Chapter 61: Volume 2, chapter 12: Ascending statuses.
I woke up the next morning covered in young girls, as was usual. Well, it was less that I woke up and more that I slipped free of my meditative state.
I hadn't been able to go back to sleep after the third nightmare about beautiful snake women with a taste for vore and excessive lubricant. I shivered in dread, and laid there for a moment, using the warmth of my bedmates to chase away those feelings.
I contemplated the horror I had witnessed and what I was going to do about it, if anything should be done about it at all. Nothing came to mind, with the exception that staying put and stewing in my misery was not one of the options.
I slipped free of the arms and limbs that held me and went into the bathroom for a shower, scrubbing myself clean of the traces of dried slime that remained from yesterday. The dry yet viscous feeling of slime as it sloughed off my body churned my stomach, but I endured it and finished my morning ablutions, hurrying out of the bathroom when I was done like I could escape all traces of that creature.
"Izuku." Naruko called to me when I stepped out of the shower, a towel around my waist. She rushed out of bed to embrace me, not caring about my half-dressed state. I held her as well, not really caring for my state of undress either.
I felt a palm on my cheek and turned to see Kuro inspecting me with concerned onyx eyes, running her thumb over my reddened skin. I may have scrubbed a bit too hard. I gave her a smile of reassurance. It seemed to settle her a bit, but not enough to prevent the next question.
"Are you sure you should be out of bed?" she asked, her tone gentle in a manner more serious than I had ever heard from her.
"I would be more than happy to stay here and spend the day with you two, but we all know that the Daimyo will probably want to see me," I said, and she pursed her lips in dissatisfaction before nodding and taking Naruko's hand as they both went to use the shower.
I watched the bathroom door they had disappeared behind for a moment and got on with the rest of my morning routine.
I pulled on my robes, mourning the loss of my kinetic energy converter seal matrix and just how much work it would take to fix it. The drip was still on point though, and the sanitary fuinjutsu still worked, so this was what I was sticking with. Now properly dressed, I settled down to get in some meditation before the girls were done with the bathroom.
With ease bought with hours upon hours of practice, all my biological processes slowed and my spirit extended to become one with nature. Though it wasn't as easy as it usually was. There was something to my spiritual energy; it felt tougher and more concentrated, yet that new strength made it harder to find my equilibrium.
It took a few moments for me to recognize it as the weight of experience, something that strengthened my spiritual energy. Though in this case, that strength came with some caveats given what experience had gifted me this strength.
That brought me to the thought that had to be contemplated. The events of last night.
The horror and betrayal of it all was disturbing, but while that stung in an intimate way, I found my mind wandering back to a particular image instead. The pile of moaning flesh that had stained the floor, that was once a person, that could have been the actual Akuro—the sheer cruelty involved in what she did to him. This world was full of cruelty and monstrosity; I had acknowledged that, and if that was all it was maybe it would be easier to accept and process, but that wasn't all that churned my thoughts. Something held me captive beyond the inhumanity of what she had done.
It was the brilliance of it.
I had only gained a very, very rudimentary understanding of the soul in my studies of the chakras and how they served as analogues of juncture boxes between the body and the soul. Lu Ten had explained to me that the meeting of body and soul was what created the mind, which in turn was what created the spirit; then the spirit could be mixed with physical energy to create chakra.
It was an incredibly complicated and metaphysically rich process, and yet in all that I did not even scratch the surface of soul manipulation, and yet Orochimaru had already figured out how to wear another human soul like a skin suit.
The genius of it was staggering.
I found myself feeling a sort of reluctant admiration along with my horror and disgust, and that was what disturbed me. How could I admire such a thing? Did my curiosity know no bounds? If I had these feelings, was I any different from that monster? In thought, if not in action?
"Izuku?" Naruko's voice drew me out of my thoughts and I looked up to see her already dressed with her transformation intact and a similarly ready Kuro at her side. Both watched me with concern, and I realized I had been actively clenching my teeth as I meditated, the muscles jumping on my jaw for both of them to see.
I relaxed my bite and took a calming breath.
"Ready?" I asked them as I got to my feet, brushing past what they had come upon. Their chakra made it clear that this was in no way over, but they let it go for now and nodded their assent.
Then with my girls in tow, we stepped out of the room to the jaw-dropping sight of Tano standing there, pale as a corpse but straight and sturdy as an oak, an older eunuch wringing his hands at the side.
"My lord, my ladies." The battered samurai aspirant greeted us when he saw us.
"Tano! What are you doing on your feet?!" I exclaimed and was at his side in an instant, running diagnostic jutsu-coated hands over his torso.
"We tried to keep him in bed, Hanama-sama, but his struggles might have hurt him," the eunuch worried from the side.
"My body has failed me before, my lord. I have never truly depended on its good health. That has not changed," Tano said, remaining stoic and expressionless throughout my examination.
"You're injured. Badly," I said to him, reading the feedback on my jutsu. His torso was sewn closed and barely scabbing. His internal organs were all bruised, every last one. He had to be in an excruciating amount of pain.
Yet he stood here, his chakra flowing through every inch of his body, reinforcing every strand of flesh. His chakra reserves were steadily dropping, but he remained upright regardless.
"My place is at your side," he said, his dark brown eyes staring me down with an unwavering will.
He really shouldn't be on his feet…
I found myself conceding anyway.
"Fine," I said with a sigh. He wasn't in the best shape but there were solutions to that.
"Thank you for your assistance. I can take it from here," I told the eunuch, who slipped away with a relieved bow.
"So what now?" Naruko asked, walking up and offering Tano a nod of acknowledgement. He gave a full-bodied bow in return, earning a giggle from her, which earned a smile from me.
That still left her question to be answered. What now?
"Now we go to the Daimyo's court," my sensei said, appearing in our midst, and for the first time in a while I flinched at that sudden arrival.
My sensei didn't react to this, or at least I couldn't sense it. Naruko and Kuro, on the other hand, were open books, and they did not miss that flinch. Their chakra shifted with concern.
I shook it off and gave each of their hands a reassuring squeeze. I was fine, just a little jumpy. It would pass.
We followed my sensei and walked back to the hall where I had first met the Daimyo. Unlike the last time we were here, the hall was full of many people. From Severed sons running up and down with scrolls in hand, weaving between men and women dressed in expensive and extravagant clothes, they were on the older side as opposed to the younger individuals I was used to. These were the adults of the noble class, the actual shakers and movers of the Land of Fire.
A reaction began to spread between all who were present as the first person noticed us and that information began to proliferate. All those adults now watched us very closely. Their chakra reflected their opinions—some contemptuous, a few admiring, there were even a few blips of empathy—but by and large the main emotion was avarice.
Fucking nobles, man.
At the end of the hall, elevated on a platform of polished wood, sat the Daimyo. Behind him, slightly lower but still commanding attention, was an extra platform holding half a dozen men and one woman.
My sensei was already seated beside the Daimyo, his presence steady and unreadable. The clone he had sent to bring us here was nowhere in sight. I recognized the one woman as Madame Shimiji, the Daimyo's wife. She was a bit older and on the plump side, but for someone who was only a little younger than her husband, she carried her age well.
We stopped before the altar and bowed to the throne.
"Hanama-san. You have my deepest apologies." The Daimyo spoke, his tone much more commanding than the calm joviality we had received when we first met him.
"She was an enemy of Konoha, Daimyo-sama, a product of their village," one of the seated men—one who was clearly a samurai based on his attire—pointed out. His tone was carefully neutral, but his chakra was filled with competitive antagonism directed at my sensei, who did not react to this subtle accusation, neither to refute nor defend.
"Be that as it may. It still happened under my roof," the Daimyo insisted.
"And Konoha, just like all of the Land of Fire, is under my husband's purview," Madame Shimiji cut in, and the Daimyo nodded in agreement with his wife. The elderly samurai fell silent, but his chakra shifted with slight disappointment.
"As recompense for this failure of security, you will be receiving the village of Tomoshibi on the outskirts of Konoha," the Daimyo said casually, like he hadn't just ennobled me with one sentence.
I reeled in shock, but it was singularly mine, a quick pass of my senses made it clear to me that I was the only one surprised by this. None of the nobles who watched on were shocked; in fact, a fair few radiated contempt and condescension.
"I am grateful, Daimyo-sama," I said with awed confusion.
Condescension about what? How I earned this reward? Something about that assumption felt off.
I decided to put that aside for now, but I had essentially just become a large landowner; the rest was just a title, but something about it felt different. Maybe it was the responsibility that the word lord implied that a simple landowner did not.
Then the Daimyo turned to the space slightly behind me and to my left.
"Tano, I believe? Step forward."
Tano spent a few seconds in shock before stepping forward to kneel before the Daimyo.
"While in the hands of an enemy, you chose an honorable death in defense of a life you have sworn to protect, and in doing so you allowed a great threat to the elemental nations to perish," the Daimyo began, waving his hand to the side, calling forward a eunuch who stepped forward with a wooden box in his hands.
The box was laid before Tano, then opened, revealing a beautifully crafted katana. Its sheath was a deep black with blue highlights, and the hilt of the blade was wrapped in tough yet soft blue cloth. Hanging from that hilt were charms that contained the kanji for fire.
Tano stared at it, his hands trembling as they came up to run across the smooth wood of the sheath.
"For this, you are awarded the honor of the title Samurai and will be welcomed as a samurai of my court," the Daimyo said and gestured toward the blade. Tano reached forward and picked it up with reverence, unsheathing it a few inches to stare at the brilliant blade within.
He stared at the blade for a moment, then he turned around to glance at me. I gave him an encouraging smile, and his response was for his face to firm up with determination. What?
"I am honored, Daimyo-sama, but if I have earned the honor to be a Samurai, my blade is owed to one person and one person only," Tano said, gasps of shock spreading across the hall in the wake of his words.
He even had the absolute audacity to look the Daimyo in the eye as he abandoned his dream and denied the Daimyo's generosity for what? Loyalty? We barely knew each other, and in the time we had known each other, hanging around me had introduced him to what it felt like to be a frog in a sixth grade biology class.
I had the urge to reach forward and smack him in the head, but I restrained myself as the Daimyo raised a hand to silence the court and lean forward in his seat, inspecting all of us. His gaze settled on me and took me in. He was joined by the dozens of nobles present. No doubt wondering how exactly I had gained such loyalty in such a short time. I wished them luck; I didn't have a clue either.
Tension built as the silence endured, only enhanced by the inscrutability of the Daimyo's chakra, the pressure of his gaze felt like a tangible thing, but as opposed to offense, a smile slowly spread across the old man's face.
"I see. Then you have my blessing, but you are now a samurai of the Land of Fire with all accompanying duties and privileges," he said, and a set of ceremonial robes were brought forward and placed on Tano's shoulders anyway.
"Thank you, Daimyo-sama," Tano said, this time falling into a full dogeza. The Daimyo received it graciously.
"Do not be so quick to thank me, Young Samurai. The path you have chosen will not be easy. For either of you," he said, looking at me. I gulped under his gaze, and for a moment I caught a glimpse of that towering pillar of eternity.
"You may leave while we deliberate on other matters. One of my Severed will present you with the writ of ownership for Tomoshibi," the Daimyo dismissed us.
We collectively got up and left the hall under the watchful gaze of the court of the Land of Fire. Tano's presence unfailingly fell into step at what was becoming his spot, to my left and one step behind me.
From slime-covered nightmares to a landowner and the lord of a Samurai, and it wasn't even noon. What were the odds things would remain calm and cosy for the rest of our stay?
….
….
Yeah, I didn't think so either.
XXXXXXXXX
Sweaty hands.
Jiraiya had not felt the sticky, damp sensation of perspiring palms in a long while. There just wasn't a lot left to make him nervous anymore; death didn't scare him, and even if it did, the number of people who had a shot at taking him out were so few that a brush with it had become vanishingly rare these days.
He thought that lack of nerves was a sign he had made it, that he had come far enough in life not to be afraid of anything.
How wrong he was.
Sitting in an out-of-the-way bar in one of the less reputable parts of Konoha, waiting for his… waiting for her to arrive, made him acutely aware that no, that lack of daily terror didn't mean the threats were gone. It just meant they were waiting, piling up, gaining strength until eventually the weight of them would keel over and spill all over your life.
He had promised himself he wouldn't let that happen, and if he had to live in terror for that, he was fine with it.
He felt the chakra signature he had been waiting for arrive at the bar. The beaded curtains of the entrance were pulled aside, revealing the top-heavy, gorgeous form of his teammate stepping inside.
It was late, the lights were low, and Tsunade was a master of stealth, so it wasn't hard for her to pass unseen and unrecognized. It slowed her approach, but it gave Jiraiya time to appreciate the beauty of her—not just of her body.
Jiraiya had bedded the most beautiful women the elemental nations could offer; it wasn't her looks that held him captive. It was who she was, how she became that person. He had been there the entire way, witnessed her transformation, as both participant and witness to the story of Tsunade Senju, and as the lover of literature that he was, he couldn't help but love that story. Love her.
"Are you just gonna stare or order me a drink?" Tsunade asked as she approached the table he sat at, her terse question breaking his reverie.
"I… uh, yeah, sure," Jiraiya stammered, coming back to the present.
With a snap of his fingers he waved a server down and ordered some libations. The drinks came in moments, bottles of Umeshu for Tsunade and a few mugs of shochu for himself.
They both sipped their drinks as their table fell into a silence only interspersed by the chatter of the bar around them.
It persisted till—like all things that annoyed her—Tsunade broke it.
"This is fucking awkward," she said into the uncomfortable silence that had settled over them after their drinks arrived.
"Right?!" Jiraiya exclaimed, unable to help himself. "We've known each other our whole lives. This shouldn't be hard," he continued, running a hand through his shaggy mane.
"And what exactly is 'this'?" Tsunade asked, air quotes included.
"A friendly dinner?" Jiraiya offered awkwardly.
"Is that what you want it to be?" she asked, not letting his humor derail her.
"We both know it's not," Jiraiya said with some seriousness, reaching across the table and gently taking her hand.
"That's not smart, Jiraiya," she said softly, but she didn't pull back.
"Why not?" he asked.
"I call you out for your shit, but that doesn't change the fact that you're my best friend, idiot. You want to flush all that down the shitter when things go south, for what? A roll in the hay?" Tsunade said, pulling back her hand now.
"They won't go south," Jiraiya said, ignoring her jab about his intentions being as simple as sleeping with her, though it stung.
"Really? You're not going to end up sticking it in some young thing? I'm not gonna say something stupid and pointless and cruel? I won't be too busy running the hospital? You won't be too busy with that fucking Hat?" The last part of her tirade came out with particular vehemence.
"So what, we just be miserable?" Jiraiya asked, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
"Who says I'm miserable?" Tsunade said, taking a sip of her drink. Jiraiya didn't even bother to call her out beyond a blank stare.
They fell into a brief silence.
"If you were just going to reject me anyway, why come?" Jiraiya asked.
"I don't know. Maybe I wanted to see if I could be convinced," Tsunade said, staring into her swirling drink.
Her reticence annoyed Jiraiya.
"How is this for convincing? Things could go wrong, but things go wrong anyway! War could break out tomorrow, I could gain some incurable disease! IchaIcha could lose its entire reader base! Does that mean I should just give up on everything?" he asked, with visible frustration born from months-no, years of fruitless pursuit.
"Things can and do go bad anyway. Why not give it a good try?" he said stubbornly.
"You know why." was her equally stubborn response.
Jiraiya gulped, unable to fight off the jealous sensation of battling a ghost.
"Dan?" he asked with trepidation, and her following burst of laughter confused him.
"No, not Dan, you fucking meathead, not completeley." she said after getting her laughter under control. "It's that fucking Hat! It killed Dan, but it also killed my grandfather, my parents, my grand-uncle, Nawaki… and you want to wear it, you want to wear it and die. Why?" she asked, almost pleading.
Jiraiya was silent as he saw the naked pain in her eyes and answered as honestly as possible.
"For Naruko, for Sensei, for the village, for you. I know how dangerous it is, but that's the point, isn't it? I take on the danger so no one else has to," Jiraiya said, reaching out to take her hand again. She didn't pull back. She could only stare at his face, her features scrunched up as a small blush crept across her cheeks.
"It's a sickness. I have a sickness," she muttered to herself, looking at the ceiling as if asking Kami for help.
"What? What is?" he asked, bewildered and worried by her reaction.
"This," she said, and she reached across the table. Jiraiya felt her fist curl into his lapels and pull him down into a searing kiss. Jiraiya was very experienced with the fires of passion, but this was something else. This was the woman he had loved all his life, the woman he would love all his life. The physicality was incredible, but the emotion behind it… the emotion felt like gravity had lost hold of him, as if he would float into the sky and become part of the cosmos.
Their kiss was interrupted by insistent chirping that they ignored, but they couldn't anymore when pecks began raining down on them.
"Fuckin'—alright, alright!" Tsunade cursed as she waved the bird away and snatched the letter strapped to its leg. Jiraiya was still too dazed to do more than remain halfway on his feet, where Tsunade had left him.
That daze was broken by the way Tsunade's face paled as she read the letter.
"What is it?" Jiraiya asked, shaking off his daze. Instead of answering, Tsunade handed him the letter with trembling hands. Jiraiya read its contents and paled as well.
His heart hammered with sadness and terror as he took in the two pieces of information contained in the letter from his sensei.
Orochimaru was dead.
That alone was world-shattering in an intimate and excruciating way he struggled to put into words, but it was the last piece of information that put the fear cherry on the sorrow sundae.
His sensei had enough.
As soon as Hiruzen Sarutobi returned, Jiraiya would become Hokage.
XXXXXXXXX
A/N: PTSD continues and Izuku grapples with the darkness of his own nature!
The girls are concerned! Izuku was there for them at the most tumultuous parts of their young lives, they fully intend to be there for his!
Tano is offered a place among the Daimyo's personal forces and refuses to continue to serve Izuku!
The seeds of love that have planted themselves between the Sanin now begin to bloom! Just in time for those seeds to be tested!
What conclusion will Izuku come to?! To accept the shadow within himself or to walk in the light?!
Tano is not going anywhere now, how far can he walk on the path of the Samurai?!
Jiraiya ascends the monument! What will be the legacy of the toad sage?!
STAY TUNED TO FIND OUT NEXT TIME, ON FOR THE LOVE OF KUNGFU!