Chapter 40: The Truth Agreement

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A/n: For better reading experience listen to seven by Taylor Swift. Lyrics in bold italics. Again I love Jiraiya. Italicised parts are flashbacks.

Please picture me
In the trees
I hit my peak at seven feet
In the swing
Over the creek
I was too scared to jump in
But I, I was high in the sky
With Pennsylvania under me

        Jiraiya knew with himself that he was an alcoholic and there were times he regretted his addiction but it was his only salvation, his numbness and it never was a problem because most of the time he was a jolly drunk.

      And yet,

        The sound of breaking clay and the splashing of cold alcohol on the floor and he thought he heard her scream but Jiraiya couldn't remember if he saw her mouth open or if she simply stood there.

     The fifteen year old Nhira.

      Under the soft glow of lanterns in the dimly lit tavern, Jiraiya sat hunched over a table, a bottle of sake in hand. The air was heavy with the pungent scent of alcohol, and the low hum of conversations surrounded him. Nhira approached cautiously "Jiraiya-sensei," she called softly.

Jiraiya looked up, his eyes glazed and distant. He managed a somewhat lopsided grin. "Ah, Jiko, my favourite student." She smiled as she sat down beside him, "I don't think you're supposed to have favourites."

      'He's clearly drunk.'

     She hesitated but decided to sit down, sensing that something troubled her mentor. As they sat together, the Sannin talked to himself muttering under his breath until Jiraiya's words grew more unsteady.

       She kept silent as the way he looked at her, with contempt and a fury as a f he couldn't bear to look at her left her grappling in confusion if she'd done anything.

            He took a swig from his bottle, his gaze unfocused. Nhira furrowed her brows, concern deepening. "Sensei, what's bothering you? You can talk to me."

         "What's bothering me?" He snorted, choking out a shot of alcohol. "You. You're bothering me." And the words cut like a kunai, it's blade cutting her heart out.

       "What?"

        "It's your face," Jiraiya spat, eyes red and cheeks ruddy but there was a sneer instead of the smile she learned to be familiar with. "That face that resembles your mother."

        Because as she grew older so did her resemblance to her mother increase. At the cusp of adulthood, Jiraiya couldn't help but blink and see Ysolde instead like a ghost following him.

         "If it hadn't been for you-" But Nhira didn't know at the time that Jiraiya meant her mother, Ysolde and not her.

       "If only you didn't come to the Leaf... you took him. I loved that boy like my own and you destroyed everything."

      And his head fell to the table, eyes closed. Even years later he couldn't recall what he had said and why that morning she to od him he didn't have anything to teach her anymore and left with a smile.

      But he remembered the way she looked at him. A scolded child whose only gift was crushed infront of her eyes. Like a kicked puppy.

Are there still beautiful things?

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