The Huntress

That Night

**Shortly after Kakashi and Katsume's rooftop discussion. Jiraiya finally has his conversation with Tsunade.

I recommend listening to 'Talk 2 Me' by Montell Fish. On repeat. If you want to cry like me, that is...**

The full moon cast a solemn glow across Kohona. Its melancholic rays pick and choose where to share their blissful light while leaving the rest in the dark. At least, that is what Jiraiya thought. He sits on the roof of the Hokage Mansion, preparing himself. Their too much now, these emotions of his. He is unable to force them into submission any longer. They fight and claw their way up, bending him to their will. He has to free them. Too much time has passed being silent. Avoiding. Running.

He hops off, letting the wind rush past before landing on a familiar window's ledge. He knows it's late. However, according to Shizune, Tsunade should be working late tonight to catch up on her paperwork.

The window is open as it always is. However, the scene is not what he had been expecting to see when he stepped through the window. Instead of seeing Tsunade quietly working at her desk like he's seen so many times before, her room was trashed–bottles of sake and other assortments of liquor on every surface, paper strewn all over the floor, a knocked-over lamp was flickering, its fading luminescence doing little to shed light on the situation. He heard a groan and enters the room steadily.

Tsunade, a somberly pitiful sight, lies sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by empty glasses. Jiraiya glares down at her for a moment but feels the tension relax and softens. He moves to crouch beside her, nudging her slightly to rouse her from her deep sleep. She groans again, shifting and mumbling in defiance. She pushes him away.

"Come on," he says lowly, demanding.

She lazily pushes him away again, groggily mumbling an incoherent sentence, but he understood she was asking along the lines of what he was doing there. He ignores her, wrapping his arms around her back and under her knees. She looked horrible – her skin was flushed but exceedingly pale. Her once shining golden locks were now dull and lack the vibrant life they held before. He carries her to the bathroom of her apartment. She fights him. Absent-mindedly pushing off his chest, weakly trying to free herself of his firm grip. He had half a mind to let go and let her fall to the floor as she wants, but scolds himself for the thought. Her arms lazily flail as she grunts with the extra effort it took to defy him. Having enough of it, he gives her a gentle squeeze, getting her attention after the lag in her coherence catches up with her.

"Tsunade...look at me. Let me help you...please."

Her wobbling gaze meets his sternly dark ones, hardly comprehending the trace of the pleading within them. She lets her body relax, submitting to his will. She doesn't fight him as he sets her down on the bathroom stool or as he begins to help her undress. He stands before her, tugging her shirt over her head. But she's seeing past him. Moments of that night clouded her already blurring vision. Lost in the past. Absent in the present. And the hope for the future she's fixed for herself was fading with the cognizant world around her.

He removes her stained and tattered clothes respectfully, discarding them on the floor for the time being. He'd get to washing them later. He stands her up briefly to remove her pants and undergarment, tossing them aside with the rest. He sits her down on the stool again, watching and making sure she's stable enough for him to walk away momentarily. He turns away, walking over to the tub and twisting the faucet to fill the bath with warm water, running his hand under to confirm the temperature is adequate. As the tub fills, he glances at her zoned-out figure, which, even in her dissociation, had placed an arm across her chest. He makes his way behind her, working on the ties in her hair. As he delicately untangles one of the ties restraining her blonde pigtails, he hears her say something barely above a whisper. He pauses and lets out an exasperated sigh.