The Inuzuka Jiraiya found waiting outside his place was not Kibuka, but a kid of fifteen or sixteen.
"Where's Kibuka?"
"My mom's away on a mission," the kid said, twirling a kunai idly, "but I'm your girl. I'm Kana."
Jiraiya hadn't asked, but he supposed it made sense that Kibuka had a kid. "Of course. Come in," he said, forming a half-tiger seal to dispel the genjutsu. His door faded away while a section of wall a few feet away shimmered and revealed the real door.
"Cool," Kana whispered. He had no doubt she was filing that trick away for future use. Jiraiya didn't mind. He had been meaning to change up his door security anyway.
"So Tsunade briefed you onwhat I need here, right?"
"Detect any foreign scent or chakra traces? Yeah," she said absently as she moved slowly around the house. "I'm supposed to ignore Tsunade-sama, Orochimaru-sama and your scent, correct?"
"And Suki."
Kana shot him a look. "Yes, her too."
There would usually be a lot more strange scents than that since Jiraiya regularly brought women home, but he'd been on a three-month long mission, and had returned just in time for the festival. He supposed he should be grateful about that, at least. He didn't relish having to interview every woman he'd slept with in an average month.
She came out of the bathroom with her nose screwed in disgust. "Well, that's all of it. I didn't detect any hint of anyone else. Even shadow clones leave a scent. Whoever did this was very good. Had to be to leave no trace like that."
"Are you sure?"
"Very. I'm one of the better trackers in the family," Kana said with a hint of smugness.
Jiraiya scowled. This could only mean that they were dealing with an S-rank stealth specialist. The good news, at least, was that narrowed the field of suspects down considerably. There were not very many S-rank stealth specialists in Konoha, or the world for that matter.
His train of thought was interrupted by the realization that Kana had leaned in very close, and was apparently sniffing his neck on tiptoe.
"Uh, Kana-"
Jiraiya jumped when she buried her face in the nape of his neck. When Jiraiya pushed her head away from his neck she grabbed his head and kissed him full on the mouth.
"N-now wait a minute!" Jiraiya said, extricating himself from the kiss.
Her cheeks were flushed, and there was a playful grin on her face. "Come on. I know your reputation. Tell me you don't want this."
Jiraiya backed away a few steps. "Listen…" He thought about how best to handle this. "Your mother would kill me."
Kana threw up her hands in exasperation. "Who cares what that bitch thinks? I passed my chuunin exams." She leaned into Jiraiya again, pursing her lips in what he supposed was a seductive pout. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions-"
"-but not old enough for me," Jiraiya interrupted, pushing her away. "I like women with proper curves. Come back in a few years, kid." He ruffled her hair to soften his words.
Jiraiya knew that it was exactly the wrong thing to do, almost as he did it. He saw the slap coming but made no effort to stop it, and it connected with a resounding crack. He probably deserved that, he reflected as Kana stalked away with wounded pride. While she would never be as well-endowed as Tsunade, Kana wasn't all that lacking in the curves department. The more mortifying truth was that he had slept with her mother only last month. Kibuka would never forgive him.
Kana slammed the door so hard on her way out that motes of dust floated down from the rafters. One flake landed on his nose, and as he swept it away with his hand, he saw something that made his breath catch in his throat. It was no ordinary flake of dust. He had seen this before. He brought it closer to inspect it, and sure enough, it was a piece of snake scale.
Orochimaru. The last time he had seen it was during a particularly thorny infiltration mission in the Land of Rice with his fellow Sennin. If Tsunade was right Orochimaru was a month into a deep-strike mission that was to take him six months. The pure white scale gleamed a little as he shifted it on his finger. The scale was brand-new too, less than a day old if he had to guess. Jiraiya felt a chill in his veins as he realized the implication.
He shook his head. Orochimaru was a heartless bastard, but he wouldn't do this. Jiraiya scowled at the piece of scale on his finger. Why would he? Everything made sense but the motive. He groaned. He needed a pair of fresh eyes on this. Tsunade would know what to make of it.
Tsunade's face hardened as she digested his words. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying-" Jiraiya exhaled slowly, a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I don't know. You tell me."
Tsuande did not speak to him for a whole minute. When she did there was doubt in her voice. "Why- why would he do this?"
Jiraiya ground his teeth. "I don't know." It was a question he had asked himself over and over again on the way to Tsunade's place. "He's always been a weirdo." But even to his own ears that explanation lacked conviction.
"But you're his friend. We're his friends. He wouldn't do this," Tsunade said weakly. But she was chewing her lip, and Jiraiya could see that she was thinking about Nawaki. That night his body was brought before them.
Jiraiya rested his head in his palm, massaging his bleary eyes. "We shouldn't jump to conclusions just yet. Maybe he has an explanation for this."
Jiraiya could tell, though, that Tsunade's heart had ossified. "Yes," she muttered. "Yes, we owe him that much."