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He feels confident.
Jiraiya’s involvement in the Third War is meant to be minimal. He has other things he could be doing, but he is loyal to the Third, he owes him everything. So here he is, escaping his infiltration of Kirigakure for vital information. Iwagakure blueprints, plans, numbers. Things that in another lifetime, perhaps he could have negotiated with Kirigakure for. Both could have benefited. Though he imagines a treaty with Kirigakure would go down like a lead balloon.
He can hear the ANBU following, just barely - the flicker of leaves that fall at one of their heavier footsteps. The pursuit takes him across water, to another island, and he leaps through the trees, leaving behind tags in the upturned roots. He glances over his shoulder, realising he hears them stop. Leaving him.
Giving up?
He smirks. His ego momentarily taking over: of course they give up. Get too far from home territory, they lose faith. Not that he’s really anywhere near the border of the Land of Water. Finally granting himself time to stop, he turns: the shine of the water in the moonlight can be seen through the sparse branches. It moves, as if rocked by some large beast beneath the surface, and then stills. No one is here. All the same, he sets few more traps, settling down to set a fire. Jiraiya won't sleep, he's not that foolhardy. But he wants to read the scroll in case anything goes really wrong.
He gets through the first few lines, and then he hears it: the twang of one of his wires snapping. He looks over his shoulder, studying the darkness. No tags going off, but another twang as a wire is snapped and recoils into the night. Jiraiya gives himself time to steady his footing in case he has to move, but as quick as he heard the approaching wiring snapping, it stopped. No one in sight. Too fast? Or a flock of birds? It doesn't matter: he still feels unsafe, and that means he has to move on. But the uneasiness crawls up his spine and sits on him like a second coat, and the feeling of being watched doesn't cease until he snaps his head up:
She's there, lit by the fire, seven or eight metres high up, not even trying to hide. Feet and palms glued to the branch by chakra as so that she's facing him, like some sort of fucked up bug. The glitter of the chain wrapped criss-cross around her chest catches his eye, as well as the spark of skin between her shirt and shorts.
They never stopped because they were afraid.
They stopped because Kirigakure had released her.
"You should give that back, Ji-kun!" Although the Second War wasn't necessarily that long ago, they both have clearly changed. He's grown bigger, and she's gained more scars to celebrate her battles. Their uniforms no longer seem to reflect their loyalty to their respective military; but an overall theme. Jiraiya is his own master, more or less. And Miyori is above anything Jonin might expect of her. "We worked hard to get that."
Jiraiya watches her intently. Of course, it makes sense to watch the enemy; but the way her lime eyes glow against the sparks of the fire seem unnatural. Enticing, in a funny way. But because he gazes at her (and she does seem to be enjoying being the centre of his attention), he can just see the lines between them. In her distractions of destroying his traps, she's laid out her own: and the wire is so thin he could have missed it. For once, staring at a pretty woman pays off. But they can't stay like this forever.
And that's the pain of meeting with Miyori: he can count on one hand the times he's met her on neutral ground, with no ulterior motive behind their eyes. And those have all been by chance; the moment Jiraiya thinks he's rid his life of her, the red string tugs them back together. He's never begrudged it.
He decides to make the first move, hurling shuriken to snap the wire and then launches straight after, bouncing after Miyori as she slithers behind the branch with a cackle - "How did you see those?" her demand is eager, impressed. Blocking his kunai with one of her own, the force of his strike pushing them both up and into the sky.
"I could just about see it - interrupting those pretty eyes of yours."
They're at war. Flirting is an absolute no go, for obvious reasons. Creating relations with the enemy is - for lack of a better term - advised against. But Jiraiya affords himself some fun (he can, considering his skill actually lives up to his reputation). Miyori's cackle rings in his ears like church bells, and he doesn't even mind when she grips his shoulder, fingers digging in through the coat. For a moment it's as if they're floating in the air with the clouds, away from reality. "What a charmer."
He smiles, unperturbed by Miyori flipping them both and with the added momentum, hurling him back down to the ground. He crashes through the branches before curling up and putting his fists together, his hair expanding suddenly and covering him in a protective spiked ball just as he slammed into the ground. He keeps moving, rolling backwards and onto his feet in time for Miyori to slam her heel into the ground, cracking it further. She unravels the chain around her, revealing kusarigama, however both ends are large curved blades. Spinning both violently fast, Jiraiya can feel the wind created from even that distance. As soon as she tries to close it, Jiraiya dodges and blocks - they leap through the trees, flipping over another as they swap cat and mouse.
"They must be desperate to keep this information if they sent you to get it back." Jiraiya notes, unable to take her eyes off her for a myriad of reasons as they slide to a halt on solid ground. Miyori scoffs. "Maybe we can come to an agreement."
"They don't send me to negotiate." and as if to emphasise her point, one of her blades flies past his head and splinters the tree behind him. "They send me as a last resort."
The thundering in his chest feels far beyond simple adrenaline of a near-miss, and the heat on his neck confirms it. He wishes his body would calm down a little. There's no time for him to consider her further as she yanks, the hooked tree ripping from its roots effortlessly, and it hits him on his back and launches him towards her. Within seconds he's performed a myriad of hand signs, and raises his finger to his mouth, "Katon: Endan!" the oil exudes from his lips and immediately bursts into flames, traveling faster than he does. The heat is too much and Miyori is forced to let go of her chain, speeding off to the left to dodge the flame bullet - only yanking the chain tight when she's clear of the projectile, and it causes the trunk to flip and barrel, bursting into pieces as it crashes into another and destroys a clearing. A second yank retrieves her blade, and she looks up to see Jiraiya falling down from the sky, and the ground beneath her turns to slush - "You're not going anywhere!" - true, the body stuck in the water can't move. And there's nothing unusual about Miyori staring him in the eye as he lands on her, so it isn't until the body explodes into water and coats him in mud and senbon that he knows he's got the wrong lady. Finally he winces in pain, letting his exhausting peek through the facade, looking over as a dozen or so Miyori's rise from the muddy water. "You know, I had a dream like this once." Jiraiya can't help it as he removes kunai from his stash, hurling two at the furthest clones - as they burst, the rest rush him at once, kusarigama flying through the air and into the water - he blocks one, dodges another and lets it hit another clone, ignoring the senbon exploding from the body and into his back.
"Oh yeah?" two of her say at once, cooing into his ear, "Not out in the middle of the woods, I bet."
"You'd be surprised." he takes an elbow to the face so that he can spin on his heel and kick them away, feeling another wrap an arm around his neck from behind and hold him there as another leaps up at him and kicks his jaw. The clone's damp touch is off putting. Not her. He kicks the other clone in front of him, letting it disappear, and Miyori walks towards him on top of the slush, catching the senbon between her fingers and throwing them aside.
"I don't think anything you'd do surprises me." she admits, quiet, as if they might be overheard. Her chest against his is too real, and Jiraiya barely even notices the last clone holding him disappearing back into the earth. "Miss me?"
"Couldn't possibly say, I think that might be classified." Jiraiya's lips betray his words as they crave Miyori's touch, leaning in - their noses graze each other. Her electrifying eyes went unblinking, as if she's drinking him in properly. Catching herself up with the beginning of the bags under his eyes. The smile lines that are etched into his face. The chase is never as fun as the prize, she reminds herself. Shame she's on a time limit. But she'll allow herself this one extravagance: a kiss, as Jiraiya so gently places one on her lips, as if she's made of glass. No one ever treats her with such fragility.
Before he can allow his lips to travel further, his hand snaps to the fingers wriggling in his hidden pocket. She's trying to take the scroll from right under his nose: "That's the oldest trick in my book! Have you been keeping up with me?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Miyori's sallow complexion will always give her away; her cheeks are pink even in the dark. "It's just - fun when you're the only man I can trick into getting this close."
"No one else brave enough to take on the challenge?" Jiraiya smirks, as if that might be a personal victory. Miyori raises her eyebrows, then smiles back. The curve of her lips is at a slant due to the scar that runs through them - a scar that Jiraiya himself had given her during the Second War.
"Stupid enough, more like." she leans back from him, and he straightens. "I need that scroll back."
"It's coming with me." he shrugs, still holding onto her. Still relishing in the touch they have.
"Then you better run." she doesn't sound regretful. Oh, she never does when the fight is back on. There's something about her joy that translates well into Jiraiya's brain, and he grins at her, nicking her chin - at least it makes her blush again, even with her smile. "And fast, Ji-Kun! I'll give you a head start. . . Five. . . Four. . ."
"Till next time, MiMi." he chuckles, shooting off, shaking the trees with his speed. Miyori starts to walk, trailing her blades across the ground.
"Three. . . " she begins to spin the blades, the speed picking up horrendously, her hair flying. She moves them so fast they're invisible to the naked eye, and she spreads her chakra from her palms to the blades, slouching down and swinging, letting the chains fly as far as they'd go, before the blades cleave and spin inwards: "Futon: Ashikubi Hitokuchi!" the rush of chakra released flies from the steel and chain, hurtling across the ground only a foot or so high, slicing through every tree, root and brush. It doesn't matter how fast Jiraiya had moved, and he was so far she could barely see him - maybe 400 yards or so - because every tree he had just used for cover suddenly collapsed with a thunderous explosion, and he barely managed to dodge the cutting wind himself, the leftover blast sending him flying farther. Miyori straightens up, hands clasped behind her back as if she is an innocent child winning their game: "I see you!"
She can't hear him laugh, but she knows he is. She can feel it. She crouches, clearly readying herself to leap, watching the dot in the distance move and flee even further. She smiles, teeth grinding. That's exactly what she wants.
"Run."