"Ah!"
Jiraiya sat up from the bed with a headache as if he had been run over by a carriage.
The sun shone in through the cracks in the window. He squinted his eyes and his throat was so dry that it hurt.
What happened last night was like a fragment of Scroll.
The lights of the izakaya, the shaking wine cups, and... a white back.
Slender and thin, like an ungraspable moonlight in the dark night.
He drunkenly thought at that time, what a pity, it would be better if it were fuller.
While he was recalling randomly, a plain white hand handed Ceramic Bowl to him.
In the bowl is a dark hangover soup with soothing steam.
"Thank you."
He thanked him vaguely, took it and drank it in one gulp.
The warm liquid slid across the throat, bringing with it the warmth of Kudzu Root and Ginger, dispersing some of the chaos.
But then, the chaos was replaced by another stronger emotion.
That is alertness.
The smell in this room is wrong.
Although I have lived at home for a few days, because no one has lived in it for a long time, the house still smells slightly dusty and old Scroll.
And now.
There is a very faint cold fragrance in the air, like the plum blossoms in the early winter morning, mixed with a hint of faint fragrance.
He turned his head suddenly.
A woman with white clothes and black hair was sitting on the low stool next to his bed.
She was wearing a plain Kimono, with silver snake-eye patterns embroidered on the cuffs and placket, which was almost imperceptible.
Long Hair hangs down like ink, making the skin look pale but smooth and delicate.
When the eyebrows are lowered, it shows a kind of classical gentleness, dignity and alienation.
Jiraiya's pupils suddenly contracted.
This face... that moonlit back last night!
"You... who are you?"
He opened his mouth, his hungover brain was filled with lead, but he was frightened by the sight in front of him and was spinning rapidly.
"Why are you at my house?"
The voice was hoarse, full of surprise and vigilance.
The woman raised her eyes to look at him, her Golden vertical pupils glowing coldly in the morning light, and her gentle illusion was instantly shattered.
She sneered, and the corners of her mouth curved into a mocking arc.
"You guy."
Her voice was slightly lower, with a unique, smooth texture, like a snake sliding across dead leaves.
"Don't you recognize me?"
Jiraiya's face was even more confused.
Do you know her? If she knew a woman with such an appearance and temperament, how could he not have any impression of her at all?
It can't be Orochimaru, right?
He desperately searched Scroll in his memory, but there was only a blank.
Until--
The woman stuck out her tongue. It was not a tongue that ordinary people should have. It was slender and flexible, and slowly slid across her pale lips, leaving a little moist sheen.
A cold, strange, and frighteningly familiar scene cruelly overlapped with the gentle face in front of me.
All the drunkenness and confusion were blown to pieces at this moment.
Is it really Orochimaru?
Jiraiya, as if being hit by Lightning Release, jumped up from the bed, took a step back and hit the wall, knocking over the empty bowl.
Ceramic Bowl landed on the ground with a clear and harsh cracking sound.
Jiraiya pointed at Orochimaru, his fingers trembling slightly, and his voice changed with extreme horror and absurdity:
"Are you Dada...Orochimaru?"
"How did you become a woman?"
Orochimaru chuckled.
"Is it weird?"
"Isn't this strange!"
"Tsk, you are still like this. You clearly don't understand others at all, but you always wanted to use your own way to block others."
Orochimaru let out a light tut and stood up.
Jiraiya was choked and speechless for a moment, but Orochimaru obviously had no intention of continuing this topic.
She turned around and walked towards the door.
"Okay, let's chat later.
Tsunade found me last night, and we planned to have a chat with you..."
She glanced back at Jiraiya, with the usual mockery in her eyes.
"In the end, I only got a drunken trouble.
Come with me, it's really time for us old friends to talk to each other."
"Oh... oh."
Jiraiya responded subconsciously and looked down at himself.
The wrinkled Red Eyes gown and tea-green lining were as expected from yesterday, and there was even a faint smell of alcohol.
He was too lazy to change, so he just put on the Geta beside the bed and followed Orochimaru out of the house.
The cool air outside refreshed his spirit and diluted some of his sense of absurdity.
Out of habit, he took two quick steps and stretched out his left arm very naturally, wrapping his arms around Orochimaru's neck like he had done countless times in the past.
What the arm touches is no longer the thin and hard shoulder bones in the memory, but the thin and round lines of women that can be felt through the soft fabric.
A very light cold fragrance penetrated into the nostrils. It was not the fragrance of flowers or powder, but more like the smell of some kind of medicinal herbs mixed with ice and snow. It was refreshing and subtle.
Jiraiya's movements froze, but he had already put his arm up, and now that he was taking it off, it felt more like he felt guilty.
He turned his head, the tip of his nose almost touching the black hair beside Orochimaru's ear, and blurted out with full of new doubts. "Hey, Orochimaru... are you wearing perfume?"
You smell so good. Also, with your body... why do you feel so girly?"
Orochimaru did not throw away his arm immediately, but paused slightly.
She turned her face sideways, and Golden's pupils were like cold glass at close range, which clearly reflected Jiraiya's face that was close at hand with "Stupid Question" written on it.
"Idiot Jiraiya."
Her voice was calm and calm, but it pierced Jiraiya's dullness like a fine needle.
"My current body is a female body."
She pulled away slightly and let Jiraiya's arm slide down naturally.
"As for perfume? I have no interest in that kind of thing."
"Um..."
Jiraiya scratched his head and followed him awkwardly.
"Sorry."
"Oh, what's there to apologize for?"
Orochimaru walked leisurely.
"Jiraiya, why did you suddenly become so stubborn?"
"It's not so much a twist."
Jiraiya frowned, trying to sort out his messed up thoughts.
"It would be more appropriate to say shocked. After all..."
He looked up and down at Orochimaru's new, feminine contours, and it still felt extremely weird.
"After all, you suddenly... became a woman."
His eyes subconsciously followed the slight swing of Kimono's hem as Orochimaru walked. The posture was indeed completely different from the past.
But gradually, that bit of shock and awkwardness was covered by something heavier and colder.
Jiraiya's eyes sharpened, and the chaos of the hangover was completely dispelled.
He stopped, lowered his voice, and asked an unavoidable question, "Hey, Orochimaru. You guy... could you have used some kind of Forbidden Jutsu to invade the body of an innocent person?"
The air seemed to be stagnant for a moment.
"I've let you down, or... I've let your boring sense of justice go away for the time being."
The tongue swept across the corner of the mouth again, with a hint of almost showing off.
"This new body is the product of me and Second.
Cloning Technology, a little Biological Art.
Although the preparation was hasty, the performance of Vessel as a transitional one is quite good."