How to betray friends and manipulate people
Somehow, over the years, Jiraiya had forgotton just how stressful parenting could be. He blamed Minato for that, Minato had been an unnaturally managable child. Leave Minato alone in any random location and he’d be exactly where you left him when you got back. He’d sit quietly and draw, or read fuinjutsu theory books, or write appalling love poetry that he’d burn long before he ever showed it to little Kushina. He was quiet, he was well behaved, he was easily entertained, he’d made Jiraiya forget what menaces small children could be.
Sakura was not like Minato. Sakura in fact reminded him of nothing so much as an unholy combination of Konan and Yahiko. All of Yahiko’s utter lack of self preservation, along with Konan’s mildly alarming quiet competence, and of course a lack of touch with reality that was her own special gift. Actually, teaching Sakura was shaping up to be even worse for his blood pressure than teaching both Konan and Yahiko at the same time had been. Maybe it was because there was no shy cautious Nagato to rein her in, or maybe it was just that the concentration of multiple terrifying traits in one small child had intensified the effects. Orochimaru would probably say he was obviously getting too old for all this, like that bastard had a leg to stand on. Jiraiya had seen the vacation pictures, Orochimaru had stolen a kid and he was three whole months older than Jiraiya was, so there. Jiraiya definitely wasn’t too old. In fact he wasn’t old at all. The Great Jiraiya was above such petty concerns as aging. Hah, he’d like to see Orochimaru handle a miniature menace like Sakura as well as he had.
Still, it might be a good idea to pay a visit to his non evil teammate. If only for the free health checkup. He could hardly teach his newest apprentice to be the greatest spy that ever lived if he keeled over from a stress induced heart attack after all. And maybe while he was there he could con Tsunade into handling the Talk. Because if his student was seducing her way into the lairs of supervilllains’ beautiful children this early, then clearly someone needed to have a word with her before things got out of hand and he had to murder Orochimaru’s son.
And maybe she’d have some tips for getting Sakura to stay in one place while he went to conduct… research, because nothing he’d tried so far had worked. Not even nailing her sandles to the floor, and locking her in their hotel room, she’d just taken that as a test of her ability to escape after being captured (the four hours he’d spent looking for her after that incident had been particularly high stress. He’d eventually found her asleep in the air ducts.)
Yes, visiting Tsunade might be a very good idea indeed. Maybe he could even get some sympathy points for the horrors Orochimaru had put him through. Holiday photos. Jiraiya had never believed his former teammate could sink to such depths.
…
There was chaos, glorious and destructive, and all his. Well his and Anko neechan’s.
The people, fluttering around the site of their criminal debut reminded Kiba more than anything, of the very first time his sister Hana had taught him and Akamaru to chase pigeons. All ruffled feathers, and panic, and squawking. It was satisfying on an instinctive level. Anko nee had the best ideas.
They’d robbed the Grass Daimyo’s palace, for their first foray into grand larceny, because the sacred code of the ancient and noble order of pranksters said to go big or go home, and neither of them were planning on going home any time soon. They’d stolen the Daimyo’s prized jewel encrusted dagger and replaced it with with a humerously shaped root vegetable. They’d dressed the palace guards up in amusing frilly pink outfits. They’d stood on the roof of the palace and held forth loudly on their grand plans for chaos and entertainment for all, before disappearing in a puff of smoke. Then they’d lurked while they waited for a reaction. They hadn’t been disappointed. In fact Kiba had foud it pretty impressive to feel that much killing intent coming off a civilian.
Then they’d made their final escape in a hail of pink glitter, confetti, and guards tied up in ribbons. It had been the best prank Kiba had ever pulled, and he had no doubt things would only get better. After all, as Anko neechan pointed out, the ancient and noble order of pranksters demanded that the only proper response to pranking success was escalation.
It wasn’t like anyone could stop them.
…
Tsunade blinked slowly through the rum induced haze. Surely that wasn’t… no… he wouldn’t dare… She blinked again, but it was, that bastard had finally deigned to show his cowardly, lecherous, face in her presence again. And he had a small child in tow.
Actually, Tsunade wasn’t sure why she was surprised. Jiraiya had a history of collecting small but terrifying students that then proceeded to follow him around like ducklings. With everyone else and their pack of summoned nin dogs stealing small children, it was only a matter of time before Jiraiya resurrected old bad habits. And of course, he’d come to her. Because somehow whenever Jiraiya got in over his head it somehow, mysteriously, became Tsunade’s problem.
She was tempted to just murder him then and there, and save herself the headache.
But then he started complaining at her and she decided death was far too good for him. His problems were of his own making, he had no right to complain. After all, no-one had forced him to do a Hatake with the brat, just as no-one had forced him to try and infiltrate Orochimaru’s base, and on that second point he really should have known better. After all, Jiraiya was very well aware of Orochimaru’s vicious streak, and considering how well they knew each other, he should have expected Orochimaru to be prepared for the eventuality of his arrival. If Orochimaru captured him and did unspeakable things to him he really only had himself to blame.
And as for the brat. Well Tsunade would admit to being mildly impressed by the girl’s determination, and mildly alarmed by her lack of self preservation, but that didn’t make her Tsunade’s problem. Sakura was Jiraiya’s problem. He stole her, he could take care of her. It wasn’t that difficult, he’d done it before, even managed to produce mostly functional adults in the process, although Tsunade still wasn’t quite sure how.
Besides, Tsunade had her own problems. It wasn’t like Jiraiya had to deal with being press ganged on top of his mentorship duties. Tsunade paused for a moment, actually that was a tempting idea. Try and complain to her would he. How about giving him something real to complain about. At very least it would be amusing to watch him suffer.
Jiraiya never even saw the punch coming.
When Kisame saw her sneaking on board ship with an unconscious toad sage slung over her shoulder and a small child with pink hair following from the shadows, he’d given her a wide shark toothed grin and a double thumbs up. Kisame always approved when people perpetuated long standing maritime traditions.
…
Asuma breathed in slowly, savoured the feeling of smoke curling through his lungs. He thought maybe Neiji was giving him a disapproving look, it was hard to tell with Hyuuga, but it seemed like the kind of thing his student would disapprove of. Kid was far too uptight.
No matter. He’d learn, or the capital would chew him up and spit him back out. Asuma had promised to teach the boy, to keep him safe away from Konoha, but there were some things only life could teach.
No doubt Kurenai and her team would be an education.
She had of course, told them very little. Asuma wished he could be surprised, but a woman ike that, a kunoichi like that, lived and breathed secrets, and it looked like time had only strengthened that instinct in her. She hadn’t told him much but she said was enough. A threat on the Daimyo’s life was after all, not the kind of think one of the twelve guardians could ignore.
Asuma was duty bound to investigate, even as he wondered just how many lies she’d spun into the thread of her tale. She wouldn’t tell where she got her information, any more than she’d tell her motives in coming to tell him, but the threat of it was enough. And… for all the lies and trechary he knew her to be capable of, still he found that in his heart, he believed her. Maybe it was stupid, but there was a weight of history there between Kurenai and him that couldn’t just be brushed aside. While she might manipulate, and omit, and play every situation to her own best advantage, he didn’t think she was outright lying. Not to him, not with everything they had been to each other. Whatever other games she was playing, the threat to the Daimyo’s life was real and that meant Asuma had a duty to listen to her.
They were due to meet later that evening, but Asuma knew better than to go in blind with a woman like that pulling the strings. No, he needed his own information, and he was a good enough investigator to know where to get it.
In a way it was almost a relief to be out of the palace, working, chasing down leads, trying to find answers, instead of hanging around the daimyo, looking suitably threatning and trying to avoid the sycophants that plagued the court. It was a relief, for once, to be doing something he was actually good at. Asuma was good at finding answers, at putting pieces together, far more so than he’d ever been at politics. Just another thing he and his father had failed to have in common.
He savoured the bitter ashy taste of cigarette smoke at the back of his mouth as he cast his eyes around the bar, looking for his target. No-one gave him a second glance, just another down on his luck soldier looking to drown his sorrows. Kurenai wasn’t the only one who knew how to be subtle. Neiji was drawing a certain amount of attention though. Traditional dress and byakugan eyes didn’t exactly help with blending in, and so the boy stuck out like a sore thumb. Asuma really should speak to him about that at some point. After all, it was his responsibility to teach the kid.
Still, the bar was safe enough for a yung ninja at Neiji’s level of skill and the boy served as a good distraction while Asuma made his way over to the corner where the Mantis held court.
He was an unassuming man, around middle aged, built small, with brown hair and brown eyes, and no chakra coils to speak of. There was nothing about him to hint of a threat and yet Asuma was carefully polite on his approach. The Mantis might not be a ninja, or even a Samurai, might have no particular strength in combat at all, but only a fool would cross him. After all, there was more than one way to be dangerous, and men like the Mantis employed people skilled in all of them.
“Well, now.” The Mantis grinned, all teeth as Asuma sat down in front of him. “This is an unexpected pleasure. What is one of the Daimyo’s own doing in my humble abode?”
“I’ve had some upsetting news.” Asuma replied, polite, but carefully relaxed. He was too well trained to show weakness to a predator. “I was wondering if you might have some details you’d be willing to share.”
“And why would I do a thing like that.” The last time Asuma had seen a smile that hungry it had been on a Kiri nin with teeth filed into points.
“If the Daimyo were to die, it would result in a considerable amount of instability. Instability is generally held to be bad for business.” Mantis nodded in consideration.
“It depends on the business, but, broadly speaking that is true. Very well, I can tell you where to look for the information you seek. I’ll expect a favour in return of course.”
“Naturally.” Asuma gritted his teeth, he’d known he wouldn’t get out of this without owing, but it still stuck in his throat.
“Well then, since we are in agreement I’ll tell you this. The word is that one of Lady Butterfly’s girls was murdered two nights ago, for hearing things she shouldn’t have in the late hours of the night.” A chill ran down Asuma’s spine at that declaration. Lady Butterfly’s girls were protected, for someone to have broken that agreement, it meant trouble of more than one kind. Mantis continued as though he hadn’t noticed Asuma’s concern.
“She’ll see you if I send a letter of introduction, and she’ll help you if you promise her blood.” No doubt she would. Lady Butterfly was in many ways even more dangerous than Mantis was. Perhaps even more dangerous than Kurenai, if only by dint of the vicious cunning that came with age.
It might be best to wait until after his meeting with Kurenai, before he tried to confront Lady Butterfly on her own turf. At very least it would allow him to take backup, because like hell was he dragging Neiji into that viper den.