Chapter Text
Jiraiya
“Hey Pervy Sage!” Naruto yelled. “I think somebody put a curse on me or something. Look at these!” He opened his hand and crumpled orange flower petals studded with spit and blood spilled out. “I threw them up,” he said, sounding oddly proud of himself.
Naruto continued babbling about his many possible enemies just itching to take out a future hokage and destabilize Konoha, but Jiraiya heard none of it over the sound of pounding blood in his ears. His heart seized with fear. Jiraiya did his best not to let anything show on his face, though it was immediately clear he had failed when Naruto’s face creased with worry and he stopped talking. The little bastard was annoyingly perceptive.
“What’s wrong?” Naruto demanded. “Is it a really bad one? Can you fix it?”
It was very bad and Jiraiya couldn’t fix it. Tsunade could, but he doubted she would agree to it, not after what had happened the last time. Though the alternative…
“Have you ever heard of hanahaki disease, Naruto?” Jiraiya asked.
The kid’s face scrunched up as he went back into the recesses of his mind to see if he could dredge anything up. It didn’t take long, maybe because there wasn’t much there. The kid was a moron, a brilliant moron in his way, but a moron nonetheless. “Hakitaki disease? No.”
“Hanahaki disease,” Jiraiya said. “Sometimes, when someone loves another person and doesn’t know if the other person loves them back they start coughing up petals, then full blooms, then the flowers take root in the lungs and--” Jiraiya cut himself off. What was wrong with him? Kid didn’t need to hear this.
“And what?” Naruto asked. When Jiraiya didn’t immediately answer, Naruto set about his usual annoyance campaign, picking at Jiraiya’s clothes, flailing around in front of him, demanding that he not stop right at the most interesting part.
“They die, Naruto,” Jiraiya said, regretfully bringing Naruto back down to earth. “They die.”
“So I’m gonna die?” Naruto’s eyes widened with panic. “But-- isn’t--couldn’t we--Is that it?” The poor kid couldn’t even string a sentence together.
Jiraiya could practically feel Tsunade’s hand connecting with the back of his head. Way to break it gently dumbass. As if Tsunade--and a fantasy Tsunade at that--would have been any more tactful. She had the bedside manner of a raging pitbull.
“There are ways to fix it,” Jiraiya said.
“How?” Naruto asked.
“Well, uh, you could confess your feelings,”Jiraiya said, scratching his face. “If the other person feels the same way, you’ll be cured.”
Naruto’s pink cheeks and flustered face would have been adorable if the consequences weren’t so deadly. “I think that might be hard,” he murmured.
“Because you don’t think she’d like you back?” Jiraiya said. “Nonsense. You’re my godson, any girl would love to date you based off that alone.”
Naruto smiled briefly, too kind to let Jiraiya’s dumb joke fall completely flat, but his heart wasn’t in it, otherwise he would have launched into a tirade about how--if anything--Jiraiya’s involvement was a hindrance due to his pervy ways, but Naruto just lowered his eyes to the ground where the petals stirred lazily in the hot afternoon breeze.
“What’s the other way?” Naruto asked, his voice subdued. It was so strange, when the electricity left Naruto’s voice, he sounded like a completely different kid.
“There’s a surgery, To get the flowers removed, but it kills all your feelings of love. Not just for the person you love, but for anything or anybody. It leaves you heartless.”
Naruto used his knuckle to swipe at his eye, his gaze still firmly on the ground. “Those are my only options?”
Jiraiya wished more than anything in the world that it wasn’t so, especially after he had seen the whole thing up close and personal once before, but all he could do was nod.
“I’ll be back,” Naruto said. Without waiting for any answer he turned on his heel and walked away from their camp, back toward the little clearing by the water where he had been training while Jiraiya was wasting his time in town.
Jiraiya made to follow him. “Naruto.”
“I’m fine,” Naruto said. He forced a grotesque approximation of a smile onto his face. “Believe me.”
Jiraiya didn’t, but he let Naruto go. After almost a year on the road, he understood that Naruto had a difficult time letting go in front of other people. He always felt pressure to be the clown, to be the light, and he felt like a failure when he brought anyone’s mood down with his own. So, even though Jiraiya’s guilt told him to follow, he gave Naruto what he needed and let him go cry his tears in peace.
When Naruto came back some time later, it was almost impossible to tell that anything had been wrong at all. Jiraiya couldn’t tell if Naruto’s relentless optimism had taken over and he was genuinely fine or if he was even better at faking than even Jiraiya had realized.
“Time to go home, Pervy Sage,” Naruto said.