too much. Oh, well.

Don't wish it away

Don't look at it like it's forever

Between you and me I could honestly say

That things can only get better

The map was curled under her bed, bent and out of shape, full of wrinkles, clearly over-used. He was back, in Konoha, in her life, her sweet, bitter, messy life - he's here and now and for good.

And she can't bring herself to care as much as she did when he wasn't here.

...o...

"Do you think that you love me more?"

When her eyes meet his, he has to look away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable by the intensity of her stare and the silent, unspoken pleading tone on her face. His eyebrows drop down, setting into a frown and he searches the words.

"Come again?"

She sighs, tired and old, and leans on the table with one hand. "You heard what I said."

He takes one long sip, and empties the whole cup. For a moment, one long, eternal moment he stares at the emptiness laid out before him - is it her or the cup? - and can't seem to find the right response this time.

She puffs out on the cold winter air as they leave the bar and they don't speak to each other the entire month afterwards. When there are no right answers, neither of them knows how to ask the wrong question.

...o...

It's cold again, and it's dark. For some unknown reason she feels as if she has lost something vital to her life, something that was once deeply rooted into her being, in the lines of her chakra and in the thoughts of her mind - but it's gone, or merely lost and she can't do a thing about it.

He hasn't been around much lately and it pains her more than she dares to admit. Foolish of her, she thinks with disdain, that she gambled and lost. Again. She's always losing and she's sick and tired of it. The day is slowly turning into night and her nerves are slowly getting fried, second by second and then she's tired of waiting, of this endless waiting and spinning in circles they have mastered as if it was some grand technique to learn.

With determined steps, she grabs the big Hokage coat, swirls it around and on her shoulders and swings the door open. He's there - right there, as always - standing, pale and exhausted. "If I loved you more than you loved me, that's what you asked? Is that the worst thing in the world? I feel what I feel, what I've felt for a long time. It doesn't work like you think it works Tsunade. I don't determine the strength of my feelings by measuring them against yours. They are independent, and if you married Dan then and really moved out of town, and never threw me a second look, I'd still feel this way."

It all comes out in a bubble of words, in a haste and in a haze she can't catch before he turns around on his heel and storms out of the building - runs away from her, from the routines of their relationship, runs away from what he thinks was a mistakes bound to happen.

Tsunade rages around her apartment that night on endless hours and in the setting of dawn burns the map with vigorous intent. Past is past is past is past and that's all it's ever going to be. Future is slipping away too quickly, too quickly, somehow sneaking past her with a dare and a hidden card in it's sleeves.

Tsunade thinks it's time for the last round, but this time - she's dealing.

...o...

He's not easy to find when he doesn't want to be found, but for god knows what reasons her chakra is tuned to his own and she could pin-point the exat location he's on even if he's on the other side of the world and very close to falling off the horizon.

There's still the smell of burning paper in her nose, and there are still the ashes of past (mistakes) in her blood, but something new blossoms in her heart and she doesn't dare refuse or stun its growth. Not that's too late for that, but rather that she's forgotten how to.

He's sitting one of the highest rooftops in all of Konoha and staring at the sun rising in the East. He's smoking, and minute to minute he shakes his pipe down and around to empty it, but she can see he's thinking deeply and that the action is merely a reflex of oldness.

"Jiraiya?" She seeks out, he flinches at the sound of his own name. A long sigh is heaved out when he stands up, throwing away the used pipe and turns to her. There is expectation on his face, the knowledge of what is to come, but he's not quite sure if the outcome is going to be good and bad, and for some reason he has the feeling as if he's fighting for his life.

She steps closer, barely by two steps and there is still great distance between them. Like it was on the map, small in measure, big in minds. "To end this: no, but I don't want you to think that I love you this much," she holds her thumb and index finger about a half inch apart, "and that you love me this much." She stretches her arms apart as far as they will go.

He nods, accepting her analogy and she grows frustrated. There's anger clearly visible on her face, in her eyes and in the way she's holding herself, he would even dare to say that she is somewhat sad.

"So that's it then, eh, Tsunade?" Jiraiya asks, hands on his hips and sorrowful gaze in his eyes.

Sun is almost up, and it's casting a glowing light of halo around her hair, and while her lips are firmly set in a small, narrow line he can see the ghost of a smile there. She's already turning around, intent on leaving when he stops her, his voice strong and deep in the clear morning air.

"Not like that, Tsunade." He says, holding his index finger and thumb just barely apart. "More like from me to you." He points out with his finger to the long distance between them. "That much."

She stares at him in wonder, as if she doesn't not believe what he's saying before she cocks her head to the side, hair falling over and in her eyes, and grins. "Funny, because it's the same from me to you." She points right back.

Jiraiya smiles back at her, satisfied and eager, but content. "Dinner?" He draws out slowly, but with a promise in his question.

A few steps and she's behind him, arms twining around his neck, holding him there, in place, with firmness and gentleness he knew she can show to him too. She props herself on her toes and leans to deliver a quiet whisper in his ear.

"Sake."