Tears

Disclaimer: I own nothing but this fictitious plot.

Author's Note: I'm trying to write again! Yes, trying. Well, I have an idea of writing a multi-chaptered story as of now but I haven't quite polished the plot yet. Also, I am uncertain on whether people still read any of the Jiraiya-Tsunade fluff ever since our gallant hero died. On the mean time though, do enjoy this if you can!

Staring out into the distance, I found myself drifting again. Lifting my bottle of sake, I felt the soft caress of the wind against my face, as I felt nothing but utter emptiness.

It has been two days since he left. I could still remember everything clearly: I watched him disappear into the distance, as the rays of orange and yellow had a frail attempt to blind my vision. In my perception, everything seemed to move in slow motion. I wanted for him to go already, to vanish from the range of which my eyes could still see. Yet, I locked my sight on his fading appearance still, and at one point I had this sudden urge to run after him, do something, say something. On what exactly would I want to do, I myself still have no idea. All I know is that a part of me began to hurt when he has decided to set out on his journey, his "destiny". All I know is that I would not and could not have stopped him – even if at the back of my mind, I know I should have – because it was what he insisted on doing. I have known Jiraiya for decades; therefore knowing that it is not a wise decision to argue with his planned adventures.

All I know is that, the moment the distance between us became great, nothing held back my tears from falling. They released themselves from the once disclosed tear ducts of my eyes. It has been so long since I have shed tears, and the last time I did so, I remember doing it during a special occasion – when I have granted Naruto my grand father's necklace. To be honest, I don't ever cry. And even if I do, then anyone could easily tell that I'm crying over a reason out of the ordinary.

But then I remembered that I was all alone on the park bench, where the glitters of gray and indigo have swallowed the sun just a few seconds of him disappearing completely. I looked down below and saw my fists, a hint of aging evident on a couple of veins that traced themselves against my skin. Then I realized something that I usually overlook: That I'm not getting any younger.

From that point forward, it felt as if my surroundings became fragile in tenfold. Konoha is a very important consideration in every decision I make the moment I took over the village; thus, when I only agreed on his conclusion that I should not come to his aid if ever something happens to him during his infiltration, I only remained silent. That silence was vague enough to say that I neither affirmed nor said otherwise, wasn't it?

But, what about my own personal decisions in life? Decisions that could only affect the spectrum of where my world turns around? Do they not matter any more? Do I have to be selfless, literally all the time? Even if it means saving my own dear friend's life?

Those bugging questions, he managed to answer with a single 'goodbye'. Jiraiya has always been selfless, and thankfully enough I think he has managed to rub off that characteristic to me at some point when he managed to convince me to be Hokage.

But then, since that afternoon he left for the Hidden Rain, I just couldn't calm down. I had trouble sleeping at night – more than the usual difficulty I encountered on a regular basis. And not only that, Shizune has been catching me off-guard every so often, reckoning that I have been so adrift lately and that my mind was incapable of doing barely any concentration.

It might be the case of not having any faith in him as a fighter, yes. But I have fought with and against Jiraiya on countless occasions for God knows how long now. I do trust his abilities, his skills, his intelligence. There is no doubt I can count on him on this self-proclaimed mission, as for one, that was the seemingly unwritten code of a Legendary Sannin: Not only to make a name for yourself, but to seek what truly makes you legendary, what makes you honoured to be named as such by your village. Although, one of us three might not have used the objective well. And to say that such an incident has created a huge impact, not only on us three, but on a chain reaction towards the ninja world, again, it has further emphasized the fact of how selfless Jiraiya could be, doing his best to be able to save Orochimaru from the wrong decisions in which we knew he has plotted ever since we were snotty little children.

Jiraiya could be stupid at times, if you look at it in another perspective. But any friend who would sacrifice his own life for the sake of many others is probably something more than selflessness.

Sighing, I looked below the veranda I was sitting on. Nostalgia didn't help me in any way, I guess my train of thought went a little too far as to wander off reminiscing.

It has been a lovely weather so far compared to yesterday and the other day. My eyes, I could feel them so heavy, demanding me of desperate sleep, as I, once again, decided otherwise. I don't feel like sleeping, I don't feel like doing anything. Frankly enough, I am grateful to Shizune for she has given enough consideration and let me take the afternoon off. I could use some time to clear my mind of things, too many damn things all at once.

The wind slightly blew past me as one of the scattered lily pads began to tremble. The pond remained calm until a frog leap up on the lily pad and stared directly into oblivion above. I only stared at it, unable to even move, unable to even comprehend. Frogs are Jiraiya's friends, and this one underneath me is probably not an exemption.

Blinking soggily a couple of times, I waited, waited for something to happen. It was as if I was expecting Jiraiya to come out of the frog's mouth and face me with his stupid grin, "I've defeated Akatsuki's leader."

But, after around half a minute or so, nothing happened. The frog, however, remained where it was, not wanting to depart for some reason. I turned away and ignored it, its almost inaudible croaks echoing around the pond.

A split second later, I couldn't feel any point of suppressing any longer.

I could feel myself crying.

It was as if there was an intoxicating substance that sunk into me after all these years. It wasn't painful, no, but only because I already felt so numb towards him. I couldn't point a finger to why depression suddenly has taken its toll on me, but to see that frog there, I got the message Jiraiya was trying to give me in a snap. No questions needed to be asked whatsoever. And it sucks, it sucks because I don't want immediate answers, I want to learn how to ask questions as well.

Yesterday afternoon, while staring outside my office, I already felt something like this was going to happen. But I didn't cry. It would only inject doubt into Shizune's mind, who, she herself tried to disperse such questioning of my faith in Jiraiya's abilities – or lack thereof. So instead I began a silent conversation with the rain. The rain that poured down on the village was enough to symbolize the tears I wanted to release, the village cried with me, the village cried for me.

I told him before he left that I wouldn't know what to do if I lost him along with the other ones who meant dearly to me. But as cool as he was, the jerk brushed it off and laughed at me, claiming at such joy he'll feel if ever I did shed tears for him. He speculated that I wouldn't cry for him as much as I cried for when Dan died. I don't have much tears to cry for Jiraiya, basically because he was the one who would always dry them off for me. But here I am, I may not be spilling out bucketful of tears, but I still am crying for the pervert.

At least now I know for sure, he's happy.