Chapter 385: Would You Just Shut Up
Jiraiya found himself wanting to argue back but coming up with nothing — because he genuinely hadn't found a single trace of Orochimaru in months of searching, not one.
Meanwhile his own student, Minato, had apparently tracked the man down without breaking a sweat. Nothing quite hurt like a direct comparison.
The teacher had come up empty-handed; the student had knocked it out of the park.
Jiraiya honestly didn't know whether to feel proud or thoroughly humiliated.
Ugh, whatever — not the point right now. Why exactly had Orochimaru come back to the village in the first place?
Orochimaru had just claimed Minato personally invited him. So why would Minato want this man back? And why would Orochimaru actually go along with it?
Was there some kind of shady backroom deal between the two of them?
Jiraiya briefly pictured a suggestive green mist hovering over the whole situation, then immediately reconsidered — no, that couldn't be it. Both of them were men, for one thing, and Orochimaru was already middle-aged besides. His own student had perfectly ordinary tastes. No reason to assume anything untoward going on there.
Never one for subtlety, Jiraiya got straight to the point, frowning. "You said Minato invited you back — there's got to be a specific reason behind that, right?"
"Given everything you did in this village before, and the fact that you defected — there's no way Minato would've brought you back without some real motive."
Orochimaru pulled off the wide hat he'd been wearing, a faint smile crossing his pale, sickly features. He shook his head. "There is a specific reason, yes. I'm just not going to tell you what it is."
Jiraiya's brow shot up, and he crossed his arms, deadpan. "Why not? You and I hold roughly equal standing in this village. I should have the clearance to know something like this."
Orochimaru kept smiling, twirling his hat idly, and shook his head again. "Because you can't keep your mouth shut. Tell you today, and who knows how many people know by tomorrow."
"...Pfft! You bastard! My discretion's plenty good, thank you very much! What do you mean 'who knows how many people know by tomorrow'?"
"See, right there — you go shouting like that constantly. Of course everyone within earshot hears you."
"I'm shouting because I'm arguing with you, obviously!"
"Regardless — if you really want to know, go ask your student directly. Oh, and while I'm thinking of it — the village leadership hasn't confiscated my old house, have they?"
"How would I know that? I just got back myself."
"..."
Jiraiya's teeth ground faintly at Orochimaru's needling tone, but he had enough sense left to think it through properly.
He didn't know why Minato wanted the man back, or why Orochimaru had agreed to it so easily. But one thing was clear enough: as of today, Orochimaru was once again a Konoha shinobi.
His return meant he was officially a resident again — no longer a defector. Which meant Jiraiya no longer had any reason to keep tracking him down.
Add to that the fact that hardly anyone actually knew about the human-experimentation business — only the village's senior leadership and a handful of ANBU operatives had ever been briefed on it.
Which meant Orochimaru's return wasn't likely to cause much of a stir at all. Most civilians, probably even a fair number of shinobi, likely had no idea he'd ever defected in the first place — probably assumed he'd just been off on some extended mission or research trip.
Say what you like about Konoha's leadership, but their handling of classified information had genuinely been top-notch.
A few minutes later, walking along Konoha's streets, Orochimaru's gaze drifted nostalgically over the scenery around him.
He hadn't set foot in the village in several months. It had changed more than he'd expected — probably the season, if nothing else.
He'd left in summer; he was returning in winter. Naturally the two looked nothing alike.
Just then, Orochimaru's steps came to an abrupt halt, and he said, exasperated, "Why exactly are you still following me? Your place isn't even on the way to wherever I'm headed, if I remember right."
"Worried I'm going to defect again? Relax — I'm not leaving this village again for at least the next ten years. Your student Minato dangled an offer in front of me I genuinely couldn't refuse. Credit where it's due — the man's more than qualified as Hokage. Honestly, I'd say he suits the role better than Hiruzen-sensei ever did."
Jiraiya, still trailing behind him in his wooden geta, shrugged with total indifference, choosing to sidestep the matter of Orochimaru's past crimes entirely.
Hands laced behind his head, he let out a yawn. "I'm not following you. This just happens to be the road to Ichiraku Ramen. I felt like grabbing a bowl, that's all."
Orochimaru blinked, a flicker of genuine curiosity crossing his pale features. "How did you know I was headed to Ichiraku myself? Haven't been in a while — feeling a bit nostalgic for it, actually."
Jiraiya picked at his nose and flicked away a bean-sized bit of nasal debris. "Please. Of course I knew, Master Jiraiya here's got a sixth sense for these things. What's the phrase... kindred spirits? Yeah, that's it — kindred spirits."
At that, Orochimaru's eyelid twitched, his mouth curling in visible distaste as he turned pointedly away, as if he'd never met this white-haired man in his life.
He knew Jiraiya fancied himself a writer, and a fairly successful, bestselling one at that.
And yet this supposedly bestselling author had just butchered a basic idiom right in front of him. Was he even writing his own books at this point, or hiring ghostwriters?
Kindred spirits, of all phrases.
Two grown men, described as sharing that particular kind of connection — that would be a genuinely serious problem.
Orochimaru had long since lost interest in romantic or physical matters entirely — practically asexual, at this point, if he had to put a word to it. But even so, he had no desire whatsoever to have some man who'd just publicly flicked a booger declare "kindred spirits" at him to his face.
The phrase alone was practically an invitation to some deeply unfortunate misunderstanding.
Seeing Orochimaru ignore him completely, Jiraiya scratched his head in confusion — with the very same hand he'd just used on his nose, no less.
No wonder Orochimaru found the man so insufferable. Jiraiya's intelligence wasn't in question, but his everyday habits were more than enough to try the patience of someone with Orochimaru's mild obsession with cleanliness.
Orochimaru genuinely couldn't fathom how he'd ended up acquainted with someone like this, let alone how they'd become friends.
"Hey, hey, hey, Orochimaru, this isn't even the way to your place, is it? I thought your house was that way. Are you seriously heading to Ichiraku? I figured you were just joking around, or brushing me off."
"By the way, I heard you've still got a student here in the village. A girl, right? Aren't you going to go check in on her? Being this distant with women, you know, that's a recipe for staying single your whole life."
"Oh, and — ahem — turns out I forgot my wallet. You wouldn't mind covering me later, would you? Ahem, Orochimaru, you know how it is."
"Why are you ignoring me? Come on, at least say something!"
"..."
Listening to the man behind him ramble on without pause, Orochimaru genuinely considered spinning around and delivering a back-kick to knock him unconscious.
Thankfully Orochimaru wasn't the type to let impulse override his better judgment, and he forced himself to swallow the urge to actually hit the man.
He remembered Jiraiya not being this insufferably chatty in the past — was this some kind of midlife crisis turning him into this?
Orochimaru privately thought that if he were Tsunade, Jiraiya would probably already have several broken ribs by now.
He thought back to the days when the three of them fought side by side — Jiraiya constantly courting death in front of Tsunade, and every single time he got beaten half to death for it, it had been Orochimaru who'd carried the idiot to the hospital.
There'd even been stretches, after Tsunade's beatings, where Orochimaru had literally spoon-fed the man his meals.
That whole "playing both mother and father" experience had left Orochimaru with a lingering, exasperated fondness for Jiraiya — something between deep frustration and a stubborn hope he'd eventually shape up.
Come to think of it, why did he feel that way at all?
Orochimaru sank into deep thought. Had he somehow, at some point, started thinking of Jiraiya as some kind of son?
If this were genuinely his only son, he suspected he'd have disowned the man within days and tried for a replacement.
"Tch — fine, ignore me all you want. I don't feel like dealing with a virgin loser like you anyway!"
"Hey, hey, hold on, Orochimaru, you're not actually giving me the silent treatment, are you?"
"I chased you halfway across the continent for months, you know!"
"...Quiet. Nobody mistakes you for mute when you're not talking."
"..."
Finally free of Jiraiya's endless chatter, Orochimaru let out a small, relieved breath, his ears finally getting some peace.
The thought had barely settled before Jiraiya's voice rang out again.
"Oro— Orochimaru, am I dreaming right now? Punch me, would you? I need to check if I'm actually dreaming."
Orochimaru turned back, startled, to find Jiraiya frozen mid-step, an expression on his face like he'd just seen something genuinely unbelievable.
Following Jiraiya's line of sight, Orochimaru couldn't help but freeze himself.
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