Those Three Words

by Milton Library Assistant

It’s going to be their first New Year’s married. It ought to feel strange but it doesn't and that, she figures, is kinda strange in itself. Tsunade reflects on her and Jiraiya’s relationship and the past year while spending New Year’s with him. (some canon-divergent timeline in which Nawaki is still alive, Tsunade's parents are still around, and her and Jiraiya ended up together)

Thank you todeathbymistletoe for the awesome betaing!

---

It's going to be their first New Year's married.

The thought strikes Tsunade as she wakes up that morning, in the warm bed beside a quietly snoring Jiraiya. Outside the bedroom window, she can glimpse the sun peeking up over the horizon. There are tiny snowflakes glistening in the pale morning light.

Their first New Year's.

It ought to feel strange, like something new and untried, but it doesn't and that, she figures, is kind of strange in itself.

They haven't been together, like this, for very long.

They got married in the spring earlier this year, amongst blossoming cherry flowers and chattering barn swallows in a quiet little town to the west of Konoha. It was a quiet ceremony. No reception, no commotion. No one present but the two of them, Nawaki, and a couple of toads, which is what Tsunade wanted. Nobody else was invited. Not any of their friends, not any of their fellow shinobi, not Tsunade's parents.

Certainly not her parents.

Not that they would have wanted to come in the first place. She hasn't forgotten (will never forget, never forgive) what they said to her when she told them she was getting married to Jiraiya.

(The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Her parents glanced at each other and Tsunade felt oddly taken aback. She hadn't expected them to be happy for her, no way, but she hadn't expected this either.

Her mother was the first to break the taut silence.

"You want to marry him?" she said with ill-disguised disgust. "Why? He's nothing. No one."

Her father didn't say a thing, just shook his head and laughed bitterly.)

Tsunade breathes out slowly, tries to quell the unavoidable anger that always prickles under her skin when thinking about them. She turns to look at Jiraiya instead, watches him sleep so soundly, his big chest bobbing up and down with each calm breath. She feels herself calming too, a familiar, comfortable warmth settling in her chest.

It had taken her so long to put words to this feeling. Words that she had shied away from for so long—that she still shies away from.

("I want to be with him," she told them. "I… I love…"

"You love him?" Her mother's voice was filled with reproach. Contempt. "Love is banal; it's fleeting. Family is forever."

"Family is everything," was the only thing her father said.)

She lifts her hand to Jiraiya, the tips of her fingers gently tracing the side of his face, the curve of his cheekbone and jaw. He is her family now. In a way, he has always been her family.

As she retracts her hand, Jiraiya stirs a little. "Don't stop," he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

Tsunade does stop, but only to lean in closer and press a soft kiss to his lips. "Good morning."

Jiraiya blinks his eyes open, squinting at the light, grinning as he sees her. Contentedly, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her close. "Morning, princess," he mumbles. "You're up early."

Usually, it's Tsunade who's the one to sleep in, who wants to linger in the warm, cozy bed as long as she possibly can. She's always been like that. She'd hoped it would pass with time and age, but now, at twenty-five, she's still as tired in the mornings as ever.

Jiraiya snuggles closer, buries his face in her hair. "I wanted to get up before you, make us breakfast in bed. Something real classy." His voice is slightly muffled, his breath like a warm blanket.

"You still have time for that."

"Yeah, I know, but the kitchen's so cold and far away and you're so soft and warm… I just wanna stay here."

She nuzzles closer too, into his big chest, reveling in his warmth and his scent. "Stay," she decides.

Jiraiya murmurs happily, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. She can feel him running his hand through her hair, his fingertips scraping lightly against her scalp. She'd never admit to it, but she thinks she murmurs happily herself.

"Wanna open your New Year's gift, princess?" Jiraiya asks.

When Tsunade nods, he opens the nightstand drawer and takes out a small box wrapped in glittering white paper. The red bow on top looks like a little rose.

"Tada." He grins widely as he presents it to her. "Don't you love it already?"

Inside it, Tsunade finds a necklace with a small heart-shaped pendant. It's thin and light and pretty in its simplicity, but also, she thinks, a little corny. Like something a teenager would give to his crush. But it's so very Jiraiya, and—more than anything—she likes that.

"I've had it for quite some time, actually," Jiraiya tells her. "Since before the second war. I wanted to give it to you before we shipped out but… well, I didn't have the guts."

Tsunade remembers that time just before the second war started—them being seventeen, that one kiss they shared. How she'd thought that maybe, just maybe, the two of them could've been something more. But then the war happened, Nawaki's attack happened, Dan happened.

For a time, she and Jiraiya drifted apart.

But it didn't last too long. He's always been, it seems, as inevitable in her life as the sun in the sky. She remembers what she said to him that day she finally told him she wants to be with him.

("Jiraiya, I think I…" she started, but it, inevitably, came to a stop. Then she sighed an annoyed, frustrated sigh because she was annoyed and frustrated so that was how it came out.

Why does this have to be so fucking hard? she thought. So hard and unnatural and terrifying. It's just three words. Three words which could mean everything or nothing, be reciprocated or thrown back into her face like a rotten kaki fruit. Tsunade didn't like it, didn't want to invite another person in to hurt her like that. Still, some things just have to be said or they'll end up suffocating you.

She rephrased it. "I can't stop thinking of… of…"

Fuck. Maybe it was worth the slow, agonizing death after all.

But Jiraiya just tilted his head and asked her, "You can't stop thinking of what?" and looked so clueless it pissed Tsunade off to no end. And if there's one time Tsunade gets talkative, it's when she's pissed off.

"Of you, you fucking idiot! You're like a cockroach, I just can't get rid of you!"

Not very heartfelt perhaps, but Tsunade has never been a very heartfelt person. Jiraiya just laughed and pulled her close, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

"How can I not love you?" he whispered quietly against her skin.)

Jiraiya nods towards the heart-shaped necklace. "I've never given you jewelry before," he says. "Which is a travesty, honestly. What kind of husband doesn't get his wife jewelry?"

"I don't wear jewelry." Not anymore, not since she gave her grandfather's necklace to Nawaki. She doesn't like the weight of it.

"I know. I thought you could keep it on your vanity, maybe look at it now and again and be reminded of how incredibly romantic I am."

"Incredibly sappy, you mean?" Tsunade laughs, picking up the necklace from the box.

"You don't have to put it on if you don't want to," he assures her.

She knows that, knows he won't be hurt if she doesn't wear it. But she wants to. She likes to be reminded of the good things in her life.

The necklace is light around her neck, the metal a little cold against her skin. She runs a finger along the smooth edge of the heart-shaped pendant.

"It isn't gold," Jiraiya mumbles guiltily. "Sadly, I'm not that romantic. Or that well-off."

"I don't care," Tsunade says, because she really doesn't. "I like it."

His face lights up in one of his big goofy grins. He looks so utterly pleased, Tsunade can't keep from laughing.

"I was thinking of buying you some lingerie too," he continues, his grin getting a little racier. "I looked at a couple of things that would fit you perfectly. There were these wonderful pink ones—ow!" Tsunade pokes him in the side of the ribs, not very hard, but he still acts it out like the drama queen he is. Rubbing at the spot, he looks at her with big, pitiful eyes. "I can't fantasize about my wife?"

She snorts. "Yeah, I'm sure that's what the shopkeeper thought you were doing when you stood there drooling over the underwear like a total creep. Gods, Jiraiya."

"That wasn't what happened!"

"Wasn't it?"

"Well, eh…" There's a short pause, then he smiles meekly at her. "I love you."

"Don't even try," she huffs. "At least you didn't buy anything."

He says nothing, his face completely straight, and that's never a good thing when it comes to Jiraiya.

Tsunade sighs deeply. "You bought something."

"Yeah, I bought something. But I'm sure you're gonna love it, princess! One hundred percent. Well, maybe ninety-nine percent, but that's pretty good odds too, right?"

He opens the nightstand drawer again and picks up another, slightly larger, gift-wrapped box. Tearing away the silky wrapping paper, Tsunade finds a pink bra and matching panties. It's pretty standard stuff as far as lingerie goes; however…

She stares at Jiraiya, eyes narrowed dangerously. "These are not my size."

"Oh?" He blinks. "Well, I didn't remember exactly, so I ballparked it. Are they too small?"

"Too small!?"

"Yeah. I can get you larger ones if you like—"

With a growl Tsunade throws the underwear aside and jumps him, wrestling him down into the bed. Jiraiya wriggles about, half-heartedly trying to get her off him. His big chest is bobbing up and down with laughter.

"I'm sorry, princess!" he half-whimpers, half-giggles. "It was a mistake!"

Like always, Tsunade easily overpowers him. Sitting straddled over his stomach, she pins his wrists to the bed. "Surrender!" she demands.

"I surrender! Please, I surrender…"

The moment she lets go of his wrists, he moves, flipping them over so that he ends up on top. Being so large compared to her, he covers her completely, yet she doesn't feel small at all. She never has with him.

"Dirty liar," she murmurs; she tries to make it an accusation, but it's hard when she can't get the silly grin off her face.

Jiraiya grins back, looking very much like he thinks it's the greatest of compliments. "Oh, I am quite dirty, all right…"

Tsunade should smack him for that, but instead she pulls him down into a kiss (how does that always happen?) and, as usual, one kiss begets another. And another. And another.

She tries to disengage several times because she needs to give him her gift too, but it's so very hard to pull away when he presses his mouth to her neck just like that, letting his lips glide over her skin, his tongue grazing her collarbone…

"Jiraiya…" she groans, a little out of breath. "Cut it out. I need to give you your New Year's gift."

"Can't it wait?"

She feels his hands on her thighs, fingers drawing gentle circles and, fuck, she almost gives in. Almost.

She sucks in a breath. "No, it can't wait! Don't be such a perv."

"It's not pervy when we're married."

He gives her another peck on the lips, before she uses what little restraint she has and pushes him off of her.

She gives him a pen set: five elegant handmade brushes, a calligraphy pen, and an inkwell, all housed inside an elaborately engraved case. Blossoming cherry flowers on dark oak. Both pretty and kind of sappy, Tsunade thinks, just like he likes it.

Jiraiya's eyes shine.

"I've wanted one of these sets since I was a kid," he tells her, letting his fingers tenderly glide over the brush handles. "I used to walk past the shop that sells these, used to stand in front of the display window for hours just staring at them." Shaking his head, he looks at her again. "I love it, princess, I really, really do, but I know how much these cost. It's too much—way too much—to spend on me. You must have saved up for ages…"

She laughs. "Just shut up and enjoy it, idiot."

He pulls her close, giving her a fierce kiss. "Thank you so much," he whispers.

Feeling very pleased with herself, Tsunade pulls Jiraiya's lips to hers again and kisses him hungrily. He responds in kind, nipping gently on her lower lip. Gods, yes. Her arms go around his neck, pulling him flush against her; his warmth bleeds into her. She wants to feel him, wants to be as close to him as she possibly can…

"Just a sec, princess." This time it's Jiraiya who pulls away. "I need to inaugurate the pen set."

"Can't it wait?" It comes out as a whine, but Tsunade can't bring herself to care. She's all too worked up to be patient.

"It won't take long." He gives her lower lip another cheeky little nip, then reaches for the pen set.

The brushes are made of the same dark oak as the case. He chooses one with great care, then takes Tsunade's arm. The bristles are soft but tickle her skin a little; she likes the smell of the ink. Jiraiya works ardently with deft, careful hands, producing some very neat-looking kanji. His handwriting is pretty, always has been (it probably comes with spending most of your free time penning corny love stories), but from Tsunade's point of view, the curly upside-down writing is a bit hard to read.

"What does it say?" she asks.

He reads:

"A little bit of love,

A little bit of happiness,

And a little bit of pain.

That's the fuel

That lights the fire

That puts our stupid hearts aflame."

"A love poem. Ugh, I should have known."

"That's not all." His fingertip grazes the ink on her skin as he reads it. It's barely a touch, but it still gives Tsunade goosebumps all over.

"It's the season of eyes meeting over the noise,

And holding fast with sharp realization."

Tsunade recognizes those lines. It's from that song that's played on the radio every New Year's. Soft piano music, a woman singing very quietly. It's almost like she's whispering into your ear.

"Unoriginal," Tsunade says.

"It's tradition," Jiraiya counters. "I can sing it if you want. As you know, I do have a lovely, carrying voice."

"And have the neighbors complain again? No, thanks."

"Well, to be fair, it wasn't that loud activity they were complaining about." He smirks, because being an annoying pervert is, as she's well aware, the greatest pleasure in his life. He reads next:

"I own the world since I met you,

Wealthy beyond what is known,

Still, so poor that not even

a single drop of blood is my own.

"Better?" he asks.

This time she shakes her head, but can't keep the smile from her face. That is quite pretty. Sort of. In a corny way. "Awful," she says.

"Tough crowd. I got one more, though! My magnum opus, nothing short of perfection, et cetera, et cetera... Sound promising?"

"Gods, no."

"It's the last one, I swear." This time his fingers leave her lower arm and he takes her hand instead, holds it gently against his chest just over his heart. Tsunade can feel its steady, rhythmic beat. "It's yours," he murmurs softly.

Gods, that's sappy. Awfully, terribly sappy, even Jiraiya must know that. Still, she can't stop smiling like she's a damn sap herself. She knows he means it, knows he always means what he says, that he doesn't care if other people think he's stupid or naïve or utterly hopeless for it. It's wonderful.

Tsunade pulls him against her again, takes his mouth with hers with warm ferocity. Jiraiya isn't slow to follow, isn't afraid to take what she gives nor give all of himself for her to take. Their bodies entwine; his arms go around her waist; she cards her fingers through his hair. The hard muscles of his chest press against her oh so enticingly. Still, it's not enough for Tsunade. Far from it.

Jiraiya clearly senses her eagerness, because he's got such a self-satisfied smirk on his face. His hand shifts higher up under Tsunade's shirt, calloused fingertips tracing her skin up to the underband of her bra.

"Go on," she urges him, "they're right there."

"So impatient," he tuts, like he's any better, like she can't feel just how riled up he is too.

She produces something that's a cross between a huff and a laugh, nipping his lower lip as punishment. "Fucking tease."

"It's not my fault that I'm so unbelievably irresistible that you can't seem to contain yourse—"

She rocks her hip against his, and as he moans out loud she catches his mouth with hers again. Slipping her tongue between his lips, she deepens the kiss, feels his hands twitch and clench the fabric of her shirt. But Tsunade isn't done. She pushes him off of her, sits on top of him, a satisfied smile on her lips as she watches him pant and squirm beneath her. The yearning in his eyes is unmistakable.

Oh, how the tables turn.

"So impatient," she purrs. "If you admit defeat I might just give you what you want."

But Jiraiya isn't one to give up that easily. He is someone she can always count on not going down without a fight, not being afraid to dish it right back to her. She loves that, loves the bite in him, loves their fights.

"Never." He grins despite looking like he's in great pain. "I'll never surrender—you surrender." He runs his hand up Tsunade's leg, under the shirt she's wearing (one of his short-sleeved ones), and up between her thighs. She has to bite her lip to not curse out loud.

Fuck him. Fuck never—she'll show him never.

Trying to ignore the very unignorable hand, she grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it off, leaving her sitting there on top of him in nothing but her bra and panties. Looking down at him through heavy lashes, she feels a little like a viper eyeing up her prey. "How about now? Ready to give up?"

Jiraiya swallows, that teasing, contrary glimmer in his eyes faltering. His hand has stilled, is now firmly gripping on to her thigh instead. Still, he manages to shake his head.

"How about now?" Tsunade presses. It's very much not a question. She starts grinding her hips against him—slowly, deliberately—firmly holding his gaze, a smile playing on her lips.

He sucks in a breath, seems to fight himself for a few seconds, but then pulls her down into a deep, aching kiss. His hands move to her hips, helping her along in the movement.

She nips the lobe of his ear, laughing a little. "I win."

"You win." He's laughing too.

Everything comes off—he lets her pull his shirt off, she bends down so that he can unlatch her bra. The feeling of her skin against his with nothing in between is so natural. So enticing.

Jiraiya's hand continues where it left off, coming to rest between her thighs, only now without the boundary of her underwear. This time, Tsunade does curse out loud, pressing against him as he works his fingers inside of her, gently stretching and rubbing.

She comes very quickly. Not embarrassingly so, but she normally manages to hold on a bit longer than this.

After she's caught her breath a little, Jiraiya reaches into the nightstand drawer for a condom. She puts it on him slowly, slowly, while he's got his eyes shut tight, low breathy moans escaping his mouth. Tsunade enjoys it very much. Enjoys the feeling of him ready for her, all roused up by her—but that doesn't top what comes next.

Sitting up a little higher, she slides down onto him, relishing the feeling of him filling her up completely. She stays like that for a couple of moments, in that connection, their bodies fitting so perfectly into each other.

His nails bite into her skin as she starts rolling her hips. Small sounds of pleasure escape her throat, and he responds with growls of his own.

"Enjoying yourself?" she laughs.

"Fucking hell." Jiraiya sounds breathless. "Don't stop. Never stop." He pulls her down to him again, his mouth searching for hers, their noses bumping together a little clumsily. Not that Tsunade cares—she wants more, more.

Their bodies move together faster; their hands and mouths get greedier. Jiraiya's mouth strays to her breasts, her breath getting caught in her throat as his tongue flicks the nipple, his teeth gently grazing it.

Fuck. It's starting to get hard to think; the primal part of Tsunade's brain is taking over, urging her to chase that tantalizing high.

She gets closer, closer.

Jiraiya too. His breath is heaving, his eyes hazy with pleasure. "Are you…? I'm almost—" His voice gets caught in his throat.

"Yeah," is all Tsunade manages to say, "yeah…" Then—

She thinks she cries out, rather loudly, and she doesn't care in the slightest. She presses into him and he holds on to her so tightly, says her name in that deep, breathy way he always does when he comes. It barely registers for her; nothing matters now but this feeling, but being as close to him as she can possibly get.

After, she slumps down onto him. Breathes deeply. Just stays like that for a little while. The high dampens, but warmth lingers in its absence, a warmth so fierce and deeply rooted in her chest it's like it has always been a part of her.

She feels Jiraiya relaxing under her, his breath calming too. She traces her fingertips over his well-muscled chest, reveling in the moment, in knowing someone so intimately you can close your eyes and trace every curve of their body, their every scar, by heart.

Mine, she thinks possessively, smugly. All mine.

Before long their mouths find each other again, but this time the kisses are slower. Lighter. It's still very intimate, but in a different way from before. There are nose nuzzles, giggles, silly little jokes. Jiraiya is so big and warm against her. So safe. Could she, Tsunade would stay like this forever.

Jiraiya sighs contentedly. "Mm… The perfect way to start the new year."

"It's still the old year," Tsunade points out.

"It's the perfect way to end the old year as well. But yeah, I agree with you, princess. We'll have to do this again at the start of the new year."

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"No, I didn't. Sex isn't constantly on my mind, because unlike you, I'm not a massive pervert."

"It's not pervy when we're married, it's beautiful! Like an old tome filled with heartfelt poetry, or an overgrown field of wildflowers, or slipping your fingers underneath your wife's pink, lacy lingerie. Mm…"

Tsunade laughs. "I hate you."

"Do you really? You're breaking my heart, princess."

"Oh, you and your wussy heart."

"Not mine." Jiraiya leans his cheek against the top of her head, sighs contentedly again. "Not anymore."

Tsunade traces one of his scars down his chest, over that wussy heart—her heart. Feels her own insides buzzing pleasantly with warmth and contentment. With love.

This is a perfect moment to say it—that thing you're supposed to say to people you love. Those three words. It's way, way overdue. But Tsunade has never been good with those words, or words in general, or feelings (other than anger—she's an expert at that), so it doesn't come naturally to her. It never has. She doesn't think it ever will.

She hesitates. The moment passes. Jiraiya has dozed off, snoring quietly again.

Her underarm catches her gaze. It's covered with smudged ink—Jiraiya's now illegible poems. How is he so good at that? He comes up with a thousand ways to say I love you and, even now after being married for almost one year, Tsunade can't even manage one.

Gods… She's twenty-five and she's never told anybody she loves them. Not Jiraiya, not even Nawaki. How sad is that?

She lies there just watching him for a while.

"I love you," she whispers.

He stirs a little in his sleep, but doesn't wake.

---

After a long shower and a late breakfast, Jiraiya wants them to go to the New Year's market. Says he has a surprise for Tsunade, something 'real romantic'.

The New Year's market—or the thousand lanterns market, as it's also called—is a big fair-like market that's set up in Konoha at the end of every year. It's located in the outskirts of the village's center, close to the Naka River, and has always been a well-liked New Year's tradition for the populace of Konoha.

However, before they go there, Jiraiya also insists they stop by the commercial district.

"We need to get condoms!" he exclaims loudly as they're making their way down the crowded, wintry street. "We're almost out."

"Jiraiya!" Tsunade hisses.

People are staring at them—a little old lady even about-turns and walks the other way. "Mommy, what are condoms?" a little child asks his mom. She just shushes the kid, throwing them the evil eye.

Jiraiya has the gall to chuckle. It earns him a nudge in the ribs from Tsunade.

"Ow! Princess…"

"Why don't you say it a little louder next time? Someone in Suna might not have heard you." With a snort, she turns and starts walking the opposite way down the street.

"Hey! Where are you going? It's this way for the… unmentionables."

She flips him off. "You're a big boy, you can buy them yourself. I'm going to see if Nawaki is at the teahouse. I'll meet up with you later."

Tsunade hasn't gotten very far when Jiraiya catches up with her. Leaning down, he presses a tender kiss to her cheek. "See you later, princess," he says, and grins one of those stupid, goofy grins that never fails to make Tsunade smile herself.

She sighs, watching him disappear down the street. Before he's completely out of sight, he turns to her again and shouts, "It's not pervy when we're married!"

"Shut up, idiot!" she shouts back.

But he's already gone, faded into the crowd, laughing like a madman at Tsunade's second-hand embarrassment. That big idiot.

"I've never met that man before in my life," she assures a random passerby. Then she turns too, but before she starts off towards the teahouse she glances over her shoulder in the direction Jiraiya disappeared, smiling.

Letao Teahouse lies in a quieter part of the commercial district—just off the main street, tucked in between a small bookshop and a watchmaker's. It's the place where Tsunade and Nawaki meet whenever he manages to get away from the Senju-tei—the grand Senju residence—and their parents.

However, she doesn't have much hope he's actually there now. Their get-togethers have been few and far between lately—it has already been several months since the last one. Sometimes Tsunade visits the teahouse just to wait for him, hoping he'll show up. He doesn't, generally. But it's worth every try: worth the wait and the inevitable heartbreak, if only for a miniscule chance to see her little brother. She misses him something fierce.

Tsunade enters to find the teahouse mostly empty. There's a middle-aged couple having some sort of argument by the pastry display case; a little old lady sitting alone by a table, wistfully observing the street outside; but no Nawaki.

The radio behind the counter is playing that New Year's song—piano music and a woman quietly singing:

"It's the season of scars and of wounds in the heart

Of feeling the full weight of our burdens."

How appropriate.

Heart heavy, Tsunade is about to turn to leave when someone calls out to her.

"Sis!"

He's there—Nawaki's there—at a table hidden away in a far end corner.

"Nawaki!" She rushes over, pulls him into a tight hug. It's the kind of hug the Senju normally don't do, that would be considered uncouth in the Senju-tei. Ungraceful. But they're not at the Senju-tei now, and Tsunade is not a Senju. Not anymore.

"Tsuna…" Nawaki whines a little half-heartedly, but hugs her back just as tightly.

He looks the same as always—the same hellion smile, the same mischievous glint in his eyes (well, in the one eye he's got left)—though, now seventeen, he isn't the same energetic troublemaker he was when he was younger. Most of that ended after the attack, that mission he went on at the beginning of the second war. It left him with scars that will never heal, but he got out alive. Tsunade is forever thankful for that.

As Nawaki sits back down again, there's a slight grimace on his face. It's fleeting, like he's trying hard to not let it show, but she notices.

"Are you okay?" she asks, eyeing him worriedly.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Have you taken your pain medication today? If it's not sufficient I can talk to your doctors at the hospital—"

"It's fine, really. I'm fine. Just leave it, okay?"

"…Okay." She sits down opposite him. Ignores the prickling tightness in her chest. Smiles instead. "It's been so long."

"I know, sis. Mom's been watching me like a hawk; she's probably gotten wind of our meetings. I'd try to get away more, but… it's kinda hard for me to outrun her—or anyone—anymore." He sighs, leaning his arm on his crutch.

They managed to save his leg after the attack, but he still has a severe limp and wouldn't be able to walk without the crutch.

Again, guilt prickles under Tsunade's skin. She shakes her head. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm not scolding you…"

"I know. Things are what they are."

"Yeah…"

They lapse into a somewhat taut silence. There's a half-empty cup of tea in front of Nawaki; he taps its rim abstractedly. The tightness in Tsunade's chest grows worse.

"I'm… I'm happy you managed to get away today."

"Me too." He perks up a little, but his smile falls almost immediately. "Though I won't be able to stay very long… If I'm not back for Mom's New Year's party later, she's gonna have a fit."

Ugh. Their mom's parties… That's a thing Tsunade is glad she doesn't have to deal with anymore. Smiling and talking and being polite to people she barely knows and who only see her as a means to an end has never been her strong suit. She had so many fights with their parents about those stupid parties.

Tsunade snorts. "Well, at least I'm not there to screw them up anymore."

"Yeah, lucky you." Leaning back into the chair, Nawaki smiles at her. "So, tell me about how you've been doing, sis. Everything all right with you and the big oaf? I'm guessing that's from him." He nods to the heart-shaped necklace around Tsunade's neck and winks. "Very cute."

"Stop it. We're both fine. Jiraiya's off buying some… stuff. And probably getting himself arrested or something." She really hopes Jiraiya is only getting the condoms and not deciding to buy her more lingerie. Or anything else. Oh, that big idiot.

Nawaki shakes his head, laughing a little. "That sounds like him, all right. You've never liked things easy, have you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, you know…"

Tsunade crosses her arms, can't help the sudden defensiveness in her tone. "No, I don't know."

"Oh, don't be like that, sis. I'm not Mom and Dad, you know I like Jiraiya…" Nawaki sighs, fiddling with his teacup again. "Still, things would probably be a lot easier if you had just went with Dan."

"…I know."

But she didn't, though it had been quite close. She and Dan used to be engaged, but soon after the second war ended they both decided it wasn't right and went their separate ways. There was no ill will or resentment, except from Tsunade's mom, who thought Dan was perfect.

(Did you know Tsunade used to be engaged to Kato Dan? You know, from the Kato clan, one of the great clans of Konoha. Did you know Dan has aspirations of becoming the Hokage someday? So very admirable, isn't it? Oh, they were such a lovely couple…)

She kept bringing it up—to Tsunade herself, to every guest at every party she threw, and when Tsunade started going out with Jiraiya, even to him. Especially to him. It made Tsunade furious and was yet another thing she fought with her parents about. Yet another thing that caused shouting and threats and tears (her mom's tears—Tsunade had long since promised herself never to cry because of them).

When she eventually decided that she wanted to marry Jiraiya, it was the straw that broke the camel's back.

("You provoke and provoke and you never stop," her father said. "This time there will be consequences."

"We care for you, Tsunade, like only parents can", her mother continued. "But this seems to be the only way you'll learn."

"Learn what?"

"Grace."

It was the last thing her mother ever said to her.)

A great part of being disowned is that she doesn't have to deal with their bullshit anymore. A less great part is that they won't let her see Nawaki and have forbidden him from having any contact with her. They've said it's because they don't want him to associate with someone who's such a poor role model to him, but Tsunade knows it's also a punishment. Them doing the one thing they know will hurt her the most. That it's also hurting Nawaki doesn't seem to be of any concern to them.

Her little brother is staring at his teacup again, like it's the most interesting thing in the world. His fingers are absentmindedly tracing the necklace he's wearing. Their grandpa's necklace. It's catching the light from the windows, making the stones glitter in a rainbow of colors—red, orange, green… Those tiny stones that could buy a mountain, that look so light, but are so, so heavy. She knows they are.

"It's just, you know…" Nawaki mumbles. "It's been so long since we last saw each other and…"

His voice tapers off, but Tsunade understands. She feels it too—the lack, that dull heaviness that comes with missing someone who's supposed to be in your life. Someone you love.

"Yeah," she says. It comes out as a mumble, like she's ashamed to admit she misses him. But no, it's not that she's ashamed of. "I wish things were different. I wish…" She pauses, has to think a little longer about this because what does she wish? Does she wish she backed down, didn't marry Jiraiya—did as her parents told her to?

She tried that, tried doing what they want her to do. She tried and tried and tried her entire childhood and adolescence, when she was stupid or naïve enough to believe that was what she had to do to belong. To be loved.

It was never enough.

And even if things hadn't ended up like they did—even if she had chosen Dan or somebody else—Tsunade is convinced everything would have turned out the same. She and Nawaki would still be here, just like this. She knows herself well enough to recognize that.

But knowing that still doesn't make her feel any less guilty for leaving Nawaki, for not being able to be there for him as much as she should.

For fucking things up again and again.

"I'm sorry," she says, swallowing back the thickness in her throat. "For being such a lousy sister."

"Oh, come on, Tsuna…" Nawaki shakes his head vehemently, a deep frown on his lips. "You're not a bad sister. I don't blame you for what's happened; things just are what they are. Gods know I'd be outta there too if I wasn't—crap!"

He's tipped his teacup over. It rolls across the table, leaving a streak of cold, milk-white tea in its trail, and slips down onto the floor, disappearing far under his chair.

He sighs. Bends down to pick it up, a tight grip on the crutch to keep his balance.

"Let me do that," Tsunade offers.

"It's fine, I can manage."

"At least let me help you. I'll pull back the chair—"

"Tsunade," he says, his voice now a little harder. "I can manage."

Tsunade quiets. After a short while, Nawaki withdraws his hand from under the chair, the cup clutched tightly in his fist. Bracing his other hand on the crutch, he tries to rise—but the crutch slips on the wet floor, making him lose his balance.

"Ah!"

He hits the floor with a loud crash, making Tsunade's heart jump a beat.

"Nawaki!" She's beside him immediately. He's holding on to his side tightly, eyes squeezed shut. "Are you okay?! Let me see."

"No, I'm fine… I just slipped." His voice is level but strained. Sitting up, he shrugs her off and takes a few deep breaths. Then he grabs his crutch, trying to rise again.

Tsunade reaches for his arm. "I'll help you."

"No."

"Just let me—"

"No! I can do it myself!"

Tsunade quiets. She watches silently as Nawaki slowly, slowly manages to rise and seat himself in the chair. He pants a little, still looks to be in pain.

She can't help herself—she reaches out with her chakra, feels for his vitals. Increased heart rate and respiratory rate, increased blood pressure, temperature a little high. None of them are elevated to abnormal levels, but still…

"Are you sure you don't want me to look at it? At least let me take you to the hospital—"

"You're worse than Mom."

Tsunade opens her mouth. Then closes it. Sitting back down, she shakes her head. "Low blow."

Nawaki looks a little guilty. "I know, I'm sorry. You're not like Mom." But then he smiles, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You're way worse."

Tsunade laughs. "Shut up, brat." Still, she gets it—gets what he's getting at. "Sorry. I just get so worried sometimes… I can't help it."

"Yeah. Well, I'm sorry I brought that stuff with Jiraiya up before. For what little it matters, I think that you should be able to be with anyone that you want without it turning into the Third Shinobi World War. I've told Mom and Dad that, though they didn't seem very interested. Besides, like I said before—I like Jiraiya. I really do. He's fun and he's one of the only people that doesn't treat me like I'm, you know…" He sighs, stares at his empty teacup again.

"Like you're what, Nawaki?"

"Like I'm broken."

Fuck. Tsunade didn't mean—she never meant—to make him feel like that.

"You're not…" she starts, shaking her head fiercely. "I never meant—"

"I know."

Fucking hell… When it comes to Nawaki she can't seem to get anything right. Silently, she vows to try to do better, be better. What is that thing that Jiraiya keeps telling her?

(Stop coddling him, princess. Can't you see he doesn't want that? He's his own person; let him make his own decisions. Besides, you can't protect him forever.)

But that's just the thing. Nawaki is her little brother: she's supposed to protect him, keep him safe. And she hasn't. She doesn't think she will ever be able to forgive herself for that.

"Tsuna—" Nawaki starts, but he gasps when he sees the clock on the wall. "Crap! They've probably noticed I'm gone by now! I should head back, before they send the crazy eyes after me."

Clutching his crutch, he rises with some difficulty. It takes all the willpower Tsunade has to not rush to his side to help him. Instead she just smiles, trying not to look too disappointed by his sudden departure. "I'm glad I got to see you."

"Yeah, me too, sis. I'll try to come around more next year." This time, it's Nawaki who pulls her into the hug. "Stop worrying so much. Go and be happy."

"What about your happiness?"

"I'm fine, I promise. Actually, you know what would make me a bit happier? Jiraiya used to lend me these magazines…" He just laughs at Tsunade's glare. "Just kidding! Kinda. I really need to go now."

"Yeah." Sighing, she leans her head against his shoulder and he gives her a pat on the head.

"Were you always this small?"

"Stop it; I get that enough from Jiraiya."

"Well, you did marry a giant. I mean, I'm surprised he can even see you from up there…"

With a faux-offended snort, Tsunade gives him a gentle shove towards the door. "Get out of here, brat."

Nawaki laughs, and with a last "See you later, sis" he disappears out the door.

After leaving the teahouse Tsunade just drifts around in the alleys for a bit.

It has started snowing again, tiny snowflakes glittering in the early midday sunlight, dusting the streets and houses like powdered sugar. Like this, even the drab and cluttered commercial district of Konoha looks picturesque. All the little shops with their gaudy signs, the dirty cobblestone roads, the mess of power lines above, seem to soften in the wintry weather, becoming a little more like Tsunade remembers them from her childhood.

When she finally shakes her thoughts and looks around, she notices she's ended up in a part of the district she doesn't go to very often anymore—the posh part. And why would she go here? It's littered with shops and restaurants she almost can't afford to even look at anymore.

She walks past a teppanyaki-ya her parents, Nawaki and she used to frequent when she was younger. She remembers they used to have these amazing Wagyu skewers. Better than sex, she told Jiraiya once. She does grieve the loss of them.

Taking a right turn, Tsunade leaves it all behind.

She ends up on a little back street where the glamor and glitz of the previous area is nowhere to be seen. Instead, shops of a more risqué nature dominate the scenery—lingerie boutiques, bookshops selling literature with adult themes, convenience stores with nothing but alcohol and tobacco… In short, parents' and sweet little old ladies' nightmare.

However, on closer inspection (yes, Tsunade did decide to have a closer look at the storefronts; Jiraiya would be so proud of her) it doesn't seem so risqué after all. The bookshops have the porn tucked away under the counter, there are big signs declaring that you need proof that you're of legal age to buy any alcohol or cigarettes, and the underwear displayed in the boutiques' windows aren't that lewd. Tsunade doesn't even spot one single handcuff.

After a little while of offhand browsing she comes to stand outside one of the boutiques selling women's lingerie. In the little display window there's a curvy mannequin wearing a short pink nightdress adorned with intricate lace and quite a revealing cleavage.

Tsunade smiles to herself; she knows which idiot would love that. Actually, Jiraiya did say he had a surprise for her… Maybe she should get him a little surprise too? Show him how it's done.

The doorbell chimes brightly as she enters the shop.

It's like stepping into a candy store, except instead of shelves filled with candy in all the colors of the rainbow, there are shelves filled with underwear in all the colors of the rainbow. Instead of the little kid drooling at it all looking like he just stepped into heaven, she can imagine Jiraiya there drooling at it all and looking like he just stepped into heaven. That big idiot.

"Welcome, okyaku-sama."

The shopkeeper appears out of nowhere, greeting Tsunade with a small bow. It's a little old lady with the sweetest smile, looking like she just got back from making her grandkids some red bean-filled dorayaki. Not really what Tsunade expected from a place like this. Maybe she needs to reevaluate things…

"A gift, or for yourself?" the little old lady asks.

"Well, ah…" Tsunade hesitates, feeling her face heat. "Both, I guess. It's for my husband—I mean, he's not going to wear it, I'm going to wear it. He just… He likes these things—I mean, he's not like that… I just thought it'd be a nice surprise to, uh… Never mind!" Before Tsunade has the chance to flee the shop the little old lady speaks up again.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, dear. Lots of people come here to buy gifts for their significant others."

"Really? So it's not just… creepy old guys?"

"Certainly not. I don't actually have many of those in here; something seems to keep them away…"

Yeah, you don't say? Tsunade thinks, contemplating if she's got enough nerve to make it through being sold saucy lingerie by someone who looks like the sweetest grandma in the world, or if she should just fly the coop immediately and save herself the embarrassment.

"What color do you prefer?" the little old lady asks before Tsunade can come to a decision.

"Ehm… I like green, but I don't really want green, uh, underwear. I don't know, it doesn't matter that much to me."

"I see. Does your husband have any preferences?"

"Well… he likes pink on me, for some reason."

"Pink is a very sensual color," the little old lady agrees. "I think it will suit you, but then, most colors will suit someone as comely as you. You know, I had a lovely young man in here yesterday who was buying some things for his wife. He was also partial to pink."

"Oh."

"A very tall boy, that one. Very chatty too. Had the strangest sense of humor… but he was so enthusiastic." If the little old lady has noticed just how beet-red Tsunade's face has turned she has the grace to not let it on. "Couldn't stop talking about his girl… He seemed very in love."

Tsunade doesn't know what to say, just has that familiar feeling of wanting to punch Jiraiya and, at the same time, wanting to pull him close and just kiss him.

"Let's go with some pink ones," she finally decides.

"Certainly," the little old lady says. The glint in her eyes is both grandmotherly and impish at once.

Tsunade finds Jiraiya on the main street, gazing into the large window of an electronics shop. A television set—a thick, ugly wooden box complete with stubby legs and a rabbit-ears antenna—is on display and he stares at it with undivided attention.

He has never owned a TV, she remembers him telling her, could never afford one. He used to come here when he was younger and look at the displayed ones just after he was done looking at those pen sets.

Tsunade doesn't really care for TVs, doesn't see the point in them. Her parents had one, but she can't recall it ever being used. It had been more of a status symbol than anything else.

"Have you seen this, princess?" Jiraiya says as she approaches him, not taking his eyes off the box. "They have ones in color now. Can you believe it?"

"Oh, my gods," she says, seeing the price tag of that ugly thing. It's almost half a year of rent for them.

"Yeah, it's incredible, isn't it?" He gives it another longing gaze before turning to look at her. "Any luck with Nawaki?"

"Yeah, he was there." Tsunade laughs. "I actually got to see him… Can you believe that?"

Jiraiya's face lights up in a delighted grin. "Really? That's great! Ah, damn, I should have come too. How was he?"

"Well… Like usual." Her smile falls a little. "He said that Mom had kept him from coming. I think… I think he misses me. He didn't say it out loud, but…" There's a sudden lump in her throat; she presses it down. Feels Jiraiya's hand on her back.

"Don't blame yourself."

"It's hard not to."

"I know." He swallows, voice waning. "I'm sorry. I never wanted it to turn out like this."

His voice is thick with something; Tsunade knows exactly what. Recognizes that pained look in his eyes, that strain to his voice. He feels guilty. Guilty over a decision she made and consequences he has no control over.

She's tried to tell him it's rubbish, that 'It's not your fault, Jiraiya' and 'I'd do the same thing over again if I could'.

He doesn't seem to get it, not entirely.

It irritates her, sometimes, that even with everything he's accomplished and everything he is (a godsdamn Sannin and, more importantly, such a stupid, wonderful idiot who never fails to make Tsunade happy), he doesn't think much of himself. He doesn't think he deserves her.

Gods! There it is again, that feeling. That nagging desire to punch him in the face and, at the same time, just pull him close and hold him so, so tightly.

To hell with her parents for making him feel this way. But, more than anything, to hell with herself for letting them. It's not the first time.

She wonders if there will ever be a last.

(They kept their promise: marry Jiraiya and you won't be our daughter any more. Tsunade was fine with that. Didn't have any desire to call them her parents any more either.

She still cried.

Not in front of them, never in front of them, because that was below a Senju. That was ungraceful. That was showing them that she cared, which she didn't.

She didn't.

Jiraiya held her. Held her as she sobbed her ugly tears all over his big chest. Held her as she growled with an embarrassingly thick voice, "They threw me out! Told me I can't come back. Like I fucking want to, like I fucking care!"

He said nothing, just held her tightly as she cried and cried.

It was not until later that day, when Tsunade had calmed, that he said, in the thinnest voice he's ever had, "Maybe… Maybe you shouldn't break it off with your parents just because of this… I'm not worth it, honestly. That thing I asked you, and what you answered, we can just pretend it never happened."

Tsunade just looked at him. "Say that again," she said. "Say it like you mean it."

There was silence, Jiraiya looking everywhere but at her.

Tsunade gave him a hard jab in the chest. "I'm not gonna let them ruin another thing for me, not this. Not us. I want us and I'm fucking having it. So unless you want this to be over, unless you tell it to me like you fucking mean it, we're not pretending like it didn't happen, I'm not moving an inch. Got that?"

"The immovable object meets the very stoppable force," Jiraiya mumbled, still with that sad frown on his face.

"No, the very stoppable idiot." She put her hands on his chin, made him look at her. "I…" she said. "I…" One word, not three.

Somehow that was enough.

Jiraiya smiled softly, took her hand and pressed it to his chest. To that spot just over his heart.

And that was enough, too.)

Just like she did back then, Tsunade fixes her eyes on Jiraiya's, jabs him in the chest. "If I don't get to blame myself, you don't get to either," she says.

He just frowns the same sad frown, hangs with his head, says nothing.

"Stop it! I'm not leaving you and you're not leaving me, okay? Not because of this idiocy, not because of them. And if you ever even think about it, I'll clobber you so hard you'll regret you were ever born!"

Jiraiya finally looks at her. "I won't leave you, princess. Even if you fall out of love with me, I'll always be here for you. I'll always be your friend."

Tsunade stares at him, gaze sharp as a razor, daring him to lie to her.

Jiraiya manages a little grin. "Did I ever tell you about that time your dad came around to my apartment?"

"What?"

"He did. Came knocking one sunny afternoon and ordered me, in no weak words, to stay the hell away from you."

"That bastard…"

"You know what I told him? I said, 'Itama-sama, I'm not going away unless your daughter wants me to.'" He laughs; then he pulls Tsunade close, envelops her in his arms, and buries his face in her hair. Like that, she's completely wrapped up and tucked in, like a small animal hidden in its nest. Hidden from the world, from all harm. So very safe. He never fails to make her feel safe.

His words are warm against her skin. "I just want you to be happy."

"But I am happy!" Tsunade pulls away a little so that she can look him in the eyes. "Well, not with everything, obviously. But with what we have—with us—I am happy. Truly. Aren't you?"

"With all my heart." Such a Jiraiya response.

"It's not yours anymore, remember?"

They stand in silence for some time, his arms still around her. Tsunade glances at the display window again, at that ugly television set. There's a little kid on screen, decked in full shinobi gear, smiling like he can't imagine anything better than wearing those stupid clothes. Honor! Glory! Enroll your child in the Konoha Shinobi Academy, it says in square letters just above him. She sighs.

"We don't need one of those," Jiraiya says. "They're for suckers anyway, right?"

"Right."

Then he sighs too. "Next year will be better, princess, I know it. Nawaki will be eighteen, of age. Your parents won't be able to dictate what he can and can't do anymore."

"They still will." Nawaki is something that Tsunade never was, after all: a boy, the future of the Senju family. They'll never let go of him. "But I'll fight them," she says, "like I always have."

"And I'll be beside you," Jiraiya promises, "like I always have."

She sighs into his chest, hugs him a little tighter. "Next year will be better," she says.

They continue onwards, following the main street until they get to the edge of the commercial district. There, close to the frozen Naka River, the New Year's market is set up.

It's the middle of the day and it's bustling with activity. There's laughter in the air, people chatting, wishing each other a happy new year. Vendors smile jovially as they pass, restocking the various trinkets and knick-knacks they're selling, folding clothes or stacking books into piles, pouring colorful sweets into paper bags for excited children. Thick smoke rises from the food stalls. There's the mouthwatering scent of freshly cooked okonomiyaki and grilled yakitori skewers in the air.

Jiraiya has slipped his hand into Tsunade's, holding on to her tightly while he babbles on and on about the different things they come upon. She's thankful for it, for something grounding her, keeping her from getting lost in her own thoughts.

Soon enough they're having fervent discussions about which kind of street food ramen tastes the best, what trinkets and knick-knacks would fit in their little apartment, which part of the market to visit next. They bicker and laugh and Jiraiya can't seem to stop himself from pressing a kiss to the top of her head from time to time. Tsunade doesn't mind, only smiles contentedly and holds his hand a little tighter.

After a while they come across a small stall selling tablecloths, placemats, coasters, and other homely things.

Jiraiya gasps loudly. "Look, princess!" he says with reverence in his voice. "Toad placemats! These would go great with our shitty crockery."

"No."

"But Tsunade…"

"No! I won't have our apartment look like a five-year-old decorated it. Put them back."

Jiraiya looks at her with a sad frown, but puts the ugly things back. She knows he'll probably try to sneak them in at some point in the future, but that's something she will have to deal with then.

"Come on. Let's go and look over there, idiot." Pulling on his hand, she leads him towards another part of the market.

They stop by a cart filled with hand-knitted clothes—hats, gloves, scarfs, thick socks—and Tsunade sees a couple of green mittens that would fit Jiraiya really well. He could use a new pair; the ones he has now are so worn and peppered with holes she sometimes wonders why he even bothers with them. She turns to him, only to see his attention is elsewhere. The next stall over is also selling knitted clothes, but in children's sizes. In the middle of the table, among thick woolen jumpers and pastel-colored scarfs, lies one lonely pair of tiny baby socks. It's them Jiraiya is looking at, his gaze oddly soft.

It throws Tsunade off a little.

They have discussed it, having kids, and agreed that there won't be any. Neither of them wants that. They had both been very animated during that discussion.

("Why do people want them?" Tsunade asked, shaking her head like even the thought of having a baby was beyond all comprehension—which it was. "I don't get it. It's… senseless."

Jiraiya was quick to agree with her. "Exactly! What are they even for? When they don't shit or puke or both, they just lie there like little beans, doing nothing."

They carried on for quite some time, discussing in depth just how much it didn't make any sense at all, how yucky having a baby would be, how they'd never be suckered into something like that…)

So, Tsunade thinks, quietly observing Jiraiya observing the tiny socks, where is this coming from? It surprises her. However, what's even more surprising is that she feels no aversion, no disappointment—she's almost… pleased. Just a tiny, tiny bit, but still…

Pleased.

Where the hell is that coming from?

She has no time to put any more thought into it, because then Jiraiya turns to her—unaware, it seems, that she's been watching him—and says with a big grin, "Come on, princess. Time for your surprise!"

He takes her to a ramen-ya which lies a stone's throw away from the market. It's a hole-in-the-wall type of place, tiny and a bit dingy, but it looks to have some nice, affordable ramen. Through frosted windows they can see the grumpy owner peering out at them. Jiraiya grins and waves at him, before turning to Tsunade.

"Surprise!" he says. "I hope you're hungry. You recognize it? It's the first place I took you to when we started going out."

"Yeah." Tsunade remembers that. They were twenty-one and she had just had one of the worst rows ever with her parents. He wanted to cheer her up, he said. Which he had, but not in the way she thinks he expected. "It was a disaster."

"It was not! You're misremembering things, clearly. It was very romantic."

"You were so nervous you kept babbling on and on; I don't think I opened my mouth once. Well, at least not until you choked on that narutomaki and I had to perform CPR on you."

"Yeah, well… At least we kissed—that's romantic." Jiraiya sighs. "This time will be better, I promise."

"I didn't say it was bad… It was kind of entertaining watching you make a fool of yourself at first. Then it just became a lot like a normal day at work." She laughs, pulling him with her towards the entrance. "Let's eat, I'm starving!"

They have toshi-koshi soba every New Year's—buckwheat noodles in a steaming hot broth, topped with a creamy soft-boiled egg and a generous amount of scallions and narutomaki. It's tradition. The dish is supposed to bring you good fortune and a prosperous new year, though Tsunade has never known it to make any difference.

Sitting down at a corner of the counter, she and Jiraiya order a big bowl to share. It's not the best she's ever eaten (she was raised with the food of the posh district's incredibly expensive restaurants, after all), but it's hot and filling and exactly what she needs right now.

"Great, right? Ichiraku has the best ramen," Jiraiya says, enthusiastically slurping up some soba. He doesn't touch the narutomaki, however. "Oh, wait! I totally forgot." Putting down his chopsticks, he opens his mouth wide and looks at her with a meaningful gaze.

Tsunade just stares back at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Feed me."

"What? Why?"

"It's romantic! You wanted romantic, right? Come on, feed me."

"I'm not going to feed you. You're twenty-five, not three."

But he won't stop gaping, so Tsunade fishes up a narutomaki from the bowl and tries to stick it in his mouth. She laughs as Jiraiya promptly closes it. Apparently, he's not that romantic.

They have kagami mochi for dessert: soft rice cakes drenched in a dark sugary syrup. It's incredibly sweet and gooey; the syrup sticks to Tsunade's fingers. She (very deliberately) makes a show of licking it off, while Jiraiya watches her with a dreamy look in his eyes. And when he (very deliberately) mentions that his fingers are sticky too, she just laughs and pulls him into a sticky kiss.

After about two hours at the ramen-ya, bellies pleasantly full, they return to the market.

"You happy with your first surprise?" Jiraiya wants to know. "Delicious and romantic! What more can a girl ask for?"

"Another kiss?" Tsunade suggests, and he happily obliges, leaning down to take her mouth with his. His lips taste like sweet, sugary syrup and warmth and him, and even though they've kissed so many times before, it still makes Tsunade's stomach tingle, still makes her chest feel so comfortably warm.

"Wait," she says when they part, suddenly realizing something, "the first surprise? I thought there would only be one."

"There's three, actually. The second surprise is that there's more than one surprise."

She rolls her eyes.

"Oh, come on, that one was pretty funny. Anyway, time for your second—I mean, third surprise!"

Turning left, then right, Jiraiya leads her closer to the river. Eventually, the street opens up into a wider area. There's snow-dusted grass, a crowd of noisy people, and, at the center of everything, an ice-skating rink.

Tsunade feels her face soften into a smile.

She knows this place. She used to love skating, used to come here all the time when she was younger. She still loves it, she thinks. But she's a jonin now, and a medic, and that takes precedence over most other things. It must have been years since her last visit here.

She takes a moment to take it all in: the cold, white ice; the snowflakes glistening in the air. There are a lot of people out there—parents with their kids, teenagers, couples and friends—laughing and talking. Children are chasing each other around on the ice, excited smiles on their faces, and occasionally there are tears, whenever one of them falls down.

"You like it?" Jiraiya grins, seeing the expression on her face. "I remember you used to come here a lot when we were kids. You were great at skating."

"That was ages ago, though… I'll probably fall on my ass as soon as I get out there."

"Don't worry, I'll kiss it better afterwards."

"Perv." Sticking out her tongue at him, Tsunade eagerly goes to pick up some rental skates. As she ties them up, she can't stop smiling, can't stop the feeling of excitement—almost wonder—that comes over her. It's like being a kid again and, gods, it sure was a long time since she felt like that.

The first few strokes are a bit wobbly, but, bit by bit, it comes back to her. After she's completed a couple of laps, she feels confident enough to try her hand at a spin. She's a little out of practice, having to use both her feet when she lands, but still manages it quite well.

From the other side of the sideboard, Jiraiya gives her an applause. "You still got it, princess."

"Well, I am a bit rusty," she says, coming to a stop beside him. "You're not going to join me?"

"Eh…" He scratches the back of his head, a sheepish look on his face. "Nah, I'm good. I've never actually skated before, believe it or not. Could never afford the rentals… But I used to come here a lot as a kid, just to watch people fly around out there."

"Anyone in particular you had your eyes on?"

"Maybe. There was this really cute redhead—ow!"

"Come on." Tsunade laughs. "It's time you tried it out, it is really fun. I'll help you."

After getting his rental skates, Jiraiya stands by the side of the rink. He almost looks a little nervous. Then he sucks in a breath, stepping out on the ice. "Well, little kiddos can do this. It can't be that ha—aah!" He topples over in an instant, falls flat on his ass. "My ass!" he cries dramatically.

Trying very hard not to laugh, Tsunade skates up beside him. "Come on, up we go," she says, taking ahold of his arm. "Your ass will be fine. You'll get the hang of it soon, I promise."

She turns out to be right. Just like with ninjutsu, Jiraiya is a diligent learner. It doesn't go very fast, but he stays upright and even manages to do some turns without losing his footing. Eventually, he returns to solid ground. Says he needs a rest, says he has to recover mentally after being continuously outskated by six-year-olds.

So he stands by the side, huddled up in his coat, seemingly content with watching, while Tsunade loses herself in the ins and outs of spins, turns, and jumps. She falls a couple of times, perhaps getting a little overzealous, but always gets up and tries again until she gets it. It's punishing work, the ice hard and cold underneath her, but she enjoys it. Enjoys losing herself in something so completely she forgets everything else.

Panting and with sore limbs, she eventually returns to solid ground and Jiraiya, stands beside him and takes off her skates. Her cheeks are red from the cold and the exhaustion, her hair wild and messy. There's still that silly smile on her lips, too.

"You liked the surprise?" Jiraiya wonders.

Tsunade laughs. "Do I need to say it?"

He shakes his head and reaches forward, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You know, we should come here again if you want to. I'm in desperate need of some lessons, and who better to teach me than you?"

"That'd be great."

"My ass needs to heal first, though."

"Oh, you and your wussy ass…"

Their laughter intermingles, thick clouds of steam rising from their mouths up into the evening sky. Tsunade leans her head against Jiraiya's chest, feels his hand coming up and winding gently through her messy hair.

She sighs. "This was fun, really fun. Thank you."

"You're very welcome. I had fun too. Though, I can't say the same thing for my ass…"

"Stop talking about your ass."

"Never!"

Gods, what should she do with him? This big, big idiot.

Standing on tiptoe, she pulls him down into a kiss. Tries to make it slow and thoughtful, because this was such a thoughtful surprise. But that's just the way he is, she supposes. Under all that reckless bravado and those shit-eating grins, there is so much kindness. So much love. He brings out both the best and the worst in Tsunade and she loves that. Loves that she doesn't need to pretend or hold back, that she can be her rude and angry self around him. That he just looks at her like he can't imagine it any other way.

Her wonderful idiot.

Jiraiya looks down at her with eyes brimming with affection and Tsunade thinks, Now. Now would be such a good time. Come on, say it. They're just words, just three paltry words.

But kissing him is just so much easier. So she kisses him again a little deeper, tries to put it all into the kiss. Tries to make sure there's no doubt in his mind what he means to her.

Jiraiya returns the kiss with his usual fierceness, holding her a little tighter, and when they pull apart, immediately goes in for another one.

"Wait," Tsunade says and pulls away. She's already starting to feel a little out of breath. "Not here."

Kissing like this won't do in public, not in Konoha, especially not in a place that's littered with little kids and their parents. There would be disgruntled stares and murmurs. They would be asked to leave. They would perhaps even be banned from the site. Tsunade doesn't want that; she wants to come here again to skate, to teach Jiraiya the ropes. But she does also want to snog him really badly.

She takes his hand, pulling him away from the ice rink. "Come on."

There's a cluster of tall spruce trees nearby. They have thick, voluminous branches which should provide more than enough coverage for some naughty snogging. Hiding away there, they pick up where they left off—i.e., with her tongue in his mouth and his hands straying dangerously low on her back.

Needless to say, this is another thing Tsunade really likes losing herself in.

They haven't been at it for very long when suddenly, Jiraiya pulls away with a disgruntled huff. She's confused at first, but then sees he's looking at something, or someone, behind her.

"Hey!" he growls. "What are you doing there, you little punk? Scram!"

Tsunade turns to see a little boy, no older than two or three years, standing there and staring at them. The boy doesn't seem at all frightened or put off by Jiraiya's annoyance; he just puts his hands on his chubby cheeks and laughs.

"Something funny?" Jiraiya asks.

"You," the boy giggles. "Funny hair."

Jiraiya huffs indignantly, while Tsunade tries hard not to laugh. "He has a point," she tells him.

He just huffs again, turning to the boy. "A little kiddo like you shouldn't be on your own. Where are your parents?"

"I don know." Seemingly deciding that Tsunade and Jiraiya (and his hair) aren't very interesting any more, the little boy turns and starts toddling away from them. He seems to be going towards the river.

"Oi!" In a few quick steps Jiraiya has caught up with him, grabbing the back of his collar. "You stop right there, little bean."

"But duckies!" the boy whines.

"You can watch the duckies later. We're gonna go find your mommy and daddy."

"Mommy and Daddy," the boy echoes and doesn't protest when Jiraiya lifts him up into his arms to keep him from running away again. Contrarily, the boy seems to love it. "So high!" he squeaks happily. "I see evyfing!"

"You think this is high?" Jiraiya grins. "Check this out." He lifts the boy up to sit on his shoulders and the boy can't seem to contain his excitement. His happy laughter echoes across the streets as they start off towards the market to find his parents.

Jiraiya, being the big blabbermouth that he is, keeps the boy entertained. He jokes and laughs and is his fun, stupid self while Tsunade just stays in the background. She's thankful for that; she knows herself well enough to recognize she wouldn't mesh well with the little boy. She just wouldn't know what to do with him.

After a while, the boy's excitement wanes a little and something else grabs his attention. With big blue eyes and an open mouth, he starts staring at Tsunade. Just stares at her. And, for some ineffable reason, Jiraiya starts doing the exact same thing. So the two idiots, one big and one small, stare at her, while Tsunade adamantly pretends she doesn't notice.

After a long while ogling, the boy turns to Jiraiya. "Is that your mommy?" he asks.

At this, Tsunade just can't keep quiet. "What?! No, I'm not his mom! I'm not that old…"

The boy just looks confused. "Where is your mommy?" he asks Jiraiya.

"My mom? Well… I don't really have a mom."

"But… where is your daddy?"

"I don't have one of those either."

The little boy frowns deeply, looking very troubled by this revelation.

"It's all right," Jiraiya says, meeting his worried little face with a hearty smile. "Don't be sad for me, I'm fine—no, I'm great actually. I ended up marrying my best friend and the love of my life so I absolutely can't complain. And if I ever should, she'll break my nose." He sighs, a dreamy look on his face, seemingly unaware that he just made Tsunade sound completely unhinged.

Tsunade shakes her head. "Don't listen to him," she tells the boy. "His head has been permanently damaged by all the romantic crap he reads."

The little boy giggles. "You said a bad wojd. Mommy and Daddy says you can't say bad wojds!"

She raises an eyebrow. "Crap."

The little boy squeals with laughter. "Cwap," he echoes. "Cwap, cwap!"

Jiraiya can't seem to stop himself from joining in. "Cwap!" he exclaims, making the boy laugh even harder. "Mommy and Daddy are not gonna be very pleased with us, are they?"

The boy soon settles down. He yawns a big yawn and looks at Tsunade with his blue eyes again. Holding out his little arms towards her, he asks, "Can I?"

Gods, he looks like a tired little puppy—not even Tsunade can say no to that.

Jiraiya gently gives him over, and the boy nuzzles into Tsunade's arms, a small, warm weight against her chest. Leaning his head towards her shoulder, he seems happy but tired after all Jiraiya's shenanigans. Tsunade tries to take slow, careful steps to not disturb his peace.

They don't have to search much longer for the boy's parents.

Turning right into the market street closest to the ice rink, they hear a loud, outraged voice boom over the streets.

"Where is he?!" The voice belongs to an angry, dark-haired woman. "I can't believe this! You were supposed to look after him!"

"I did!" This time, it's a man with glasses and a desperate look on his face. "I took my eyes off him for two seconds, literally two seconds, and he was gone! Gods, where the hell did he go? Itsuki?! Itsuki!!" He sounds like he's on the verge of tears.

"Mommy and Daddy!" the little boy calls out as they approach the couple.

Immediately, the man and the woman turn, fight seemingly all forgotten. The dad rushes over and takes the little boy in his arms. "Itsuki! Gods above! You can't run away from me and Mom like that! We were so worried!"

"He was on his way to the river to see the duckies," Jiraiya tells him.

"What?!" The dad looks like he might have a heart attack any second.

The mom just shakes her head, sighing very deeply. "Gods… I can't thank you enough for bringing him back to us. Kids… You know how they are."

With a last thank you, the little family disappears down the street. The mom and dad hug the little boy to them tightly, the boy looking very at-peace in their embrace.

Looking after them, Jiraiya shakes his head. "Senseless," he tells Tsunade. But, again, there's that softness in his eyes.

Gods damn it, Jiraiya, Tsunade thinks.

They walk along the river.

While browsing the market and skating were fun, the bustle and noise of it never fails to make Tsunade exhausted, never fails to make her want to hide away and just have some silence around her.

So, while waiting for midnight—for the bells to ring and the lanterns to be released—they leave the bustling streets and walk the little winding path that runs along the frozen Naka River. It's quiet and empty, the noise of the market nothing but a distant, muted hum.

Slowly, they make their way: Jiraiya's arm around Tsunade's shoulders; the snow creaking under their feet; their breaths making little clouds in front of them. Jiraiya is humming quietly that New Year's song.

"It's the season of cold making warmth a divine intervention,

You are safe here, here in my arms."

On the ice sit several of the ducks the little boy had been so eager to see, tucked cozily against each other, feathers all puffed up.

"This takes me back…" Jiraiya says suddenly, his gaze trained on the darkening horizon.

"Hm?"

"I used to come here as a kid, you know. Every New Year's Eve…" That strikes Tsunade as a little odd, but before she can inquire about it he continues. "What did you do on New Year's when you were a kid?"

"Well… Mom throws these big parties every year. There's always tons of guests—only great clan people, of course—"

"Of course."

"—and so much bustling and talking and noise… Ugh. Me and Nawaki hated it. We used to escape, climb up on the roof of the main house and stay there until the lanterns were released. Mom was always so mad at us… Well, me in particular." Tsunade raises her voice a pitch as she mimics her mother's nagging tone. "You should be a role model to your brother, Tsunade. You should know better. Be better."

She tries to smile at the silliness of it, but doesn't quite manage.

Jiraiya pulls her a little closer, holds her a little tighter. "Watching the lanterns from the rooftop of your house must've been a sight."

Tsunade nods. "It was."

The Senju-tei lies on the White Hills, the highest point in Konoha save from the Hokage tower. It's quite a view from there—the village spreading out before you, the vast sky above.

She remembers those cold New Year's nights on the rooftop with Nawaki. The bells ringing, the lanterns rising from all over Konoha like an ascending star fall. It was always so beautiful to see.

"Why did you come here on New Year's?" she asks Jiraiya. "Didn't you celebrate at the orphanage?"

He shrugs. "Nah, nobody liked me there, not even the grown-ups. I don't blame them though, I was such an annoying little shit… I was fine here on my own. The view's actually pretty decent. I used to bring some hot tea and sit by a tree and watch the lanterns." He smiles fondly like it's a great memory—and maybe it is, but Tsunade still feels her heart ache a little when hearing it.

Their childhoods were so different. Worlds apart, almost.

No matter how much she fought with her parents, she'd still gotten everything she wanted. Had Nawaki and an entourage of great clan friends to keep her company. Jiraiya never even knew his parents. They died during the first war when he was just a baby, and he grew up dirt-poor in one of Konoha's orphanages for war children.

Tsunade glances up at him. "Fucking hell, Jiraiya. You were alone every New Year's? If I had known…"

He just shakes his head. "How could you? Besides, my woes weren't your concern nor your thing to fix. And it turned out all right in the end, didn't it? Now we can watch the lanterns together."

He grins at her. That grin, her grin. It both warms and hurts her a little this time. For so long he had nothing and no one, been so alone…

But, Tsunade thinks, he's not anymore.

Never again.

The sky has turned an inky black when they finally return to the market. It's quieter now and almost emptied out—most of the vendors have packed up and closed their stalls for the night. Instead, people are gathering in the nearby square, which is where Tsunade and Jiraiya are headed too.

While Jiraiya goes to buy them some lanterns, Tsunade huddles up in her coat, quietly observing the crowd around her. There's a sense of giddiness in the air, of expectation, that's almost palpable. People are chatting eagerly, holding tightly onto their lanterns; children are running around chasing each other and laughing, pointing up into the dark, starlit sky.

When Tsunade was a child, the lanterns were her favorite part of the New Year's celebration. They brought her hope. She wrote her dreams and wishes on those thin paper lights, released them into the sky, and truly believed that the gods, or whatever is out there, would see them. That they would hear her.

That hope soon left her, but she does still think they're beautiful.

"Got it," Jiraiya says as he returns a minute or two later, a lantern safely tucked into his arms.

For a moment, Tsunade wonders why he didn't get her one too, but then she remembers that married couples usually get one together. That their dreams and hopes now are supposed to be irrevocably interwoven—at least according to marital tradition. She doesn't know if she believes in that, doesn't necessarily think anything is irrevocable.

She remembers her and Jiraiya's wedding. The pretty sermon the priest had held, the pretty vows they'd told each other. Love is supposed to be so much, so many profound words and feelings, and it all makes Tsunade feel, in a way, inadequate. She's not good with words or feelings. She just knows that with Jiraiya it feels right, that they feel right. Does it need to be more complicated than that?

There's not much time left until midnight and the turning of the year.

Tsunade can feel it, that bubbling expectation underneath her skin, in her belly. What is that thing Jiraiya always says?

(The anticipation is half the fun, princess!)

Usually, Tsunade doesn't agree. She's not a patient person, doesn't like to wait, wants what she wants and wants it immediately. Spoiled, Jiraiya jokes, but that's not entirely wrong. Still, patient or not, there's nothing to do but wait. Wait for the bells to ring so that they can light the lanterns and finally release them into the sky.

"Our first time married… I'm almost a little nervous," Jiraiya confesses.

Tsunade cocks an eyebrow. "About what?"

"I don't know… Bad omens? What if our lantern doesn't take flight? What if it burns up?"

He's got a little wrinkle between his eyebrows. He has always been more of a believer than Tsunade, not necessarily in the gods or other divine entities, but in the belief that there's more to it all than just what meets the eye. But he's a writer. He likes stories, likes the fantastical in a way she never has.

"What if our lantern doesn't burn up?" she counters. "What if it floats up into the sky and all our dreams come true?"

He laughs. "Good omens! Let's hope for that."

Still grinning, he takes up a calligraphy pen from his pocket. After some careful deliberation, he writes his wish on the side of the paper lantern, then offers the pen to Tsunade. She doesn't really know what to write and just ends up with the usual generic wish.

Peace on earth and a good New Year, or something.

She never was a very creative person.

Tsunade knows she's not supposed to look at Jiraiya's wish, but she catches a glimpse of it as he tucks the pen back into his pocket.

May all her troubles soon be gone, it says in his pretty, curly handwriting.

It's close now, so close.

"Be ready!" someone in the crowd calls. Around them, lanterns light up; their own glows steadily. Her fingertips brush Jiraiya's as they both hold on to it.

Seconds later, bells start to toll into the night.

Tsunade and Jiraiya release their lantern. It floats slowly up, up. Doesn't burn, doesn't fall down. It joins the other hundreds of lanterns, and together they shine brightly, bathing the night sky in an almost-ethereal orange glow.

Huddled together, they watch them all rise up into the sky like an ascending star fall. Around them, people are laughing and cheering; some are singing:

"It's the season of grace coming out of the void,

A new beginning rising with the sunrise."

But she and Jiraiya stay quiet. They're not even looking at the lanterns anymore: their eyes are pointed solely at each other. Tsunade slips her hand into his and they hold on tightly to each other while stars rise around them.

Tsunade and Jiraiya slowly make their way back to their apartment, never letting go of each other, not saying much either. Jiraiya keeps humming the New Year's song. The words echo quietly over the empty streets.

When they get home, Tsunade finds some time alone and puts on her newly bought lingerie. It's very pink and very lacy. She releases her hair from the hair tie, lets the soft locks tumble down her shoulders. Gold and pink. Very flattering; she can't help being pleased. She's sure Jiraiya will be too. But that fun is for later—so she puts on her clothes, ties her hair up and joins Jiraiya by the table in their small living room.

"What do you wanna do while we wait for the sunrise?" he asks as she sits down opposite him. "We could just laze around on the sofa. Or, perhaps, engage in some stimulating adult activities…?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"If we do that, we'll fall asleep after and miss the sunrise." It's happened before—last year and the year before that.

"Well, I know it's tradition to watch it, but it's not that great of a loss, is it?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Our first sunrise married."

"Ah." He nods solemnly. "We cannot miss that."

They play cards instead.

Jiraiya gets a deck and Tsunade gets out glasses and a bottle of sake (the New Year's sake—Tsunade's absolute favorite New Year's tradition, sunrise and lanterns be damned).

"No cheating," she tells him, "or I'll rip your dick off."

"All in the game, princess." He grins and starts shuffling the deck with great care. "So, the winner gets the first shot of sake, and the loser gets to watch the winner drink the sake. Deal?"

"Deal." Tsunade grins too. "I already feel sorry for you."

"Really? I didn't know you were so keen on watching me drink sake."

"Let's just see how it plays out, shall we?"

She doesn't win, of course.

Jiraiya knocks back the drink and teases her relentlessly, while she huffs and puffs and goes through the list with her usual excuses. He cheated, she's always so unlucky, she's tired, the system is rigged, she had the sun in her eyes…

Jiraiya just grins. "I'd have asked for double or nothing, but I don't want to get that drunk."

Tsunade stares daggers at him. "Don't make me come over there…"

"And do what? Flail at me with your little fists? Go ahead, tiny."

He's literally begging for it. But she knows what they'll end up doing if they start fighting like that (she'll wrestle him down on the ground and he'll grin that infuriating grin the entire time and then the clothes will come off…), knows they won't be able to stop themselves.

But she has already decided: no sex now. Not yet. So she just grumbles a little and tells Jiraiya to deal the damn cards. Takes some enjoyment, at least, in the disappointed look on his face.

They make more bets as they play; they always do. That's what makes it fun—to have something on the line, something to fight for, something to win or lose. They bet on who gets to have the next drink, which ramen-ya to go to the next time they eat out, household chores, if they should go back and buy those stupid toad placemats…

Tsunade loses most of the time, of course.

"Read them and weep, sugar!" Jiraiya hollers triumphantly. He throws his cards down and four aces line up on the table before Tsunade. "Those stupid toad placemats will grace our humble apartment!"

Tsunade groans. She really thought she had it this time. But when she finally manages to get a full house, he of course trumps her with four of a kind. Lucky bastard.

Eventually, when they've run out of things to bet on and Tsunade has finally had enough of losing, they sit on the futon couch. Closely cuddled together under a blanket, they listen to a music piece on the radio.

"It's the season of bowing our heads in the wind," a woman sings quietly. "And knowing we are not alone, not alone in the dark…"

They sit there a long while, sharing a comfortable silence. Outside the windows, little snowflakes glisten in the light of the moon. The lanterns have long since faded into the dark night sky.

Jiraiya yawns and leans down to lie with his head in Tsunade's lap. "Today," he says, his voice a sleepy murmur, "has been the strangest day."

Tsunade runs a hand through his hair, her fingers playing with the ends of his bangs. "It has? I don't think it's been very strange."

"Exactly. We've been married for almost a year and it doesn't feel strange at all."

"You know"—she smiles—"I thought something similar this morning."

"Two peas in a pod, you and me. Well, more like one big pea and one tiny pea, or one respectably-sized pea and a pea that's had a stunted growth—" His laughter is muffled as she covers his mouth with her hand, telling him to shut it, idiot.

"I hope you had a good day," he murmurs when she lets him speak again, looking up at her with tired but soft eyes. "That the surprises made you happy. It's our first New Year's married… I wanted it to be special."

"It was," she tells him. "It is." She leans down, kisses the top of his head, buries her nose in his soft, unruly hair. When she looks up again, his eyes are closed, his breathing slower. He looks so at peace, so perfectly content, Tsunade doesn't want to disturb him. But she has to.

"Jiraiya," she says, tugging gently on his bangs. "Don't fall asleep, you'll miss the sunrise. And my surprise."

"Hm?" He opens his eyes a little. "Your surprise?" There is a pause, like he waits for her to reveal what it is, but Tsunade just smiles. "Am I supposed to guess, or…?"

"I'm trying to build the anticipation. It's half the fun—or so I've been told."

"That's my girl," he murmurs, his eyelids almost drifting shut again.

"Oi! Your gift, idiot." Her teasing definitely works better when he's fully awake. "I'm wearing it."

That seems to do it. "Oh," he says. Then, "Oh." He shoots up, tiredness seemingly forgotten, and almost ends up falling off the sofa in the process.

She laughs and takes his hand, pulling him with her to the bedroom.

Tsunade closes the bedroom door with a soft click.

She leans up against the door, just watching Jiraiya for a moment. He's sat himself on the bed, leaning back on his hands, quietly returning her gaze. His fingers play over the sheets, his eyes glittering in the dim light from the street lights outside.

There's that flutter in her insides again—that warmth, that anticipation.

"I met that little old lady shopkeeper when I was out buying your surprise," she tells him, striking up conversation so she won't just jump him immediately.

He nods. "She was nice, wasn't she? Very accommodating."

"She called me comely…"

"Comely? Oh… That almost sounds dirty. Maybe I should start calling you that? My comely little princess."

"You are not calling me that." She laughs. "You must be the only one in the world shameless enough to not be embarrassed by that."

"By what?"

"By being sold racy underwear by a sweet little grandma!"

Jiraiya grins, like he can't think of a better compliment. That idiot.

"She told me that I should definitely put on some pink lipstick, that it would go great with the surprise…" Tsunade continues, thinking back on the conversation she'd had with the little old lady. She had been very accommodating, coming up with suggestions on various ways to spruce up the intimacy. Tsunade had practically been burning up with embarrassment by then. "I just can't be bothered with the lipstick, though…"

Jiraiya's eyes light up a little, his perpetual, stupid grin growing wider. "I can be bothered! Let me put it on you."

He sounds so enthusiastic, Tsunade can't help but laugh. "All right, all right."

She sits at her vanity while he carefully selects one of her pink lipsticks, then he crouches in front of her, an almost comically concentrated look on his face.

"Well," he says when he's done applying it, "uh, it may not be your usual style…"

Looking in the mirror, Tsunade is quiet for a moment, then she bursts into chortling laughter. She looks like a clown.

"It's deceptively hard!" he complains.

Drying the tears from her eyes, she takes the lipstick from him and pushes him down to sit on the chair. "Let me show you how it's done."

He closes his eyes as she works on his lips, has a hard time keeping from smiling. Tsunade has to tell him to stop giggling like a little girl several times, don't you want to be pretty?

Of course, he says, then giggles some more.

In the end, it comes out looking pretty good.

Seeing his reflection in the mirror, Jiraiya grins widely. "Hey, I look good! I mean I always look good, but now I'm—"

"Pretty as a princess?"

He laughs. "Not quite." Then his smile turns mischievous. "Let's mess it up."

He pulls Tsunade to him and she ends up standing between his legs. Like this, with him sitting on her tall vanity chair and her standing, they're pretty much the same height.

Jiraiya seems very much set on messing up her handiwork. She feels his lips play against her mouth and neck, squeals as he nips at her collarbone. She returns in kind—kisses his lips, his jaws, his cheek, his neck, until there's traces of pink lipstick almost everywhere.

Finally, after much laughter and playful fighting over who can get the other to look the worst, Tsunade decides that they are way overdue a move to the bed.

She pulls Jiraiya up from the chair. "Come on! Don't you want to see your surprise?" But, to Tsunade's own surprise, Jiraiya doesn't follow her. He comes to a standstill, just between the vanity and the bed.

"Yeah…" He hesitates a little. "Maybe just wait a moment…"

She looks up at him, eyebrow raised. "Something wrong?"

"No, just… just let me look at you for a bit."

Why? Tsunade wants to ask him. She must look awful—lipstick smeared all over her face and neck, messy hair, and wearing one of his big, ratty shirts again.

But Jiraiya doesn't seem to notice that. Or maybe he does. Maybe that's the entire point. He looks at her with such a softness in his eyes, an almost painful affection, like he can't possibly imagine her any other way. Like he doesn't want her any other way.

He pulls her into his arms and just holds her for a little bit. She leans her head against his chest, hears his heart, loud and steady, there just beneath his skin. It's yours, he said.

Gods, how can she not love him?

She stands on tiptoe, gives him a peck on the chin. "Come on, idiot," she says, voice full of laughter and heart full of love. "Take off my clothes."

Jiraiya needs no more encouragement. He undresses her slowly, with great concentration and care, as if he's opening a long-awaited birthday gift.

"Fucking hell," he mumbles when he sees the deep pink of the lace underwear contrasted against her pale skin. He kisses every part of her body. Her neck, her stomach, along the edge of the bra, the insides of her thighs… Oh, she really enjoys that.

Tsunade helps him get rid of his clothes too, sheds all the layers until there's nothing in between them. Nothing but skin against skin. She greedily runs her hands over the hard muscles of his chest, follows the large swells of his biceps, feels them against her lips and her tongue.

Fuck, she wants him so much. She's dying to have him inside of her—all of him.

It's not until Jiraiya reaches for the condoms on the nightstand that Tsunade really understands what that means. It's not a great realization, more like a continuation of what started this afternoon. A pair of tiny socks, that little boy she was carrying in her arms… Somehow, that's enough. Enough to make her turn on a dime, enough to make her change her mind about having a baby—enough to be senseless.

So before Jiraiya has a chance to grab one of the condoms, Tsunade just throws it out there. "Maybe we should skip those?"

His hand stops. Retracts. "Maybe we should," he says. There's no hesitation, no bewilderment in his voice. He wants this too.

She wonders when he changed his mind, why he hasn't told her—they usually tell each other things like this. "When did you change your mind?" she asks.

"I don't know… I don't think I realized I did until now. When did you change your mind?"

"I don't know either. Well, I saw you looking at those tiny socks at the market, and then there was that little bean…" Tsunade shakes her head and laughs because this is truly ridiculous.

"Those were pretty cute," Jiraiya murmurs. "Both the socks and the bean." He takes her hand in his, folds their fingers together, brushes his thumb gently over her knuckles. "It's strange, isn't it? How it just suddenly makes sense to be senseless like this." He shakes his head, looking at her with uncertainty in his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"No, not at all. But I still want it."

"Me too."

For a moment, they just lie there in silence. Tsunade thinks of crossroads. Paths that are one-way once you thread them, that should be considered carefully before being taken. Would she even be a good parent? It's not like she's had very good role models. But then Jiraiya grins at her, and Tsunade knows, with all of her heart, that it will be all right. That they will figure it out, together.

When they touch each other again, there's a different feel to it than before. Another sort of anticipation. It's more like it was in the beginning—less laughing and teasing, now something a little more serious. Something new and untried.

Jiraiya's fingers dig into her hips as he thrusts into her with fervor, and Tsunade meets him with equal enthusiasm, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck.

She can't keep her voice down: doesn't want to, really, doesn't mind Jiraiya knowing just how much she enjoys this. He seems to be of equal mind, her name mixed with half-garbled curses pouring out of his mouth.

He doesn't last as long as usual, and neither does she.

But that doesn't matter. They keep at it all through the night until the morning comes and the sky starts to turn, the sun peeking over the horizon. Then they settle, lie wrapped up in each other and watch the sun rise through the bedroom window. The first sunrise of the new year. In a way, their first sunrise.

"Hey," Jiraiya murmurs.

She turns from the window to see him looking at her, the morning light glittering in his dark eyes. Leaning down, he tilts his head towards hers, brushing their noses lightly together.

Tsunade's heart flutters happily.

"Happy New Year, princess," he whispers to her.

"Happy New Year, idiot."

They kiss slowly, softly. Pressed together like this, Jiraiya's body is so large against hers. So warm, so safe. Tsunade holds on to him tightly, never wanting to let go. She's exhausted, on the verge of dozing off into a very, very contented sleep. Yet there is so much she wants to say, so many thoughts crowding her mind.

She thinks of the year that has gone by. Of all the strife and love, all the times she and Jiraiya have laughed and cried together, the happy moments they've shared, the fights they've fought.

She thinks of Nawaki and her parents, of that thing her mother told her so long ago.

(Love is banal; it's fleeting.)

She thinks of the year to come, all the good and bad things that lie ahead. Things that will blend together and make something complete. Something familiar and something new.

Tsunade is happy she will share it all with Jiraiya.

She draws closer, intent on saying it this time. That thing she's never told him. Those three words. In a way, she thinks, they are very corny. Very banal. In a way, they're not enough.

She steels herself. "Jiraiya, I…" She stops, swallows. Starts over. "I…"

She quiets as Jiraiya stirs, his happy but tired eyes meeting hers. His hand comes to rest on her chest, at the place just over her heart. She lays her hand on his, keeps it there, pressed to her heart.

They end up just lying there in each other's arms, neither of them saying a thing.

It's okay, Tsunade finally understands.

They don't need to.