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ihopenoonefindsthispage · 5 months

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we've pretended to forget the things we hold dear.

Toji doesn’t know how he wound up here, nor is he particularly concerned about it. He figures that he died twice before in that other place and there really is no proving that the third time's the charm. So is he trying to find a way back? Not really. What he is trying to do, though, is find somewhere in this god forsaken world to rest his aching head.

He’d woken up on the side of some beaten path with a surprising lack of holes in his head. Which was astounding, right? But not as astounding as waking up in the first place. He just can’t seem to stay dead. Despite the air he is breathing that proves otherwise, Toji still feels dead to the world. Or like he wishes he was dead. All due to the nearly debilitating migraine he has, the only real remnant of his short stint at being a victim of himself. That and the hollow feeling for having missed out on knowing someone great. In all aspects other than physical, his track record with being his own worst enemy was telling.

When he could gather enough strength to stand on his feet he hobbled along like some sloppy drunk down the dirt path beneath him. There was nothing but trees behind him. And nothing but trees beside him. He was sure that with every step he took the treeline would never narrow ahead of him. The wide path he trekked kept on and on and the sun blitzed him between the foliage. He kept on this way until he approached what he mercifully hoped was civilization. That was when the ‘where’ of his situation began to needle at him. The ‘how’ didn’t bother him. The’ why’ was out of reach. But he desperately needs to know where, because from the looks of things, he must have brained himself a couple hundred years into the past.

The dirt road he had been trudging on with the expectation of finding pavement, cars, or a skyline led him to the edge of some rinky dink town. From where he is standing he can see people scuttling about dressed in old fashioned garb, certain aspects more retro than others. People called out from behind stands selling wares, some going about their day in creaking carriages, some just walking around the dusty roads.

Toji grits his teeth as another painful jab attacks him right behind his eyes. He decides to once again shelve his short lived concerns and looks around for anything that would be of use to him. His white sweater, a little brown from rolling around in the dirt and black pants don’t seem too out of place here, but even if it were, he wouldn’t’ve been bothered enough to care.

He listens to the voices and noises all around him, sniffs the crisp, clean, non-metropolitan air. His eyes rove about to discern escape routes, easy or hard targets, threats and what not. Despite the hindrance of his ailment, he feels capable enough to be able to defend himself if necessary, but doesn’t see anyone under the setting sun in this circus to be wary of. No one pays him any mind as he meanders around poking his head into businesses and under flaps, even with his very distinct height and build, but that is what he expects. He pauses at one place, though when the smell of cooking meat settles in nose. He hears the hearty laughter and clinking glasses and figures that maybe some food will do him some good. He just has to find someone willing to take care of the bill.

When he’s fully inside of the building, he eyes the occupants from a dark corner near the door, searching for either a kindly, lonely, or drunk looking woman that might take some pity on him. Habits do die hard. Harder than he does as least. But the only two women in the place that would even remotely fit the bill is flitting all around the other one trying to force some water down her throat.

“Lady Tsunade, if you want to make it to the next village in a timely matter then you should head to bed soon!” The woman seems young, her dark hair cut short, and for a moment he sees a familiar face superimposed over hers. Hears that fretting voice and aches just a small amount.

“Ugh, fine. Just one more bottle and then I’ll let you tuck me in! Go ‘head and find us a place for the night.” The other woman speaks gruffly, a bright red blush scorching across her pale face and blonde strands sticking to her pouty lips. She swats at the dark haired woman’s hands and a pig of all things drops out of her lap.

The woman relents, saying she’ll be back and makes a quick exit after scoping up the smartly dressed pig and paying the bill. Before Toji can finish his third step towards the woman left behind, she turns around on her stool to fully look him in his eye, the drunken flush on her face not doing anything to soften the steely glint in those honey colored eyes as she scrutinizes him. Toji is thoroughly surprised.

“Wha do ya want brat? I could feel you burning holes in the back of my head!”

The surprise is gone. Now he feels slightly affronted to be called a brat, but does his best not to show it.

“Brat? I think I’m hardly young enough to be called that.”

She scoffs at him but doesn’t refute the statement. He takes this as an invitation to join her. He tries his best not to stare at her unexpectedly large assets he can see now that he’s sitting next to her, so he sweeps his lecherous gaze across the table instead for anything he could pocket. He sees a greasy brown bag, a few empty bottles and plates, and a closed pouch the same green as the haori she wears.

“Tha didn’t answer my question.” She says instead, her sensibilities still intact even with all the sake littering her table and the deceptive slur she speaks with. Toji smiles charmingly.

“I just thought you were a beautiful woman whose company I might enjoy.”

She remains unmoved. “How sleazy.”

Toji cracks a smile, “I’m just a simple man trying his luck.”

The woman, whose name he knows is Tsunade, finishes her swig with a content sigh. “I doubt there’s anything simple about you with a build like yours. And that mug to match it.”

“So you noticed that I am sturdy enough to make things interesting and dashingly handsome?”

“You’re the biggest thing in this place, brat, ‘course I noticed.”

It isn't quite an agreement of what he’d implied and she completely ignores the part about him being handsome, but he isn’t hurting in the vanity department. Toji wants to question if that was the only reason why she was able to notice him walking up to her from behind but says instead, “There are so many ways I can reply to that but I’ll let your imagination run wild for me instead.”

Her red nails drum on the tabletop, probably as an effort not to slap him. She grouches to herself mostly. “Ya really are a sleazy bastard. Probably would get along great with that old pervert.”

With another disorientating stab at his skull, he doesn’t have it in him to keep up the banter. The woman’s patience with him in her space was dwindling quickly anyways. He thinks that maybe running himself through in the head might have knocked something in his brain loose because he decides to be honest instead. “Okay, I’ll give it to you straight. I was hoping to get a free meal out of you.”

A tick forms over her eyebrow as she glares at him, her voice sounding clear at the moment. “You think I’m some granny who will feed any old stray puppy that trots up to me?”

Something being knocked loose in his head really must be the only explanation for what he says next. “There’s no way anyone would confuse you for a granny with tits like those.”

He sees the fist coming and dodges like he would any other time, however he nearly choked on his own tongue from the crater she created where he was previously sitting.

“What the…”

“I can’t say it enough how damn sleazy ya are, ya punk!”

Toji feels himself die for a third time, only it’s not real and he’s still staring dumbfounded at the hole where he would have been if his instincts weren’t so honed.

“And simple my ass! Ya must be some shinobi or mercenary to move like that! I’lla flick ya into next week if ya don’t get the hell away from me!”

Deadly as his instincts are, it seems like not all of them have survived his escapades because he only steps back a few steps and asks the woman, “How in the world did you do that?”

She tsks, standing up to leave, seeing as he wouldn’t. That and the owner of the place would probably try and make her pay for repairs if she didn’t do a vanishing act. “With chakra like any other shinobi would.”

Shinobi? She’s mentioned that word twice now but he still doesn’t quite understand. His brain is working overtime. He hasn’t seen or felt a lick of cursed energy anywhere since he’d woken up wherever he is. Especially not when the woman was aiming that death flag for his head. The surge of pain that zips through his head nearly topples him to his knees.

“Fuck,” he says hoarsely.

The woman takes a good look at him, letting her eyes trail over his dirty attire and worn down expression. She shakes her head, huffing to herself with crossed arms.

“Oi, brat,” she turns away from him, “grab the stuff on the table and follow me.”

Regaining his stability, Toji turns around and without really questioning her reasons, and hoping that she’s about to throw him a bone, he gathers her to-go bag, a half empty bottle of sake and that green pouch that he was hoping was money he could make off with, but with a quick peek inside he realizes was only some type of trail mix.

He’s tempted to pour it all down his throat, his hunger still going strong. He follows behind the woman, stumbling the slightest bit out of the village until they’re surrounded on both sides by towering trees and the rising moon.

“Alright, kid,” the name calling is really starting to irk him, “I guess ya hunted me down ‘cause ya wanted me to heal whatever’s going on with yer head? I don’t heal anymore, but I’ll make a bet with ya.” The lilting of her voice makes her sound sure of her victory.

Toji remembers the kanji written on the back of her haori and the implications of it before letting his mind mull over the rest of her sentence. He was beginning to assume she was someone like him with a heavenly restriction, but the many confusing variables he must consider such as the clashing of modern and ancient that village had going on and the fact that he hadn’t sensed any cursed energy or spirits anywhere made that hypothesis seem unlikely.

Instead he latches onto the healing part she mentioned. Maybe she has something like a reverse cursed technique.

“What do you have in mind, ma’am?”

“No need to act so submissive now! Simple arm wrestling between us will suffice. I win,” he feels the full intensity of her eyes as she stares at him, her voice losing its slur once again, “you leave me alone and don’t tell anyone you’ve seen me.”

“And if I win?” His smile is crooked and indulgent. All he can think is blessings, blessings, blessings.

“I’ll heal that headache thass got ya shakin’ like ya got new legs.”

Her exaggeration humors him, but if he laughs he might prove her right. “I just wanna say that I still have no idea who you are, and was truly just tryna con you for some food, but this migraine is more concerning.”

“Yeah, whatever, ya got my food in your hands right now so either way you’ll get something out of this.”

He remembers the bags she unwittingly made him carry around like he was her pack mule. “True.”

“Is it a bet or not?”

Toji’s a notoriously bad gambler, but he hopes that the drunk woman in front of him is one too.

He smiles wide. “It’s a bet.”

***

Not only did he lose the best, but Toji also lost his cool and questioned quite rudely how a big titty drunk could possibly be strong enough to beat him. The result was the woman’s entire face turning red as she marched up to him, raised her hand, and flicked him through a few trees.

Despite all that, she was still kind enough to heal his head, her method unclear to him as all she did was hover her hands over his temples and cursed him out thoroughly. As she was preparing to leave him there in a heap, he sat up quickly, rubbing the back of his head grumpily.

“Hey, uh, you wouldn’t happen to need an errand boy or something would you?”

He didn’t know why he was still barking up her tree when she so obviously was not interested in anything he had to say.

“Aht aht aht! I won our bet, so you’re supposed to leave me alone!”

“Look, I have no idea where I am, I’ve got nothing to my name. I just need someone who can help me get acclimated and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Don’t you mean you need someone to feed and clothe and house you like some stray?”

He couldn’t deny her words.

“I’m a talented man. Whatever you need me to do to pull my weight I’ll do.” He hated to sound like he was begging, but he felt a strange kinship with this woman and felt he’d have a better chance at staying alive with her. Even if she has alluded to being on the run. Or at least if he dies again, she definitely won’t try and bring him back to life.

She stares down at him where he’s still sprawled out beneath her nose, and he resolutely stares at her face only because if he stared at his other options, she’d probably slap him around some more without healing again. Knocking him around must have sobered her up. He laments; it’s much easier pulling on heartstrings when they're inebriated.

“Are you any good at gambling?”

“Sometimes.”

“How well can you hold your liquor?”

“Pretty good. Better than you probably.”

“Tsk. You’re not doing yourself any favors with that mouth of yours.”

The compulsion to say something lewd is strong, but Toji is stronger. “Sorry.”

“No you aren’t, you brat!” His answering smirk makes her grit her teeth. “Alright, fine! You can help me avoid the debt collectors or shinobi trying to hunt me down for whatever reason. You’re a strong guy so don’t die cause I won’t be healing you anymore. And if you make any big winnings, don't hoard it! Keep up and stay out of my hair!”

He stands up, standing closer to her with a cheeky expression. “Sounds doable, ma’am.”

She rolls her eyes and walks back towards the village. “Tsunade.”

“Toji. I’ve got to say, we sound like a match made in heaven.” He peers down at her retreating back as he keeps close.

“Maybe in my personal hell!”

His chuckling only makes her walk a bit faster.

***

The time spent with Shizune and Tsunade was the most stress free he’s ever felt despite being chased around by debt collectors every once and awhile. For the better part of a year, he stuck close to the two women like an overprotective guard dog, although if it came down to it, the old lady alone could kick his ass. And wasn’t that a shock when he found out she was over 55 years old. Almost as shocking as finding out that he was in some ridiculous world where magical, superpowered, fire breathing ninjas existed and went around starting turf wars on this shoe box of a continent. The gang banging ninjas weren’t much of a problem for them though as the old lady was a master of disguise using her magic or whatever she called it. She ducked and dodged every navy blue and green wearing person that got anywhere on her radar or vice versa.

And despite dogging her heels much longer than he anticipated, he hadn’t learned much about Tsunade. But on those nights where she drank a little too much or too little to bluster and front, he could tell that she was feeling pretty brittle inside. When that shadow makes its way across her eyes, he can hear bells tolling inside his own head covering up sweet sounding laughter and small surly faces. But despite her eroding edges, she never let them fall for anyone to catch them, she made them float away on warm winds and bar tops, on bronze and silver and gold and green.

Shizune, though, wasn’t made of the same stuff. She wore her heart on her sleeve even if it bled warm blood all over the place. Especially if she knew her warmth would reach Tsunade.

Everything he learned about this world, about Tsunade, he learned from Shizune. Whenever the old lady was able to give them the slip to be alone in her melancholy, the two would sit together, and he’d ask her simple questions which made for easy distractions. It wasn’t his intention. Really, he was trying to figure out the mechanics of the weird wizardry he would see and get an understanding of the law of the land. But the younger woman unfurled in his presence quite easily after a while. It was nothing romantic, and could barely be called familial, the shape of her face was reminiscent enough of the first woman to ever save him, and his gruffness was something she was fond of as it reminded her of her master. So when Tsunade was off hiding her sadness and Shizune and him were left alone, he would let her bleed over him until everything was painted in a passionate red to his eyes, and his bleeding organ couldn’t dare to claim to be dry.

Those were easy times indeed.

But then that thing happened with the blonde kid and old man and some creepy looking fucker that managed to make Tsunade go under a metamorphosis.

She’d managed to duck him during that fateful day and he figured she wouldn’t be getting up to too much trouble in broad daylight so Toji let her be. He could take a hint afterall. But from afar, he could see some huge animals duking it out and all he could think at that moment was that the old lady truly had rotten luck.

When he made it to their location, and he saw her covered in blood but smiling over that blonde haired idiot from some days ago, he thought for a second that all his thoughts came true before reality settled in for him. He figured that all her drifting parts might have come back to her while he wasn’t looking.

There are a lot of similarities between Toji and Tsunade. He envied that that wasn’t one of them. Blessings is ringing in his ears, much differently the they did back then

***

“So you’re going back to your village to run the joint?” They were the only two left up, either commiserating or celebrating, he isn’t sure. Their reasons to drink were flimsy as always.

“Seems as though,” she mumbles. “You’re welcome to come with. Become a shinobi or bum off me and Shizune until you die.”

“That sounds like the life,” he chuckled, easily accepting the offer.

“Are you sure though?”

Tsunade is looking inside the cup in her hand, but he feels her gaze prickling him all the same. It is different from how they usually operated but not unexpected. It’s easier to bullshit when you’re not the only one, when a pleasant veneer covers you both up until it’s impossible to take a peek at someone lest you want to be peeked on too. But someone brought the light down on Tsunade and she couldn’t help but to reflect it all around.

“Where else would I go?” He’d never told them where he came from. Shizune and Tsunade surmised that he was amnesiac and he let them. He still looked to be running from something all the same. Something intangible but with a grip so tight that those green and black eyes that haunt him felt like bruises that will never leave him alone.

“Ah. That’s true I suppose. Tch. When did I birth a thirty something year old man? Forget what I said about bumming about! You’ll earn your keep somehow, brat!”

“Of course, old lady. You birthed a talented, strong man.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that twitching eye of hers, she only looked away with crossed arms, a familiar and lovely sight.

“Toji.”

He stares at his own half empty cup now. Avoiding eyes that aren’t even looking at him and eyes that aren’t even really around. Ghost eyes, omniscient eyes, judging eyes.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what you’ve been seeing all this time when you look at me, but if it’s anything like what I see when I look at you…” The sip he takes of the sake feels heavy like blood on his tongue and just as easy to choke on. “then it’s like looking at something that will break if you touch it. That’ll cut and hurt and fly away.”

“You think I’m made of glass? Of feathers? So what?” It’s a genuine question, almost desperate despite the neutral way it's asked.

“This is a big enough world for us to fly away forever, but maybe for now, for a little while we should put it to rest. And mourn the blood we let spill.”

Those green and black bruises just hurt all over again, but they’re bruises and not wounds. Not even scabs. Though they hurt like knives, they were just as precious and unforgettable. He could run all he wanted but the knives would just follow him if he didn’t pull them out. The similarities between him and Tsunade are comforting. She is comforting. He needs that comfort if he’s gonna bleed. Blessings, blessed, my blessing.

All his bones are made of glass and feathers.

The weight is more bearable when those heavy knives are in the ground instead.

#title is from silhouette by kana boon #naruto #naruto shippuden #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #one shot #tsunade senju #tsunade #no romance #no pairing #indulgent #light angst #toji in the Naruto universe somehow #Naruto x jjk crossover #naruto crossover #jjk crossover

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