Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sun hadn't even fully risen yet, and already the front door of Jiraiya's house was being pounded so hard it rattled on its hinges.
Half-asleep and yawning, Jiraiya shuffled to the door and opened it — only to find Tsunade standing there, fuming, with Hoshiyomi beside her looking a little helpless.
"Haa~miamia~ Oh, it's Hoshiyomi and Tsunade. What brings you two here so early in the morning?"
Seeing Jiraiya in nothing but a wrinkled sleep robe, a vein bulged on Tsunade's forehead in the shape of a cross. She forced down her anger and asked through clenched teeth:
"The thing Hoshiyomi and I reminded you about a few days ago — did you completely forget?"
"A few days ago?"
Jiraiya scratched his messy, bird's-nest hair, trying to recall. After several long seconds, he finally smacked his left fist into his right palm and said:
"Oh! I remember now."
Hearing that, Tsunade's anger eased slightly. She crossed her arms, giving him a you'd better remember look.
But then Jiraiya grinned excitedly at Hoshiyomi.
"Hoshiyomi, you won't believe it — the izakaya I went to last night actually had hostess girls! And man, one of them had a body that was just… tsk tsk! Next time I'll take you along so you can see for yourself!"
As Jiraiya's face took on a lecherous, daydreaming expression, the veins on Tsunade's forehead began twitching violently.
Finally, she couldn't hold back anymore. Her fist shot upward, smashing square into Jiraiya's jaw — a perfect Uppercut of the Rising Fist that sent him flying into the morning sky right alongside the newborn sun.
When he finally crashed back down to earth, Tsunade grabbed him by the collar before he could even stand up.
"Hoshiyomi and I have been running around worrying about your love life, and you're at home sleeping all day — fine, whatever. But then you go out looking for hostess girls!?"
There was one more thing she didn't say aloud — "And you even wanted to bring Hoshiyomi with you!?"
Standing nearby, Hoshiyomi watched Jiraiya getting pummeled and shook his head helplessly. What a shame…he didn't get to mention the hostess's location.
Just as he was daydreaming about maybe actually tagging along one day to "see what it's like," he suddenly felt Tsunade's icy glare sweep toward him. His whole body froze.
Straightening up instantly, Hoshiyomi put on his most righteous expression and declared:
"Good hit! What hostess girl? We're not here to listen to him talk about hostess girls! And bringing me along? Please, as if I'd ever go to a place like that!"
When Tsunade turned her gaze away, Hoshiyomi finally let out a sigh of relief. He glanced at Jiraiya, who was giving him a pitiful, betrayed look, and silently mouthed the words: Nonō.
That did the trick — realization hit Jiraiya like a brick. Seeing Tsunade raise her fist again, he hurriedly waved his hands and said:
"Right, right, I remember now! Nonō! You two were setting me up to meet Nonō, weren't you? Stop, stop, stop, Tsunade! If you smash my face, how am I supposed to go on a date?"
Seeing that her "memory-recovery therapy" had worked, Tsunade finally withdrew her fist, satisfied.
"Relax," she said, "as long as you're still breathing, I can fix your face. But let me be clear — if you act like an idiot when you meet Nonō today, you know what'll happen."
———
Inside Jiraiya's bathroom, the man himself was furiously brushing his teeth, while Hoshiyomi leaned lazily against the doorframe, grinning.
From the corner of his eye, Hoshiyomi could see Tsunade in the living room glaring at the piles of "research material" scattered across the floor, her expression one of pure disgust. Hoshiyomi turned back to Jiraiya and said, half laughing:
"Seriously, why do you keep provoking her? Did that beating feel good or something? If you wanted to talk about hostess girls, couldn't you at least do it privately?"
Jiraiya, still watching Tsunade's reflection in the mirror, grimaced and said through foamy toothpaste:
"Heh, I just woke up — wasn't thinking straight. But seriously, that hostess from last night had an amazing body. I'm telling you, she was at least a D-cup."
Hoshiyomi rolled his eyes and muttered inwardly:
What's so special about a D?
But Hoshiyomi kept a serious expression on his face as he said:
"We'll talk about that later. You haven't had enough of getting beaten up, have you? Anyway, about Nonō—did you seriously not give that any thought at all?"
At that, Jiraiya paused for a moment, then started brushing his teeth again as if nothing had happened.
"Tch, it's just a woman. Come on, I, the great Jiraiya, have wandered among flowers for so many years — passing through countless blooms without ever letting a single petal stick. Women… I've never taken them seriously, alright?"
Hoshiyomi rolled his eyes.
"Oh, please. What kind of women have you even been with these years? Not a single one was decent. And tell me, which of them wasn't after your money or your body? You're almost forty — don't you ever think about settling down? Getting a wife, having kids, a warm home?"
Being called out so bluntly made even Jiraiya's old face flush red. After a moment of silence, he sighed and finally spoke his true feelings in that small bathroom:
"Alright, I'll be honest with you. It's not that I don't care. Nonō's a great woman — good-looking, gentle, and strong. But that's exactly the problem. She's too good. I just don't think someone like me could ever be worthy of her.
You think I haven't wanted to try and take a relationship seriously? Of course I have. But the thing is, once a habit's been formed, it's damn hard to break.
I've lived carelessly for too long. Even when I want to be serious, it's hard. Whenever I talk, I can't help throwing in dirty jokes. Whenever I get close to a woman, my hands just… act on their own, reaching for her butt before I even realize it.
Tell me — what decent woman could possibly accept a guy like that?
The indecent ones, sure — they don't mind. But we both know that's just mutual convenience. There's no real feeling there, just a bit of playacting.
And during all my travels, yeah, I've met women who genuinely wanted something real with me. But I just can't control myself.
The first time we meet, I can't stop with the pervy talk. If I don't say something dirty, my hands start wandering. So after one date — that's it. None of them ever want to see me again.
I've come to terms with it, honestly. This is who I am. I'll probably die like this, because I don't think I can change anymore."
For a long while, Hoshiyomi said nothing.
He had known Jiraiya for years, but this was the first time he'd ever heard him speak with such raw honesty.
He hadn't realized how much frustration and self-loathing Jiraiya had been hiding behind all that joking and bravado.
And when he thought about it, it really did make sense — Jiraiya had never had a proper relationship.
As a kid, he was the village pervert no girl wanted to deal with. As an adult, he spent years surrounded by women who weren't exactly "serious relationship" material. After living like that for so long, it was no wonder his habits were carved deep into his bones.
But still, Hoshiyomi thought, this couldn't go on forever. As a good brother, he had to help him somehow.
With that thought, Hoshiyomi patted Jiraiya on the shoulder and said:
"Don't think like that, Jiraiya. You've got to remind yourself — sure, you drink, flirt, and tell dirty jokes, but deep down, you're still a good man. Besides, I just thought of a way that might actually help you break this habit."
"Oh yeah? What way?"
"Ever heard of a six-person group date?"