aic 37 wip

Ch 37

Gradually, he realized that something wasn't right. It was about the time that Tsunade sobered up enough to push him away. Jiraiya frowned, feeling unease in his stomach. He leaned over to check the sun to gauge the time. First half of the afternoon, still.  

He didn't actually know what time it had been when Aiko had left him- and now he felt guilty about that, shit- but it had probably been at least two hours. Had something gone wrong in Kirigakure? Why wouldn't she have come back by now?

Shizune was watching him now. Her eyes were rimmed with red, but she was remarkably composed.

'Of course she is', he thought. And it hurt. 'She's seen this before. The only reason it's worse is that it was public this time.'

Tsunade silently put down her water. She couldn't meet either of them in the eye.

Jiraiya felt so hopelessly, blackly lost. He didn't know how to help her. He didn't know if anyone could. She was going to kill herself in her grief, and drag Shizune down with her.

He sighed and forced himself to stand up. Triage. He needed to help Minato's kid. Aiko was clearly in way over her head, and she had asked for his help. She was far too thin and stressed.  

For such a powerful shinobi, Aiko seemed remarkably brittle. Breakable. Worn down, years ahead of her time. She wasn't even 30 yet. When he was her age, his team had been on top of the world, drunk on their own success, full of bright predictions for their futures. And Aiko made a lot of jokes about wishing that she was dead, so she probably should not be left unsupervised.

He could never forgive himself if his wayward teammate ended up killing his student's daughter.

“Wait.” Tsunade's voice came out hoarse. Her hand curled into a fist on the sheet. “Do you think that Uzumaki was telling the truth?”

It took a moment to remember- ah, yes. Aiko had apparently known a lot of shady shit in Konoha's underbelly.

“Yes,” Jiraiya admitted. And that, too, was a bitter pill. Damn him, but he absolutely believed that the Sandaime had failed to keep Danzo in check, and even leaned on his brutality. It fit. “I trust her on that, absolutely. She would know, and she wouldn't lie.”

“Why?” Shizune cut in. She cocked her head. “Why would you trust her?”

Ah, hell. Jiraiya rubbed at the back of his neck to save time. It wasn't really his secret to tell, but. He didn't think that Aiko would care. And these two were basically out of contact with the world. It wasn't going to get around to anyone else. “Did you think that maybe she looks kind of familiar?” he hedged.

Tsunade looked up at that. Her eyes were sharp- and that was a goddamn relief to see. She had noticed, then. How could she not? Anyone who knew Kushina and Minato should have a niggling feeling of familiarity.

He waited hopefully, but she wasn't willing to speak.

After a moment, Shizune shook her head. “I didn't notice anything,” she said cautiously.

Well. “You wouldn't,” Jiraiya sighed. “Too young, probably. You weren't around the right circles.”  

“You can't be serious.” Tsunade actually sat up. “She's far too old. She's twenty, at least. That would have been-” she paused, clearly doing some math. “When they were 20?”  

“If we were following a straight line of chronology,” Jiraiya said. He was begrudgingly impressed that this was a thing that had to be said. Aiko really was a chip off the old block, distilled down to an intensity even her lunatic parents had never managed.  

The two women in the room were silent and unimpressed. He realized that he was going to have to be more explicit.

“Look, uh.” He wished he had a beer- shit, that was an inappropriate thought. “Hiraishin is a space-time manipulation, and it turns out that multidimension theory is right. Minato corroborated her story- he's not the Minato that we knew,” he said. He still couldn't quite believe it. “The divergent point was that Kushina and Minato had one more kid. Who proceeded to screw around a lot with Hiraishin. I think it might have been stress relief.” His tone was dry. “She says that she lost rock-paper-scissors and had to become the Hokage.”

“And you believe that?” Shizune asked dubiously.

Tsunade was still staring, silent and contemplative.

He nodded. “I do,” Jiraiya admitted. “She's undeniably a master of hiraishin, she knows things about Konoha's workings that no outsider could, and she has been able to predict what's going to happen because she already knows all the major players and their motivation.”

“And that's why she came out of nowhere and took over a country,” Tsunade said. She seemed to be at least considering the possibility. Her brow furrowed. “Why Kirigakure?”

Jiraiya grimaced and shrugged. “My guess is an over-developed sense of responsibility, matched with depression about being alone?” he ventured. “She doesn't seem willing to consider me like her version of Jiraiya, except when she became emotionally compromised. And she had to have been attached, I was clearly a significant factor in her education.”

“Damnit,” Tsunade said, under her breath. She ran her hands through her hair. “Damnit!” Her eyes were welling up. “This can't be right. I don't want any of this to be true.”

“I think it is,” Jiraiya said. And Aiko was late, why was she so late?  

“Why did you come?” Shizune cut in. She fidgeted. “You two wanted an appointment with Tsunade, right?”

Tsunade furrowed her brow, clearly trying to remember what exactly had been said. “You said that you needed me.” There was a hint of shame in her voice. “What were you talking about? Is it about whatever Uzumaki is sick with?”

She's sick?

Jiraiya shook that off. “No, it's...”

Ah.

“Orochimaru,” he said slowly. “The Death God told Aiko that she had to kill Orochimaru, by tomorrow.”

She had come to him for help, because she thought that he was a more stable adult. She had been looking for a crutch. And she'd watched as her Godaime Hokage wretched and whined, pathetic and drunk. He hadn't made a particularly strong, reassuring showing either. How would someone under that much stress react as her teacher fell apart?

She wasn't going to come back for his help.

“I think that she's probably doing that right now.” He felt numb. That was what either of her parents would have done, after all. And she was backed into a corner. She'd been hesitant about every name they'd thought of as possible assistance.  

Aiko was probably dead.

If he left right now, at top speed, he could be to Rice Country in a day. And at that point he'd have to find the secret base where Aiko said Orochimaru would be holed up. And the confrontation was probably already over.

It was far too late for him to do anything about it.

“Ah.” Shizune swallowed. She looked a little frightened for the other girl- and Jiraiya appreciated that, it was good that someone else would care about Aiko. Even if it was just in the abstract. “Then… it's too late to help her.”

“Too late for her,” Tsunade agreed foggily. She looked a little sick. “But...” She wavered. “If she was telling the truth… About my grandfather, and what Danzo has been doing….”  

Jiraiya was holding his breath.  

Tsunade looked up. “I need to go back,” she said. She sounded like she was in shock. “I can't leave this. I need… I need to talk to the Sandaime.”

“Oh. Right.” Jiraiya cleared his throat. “I was supposed to try to get you to come back for another reason, by the way. Little Kakashi is in the hospital and they can't do anything for him.” His tone soured. “Uchiha Itachi put him there.”

“Hatake? May as well add him to the list,” Tsunade said. She rubbed at her cheek. Then she frowned. “Isn't Uchiha dead?”

“And still a pain in the ass,” Jiriaya said, bitter.

Tsunade snorted. “That sounds about right.”

He eyed her. He considered it. “Aiko tells me that in her timeline you took the little Uchiha as your apprentice and that it's a good fit.”