He was still the first one back out. Dried and dressed, with his dirty clothes sealed away, a fresh mask, and the recent jutsu success (well, mostly success), he felt almost sprightly. The grizzled shinobi was gone. The kunoichi had also left, though not before getting several recommendations. Kakashi took advantage of the relative peace to stretch out on a bench and enjoy a moment with Icha Icha while he waited for his teammates.

He was just reaching the part where the Fujiwara and Tachibana clans declared their intent to go to war over the love affair between their oldest daughters, when someone cleared their throat above him.

Someone soundless, scentless, and without obvious chakra signature.

Kakashi lowered his book an inch, and found himself looking up the unpleasant side of Kuroda’s nose.

“I see you’ve found a useful way to spend your time, Hatake,” Kuroda said crisply.

Something hit the floor in Ryouma’s shower stall. Genma’s shower cut off.

Kakashi debated raising his book again, on the off chance it might offend Kuroda enough to make him leave, but that had yet to be a viable tactic with any commander.

“Vice-commander,” he said, as neutrally as possible.

The door to Genma’s shower stall opened and Genma stepped out, looking as serene and self-possessed as a man could with wet hair and a towel hastily knotted around his hips. He’d developed a habit, in the past few weeks, of inserting himself in between Kakashi and Kuroda whenever the latter appeared, preferably before Kakashi could say more than a sentence. It was a winning strategy, insofar as no one had been maimed or court-martialed yet.

Ryouma’s stall door remained firmly closed.

“Kuroda-taichou,” Genma said. “Were you looking for one of us, sir?”

Kuroda gave Icha Icha a final look of distaste, then turned the exact same look on Genma. “We have a mission. The team will be ready to leave tonight from the Monument at 2200. Pack for Kirigakure’s climate.”

With that, the vice-commander turned on one heel and strode toward the door.

Genma visibly processed several fierce emotions in about a quarter of a second, then asked with glassy calm: “Are mission briefing materials in the team’s office, sir, or should I get them from the mission office?”

“Do as you like,” Kuroda answered. “Just don’t be late.”

The door closed with a snap behind him.

Genma let out a quiet breath that, on another man, would have been a blistered curse. Ryouma’s shower stall banged open and he tumbled out, water-slick and grabbing his towel only as an afterthought. The shower still ran behind him. He skidded to a stop by Kakashi’s bench, and his recently healed knee stayed firm under him.

“They’re sending us to Kiri?” He turned sharp anxiety on Genma. “What about Taichou?”

Genma held up a hand. “Let’s get dressed. You two can get us something to eat from the cafeteria while I get the mission materials. We won’t know anything until we’ve read them.” He turned back to collect his things from the shower stall with a muttered, “No thanks to the vice-commander.”