Return Of The Madness

Chapter 15

Yuma was pissed, tromping along the streets of Konaha as she smeared the crimson tears across her cheeks irately.

The Akatsuki was her family, she just knew it. All those times they spent together, couldn't have just been... fake.

Villagers were staring, whispering, but she didn't care. She just wanted to find somewhere that she could be alone and think.

"Up we go!"

She gasped as an arm snatched her up easily, moments before she was suddenly airborne, seated on a shoulder with the arm wrapped securely around her legs. Her arms wrapped around the nearest thing to her, a head of long, wild white hair.

She felt no I'll intent from this person, so her question came in a relatively casual fashion. "Who the hell are you?"

The person looked up, a tanned face, red tear-like lines, a mischievous grin. "You know who I am, kid," he chuckled as they zoomed over the village, towards the Hokage monument. "How many people have you scorched the hair of?"

"Not many who's still alive," she responded thoughtfully as the man set her on her feet atop the monument. The man gave a snort, plopping onto his hind end and crossing his arms and legs, and Yuma got a better look at him. Green clothes under a oversized red vest, traditional wooden sandals, a scroll or two strapped to his back. Slowly, memories worked with letters to provide: "Jiraiya?"

Grinning at the still standing girl, Jiraiya nodded, patting the ground beside him. Yuma hesitated only a moment before joining him with a heavy sigh.

"Welcome home, kid," Jiraiya smiled, reaching up to ruffle her hair. She allowed it, though a sour expression stained her pale face.

"Everyone says that, but..."

"Doesn't feel that way yet?" He guessed, and she nodded defeatedly. "C'mon, kid, cheer up, things aren't so bad."

"I have trouble with fake memories, some of my closest friends are hated criminals here, I'm fairly hated by most of this village, not to mention that two of my friends are dead, and-" her lip quivered, and she turned away from the frowning man. "Are you going to scold me, too?" She asked, voice wavering.

"Eh? Why would I?"

Yuma scoffed. "Please, I know how you all feel about- eh?!"

She was cut off as his heavy arm fell across her shuddering shoulders, pulling her into his warm side. Before she could protest, he spoke in a soft voice.

"Friends can be found anywhere," he said. "And I imagine that spending two and a half years with people you trust- even if it was originally artificial trust- would make for plenty of opportunities to form very real bonds."

Yuma was silent, biting her lip. The gesture, though she barely remembered him, was warm, and comforting, and very welcome in this moment. He wasn't judging her, wasn't calling her friendships fake... She found herself leaning into him, crimson tears falling and soaking into his vest, which was luckily already about the same shade.

Jiraiya heard her hiccups, and felt her shaking against him as she took refuge under his arm. He continued on, still speaking softly.

"The others know this, but they don't want to acknowledge it, because the Akatsuki took you from your home..." he waited for her to protest, but she didn't, so he kept going. "Two and a half years of not knowing whether you were alive or dead, not being able to be there for you, can you imagine the pain they all went through, especially after losing two members of their family at about the same time?"

She sniffled. "Y-You mean..."

"The raven haired boy you've probably seen in photos, Sasuke. He left not long after you, going to another enemy of the village, a Sannin and rogue ninja named Orochimaru."

The name left a bitter taste in Yuma's mouth, and she grimaced. "I didn't like him," she deduced.

Jiraiya chuckled. "Not at all," he agreed. "You nearly killed him before we stopped you and took him into custody."

She tilted her head up, and Jiraiya smiled. "If he's in custody, how did..." She trailed off, unsure of how to phrase her question.

Jiraiya sighed, looking out over the village. "Sasuke helped him escape."

"Why?"

"For power. Orochimaru offered Sasuke power, so that he could achieve his goal of revenge."

The two fell silent.

"So did... they really miss me here?"

Jiraiya gave a loud, playful groan that had Yuma's lips twitching into a stubborn smile. "That blonde knucklehead wouldn't shut up about it! Get Yuma back this, get Yuma back that! That pink haired girl, too, trained under Tsunade so that she'd be strong enough to bring you home," he grinned. "And Kakashi..." he faltered, eyes softening as she flinched, their earlier fight coming to mind. "He took it the hardest when you left."

"Really?" Yuma asked curiously, and Jiraiya nodded.

"I'm not sure I've ever seen him so depressed. It took a couple of months for him to talk to anyone outside of your team, and he was totally hell-bent on getting you back. You were- you still are- like a daughter to him, and when you were suddenly gone? That hurt him worse than any physical wound could've."

As this sank in, Yuma looked over the village, her chest swelling with varying emotions.

"You don't have to forget or disregard your friendships," Jiraiya muttered. "But there are two things you need to keep in mind. First, you'll need to be patient with your friends here, they may not understand for a good while. Second, the people here, and the people there, are enemies. Now that you're home, there's nothing your team and friends won't do to keep it that way, and there's a good chance that more people are going to die. I don't want to-"

"I know," Yuma whispered, burying her face in the side of his chest. "I know."

"And one more thing," Jiraiya said. "Don't forget to mourn for your friends. It's not healthy to keep all of that inside."

Jiraiya sighed softly as she shuddered against him, rubbing her arm comfortingly as silence swept over them both.