| [Apr. 8th, 2017|11:24 pm] |
Kakashi was drunker than he’d meant to get — that red drink was lethal — but it was okay. The night was summer-warm and he had his team. Everyone but Katsuko, and she’d volunteered to leave, so she didn’t get night club fun. Served her right.
Also, Ginta had left. That improved things.
He was a little sad Kurenai had gone too, but it was probably better that she’d left while they were still on good terms.
They seemed to be in an alleyway.
Kakashi blinked and took stock. It was the back end of Willow Street, where Konoha’s slender nightlife gave way to the first residential neighborhoods. Weeping white bellflowers trailed over someone’s garden wall; they smelled like the end of spring.
“The lieutenant lives near here,” Kakashi said.
Ryouma interrupted the soft rock-song he’d been humming to inform Kakashi, in a voice that was probably meant to be quiet, “We’re taking him home. You can tell the bedtime story.”
Genma, walking ahead of them with Raidou, glanced back with a smile. “I get a story?”
“Only if you’re three,” Kakashi said, elbowing Ryouma in the ribs. He’d told Ryouma a story once, under special post-surgery circumstances.
“I’m three times seven,” Genma said. “Can I get seven stories?”
“No,” Kakashi said. He thought a moment. “If you need seven stories to get to sleep, someone’s telling them wrong.”
Ryouma laughed, a fond, rasping sound, and dropped an arm around Kakashi’s shoulders, like he’d done in the club. “So judgey,” he said.
Genma shook his head. “You’re not supposed to fall asleep during the stories.”
Kakashi glanced at Ryouma. The overshirt still hung from Ryouma’s back pocket; he was a sleek weight of muscle and mesh against Kakashi’s side, alcohol-warm and relaxed. It struck a sense-memory: falling asleep in Arachi Hill Safehouse, Ryouma like a shield on one side, Katsuko like a blade on the other. Safety, despite the danger.
Carefully, Kakashi lifted his hand and let it rest against the small of Ryouma’s back. Ryouma didn’t startle; he made a soft, contented sound and leaned on Kakashi. That felt right.
Kakashi awarded himself five points for successful… something.
“You’re wrong,” he told Genma. “And you don’t even know you’re wrong, which makes you more wrong. No stories for you.”
There were a couple ticks of silence. Genma sighed heavily and leaned against Raidou. “Sometimes I almost think I understand him, but then I don’t.”
Raidou chuckled. “That’s how he gets you.”
Poor officers. Even when Kakashi explained it all in short words, they couldn’t keep up. But that was okay, too. They made up for it in other ways.
The apartment complex Genma lived in (with Aoba) was at the top of a long hill, surrounded by other cheap, rebuilt complexes. As a group, most young, non-clan ninja were too busy to be house proud, but a few had made an effort. There were windows with flower boxes. Quasi-tasteful curtains. And Genma’s next door neighbor had a dog.
There was a conversation happening in the background. A key turning a lock. The click of a hallway light. Kakashi stopped paying attention somewhere around Raidou’s awkward silence, because he was busy hanging through an open window to commune with the sweet, fat golden Akita who wanted her ears scratched. |
|