Her chopsticks intercepted his. Hazel eyes narrowed at the sheepish look Jiraiya sent her way, and then he howled in pain as her chopsticks whacked him across the knuckles. With a vicious smirk, Tsunade swiped the last sushi off the plate and popped it into her mouth, chewing leisurely as the male sent her a sullen look, still rubbing his hand. "Cruel move, princess." She offered him the most innocent smile in return, which had the giant pulling the petite blonde against himself, ignoring her indignant squawks. It was ridiculous how he still manhandled her like she was some... kitten. "Let go of me, you oaf!" And yet, despite her struggles and whining, she leaned against him, sighing softly. He was comfort, pure and simple. A second later, she was pinching the hand that was sneaking its way above her thigh. "Jiraiya!" His laughter was loud enough to vibrate through her entire frame and draw a few curious looks their way. She flushed but was too used to this routine by now.

"You never did give me an answer, Tsunade. Never thought you'd turn down a dare!" His voice was both soothing and teasing. Tsunade tensed slightly—she had really hoped he'd have forgotten that by now. "Have you not heard the rumors about him?" She felt a touch of guilt for letting others paint the picture for her though—half those rumors were too ridiculous to even be believable. Her words had Jiraiya snorting. "There are also rumors about how perfect Dr. Senju is. Should I start believing them, then?" The glare she threw his way was withering.

The man smirked, and then his giant hand was rubbing her head, making her kick him under the table. If her grandmother ever saw her behaving this way in public, Tsunade would be done for. And yet Jiraiya had the ability to bring out the child in her. He swore as he jolted, almost toppling the table as the pain to his leg registered, giving Tsunade enough time to put a few inches between herself and her best friend, a smug smirk playing on her lips. Yet when Jiraiya's attention turned back to her, his expression was more serious than she had seen in a while. "Tsunade... for all of Orochimaru's quirks, I do believe he can make you happy. And you deserve happiness." The adoring way he looked at her had her heart clenching. Once more, she was made to mourn the fact that though she loved Jiraiya, she was not in love with him.

This time, she dropped her shields, allowing vulnerability to come to the surface. "Jiraiya... maybe I'm not meant to be in love. Did you ever consider that?" Once more, that arm pulled her close, and this time she went into the embrace willingly. She may have accepted that her inability to feel attracted to humankind was abnormal, but it didn't mean she didn't desire the alternative. Especially when Jiraiya had a way of making the whole experience sound so devastatingly appealing through words. The best decision in life he had made was to drop out of medical school and become a writer. For all her whining about his writing, the man truly was a rare talent.

His hands rubbed soothingly over her arms, and she sighed. "Hime... just trust me, okay? If what you say is true, you have nothing to lose, right? I'll send you his number. Take a gamble." Tsunade couldn't bring herself to respond to his words. The man had been in love with her for years and was still looking out for her, despite knowing she could never return his feelings. "I'll... think about it." She could promise him that at least. It had been a week since her lunch with Jiraiya. A week since Tsunade had saved this 'Orochimaru's' number in her contacts. A week of keeping her ears open for snippets about this creature from the depths of Tartarus.

She had looked into him, of course. For all the faults she had heard about him from the hospital staff, her research showed her how brilliant the man was. His published research in forensic medicine was higher in number than her own—which in itself was a feat. She was secretly grateful their chosen fields did not overlap, or she would have hated him on principle alone as her competitor. Tsunade could not deny she had developed a semblance of respect for this man who was but a name and a reputation for her, still. Yet, just because she was more familiar with his work did not mean she knew how to reach out to this enigma.

She sat in her office, leaning back in her chair, contemplating what to do. Jiraiya had texted an hour ago to find out if she had talked to Orochimaru yet. She did not want to say she hadn't. But what to say? An hour—that is how long she had spent trying to come up with the right words. But they failed her. She scowled at the black screen of her phone. And then a random voice floated in through the closed doors. "Sitting on his throne of death..." The words had her smirking in amusement—and then she was sitting straight, words of a poet dominating her thoughts. If she could not use her own... then this would have to do. Her fingers typed the words and hit send before she could stop herself:

"Lo! Death has reared himself a throne

In a strange city lying alone

Far down within the dim West,

Where the good and the bad

and the worst and the best

Have gone to their eternal rest."*

_

*The City in the Sea by Edgar Allan Poe

Disclaimer: The Naruto world belongs to Kishimoto and we are just dabbling in it with our creativity.