Standoff

A twig snapped behind him, tipping him off.

In a flash, Jiraiya had spun, the kunai hurled to his face twirling haphazardly from his fingers.

"Orochimaru," Jiraiya acknowledged his teammate – or whatever he was supposed to refer to him as.

Another flurry of movement; the kunai was hurled back into its owners grasp, halted mere centimeters from the original assailant's face.

"Jiraiya," Orochimaru nodded back, stowing his weapon.

The two men circled each other, simply for show, barely sizing the other up – both knew the other nearly as well as he knew himself.

"You could have killed me, you know," Orochimaru pointed out in mock indignation.

Jiraiya snorted, "I could say the same…"

They ceased their pacing, halted directly in front of one another.

"Although, had I been hit by a throw like that, I deserve to die," Jiraiya continued teasingly, a ghost of a smirk flitting across the hard features of his face.

"I could say the same as well," Orochimaru countered stiffly.

Both stared in silence for a few moments before bursting into laughter. Jiraiya's booming chortles echoed throughout the valley as Orochimaru stifled his soft snigger with a hand. Unconsciously, the two companions drifted closer together, filling in the cautious gap between them.

Their mirth subsided; their eyes met. And instantly both flared, the sound of clashing metal resonated as the Sannin met evenly.

Springing back simultaneously, they crouched into identical fighting stances, weapons bared in front of them. In happier times, further back in their youth, their sensei would have commended their form. The two would have accepted the praise together; they had practiced and trained each other to perfection.

Yet the time for fond memories was past, as was the time when simple praises from their teacher would content them.

They laughed again; darker and mirthless, however, no guard was let down this time.

Jiraiya's eyes narrowed, matching his opponents beady slivers; an unfathomable glare etched itself upon his face. Few people knew the man well enough to spot the tinged sadness behind the expression – the other man in front of him being one of them.

Orochimaru tensed, bracing himself for another attack, even when the other ninja's grasp on his kunai slackened.

"A trick I won't fall for Jiraiya-kun, don't bother," Orochimaru spat, raising his weapon eye level.

Jiraiya shook his head sadly, lowering his own further, "You know perfectly well I could hurt you about as much as you could hurt me."

Orochimaru shrieked forced laughter at him with wide-eyed insanity, "And you, my comrade," He said mockingly, "aren't aware of what I'm capable of anymore,"

The circling began again.

"Far more, anyways, than what you have, or ever will, be able to do!" With a jump, the space between the two was closed again, yet only for a split second as Jiraiya leapt across to where his attacker had just left.

"It is not a question of skill, you fool." Jiraiya chuckled, "Although I still argue I have you beat there."

"Enough riddles, Jiraiya!" Orochimaru lunged again, Jiraiya evaded once more.

"I have no blood brother, Orochimaru, but if I did, I could not imagine one I would hold closer to my heart than you," Jiraiya conceded sincerely, not a single trace of mockery in his voice.

Orochimaru searched for an opening, finding none, began to fumble for a fitting retort, yet that evaded him as well.

"So you refuse to fight?" Orochimaru spat childishly.

Jiraiya sighed, shaking his head.

"We are shinobi, we do not cower in fear at battles for simple matters such as sentimentality."

Even with these words, however, his weapons were lowered limply to his sides.

"Then why do you refuse to face the inevitable? You know as well as I, that only one of us will leave this clearing tonight," Orochimaru countered.

"You hide behind this false bravado, as usual," he accused, "Whether you want to fight or not, this battle is happening, as you well know."

"No, Orochimaru, I stand by my previous words," Jiraiya said much more confidently than he actually felt, "You will not harm me."

Orochimaru snarled, but did not strike.

"I admit, there was once a time, perhaps even more recently than I would like, that I thought of you as a brother. You were my best friend, Jiraiya. Were in the past tense being the key word, here," His voice wavered a moment before he continued, "Then we grew up. The time where we trained, fought, and bled together is through. I offered you an alliance, yet you turned me down. What am I supposed to do with a brother who refuses to support me?"

Comprehension dawned on Jiraiya's face, before his face screwed up in derision.

"I can't believe this. You're just hurt, aren't you?"

Orochimaru's face froze, his snarky intent gone.

"What? No—"

Jiraiya's laughter interrupted him.

"Your feelings were hurt when I refused to run away from Konoha with you," Jiraiya taunted, collapsing to the ground in amusement.

"Shut up," Orochimaru ground out scathingly, "Don't flatter yourself, my disappointment at your betrayal is irrelev—"

"My betrayal?" Jiraiya sat up instantly, still stifling sounds of mirth behind his hands, "I wouldn't betray our home, Orochimaru. You may be my brother in all but blood, but everyone else we have ever loved resides in Konoha."

"You loved, Jiraiya. Everyone you have ever loved resides in Konoha. I hold no emotional ties to anyone in that dump."

Jiraiya roared with laughter again.

"Don't act tough, Orochi-kun," He teased mockingly, "Don't believe for a second you would actually let anyone hear that. Don't bother telling me you have somehow severed your respect for Sarutobi-sensei in your stupid excuse for a rebellion. And, oh, how about Tsunade-chan?"

"Shut UP!" Orochimaru screeched.

"What, Tsunade-chan?" Jiraiya taunted, "We never discussed your offer, you know. Both of us never even considered running away from everything. Abandoning everything; even for you."

While he had began humorously, Jiraiya couldn't control the spite ebbing into his words as he looked at his teammate pointedly, still kneeling on the ground.

"That's it Orochimaru. No one would support your disgusting experiments. Then, no one would run away from the village with you. You are acting like a spoiled child who was refused candy. We grew up, my ass—"

"SHUT UP!" Orochimaru screeched, darting over to strike his friend on the ground before poising himself above him, kunai out, before either of them blinked twice.

Jiraiya smiled liltingly, his nose starting to bleed where Orochimaru had hit him.

"Go for it. Kill me," He dared good-naturedly.

Orochimaru grit his teeth and pressed the kunai to his throat, where rivulets of blood appeared as his hand trembled. Jiraiya stared unflinchingly, all traces of humor subsiding when Orochimaru met his gaze completely against his own volition. The ninja's face contorted in an astonishing amount of conflicting emotions. Underlying his features, however, was an undeniable tinge of pain amidst overall sadness.

"Don't think I won't," Orochimaru spat, far less threateningly than he had wished.

"You won't," Jiraiya countered, "Brother." He added emphatically.

A war raged in Orochimaru's mind. There was some sort of pounding in the back of his head and someone seemed to be screeching and blowing a whistle simultaneously somewhere in the distance. He futilely tried to ignore the feeling that a herd of wild elephants was trampling his insides.

All in one motion, the kunai in his hand was drawn halfway across Jiraiya's throat, who didn't even scream out, while in the next second he was thrown against a tree seven feet away; Orochimaru sprung back to the other side of the clearing.

"Go. Now." Orochimaru said dangerously, trying to reign in the urge to beat the ground.

Jiraiya ran a finger along his half-slit throat, staring for a moment at the blood before nodding, wiping the liquid onto his tunic. He paused for a moment, almost said something, before turning his back fully against his friend; a universal symbol for trust.

Orochimaru stared hollowly as Jiraiya walked calmly through the trees before turning around and flitting into the woods himself.

Both turned around only once, simultaneously, and neither said what was unanimously unspoken.

"Goodbye."

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