Jiraiya raised an eyebrow in the direction of the soiled clothing, and then at Trowa, who wasn't paying attention to him. 'Do I look like a mother? Jiraiya inwardly grumbled as he picked them up by a dry corner, "I'm a shinobi of Legendary stature! I am not designed to be washing kid's clothes.'</i> dropped them in the nearest empty sink basin and ran warm water over them. He added a dollop of soap for good measure and let them sit there for the moment.
Jiraiya remembered why he'd been over here in the first place: he was thirsty. He could swear he tasted old blood and that didn't bring memories that were good by any stretch of the imagination. He settled for a glass of water followed by a swig from the closest bottle of mixer juice. Jiraiya didn't really like coconut. 'Guy needs to label his stuff more clearly' He drank another glass of water.