I have been growing increasingly fascinated by Jiraiya over the past few months, and I felt the need to type down this drabble concerning his character, despite the fact that I will be repeating and using a person that I've already written about.
I just couldn't help myself. .
Title: The Here and Now
Words: 100
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto
Smoke dribbled across the room, snaking its way over bare skin, empty bottles of sake, and one man's shadowed eyes.
Sweat, burnt sandalwood, the musk of sex.
Scents filled his nose, while he listened to the shamisen slowly being stroked by some faceless musician, a feminine shadow who colored the delicate rice paper walls.
Jiraiya wanted to chuckle, to grin, but the drowse of the sated had filled his bones. And, he was only able to peer blearily from beneath sleep-heavy eyelids, as he let the present drift over him, clouding his memories.
Washing away nostalgia in a haze of gratification.