Not three hours of travel time later, they arrive at a little village, so small the population can't even be pushing into triple digits. The whole way, Asura flutters and fumbles along beside him, worried about his ribs but utterly useless to help. Not a surprise considering she's lived with the inbuilt Jinchūriki patch-job all her life, but that does little to help him right now. What is pleasant is how she holds his hand the entire walk.
Okay, he has to trick her into it, claiming her chakra's warm (is it warm? Yes, in the way the summer's sun is warm at the height of midday, the kind you can only bask in for five minutes before it's burning rays send you scuttling for the shade) and soothing (soothing to know who it belongs to, the actual chakra is quite ferocious and never stills, much like the girl herself).
Asura eyes him, as if certain that he's lying but she can't quite pinpoint why. Still, with a muttered grumble of 'bastard, why're you so weird all of a sudden', she'd slipped her hand in his. So, that's how they arrive. Hand in hand. Like an actual couple.
Indra'd rather pull his teeth out than ask Asura if that's what she wants (she might appreciate blunt honesty but he sure as fuck doesn't unless it's screwing him over à la massacre style) so he'll just make things clear with his actions. She's always been a tactile idiot; it won't be long until she realises.
Not long into their walk through the village, Indra spots the little inn, one squashed between a restaurant and a butcher's shop. It's small, clearly only receiving business from the travelling merchants that tumble through here on the road. But it'll have a bed and that's sure as hell good enough for him.
"Come on, Idiot. Rest time." With two S-ranked criminals dead today, he thinks they more than deserve it.
Indra takes point now, pushing open the door to the little inn, a yawn already on the cusp of his lips. He's tired but he's been through a war recently and a shit ton of stuff before that so he's fucking allowed to be tired. His ribs hurt, most of his body is aching and he just wants to curl up around Asura and bask in her presence for a bit. He's been denying himself that for far too long, has not appreciated her presence since the early, early days of his genin life. Not that he'd ever let on to the fact he sorta liked her, what with being under the impression Itachi could roll in at any point and steal her from him. By killing her, that is. The thought of Itachi and Asura is very disturbing and Indra slots it away to never be considered again. Bed first, sleep next, maybe kiss Asura somewhere between them.
His priorities are clear.
At no point in there was there anything about sitting through a healing session for his ribs.
Given how Tsunade of the Sannin is staring blankly at them from beside the inn's counter, Indra rather gets the feeling his to-do list is gonna take a massive swan-dive into that 'I don't want to' territory.
Asura clocks her a second later.
"Granny Tsunade!"
.
"You're from the future."
"Yep!"
"And you're here to save the world."
"Uh-huh!"
Indra sits through the whole thing on the bed, Tsunade's glowing green hands on his ribs (and thank fuck if it's suddenly easier to breath) and Asura's fingers still laced with his own. The only good point in all of this; she hasn't let go.
Tsunade, after listening to the shitshow that was their lives prior to this moment (and when he means listening to their lives, it's the unabridged, gloriously detailed kind that only Asura can get away with sharing on the 'first meeting'; it's how she makes friends) had took one looked at their joined hands and sent him a knowing smirk. Indra had just met her gaze evenly, utterly unable to come up with any kind of response. Maybe before he'd have hissed in irritation, pulled his hand from Asura's and disappeared for a bit.
Not anymore. Fuck that. His hand is perfectly fine where it is, thank you.
"So, you finish your crusade against this group of S-ranked criminals and, then what?"
"We go clean house," Indra states at the exact same time Asura proclaims, "we'll go deal with Orochimaru!"
There's a moment then, in which Indra stares at Asura and Asura stares back at Indra. He's the first to concede.
"We go deal with Orochimaru, then we go clean house," Indra amends, hoping against hope that Asura realises 'house' means Konoha and all the nasty (re. Danzō) inhabitants.
The flat of Asura's other palm presses against his forehead and Indra's brow scrunches, confuses eyes leaping up to focus on the girl.
"What?"
"Granny, he must be sick! Indra never agrees with my plan!"
Tsunade, the bitch, just laughs at him. Not that he'd been expecting back-up from a Senju of all people, but it'd been a nice idea. For the two seconds in which their eyes met, Indra had thought that perhaps he could have one of Tsunade's precious people on side for the whole relationship, living out the rest of the lives together thing.
Then he'd remembered that this Tsunade wasn't exactly close to Asura so it wouldn't matter too much if she didn't approve.
Then, bonus, he remembered that this one had not actually suffered for any of his previously ill-thought-out decisions. She might even actually come to not just approve of him, but think him an ideal partner for Asura.
Time travel is mental.
"Nah. Your cutie here has just realised following a woman's lead is for the best; it happens to all of them, eventually," she trails off with a sad smile but Indra has no time for whatever sad-sap tale she's about to dribble off into. He just wants his ribs healed and then Tsunade out of the hotel room.
Hang on, he's two outta three for the Sannin in an uncomfortably small number of days. What's the chances that Orochimaru's gonna show up next?
"Speaking of a woman's lead," Asura chirps up, rubbing her hands together and leaning forwards, all cheer smile and sparkly eyes. Yeah, Indra's fallen for that one before.
By the time they complete their self-appointed mission of preventing the end of the world (leaving Indra free to begin his own mission to put a ring on Asura's finger), he's got a good feeling there'll be a Fifth Hokage.
He wonders if a bet was how Asura tricked her into becoming the next leader of their village the first time around.
"You know, Sensei, I think I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna have a blonde as the next protagonist."
One sentence has never struck such nausea into Sarutobi Hiruzen's heart quite as quick as that.
Long ago, back when Jiraiya was still filling out his gangly teenaged body, back when he'd been brimming with ideas (fantastic, fantastic ideas) for new literature, the teenager had proclaimed something along those exact words. 'The protagonist will be blonde'.
The next day, Hiruzen had been visiting the scamp in hospital after Tsunade had beaten him half to death for peaking on her in the hot springs. When asked, his 'dead-last' pupil had proclaimed it done in the name of research, though even he was struggling to weigh up if seeing Tsunade topless had been worth the beating.
Nonetheless, when Jiraiya had taken up his spy network, he'd implemented those words as a code. A code that, when said, basically meant 'I am about to shovel the biggest pile of bullshit you ever did see, and I'll clean it all off once the flies are gone'. Speaking of flies on the wall, Danzō, Homura and Koharu all walk into his office, various expression on their face signalling they overheard Jiraiya's words. Danzō, of course, recognises the sentence had been a code, though he won't have the slightest clue as to the true meaning.
"Jiraiya. It is nice to see you have returned in good health," Koharu greets him with a smile, taking a seat as his giant of a student leans against the window ledge.
"Huh, oh, yeah. Healthy as ever. I've even lost some weight, about a hundred kilograms, actually. Damn brats."
"Brats?" Danzō repeats, his voice cool as he watches Jiraiya with his single, visible eye.
"Oh man." It is not said with a sad tone, nor is it said with the guilty conscience of someone who has done wrong. No, Jiraiya says those two words with undisguised glee, rubbing his hands together and, if Hiruzen didn't know better, he'd be assuming a new mixed-gender onsen was opening in Konoha. (It isn't, something like that would have to get his approval and no forms have passed his desk since Jiraiya had tried sneaking one in thirty or so years ago).
"I am so glad to be rid of them because it means I get to let loose on Minato's last secret." Minato's last what?
.
Hiruzen listens, alongside his teammates from the war, with growing disbelief. Jiraiya spins a perfect tale of hidden secrets, desperate dads determined to keep their children safe, there's even a legendary Dōjutsu thrown into the mix. Were it not for the code at the start of their conversation, Hiruzen would have been taking everything at face value, just as the others are doing. Because it seems too outlandish, too wild a story to even try to pass as a lie (even though that's what it must be; this is the shit Jiraiya is shovelling).
Still, when he's handed the photos of the two Jiraiya has 'spent a decade teaching and protecting', he feels a stone settle in his stomach. Because that's a female Minato on the first sheet. Unquestionably Minato's child, undoubtedly Kushina's, given the birth marks and mischievous expression. She's beautiful, a confident young thing that has no trouble smiling at the camera.
Which is more than he can say about the other one.
Clearly a Uchiha, so painfully similar in facial structure to Uchiha Mikoto that he can be none other than her son. He recalls the still-born baby that'd come before- before Itachi. Though, perhaps not stillborn. A cleverly disguised ruse.
"He has an advanced Sharingan," Danzō states, face absolutely blank and Hiruzen sends a furious glance his way. He has not forgotten how the other had forced his hand with the massacre, has not forgotten Itachi's report of Shisui's death. Were he in a position to do anything about it-
"Not even a Sharingan, something better. And he can use it- man, can he use it!" Jiraiya laughs, slapping an open palm against his thigh, grinning all the while. "I didn't even know I was in a genjutsu until I woke up, flat broke and drunk as a skunk in River Country. It took me hours to track them both down again after that."
Even as Jiraiya continues to regal them of tales of the two, Hiruzen's mind whirls.
Itachi will not know about this elder brother; if Mikoto went to such lengths to hide him for this 'better-than-the-Sharingan' Dōjutsu, then the other will be rightly suspicious. Even to the point of potentially paying a visit. And this Indra who can catch Jiraiya in a genjutsu won't know that his younger brother is innocent, may just attack right off.
And that's not even considering how the two youngest players in all this will feel. Though he doesn't doubt Naruto will be thrilled to have an elder sister, he worries the young girl will question why Asura wasn't there for her before. Understanding restraint, understanding why someone might have to stay away for another's safety has never been one of her strong suits. Even more so when she doesn't know why, exactly, she's so precious.
.
This continues for another ten minutes, Jiraiya clarifying that the duo are on the hunt of S-Rank criminals involved in the release of the Kyūbi eleven years ago and then deftly dancing around giving out any more information, before the others take the hint to leave. Probably to come up with some plans for when Uchiha Indra returns, and Uzumaki Asura. After all, one will wield political power that they'd thought locked up until Sasuke came of age, the other… well, the other is the elder sister to a Jinchūriki and holds half the beast as well.
"That was quite the shock, Jiraiya," Hiruzen mutters, reaching into his top draw to pull free his liquor stash. The hard stuff. It's necessary when kunai tags like this get exploded on him.
"Yeah, quite the shock," Jiraiya agrees, slapping down a seal on each surface of the room, even the ceiling. Once that's complete, his student turns back to him, eyes serious and mouth in a firm line. "Now, forget ninety percent of what I've just told you. What've you heard of time-travel, Sensei?"