FicWad

Jiraya Apocrypha.

-----------------------




Who so believes that the end comes with death knows everything there is to know about their own life and nothing about living.



-----------------------




Her voice sounded like it was like it was designed specifically for muttering in a language unknown to him, which sounded like nothing he had ever heard before. The words poured out of her mouth, thick and viscous, the color and consistency of blood. They curled out like scythes, dark and red and merciless, twisting and twirling in an unseen wind. They made complicated swirls in the air, and then drifted gently towards him, cold viscous tendrils sliding across his skin, examining him. Tendrils wafted through the air, caressing his face with an alien sentience that should have scared him, the cold viscous fluid that was at once air made solid and light made liquid. Her dark hair obscured her face slightly. She turned and pointed at him. An eerie smile slid across her face, one that told him he didn't want to understand the words crawling from her lips. The tendrils caressed his skin like hands. A warm liquid trickled from his head, dripping down into his eyes. On his left, he saw a mirror that reflected him alone. His face seemed unnaturally pale with the contrast of the darkness that enveloped him, continuing to stroke his body. His gray hair was coated in blood that constantly dripped into his face. He reached out, slowly, to touch the mirror and it shattered into dust, floating down like silver motes. He vaguely realized his action had caused him pain in the form of glass shards embedded in his fingertips, but he could not summon the energy to care. Nothing was accessible to him, not memories… not even his name. Nothing else existed save the girl before him, the cold on his flesh, the warmth of the blood, and what had just happened…. What he had just caused to happen. The male on his right didn't exist... nothing existed... not anything at all....




"What... is she?" He asked breathlessly. Orochimaru smiled mysteriously.




"Some label her a fey enigma." he said softly "others claim she is an elf, a faerie or an angel. But all those things are fey enigmas." He added as an after thought, "Her previous owner thought her a succubus." his laughter was soft. "Can't say I blame him..."



"She's beautiful…" Jiraya whispered, reaching out for the girl's hand. The blood that trickled down his face seemed to disappear.




"Do you want her, comrade?" Orochimaru whispered to his teammate, And Jiraya nodded slowly. Orochimaru's smile grew dark. "Then, let's make a deal, shall we?"




Later, Jiraya could not remember what he had agreed to, but he knew it was not worth what he had gotten from the woman. Peace, serenity, and a burning desire to write books that-of course- dealt with his favorite subject. Jiraya laid his head back in the woman's lap. She never touched him with anything but her darkness. He never touched her in the manner that he desired to touch other women. He called her his muse, allowing no person other than Orochimaru to ever see her. She was only with him for a short while, an ephemerally short time, as fragile as the gossamer wings of a fly. And one afternoon, she simply faded away, as endlessly, her last words stayed within his mind.




Live for today, for tomorrow never comes… He made her words into books.




Years later, Jiraya met a boy named Naruto, and somehow he could feel that his former teammate would hurt the child grievously.



He was not wrong.