TRAUMA
CHAPTER ONE – DARKNESS
A whole day had elapsed since it had been announced that Jiraiya had passed away, and to be frank; Tsunade had absolutely no desire to leave her house. Each hour was torturously slow and filled with sympathetic gazes from those that knew her both personally and from afar. It was starting to truly get on her nerves, what was she going to do with their sympathy? Nothing, she could do nothing with it. For the rest of the week, she was on a sabbatical; if she had to endure another day of tortured expressions, she would not be held responsible for what happened to those individuals.
There was no doubt in her mind that the villagers, including her comrades, meant well but that didn't matter right now; she was angry, hurt and incredibly frustrated, all of which made for a very dangerous cocktail. Brushing her forearm across her eyes, the Sannin sighs heavily, how many times had she found herself in this position? It was almost as if the Gods themselves wanted to push her to breaking point; just to see if maybe this time she might break for good. First Nawaki, then Dan and now even you are gone Jiraiya; She muses silently, hot tears sting at the medic's eyes and proceed to spill down her cheeks, thick lashes fluttering closed. I wasn't supposed to win that bet. I told you to return you, old fool.
Throat tightening, Tsunade squeezes her eyes tighter; it hurt, everything hurt. It was difficult to stop the darkness from swallowing her whole; it was looking appealing at this point. I can't just lay here all day, the Sannin notes, forcing herself upright; golden tresses flutter over her shoulder as her weathered hands fall to her sides, gripping her sheets as she flicked her legs over the edge. "I need another drink," she mutters softly, slowly pushing herself onto her feet and making her way out of her bedroom; the floorboards creaking beneath her feet.
Without thinking, she seizes a half-empty sake bottle off the kitchen table before sitting down heavily in the nearest chair, staring across her living room at her front door. Plump lips twist as the blonde unscrews the lid, swigging the potent liquid effortlessly; bothering with a cup was simply a waste of time. An instant wave of satisfaction washes over her as the heat of the alcohol settles in her stomach, she wanted to drown herself in the substance; it was the only way she knew how to cope with such situations. Denial didn't work for her; she'd tried that once before.
It was ironic, how after all the years he spent relentlessly confessing his interest in her, she didn't feel ready to accept his feelings until recently; and suddenly he was gone, killed in action. Bright eyes tremble as she slams the empty bottle on the kitchen table beside her alongside several others from the night before, cheeks flushing lightly as she crunches forward, fingers digging through her golden locks. This recurring trauma was eating at her from the inside out, sinking its fangs deep into her aching heart as she struggled to function; hot breath hitches in the back of her throat, her eyes trembling as her fingernails raked across her scalp. I want to wake up. This can't be my reality all over again, Tsunade's mind cries out, lips trembling as she squeezes her shaking eyes closed once more.
Her whole life felt like a never-ending nightmare and she was its captive; there was no plan b and there was no escape route, this was simply the hand fate had dealt her. Of course, yet again another source of happiness had been abolished from her life; she felt foolish for thinking that it wouldn't be the final outcome in some way or another. Worse yet, she could've stopped it from happening; he refused her request for him to send for help if things were dire, she should've gone with him; she knew better than to trust that he would know when to quit. Maybe Naruto was right in blaming me. I am at fault here? The Hokage wonders, hands shaking as she tugs at her blonde roots. That question had no answer, but it was sure to haunt her for the rest of her life.
Body drifting upright, she glanced across at the empty bottle resting beside her, yet another mistake; "I should've thought this through. As if that was going to be enough to get me through this despicable week," she grumbles under her alcohol saturated breath. It was a priority at this point, she couldn't be damned by what the villagers thought of her intoxicated state; she was only just getting started. Heart pounding loudly in her chest, she slams one hand down on her kitchen table and pushes herself to her feet. Never in her life did she want to become this woman. She was fierce, powerful and intelligent; yet despite the countless formidable enemies she had faced, it was love that would break her, time and time again. "How pathetic. I must look so pathetic," the leader repeats to herself as she mades her way to her front door, legs shaking slightly as she felt the alcohol take a grip of her. Eyes downcast, she turned the doorknob and opened the door; her eyes glazed with intoxication, a small comfort given how she felt.
A shadow looms over her causing a shiver instantly rushing down her spine; eyes fixed on a familiar pair of red geta sandals. Eyes sweep up the figure clutching to her door frame, a bloodied and battered Jiraiya standing there before her; a beaming smile shining down upon her as their eyes locked at last. "You lost the bet," Jiraiya croaks, fingertips smudging fresh blood down the door frame as he gripped it for support; knees buckling slightly as he winced, struggling to stay upright.
Thunder cracks from above like a whip, a flash of lightning crashing from behind her; the chilled night air encircling her as she stands there in complete and utter shock. Is this someone's idea of a joke? Tsunade's mind cries out, a fist clenching as she stares up into his kind eyes, tears overflowing as she examined his features carefully; ready to strike a punch at a moment's notice if need be. It was impossible for him to have made it out of his last battle alive, let alone how he managed to make it home; but here he was. It had to be genjutsu, right?
"You look like you've seen a ghost. Come on, I can't look that bad with this handsome face," he teases, knees buckling from beneath him at long last, hitting the cold stone of the threshold to her home. Yep, that still hurts, he notes silently; a hand tracing down his chest, tugging at his shirt as fresh blood stained the material. It was hard to contain the glee he felt as he gazed upon her flawless features once more, but instead of observing an irritated expression, all he saw was insurmountable pain; reddened eyes, tear-stained cheeks and the reek of sake on her breath.
Eyes widening the medic watches him carefully, the strong scent of blood was unmistakable; given it was once the source of so much terror for her, it was impossible for any genjutsu user to falsify it to such an extent. "It's impossible," Tsunade whispers, her voice shaking as she dropped to the floor, hands cupping his bloodied and bruised face as she stares at him in complete and utter disbelief; "Fukasaku told us you had died in battle."
A smirk claims his blood-stained lips as he presses his face into her right palm, fighting the ever-present urge to kiss it boldly; "You know me. I always find a way." The sage struggles to his feet once more, getting a sneaky look down the Hokage's top as he shakily plants his feet flat on the ground; I see the girls are still looking perky as ever, he muses silently despite his current state. "You know, I could use a doctor's touch right about now?" He half laughs before coughing violently, throat burning as the taste of blood stings at his taste buds; Crap, I've already overexerted myself.
"Try to not talk," she scolds, eyes shifting from his bruised neck down to his blood-soaked shirt. Rushing him to the hospital in this state is basically a death wish, Tsunade broods to herself, mind racing as she struggles to think clearly; The facilities would be preferable but if he moves too much the bleeding will undoubtedly worsen. I have no choice. Rising to her feet, the blonde slips her shoulder under his armpit; an arm snaking around his chest as she slowly escorts him inside her home, her foot slamming the door behind them. Taking a deep breath, she tries her best to think clearly through the haze of intoxication that clouds her mind. This was unprecedented circumstances. Healing while under the influence was never wise, but given his current state she was sure there was no other option; she could only pray that her skill set would tip the odds in their favour.
Dazed, he feels his eyes growing heavy as he crossed the threshold into her home. His personal mission was finally complete, he had returned as promised. The warmth of her body radiates against him as he slowly lowers himself down, leaning back against her sofa as he planted his rear on the tiles. There was no doubt in his mind that she was his sole motivation for hanging on; without Tsunade's presence in his life, he simply would've caved in to the cold embrace of death. She was worth the fight, without question. A bloodied hand reaches up to her face, thumbing away remnants of her tears from her alabaster cheeks; a smudge of blood taking its place. How was it that even when she was distraught she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on?
Despite all the suffering he experienced during the battle with Pain; the only thing he could truly think of was her, no amount of suffering was able to rid his mind of her. As he fell deep into the cold depths of the ocean, ready to accept his fate, she was the one glimmer of light pulling him back to the present; just knowing that Tsunade was waiting for him gave him incomprehensible strength. It was impossible to pass into the afterlife peacefully knowing that simple fact; he would not surrender and allow himself to contribute to the long-standing string of pain she had been afflicted with. She deserved better, no; she needed better.
Tsunade kneels between his legs, frozen temporarily as she feels his callused thumb trace across the apple of her cheek tenderly; throat tightening she chokes back tears, eyes squinting as her lips tremble. Don't look at me like you're leaving. I cannot lose you all over again, her mind screams out, desperate to fight back. Her dominant hand quickly traces down the centre of his chest, a luminous green hue emanating from her palm as she carefully examined her patient; lips parting as she loses herself deep in thought. The ten broken ribs and liver lacerations are easily fixed. The punctured lung and severe internal bleeding due to his ruptured spleen are a worry on the other hand, the medic muses; brows knitting together, concern washing over her. Her hand slides up to his bruised throat; A moderately crushed trachea as suspected. How was this stubborn man able to stand earlier let alone talk?
Taking a deep breath, the medic sheds her jacket; tossing it aside as her gaze drifts up to his pale visage. "Lay down," she orders sternly, a finger pointing towards the floor as she reaches for a cushion, propping it behind his head as he winces. I could follow a traditional palm healing method, but it might be too slow. The severity of his wounds is far worse than I imagined. Given my lack of medical supplies at home, a chakra drip combined with palm healing will be the quickest way to manage this; she notes silently to herself, chakra flowing to the tips of her fingers slicing through his clothing and exposing the open wounds littering his chest. It was a difficult call, one that placed a risk on her own well-being given she would effectively be performing a living chakra transfusion for him.
It is difficult to focus as she stares blankly down at his ravaged chest, she needs more details as soon as possible; this was not a normal assault, not just anyone could land significant blows on any of the legendary Sannin let alone leave one of them in such a state. But finding out how he made it home and details of the battle could wait, she needed to focus on the task at hand. Eyes flutter shut as the Hokage's hands pressed together, her body slipping into a mild trance as she focused her chakra into each fingertip. Tsunade slowly pulls her palms apart, her fingertips still touching each other for a few short moments before they broke away; strings of glowing green chakra dipping between her hands as they draw apart. "I'm sorry, but this will hurt without anaesthesia," she whispers, honey eyes flicking up to meet his gaze for a brief moment before her right hand slowly starts to press individual fingertips into each wound site; a chakra string connecting with each of the throbbing punctures the enemy had inflicted upon his chest. He howls, body jerking with every finger she slips into each sensitive wound; his eyes squeeze shut as he feels a tingle rush from each location the instant she withdraws each digit.
Taking a deep breath, the blonde looks down, plunging all five fingertips into her life chakra point; gripping it delicately in the centre of her chest. A loud whimper escapes her as she feels the chakra point and chakra threads knit together. Gritting her teeth, she quickly withdraws her fingertips from the locale; blood dripping from her fingers as the chakra strands pulse gently and draws taut, connecting their chakra systems as she hunches forward. I can do this. I just need to focus, she reminds herself, trying to avoid focusing on the metallic scent that was clouding her already hindered senses; her haemophilia may not have been as crippling as it once was, but it still lingered. The technique was not one for the inexperienced or weak-minded; the pain in itself was a sufficient deterrent, let alone the taxing effect it had on its user due to its leaching effect. Thankfully, her relationship with sake seemed to soften the constant stabbing pain emanating from within her chest.
"Tsunade!" Jiraiya calls out nervously, eyes widening as he tries to sit upright, a blood curdled coughing fit gripping him as he winces; Tsunade's eyes roam from his chest up to his visage glaring daggers in his direction, stopping him in his tracks. "Just don't overdo it," he adds hesitantly, there was no stopping her once she was in medic mode; the best thing he could do was sit back and not interfere with whatever her strategy was.
That fool doesn't realise how close he came to the afterlife, does he? Tsunade notes in complete and utter frustration, her shoulders slackening as a pair of chakra enveloped hands began tracing across his chest as she got to work. Leaning forward, an intense look of concentration grips her stunning features; rays of chakra gushing from her fingertips as they hover above the abused organs, desperate to stop the internal haemorrhaging.
There it is, Jiraiya notes as he smiles sleepily up at the medic; That irresistible 'I am unstoppable' expression of hers. A cool feeling slowly emanates from his chest, the gaping wounds slowly knitting themselves closed as the blonde hovers over him; he thought he'd seen it all, but this the technique she was using seemed to be yet another one of her self-taught techniques. Grinning his eyes flutter closed as he slips into darkness; falling unconscious.
"Don't you dare!" The blonde howls; slack golden ponytails flicking over her shoulders as she gazes down at him. The fight was far from over.
AUTHOR:
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! You will find out more details around Jiraiya's escape from the clutches of death and journey home in the next chapter.
If you enjoyed this chapter please be sure to leave a review as I'd love to hear your thoughts and it helps motivate me to keep writing.
Thank you so much for your support!