Chapter 6: i'm right where you left meChapter Text
Raijin is perfectly aware that his godfather, if not most of Konoha itself, is on the lookout for him. He isn't sure what he did to catch Jiraiya's attention in the first place or why his village would give a fuck about him while he's just some random shinobi, but those are all secondary details. What's important is that he knows Jiraiya is on his tail more often than not.
And, eventually, the plan is to let the old man catch up too. Just...not yet. Not while Raijin still has one major tragedy he needs to prevent.
Nevertheless, since he's intending to let Jiraiya catch him at some point, Raijin has already begun to mentally prepare himself for when he finally sees his godfather for the first time since his death when Raijin had been sixteen. He may have had the time to grieve properly and move on, but that was also before he unravelled the threads of time and suddenly got the chance to see Jiraiya again.
It won't be the same; he knows this. The man he meets will be Jiraiya, but he won't be Raijin's Jiraiya. He won't be the godfather or mentor Raijin had travelled beside and learned from for three years. He will be younger, without any memory of what ties the two of them together. This Jiraiya is a different man.
And Raijin would see to it that this Jiraiya would never have to lose his students and live with the regrets that chased at his own godfather's heels no matter how far he ran away.
Anyway, all this to say, Raijin has been steadying his heart and preparing his mind for an encounter with Jiraiya since the first toad he laid his eyes on in this time period. He doesn't know if he's ready yet, but by Sage, he sure as hell will be .
What he isn't prepared for is running into Tsunade.
As soon as the Sannin walks into the izakaya, Raijin's head swivels towards her, Tsunade's achingly familiar chakra signature immediately hitting him with all the force of a punch to the gut. It's all he can do to not choke on the yakitori he has just stuffed into his mouth. At least this way he can pretend that the tears in his eyes are only because he's currently in the middle of trying to cough up his entire lung.
The old man sitting beside him, who'd been in the middle of telling Raijin about what he'd heard of Ame's current situation from his niece who lives there, looks from the boy to the woman who'd just entered the establishment. Instantly, the man's face takes on a sly leer and he waggles his eyebrows at Raijin suggestively.
"You have good taste, Raijin-kun," Aoba compliments before promptly starting to cackle loud enough that Raijin pretty much loses his ability to hear in one ear.
Raijin makes a face. "That isn't it," he protests. Aoba doesn't look convinced in the least and he's pretty sure his face going red isn't helping. "It isn't ," he insists. "She just looks like someone I knew."
Aoba snorts, hiding behind his sake cup when Raijin glares at him. "If you say so, boy," he placates mockingly. "Ain't no shame in it, you know. A young man approaching his prime like you; it's only natural, after all. Why don't you try talking to her, hm? Maybe she'll even let you get lucky tonight." Leaning closer, he mock-whispers, "You could spend hours staring at her lovely…eyes."
The look on his face makes it very clear that Tsunade's eyes are very much not the subjects of the conversation here.
Lips curling into a grimace, Raijin shoots a judgmental look at the older man. "You're kind of gross, huh, jii-chan?" he comments, shrugging when Aoba sputters at the nonchalant disrespect. "I'm not going to bother some poor lady who's only here because this town doesn't have any other places to eat open at this time of night. She probably just wants to eat in peace. Besides, I don't want to hit on her. At all. Like, it's actually giving me hives just thinking about it."
"You calling me ugly, shitstain?"
Raijin stiffens. Part of him doesn't want to turn around. He closes his eyes against the feeling of Tsunade's chakra when she's standing right behind him. The sunny-forest-stream-dew is so familiar even if he has never felt quite this much pain in it before. It couldn't have been that long since she left the village then.
He can feel several pairs of eyes on him now; Tsunade, Aoba, Shizune, and several other patrons are now looking at him expectantly. Slowly, Raijin turns around.
Tsunade doesn't look any different at all, perpetually frozen in time thanks to her jutsu. It's a bittersweet thing to have her look like she popped right out of his memories when there isn't a lick of the fondness in her eyes that she has always reserved for him.
"No offence, lady," he says, swallowing the lump in his throat and donning the troublemaker persona that he can still pull on like a second skin. "You just look an awful lot like this granny I used to know."
The vein in Tsunade's forehead that Raijin had affectionately dubbed 'Twitchy' at the ripe age of thirteen throbs in its full glory. She narrows her eyes into a glare that would make any man cower. Raijin personally has developed immunity through exposure and sheer lack of self preservation.
Voice dangerously low, she repeats, "Granny?"
All of this feels so much like a dream. Raijin ignores the dissonance of it all and grins impishly. "Yeah! She was always throwing stuff around and calling me a brat, but she was a total softie. Did have a gambling problem though."
From where she'd been lingering at Tsunade's side, a thirteen-year-old Shizune blinks. She glances from Tsunade to the blond smirking fearlessly up at her master and wonders if they're going to have to book it from another town because Tsunade delivered a man to death's doorsteps. Again.
Tsunade's eyes are narrowed now. "You–" she starts to say before stopping abruptly. She wants to ask if the brat knows who she is and if this granny is some made up character he's using to try and bullshit her but he sounds strangely genuine. There's the affectionate sort of grief in how strained his stupid smile is at the edges that Tsunade recognises all too well. Granny might have existed but she certainly doesn't anymore.
Huffing to herself, she drops into the empty seat on the brat's other side, Shizune dutifully taking the seat next to hers.
"Your name?" Tsunade demands, turning to the boy. Something about the way he looks is itching at her brain with familiarity but she can't quite place him just yet.
"Raijin," he answers.
She hums, glancing at him with furrowed brows for a moment before flagging down a server and asking for sake and tuna hosomaki. "You're a shinobi," she notes. He has the telltale callouses on his hands from wielding kunai at least. "Where are you from?"
Beside Raijin, Aoba stiffens and looks at her with wide eyes. In the midst of a war, asking such questions to a shinobi is a dangerous thing to do. Especially when they aren't wearing a headband, meaning they are either unaffiliated, potentially undercover, in enemy territory, or maybe a deserter.
Raijin sighs and shakes his head in amusement. Tsunade is lucky she can choose to be this ignorant or insolent by virtue of her strength.
"I grew up in Fire," he admits, eyeing her, "but I've been told my father may have been from Lightning originally."
"You don't know?"
"I grew up in an orphanage."
"Ah." Tsunade nods. Probably a war orphan. Far from a shortage of those these days. And with how the shinobi world is, this is unlikely to change. Shinobi breed violence in the name of peace after all.
A war orphan in Fire with Lightning blood, though? Tsunade's eyes narrow. That's quite the familiar story. The itch in her brain turns into a dawning realisation. That's who the brat's looks reminded her of: Minato! She looks at him with renewed interest, trying to keep the surprise from showing on her face.
Now that she's looking for it, it's all she can see. The shock of thick golden hair, the disarmingly blue eyes, the high and narrow nose bridge. Minato's features are narrower, his cheekbones and jaw sharper where this boy's are soft, but given a few years, she can see Raijin losing some of that softness with the lingering baby fat and then…well, the similarities already speak for themselves.
She frowns, slowly reaching out with chakra to extend her senses. She isn't the best at sensing but it should be enough since Raijin isn't exactly trying to snuffle his presence. As soon as she reaches for it, his afternoon-seasalt-storm-starburst reaches back, almost as though it is trying to curl into her chakra.
Tsunade startles and looks at him wide-eyed. Raijin raises an eyebrow and blinks at her in confusion. It is likely the edges of his chakra reacted without him even realising given his apparent bewilderment, but it still puts her off kilter. Chakra embraces are usually saved for relationships of safety and comfort—family, close friends, lovers.
It isn't unheard of for shinobi with a lot of chakra to not have the strongest awareness of what their chakra output is doing at its furthest edges, especially for shinobi who are naturally suited for ninjutsu and tend to have more excitable or volatile signatures. Nonetheless, perhaps she really must remind Raijin of a loved one if his chakra is reacting with such familiarity to hers.
She shakes it off, rolling her shoulders once. Well, whatever. At least she's pretty sure that the brat is a wind-natured primary despite apparently having Lightning blood. Another thing he shares with Minato.
"You remind me of someone too," she says nonchalantly, pouring herself a cup of sake. At her side, Shizune eyes the bottle with distaste. Tsunade ignores her.
Raijin tilts her head. Something about the action is oddly uncanny. "Oh?"
She hums. "An old friend's apprentice. Pretty sure he's originally from Lightning too. An orphan who came to Konohagakure."
Smiling wryly, Raijin shrugs. "It's not like we're a rarity given how things work around here," he points out. "Every other kid at any orphanage has the same story."
And Tsunade can't argue with that. It's all part of the reason she can't stand being a ninja anymore after all.
"Raijin-san," Shizune pipes up, leaning out so she can address the blond, "what do you do if you're not a village-affiliated shinobi?"
Another risky question. Tsunade chances a glance at Raijin but he seems unbothered.
"Hey, isn't it unfair you know my name when I don't know yours?" he asks, his grin taking on an edge of teasing that Shizune returns with a bright smile of her own.
"I'm Shizune," she introduces herself with a nod before gesturing to Tsunade, "and this is my master." She doesn't offer a name. Raijin doesn't ask for one again.
"Well, Shizune-chan, most independent shinobi earn money from bounties for the most part. They could offer their services to take up guard jobs, escort services, assassinations and stuff too," Raijin explains. "I just do the bounty thing when I need quick cash."
Shizune tilts her head. "Why not take up something more regular? Isn't it better for a stable income?"
Raijin shrugs. "Sure," he agrees, "but I like being able to travel whenever I feel like it."
"Oh?" Tsuande raises an eyebrow. "Not the type to settle down?" she asks.
Humming, he chews on his food thoughtfully. "I wouldn't say that. I just have a few things I need to do first."
"What kind of things?"
"I promised I'd look out for a few people for a bit."
Shizune steals some of Tsunade's sushi and pops it in her mouth. "And after that? Will you go home?"
Raijin gets quiet at that. Tsunade watches, waiting for his answer. Finally, he says, "I don't really have a home right now, I guess. Maybe I'll go looking for one after."
He says it with a smile but there's something painfully brittle about it in a way that tells her that he isn't supposed to be carrying this kind of an ache. This is a face meant to laugh loud and bright, and flash mischievous smiles at strangers that will equal parts endear and annoy.
Tsunade hasn't had contact with anyone from the village since she left six months ago, and she can't say she's keen to change that status quo. She doesn't want anything to do with anyone except for Shizune at the moment. But she looks at the sadness this boy is trying to hide away, hears him say he has nowhere to call home, and she sighs to herself.
It can't hurt to send a slug to Jiraiya and tell him to look into a boy who looks suspiciously like Minato. If the bastard tries to hunt her down, she'll just have to set him straight.
Just this once, she'll make an exception.