Wrote this one very extremely tired in like an hour. It's the only other universe au I wrote.

So this was the world. Was is always going to be like this? Nature taking over long abandoned villages and homes. Evil had won for the moment. Evil creatures wandered the world doing as they please. It seems the only safe havens left are the different race's capitals. But even they are getting their fair share of monster invasions. It just wasn't good. Everyone was restless. It just felt like something bad was going to happen. A looming threat over by the fallen castle village. Long abandoned and flooded with the most aggressive monsters. A shroud of evil growing darker and bigger with each passing day.

And what of the champions? They're are so many rumours. All three disappeared after the attack. It is said that Champion Orochimaru had turned against his fellow teammates, he aided the blight that took over the world. Why? No one really knows his true motivations and there is no way to find out now. Legends say he fused with the darkness that rampaged the lands. They say Champion Tsunade is sealed with the monster that took over her home. That, or she died in her divine beast. Your grandmother said she was quite the princess. That she didn't sit around and wait for the world to end. She took action with her friends. A strong and gifted woman that was kind as she was harsh. She would have made a wonderful ruler if peace prevailed. And then there's Champion Jiraiya. He simply... disappeared. The popular theory is that he died in the battle a hundred years ago. The three strongest fighters of the land all met a tragic fate. Hope had faded from the people. It made them cold and jaded.

But a new buzz had been sweeping the different stables and among passerby travellers like yourself. A man matching the description of Jiraiya was wandering the wilds. The general description was that of an older man, tall and handsome. He bore long white hair and red markings down his face. He dresses in clothing the only tribe who would talk to him had given him. It was more natural and muted in colour rather than the brilliant white and red that made up the pallet of the tribe. With a light green for the kisode and pants. The grey shirt underneath was tightly fitted to provide a light layer of armour and the collar could be pulled up into a mask to cover the lower half of the face. Often, he wears a red cloak adorned with a hood. Most times the hood is up along with the mask to conceal his identity. He doesn't like to be seen. The small ninja village of Sheikah seemed to be the only ones that were welcoming to him. He looks to be their kin. As they bare similar physical traits. Maybe that's why they gave him a set of clothing to help him hide. They are known for being sneaky and looking out for their own.

You see... instead of welcoming this hero with open arms, the world scorned him. They rejected and blamed him. It probably wasn't even the same Jiraiya. It was over a hundred years ago. If the original still lived, he would be a fragile old man by now. This was probably a son, or grandson. A champion's descendant. Probably the last hope this world had. And yet... they despise him. It wasn't fair.

You were sitting outside, by the inn you had booked a room in. There were a couple of wooden stumps to sit on by the door. It's a nice sunny day and you want to be outside before going in for dinner. The little town you found was thriving the best it could. Surviving on the small farms that feeds the whole town. Currently, the champion's descendent was being denied a room. His hood down and face in full view to not hide who he is. Maybe he should have. There was plenty vacancy, but the woman who owned the place was practically screaming at him. She was much smaller and it would take nothing for him to intimidate her. But Jiraiya backed up as she attempted to get in his face. He didn't want to take part in the argument. She was screaming insults at him. She was causing a crowd to form. Other townsfolk were joining in on the verbal berating. He didn't breathe a word of defence. More or less, he let them do this. All the while he scans the area around him, above their heads searching for something. A way out most likely.

"You aren't welcome here!" A woman shrieked.

"Failure!" A man next to her added.

"How dare you show yourself in our town!" An old farmer jabbed his pitchfork in the champion's direction.

As they rallied, Jiraiya simply raised his guard. He widened his stance and paid close attention to those closest to him. He braced his legs to launch in any direction and made it obvious he was ready to defend himself. That only seemed to turn the crowd into an active mob. You witnessed what a properly trained fighter can do. With keen insight on their movements, Jiraiya simply... dodged. He deflected and dodged the uncoordinated attacks that came his way. He was so graceful in comparison to them. The years of experience showed in his calculated counters. It's nothing like the lacking fighting style of the general population now. If anyone wanted to travel, they at least learned how to swing a blade. The monsters of the land don't give two shits and will attack anything that moves.

It was clear he didn't want to strike them. His expression was that of utter 'I am sick of this shit' as he continues to be on the complete defensive. He had the upper hand and was clearly buying time to find an opening to leapfrog out of there. Someone had a sword and a bit of luck.

Time seemed to slow down as one of the strangers was bringing the blade towards Jiraiya's face. It would be a deadly blow. One that would split open his head. He reacted by bringing his hand up. The guard on his the back of his hand caught the weapon. It split through the wooden guard and into his skin. Blood immediately began to trail down his hand and arm. There was a momentary pause. Before Jiraiya threw his arm back to knock his attacker away. The assaulter tripped and landed on their ass. Since everyone was momentarily confused and distracted, and honestly he doesn't want to be here anymore, Jiraiya seized the opportunity to fucking book it. He jumped over a person to do so. He hightailed it back out of the town.

Poor guy. How could they be so cruel? The townspeople stayed gathered in their little mob and talked. They were bitter and mean. They doted on the man who had cut open the disgraced hero. They treated the little shit like a saint.

"If only you had gotten his neck." One of them shook their head in disappointment.

"Yeah, he's quick though." The swordsman answered with a shrug. "Maybe next time."

How appalling! Not wanting to support these people, you grabbed your backpack from your room and left the town. There's droplets of blood along the path and grass. You follow it to a nearby river. Where the champion was squatted by the water. There's a thin stream of blood that's now flowing in the river. He's washing his wound, the guard pulled off so he can tend to it properly.

You approach and crouch down next to him. So... this is Jiraiya. He looks just like his namesake... your grandma said he was quite the lady killer when she was younger. She often told you what he looked like. She had a crush on him and would take any opportunity to talk to him. She was a young maid at the castle when he was first appointed as a retainer to the royal family. She told you he was a suave, confident man that loved the girls. He'd impress the lasses by taking them to the castle and sneaking around with them. Your grandfather glared at her the whole time she wistfully described her date with Champion Jiraiya. His lips pursed into a tight frown as she told you how his competition wooed her. Needless to say grandpapa wasn't a big fan of the charming champion.

Was this Jiraiya like that? Right now, he was wearily keeping an eye on you. Or maybe this was a reincarnation? It's not like he has to be exactly like his predecessor. The world needs a hero now. Perhaps the goddess gave him another chance? That would give enough reason to be serious and stoic. He casts a glance to you and stays on guard.

That or he's just hiding his real nature as a person. Why express himself to a world that hated every fibre of his being? He doesn't trust you and that's very clear in his body language. He's tense. His jaw is clenched. He shifts his weight from foot to foot. Strangers put him off.

"Are you okay?" You start off the conversation. It's best to cut the tension with your cheery tone and concerned expression.

"..." Jiraiya looks at you again. Slower this time. Looking you up and down in careful consideration of your presence. Then he returns to his wound, holding the injury above the water as he splashed water on it. He keeps glancing at you. It's not in a nervous way, it's cautious.

"Do you need help wrapping that up?" You point to his hand.

Still, he is silent. He looks tired. Tired and downhearted. Can you blame the man? A town of people just publicly shamed and attacked him. It probably wasn't the first time. He knew what to do to make a speedy escape.

"Can you talk?" You frown and poke his cheek.

Jiraiya turned his head away to get you to stop. He furrows his brows. Why... are you here? Why are you pestering him with questions and offering help? It's odd to have the world hate him. It's like the world was flipped on his head. Once a long time ago, people loved him. He and his friends hailed as champions and trusted defenders of the world. Now his friends are all dead and everyone hates him... except for you. So far it feels like you are the only person that had offered him something. Aside from his tribe. Do they really count? They only helped because he was practically half dead when he showed up. It was more out of pity than love.

"Yes." His voice is raspy from lack of use. When was the last time he spoke? It's hard to recall. No one wanted to talk to him and if he did it was the wrong thing to say.

The small and terse response was enough to make you smile. He has a nice voice. It suited him. It's deep and even. You got a feeling he's probably more emotive than this. He's got smile lines. The quiet and tense demeanour just didn't feel true. You could tell he's capable of much more. What would it take to get him to smile?

"Do you have first aid? You can use my bandages if you need." You offer. You take your backpack off and began pilfering around the inside for them. You find your roll of bandages and hold out your hand. Jiraiya stares at your outstretched hand. "I don't bite!" You joke with a half forced laugh. There's still some tension in the air.

"Why are you helping me?" At this point, he just assumes the worst in people. He hesitantly put his injured hand in your outstretched one.

You offer him a friendly smile. You begin to wrap his hand up. "You don't deserve to be treated so horribly. It's not your fault the world went to shit."

"... It kinda is."

"Don't let them tell you that. It's not like you were there when The Calamity struck."

"I was."

What? How is that possible? At most, this man looks to be in his forties. Less than half of the time that has passed since the disaster struck! He couldn't have been there! The confusion was clear on your face. For the first time in a very long time, Jiraiya huffs a laugh. A quiet laugh that was barely that. More like an amused exhale. It's the most he's done since he woke up.

"Even I'm not to sure what happened. I was critically injured in battle and close to death. Next I awoke, I was told over a hundred years have passed." Jiraiya sighs quietly and looks up to the sky. "All my friends are gone and the world was in ruins... because I failed. I failed everyone." His words get quieter.

A lump formed in your throat as you heard the swell of emotion in his voice. He's broken-hearted about it all. You swallow down the lump, crying in front of a man you just met would make a weird first impression. Same with just pulling him in a hug. He needs like a thousand of them! As much as you would like to, it's clear he's not a touchy feely person. Poor thing. It would have been a kinder fate to have let him die. It seemed cruel to bring him back and let him live with all this crushing knowledge. He's burdening all this grief by himself. On top of that he gets harassed and ostracized by the very people who begged the goddesses for a hero.

You finish wrapping his wound. Jiraiya thanked you and stood up. You stood up with him. You don't to leave his side. You're alone in the world too. "Can I travel with you?"

"Why would you want to do that? You'll only get treated like how I am." Hey, he's not opposing the idea. Not completely anyways! He even has the good nature to be concerned about your public image. Rolling with Jiraiya would only bring you the same harassment he gets. Which is fine.

"Then you aren't alone!" You grab his hand and take place beside him. He doesn't need to deal with it all by himself. He's got so much worth, but he doesn't know that anymore. It's like it got bullied out of him.

It's been a long time since he's blushed. It's been longer since someone touched him, without bad intentions that is. Yet another complete turn over. Back when he was a young champion, girls would just flock to him. In the present, no girl would be caught dead with the so called 'Divine Champion'. Jiraiya is a little touch starved. He didn't realize how much he missed something as simple as a hand to hold. It's nice. The heat from your skin and the feeling of being wanted, all so nice. He interlocks his fingers with yours, not planning to let it go or chance it happening. You sidestep closer and blink your lashes at him. You like him, eh? Maybe you're a gift from the goddesses? Were they finally going to stop punishing him? It always felt like they were.

"How about we explore some of the mountains? I hear there's treasure up there." Jiraiya suggests as he points to one mountain silhouette far away in the horizon.

"Sounds good!" You agree. You take the first step with him as he takes lead toward the destination. Treasure hunting in the snow, then spending the cold night cuddling in his arms? Very very nice.

You'll get him to smile. Maybe you could do much more!