| [Feb. 7th, 2015|06:44 am] |
Kakashi added, mouth quirking, “Two missions aren’t statistically significant, either. We’d have to fall over at least twice more before you could count it against us.”
Minato’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Let’s try to keep it from coming to that. We’re running low on able-bodied shinobi as it is, these days.”
“Lower, now that our captain’s been suspended,” Kakashi said pointedly.
Ryouma gave a startled blink, and then threw him a look of tense gratitude. Any lingering humor stripped right out of Minato’s expression.
“I’m aware,” he said, glancing at Ryouma, and then back to Kakashi. He didn’t ask Ryouma to leave. “It’s not ideal for anyone involved. I won’t be engaging in that debate with you until the investigation is done and we have all the facts at hand.” He relented just enough to allow, “Which will be soon, I hope.”
When Minato didn’t want to be moved, he was more unyielding than the Hokage’s mountain. But there was a crack there, splintered between Minato’s fondness for Kakashi and his deep, unwavering pride in his personal soldiers. Minato loved the village, whole and entire, but he’d always carried a special soft spot for underdogs.
He’d been one, once.
Kakashi said, "Don't let the council sell out Namiashi-taichou because repairs are expensive. We can do more missions. It's harder to get more captains."
“Thank you for your counsel,” Minato said, bone-dry. “I can see you’ve been very well briefed on our financial and personnel situations.” He dropped his hand to the chair arm, and tapped his fingers rhythmically just once. “Rest assured, I don’t sell Konoha’s blood lightly.”
But he still would, if he had to.
Kakashi had shot his arrow. He dropped his chin, nodding once, and said, “So why are you dodging the council?”
Minato groaned, slouching back into his chair. “Not you, too. I had a formal dinner yesterday evening to entertain ambassadors from Grass and Rain. Half the Council was there, and most of them tried to buttonhole me afterward to talk over their pet projects. They were just going to spend today’s meeting rehashing everything all over again. I slept four hours last night. Can’t I spare an hour to welcome my student back from the jaws of death?”
Kakashi thought, oh.
Seeing underneath the underneath was only useful when there was an ulterior motive. It tended to trip him flat when Minato was sincere — which was often.
In retrospect, Kakashi thought, he should've learned better by now.
Still rigid against the wall, Ryouma looked sympathetic, more than a little dismayed, and highly uncomfortable. Hero worship didn’t leave much room for a glorious Hokage who got tired and cranky, and actually complained behind closed doors.
“It was really more like the dentures of death,” Kakashi said. “Or one tooth of death. Very survivable death.” He pulled his legs up again, clearing room at the foot of the bed. “Want to sit somewhere more comfortable? Tousaki was, before you made him jump like a cat.”
Minato chuckled wearily. “You sound like Naruto. He asked me yesterday what would happen if we lived in a banana with no chimney. Tousaki, you don’t mind if I take your spot?”
“I don’t, uh— No, sure, go ahead, Hokage-sama.” Ryouma cast a quick, sideways glance at Kakashi. “I should probably be heading out, anyway. Lieutenant left me with a laundry list of errands. Including laundry.”
Kakashi couldn’t resist. “Sure you don’t want to stay?”
The look Ryouma gave him would have poisoned a lesser man. “Have fun with your logbooks. Uh, if you’ll excuse me, Hokage-sama…” Ryouma saluted crisply, and managed an interesting sort of sidle-march to get out of the room without turning his back on Minato. The door clicked closed, very quietly.
Minato waited two full beats, and said, “That wasn’t nice.” |
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