As the adrenaline rush from the mission’s high gradually wore off, when her zealous haze finally faded away, Sakura couldn’t help but feel its settling like a bag of rocks had been dropped on her head. It wasn’t anything particular reason, either, that a tetchy feeling overcame the kunoichi, but part of her suspected it was performance anxiety. That, although she’d done well with this mission, part of her wondered if she could keep such high standards and meet that bar as the Hokage’s apprentice. 

After all, she was Lady Fifth’s disciple. That epithet would never lose its weight, and she knew how monumental it was. In following the tail of an utter disaster by Orochimaru themselves, Tsunade had an enormous burden in not only running the standard affairs of the village, but also in repairing relations with Sunagakure and licking the wounds left behind that would invite opportunistic scrutiny like vultures and other nefarious scavengers. And Sakura knew she couldn’t falter or inconvenience her Shisou in any way. 

No, she had to keep driving herself as doggedly as possible and learn absolutely everything feasible. However long it was until Akatsuki really struck, she couldn’t afford to falter even the tiniest bit. “Oh, more training, Shisou?” she perked densely before correcting herself martially. “I mean–yeah, I’m totally down for more training! I’m not even the least bit tired!” Her smile spanned like extra fanfare, even if she realized that she was a little bit tired.

Dammit, no stopping now, Haruno! It’s full speed ahead until you drop dead!

Eyes narrowed slightly, Tsunade trying to perceive whether Sakura had really been asking for more training or if she had misunderstood her student’s request. After all, something felt off in Sakura’s response. Maybe it was too cheerful, even for Sakura, after a hard day’s work, or maybe it was just that, by this point, Tsunade had a sixth sense for the way the pink-haired girl was feeling (or it had something to do with her ability to tell people’s ailments by looking at them).

It would make sense that Sakura was too tired. She was just a genin, and though this had been an easy task for Tsunade, it wouldn’t be quite the same for a genin. Tsunade chuckled to herself. “Not even the least bit tired?” she repeated, leaning back slightly. “Then let’s make like Gai and do five-hundred laps around Konoha!”

“Okay okay just- promise me you won’t over do it.”

@slughime​ 

A KIND NOODLE SAID..

"Happy two hundredth birthday!!!! ❤︎"

“I’d say it’s a tie between the two of you to be honest.”

“I’m not saying don’t drink, I’m saying don’t drink too much. You get so rowdy when your drink you know.”

“Happy Birthday Lady Tsunade, just remember not to drink too much okay?”

@slughime​​ | cont’d 

          “After hearing stories of your strength — I though would be the best to pass by and see it for myself.” A polite bow whilst his right hand was placed over the chest. Eyes likely as excited kid that looked at a x-mas tree out of admiration, raw force should be respected not feared.  “A punch that can turn bones to dust? Totally phenomenal.  He he he.” A softly giggle followed his raised hands, gesturing punches in the air.  “Hope doesn’t bother you in any way, milady.  A stronger warrior like you probably get lots of compliments as that almost every second, ne. ~”

Blink. Blink. Surprise at first. Because this is a former member of the Akatsuki. And also... just... that came out of nowhere. But after a moment--

Jiraiya couldn’t help laughing at her assertion, thinking it so very like her to tell him how right she is. Hell, he’ll take it. He’d deprived himself of a whole lot of comfort and affirmation in the past, thanks to the way he’d lived the past few decades of his life, and one didn’t pass through death without appreciating things just that little bit more.

Things like being close to a loved one, feeling their tender touches, talking openly. So small, yet so important. They’d missed out on so much of each other.

Jiraiya, too, was feeling pensive at the thought, albeit his reasons were different to Tsunade’s. A different flavour of regret and guilt. Perhaps it didn’t sour his expression at all, in comparison, because right now he still couldn’t help being overwhelmingly happy, even for all those numerous details he still had to process to process. And maybe that was why Tsunade couldn’t keep looking at his smiling face and endlessly warm eyes, always as warm for her as ever they’d been… although he didn’t understand why.

“Hm?” He questioned with a furrowed brow, and reached out to run his fingertips gently from her cheek to her jaw, hinting for her to look at him once more. “Never what, Tsuna?”

Jiraiya’s voice was as soft as could be in his questioning, hopefully reassuring her that she could tell him anything. He’d never be angry or upset at her—couldn’t be, after they’d gone through so much and remained such close friends. He only hoped she had as much confidence in that as he did, enough not to bury things as they always used to.

Tsunade would, of course, always take the opportunity to tell Jiraiya how right she was, especially when it meant affirming him when they were suddenly being so open with each other. Well, mostly, because she hadn’t told him everything, not yet. Because she was still so guilty, for holding back so much, all along, being scared up to the very end.

And it was hard, because she didn’t know what that dream meant. Was it her thoughts and feelings and desires, her true ones, projected in her mind? Or was it just what the Tsukuyomi thought they were? Having that impossible choice in front of her, Dan or Jiraiya, it seemed natural that she would want to choose both of them, together, perhaps wondering and hoping that they would both care for each other, too. But if she really had to pick?

For a long time since Dan had died she had mourned after him, had even fulfilled his dream through her of becoming hokage. And she had loved him, truly, and had thought if only he were by my side now. But Jiraiya--he knew her, perhaps in a way Dan didn’t, because he knew her throughout the years, and he knew her now, and he, well, he was that magnetic force she was kept being drawn back to, she had thought for some inexplicable reason, but it turned out, it was actually, just simply, love. Not that she hadn’t loved Dan--she had, and not in a shallow or less true way. But now, here, she could make her choice.