i like to pretend that you didn't mean as much to me as you did. but deep down, i know the truth. when i write, it's about you. i may lie to myself and say it isn't, but it always is. it's always been about you.
He's a failure.
He failed at saving his friend. He failed at saving his student, he failed at getting the heart of the only woman he actually loves. And he failed at fulfilling a prophecy, something meant to be written on stone.
Did he ever succeed at anything?
— trying to forget your biggest failures and mistakes with alcohol? Maybe not, but he had no reason not to.
A hermit told him of a prophecy, that he would meet someone and take them as a student.
He did. And two years ago, he heard of his student's death.
His eyelids close. The women have already left without him noticing. Now there is no one by his side. He was too distracted, daydreaming.
Another sigh, now not one born out of peace, but rather, sorrow.
Is this really all there is to life? Drinking your problems away —
The woman in his head is different.
She hits him, she insults him, she rejects his every advance. So why is he so compelled? Drawn to her like a magnet. Why, even when surrounded by a good drink and beautiful women willing to entertain his shenanigans, does he think of her?
So why does he feel empty? Why is the image of that woman still clinging to his head? It does not go away no matter how much he tries to shove it off. He tries to distract himself with smooth talk, but whenever he loses concentration, the image comes back.
None of them are truly entertained. They feign. A happy client is a client willing to spend.
More time flies by; most of the women left, now there are only two.
He hears footsteps. Probably two bodyguards who will insist he pays.
But so far, so good.
More minutes pass, he is surrounded by women, all work there. Waiters. They cling to him... but their touches are cold. There is no warmth.
「And then I said "huh?! You don't know the mighty Jiraiya?!」
He was obnoxiously loud. His voice echoes through the entire room.
be presented an inflated bill.
So why is he walking in?
Minutes later, there he is, bringing sake to his lips, letting the beverage satiate his thirst.
「Haaah!」
A relieved sigh. His cheeks red, the alcohol already flowing in his bloodstream.
"Psst, old man, why don't you buy me a drink?"
A voice calls out to him. It's a woman, she stands in front of a shop.
It's a scam. Years of experience pick up on it. In this sort of place customers would be invited inside, buy a few drinks, and by the end of it —
...
Making his way through the city, the man's head is not held high with pride. His visage is facing the soil, a stern, harsh countenance graces his features.
I wonder if you are here, Tsu-
His thoughts are interrupted, the name left unpronounced in his head.