Ever since Dan’s death, Jiraiya had been in charge of both Dan’s belongings and Tsunade’s welfare. The woman was too traumatized to go anywhere near Dan’s apartment, much less hear his name. As Jiraiya was fixing Dan’s belongings, he came across a photo of him and Tsunade. They were both dressed in civilian clothes, looking like any other couple in the village.
Jiraiya never felt anger towards the medi-nin until now. How could he? How could he leave behind Tsunade?
Jiraiya tried his best to finish the task; there shouldn’t be another catastrophe. No more.
The man felt older beyond his years, as Jiraiya sank to the dusty floor surrounded by boxes. Dan didn’t have much personal belongings; he did however own a massive heap of scrolls and texts about medical techniques. They were the ones he and Tsunade worked day and night for.
As Jiraiya sorted them out, a few boxes under Dan’s name and the rest would go to the library and research facilities, a small notebook was a sore thumb amongst the piles of paper.
For no reason whatsoever, Jiraiya flipped through the measly notebook. He read a few sentences and phrases; it seemed that this was Dan’s journal of sorts. Even though there weren’t many entries, Jiraiya wasn’t a man that went through anyone’s personal thoughts.
“This should go to Tsunade.” Jiraiya mumbled. He flipped the pages once more, feeling empty and heavy at the same time. God, will this ever end? The notebook then landed on a page. The man skimmed it over, not really processing the things he had read.
Being alone with your thoughts is a scary thing. Jiraiya was only trying to avoid a breakdown.
Just as he was about to close the notebook, he caught sight of his name on the paper. He thought nothing of it at first; he wasn’t really surprised at the mention of his name. Though, Jiraiya did a quick scan of Dan’s entry.
Jiraiya then straightened in his seat, having come to understand what the entry was about.
“Huh?” the Toad Sanin read from the beginning, muttering the words to no one in particular.
It was a request.
Jiraiya threw the notebook inside the box after having gone through the entry. It was too much to take in.
Dan wrote it as if Jiraiya would ever come across it; as if he had known something like this would happen. The Toad Sanin ran a hand down his face, feeling frustration bubble up inside of him.
Jiraiya,
Life is one full of uncertainties, all except one: we are certain of our death, whenever and wherever it will come.
Even if you’re a skilled shinobi, or just a simple farmer, nothing in life is set in stone.
I am writing this, in case I am no longer around. I hope this letter finds you, and if it does, it could only mean that I have passed on.
The first time I met you, I was scared and jealous. Scared, because you are a daunting man with extraordinary skills and a student of the Sandaime. You are a man full of power and charisma— a champion that only few can defeat. Jealous, because you are the man that had been by Tsunade’s side far longer than I have been, and your affections for her are unmistakable. From the way you and Tsunade act, there was no denying of the fire between you both.
If a man like you has been courting this woman, to no avail, what is a man like me doing, standing by her side?
And then, I got to know you, during that dinner. You were nothing like I had expected; you were kind and welcoming towards me. Me, an outsider whose only connection is that of Tsunade. I had expected you to be cold and threatening; I am the man that Tsunade chose, after all.
But instead, you were happy. Truly happy for Tsunade, and for me. All you ever asked of me was to love her. And I have. I will.
I do.
Now that I am no longer here, I ask you to do the same. If I am dead, I hope you are alive. You’re the only person I can trust Tsunade with, like how you trusted me to be with her.
Please be alive.
Live.
I’ve seen the way you look at Tsunade; I can’t blame you either. She’s just so beautiful. There’s something about her. No matter how many times I try to put it in words, I never can. Perhaps you could, one day. You are a writer, after all. Tsunade always said you had a way with words like no one else.
Another thing I’m a little envious of. Tsunade would always talk about how you’re wasting your wide vocabulary on erotica, but then I once saw a poem hanging on the wall of her room.
You wrote it. For her, on her birthday.
And while erotica isn’t my thing, you truly are gifted with words. And if there’s anything about women that you and I can agree on, it’s that they appreciate words backed with actions. From the looks of it, those two aspects come naturally for you.
People like us can only have so much. Life is already too delicate as it is without having to choose a path like that of ours.
We take what we can, be grateful and protect it at all costs. Even if it meant our own lives. But that would mean I would have to leave Tsunade behind.
Tsunade deserves to be loved. I, more than anyone else, wish to be the man that will be by her side to show her all the love and adoration she is entitled to.
But if you’re reading this…it simply means I cannot.
She has been through so much; having lost her brother at such a young age and constantly fighting the stigma around women. She has so much to carry, all on her own. When we first got together, Tsunade was hesitant to open herself to another kind of relationship. She was scared and anxious, worrying over what-ifs.
For all her fierce exterior, Tsunade is still a human being bound to her depression.
Despite it all, she is beauty itself.
Watching her be more of herself, be Tsunade, it was nothing short of art. If you don’t mind, I’ll try my best to take a leaf off your book.
I don’t know what your time with Tsunade was like. But my time with her, and the ones I hope I’ll have in the future…they’re nothing compared to the world.
She’s beyond the stars, but undeniable as the sun.
Words you wrote that describes her perfectly. The ones written on the poem on her wall.
Her strength balances out her vulnerability; Tsunade isn’t weak. However, she is someone whose weakness she desperately disguises as her strength.
No relationships are equivalent to no distractions. No pain. No brokenness.
But Tsunade…she has the tendency to drown herself in her pain. Don’t we all?
Well…if there is one thing Tsunade did tell me about you…it’s that you never seem to let your pain get to your head. You don’t let it drag you down. Tsunade admires that about you, did you know that?
And if I’m gone…she will need your passion for life in hers.
So please, love Tsunade.
Don’t harass her too much; you know how she would react to that. But if she’s drowning in work or stressed out, you already know which restaurant to go to.
Whether she admits it or not, your jokes are the only ones that make her laugh. Her ugly laugh, as she calls it. I think it’s adorable.
Also, don’t let Tsunade gamble too much. She may be the granddaughter of the first Hokage, but she has debts to her name. And well…she wouldn’t let me pay for her dues, but I don’t think she’ll mind much if you do.
Make peppermint tea for her when she’s drunk, take her out on dates at her favorite restaurant, and separate the liver sashimi from her plate.
Hold her, kiss her, take care of her.
Love her.
For the both of us, love her.
- Katō Dan
Jiraiya spent the rest of the evening crying for the man that captured the heart of the woman he loves. Could he do it? Could he actually do what Dan had asked of him?
Yes, he remembers that night too. He practically begged Dan to be the man Jiraiya could never be, and now the tables have turned. Now, he was the one being asked to be the man worthy of Tsunade.
But that was the thing! Jiraiya had long failed; way before he even realized how much he truly cared for his friend. Jiraiya buried his face in his hands, too tired to finish the task.
He rummaged through the box for the notebook. Jiraiya hastily flipped through the pages and found the one with his name on it. And without another thought, he ripped it off from the spine cleanly.
If only he could do the requests Dan had for him as easily. Dan was asking too much from him, if he was being honest.
It wasn’t that Jiraiya had no intentions or desire to be the man for Tsunade.
But something in his own heart tells him that it will never be.
Can never be.
And so when Dan came into Tsunade’s life, and by proximity, Jiraiya’s, there was relief and gratitude— someone was going to look out for Tsunade.
Not because she’s weak. Or that she needs someone to keep an eye on her (though, that is debatable when the woman’s drunk), but because Tsunade deserves to be loved. To have someone by her side simply because.
And here was Jiraiya, packing up the belongings of a man that should have been by Tsunade’s side.
But who has control over their lives, after all? Jiraiya once heard a proverb: a man plans his course, but the Lord directs his path. At the end of the day, we are all subject to something higher and grander, something beyond anyone’s control or knowledge.
With a resigned breath, Jiraiya carefully folded the letter, hiding it under his robe.
“I’ll do my best, Dan.”