"Our team's going clubbing, with Thirteen from our last mission." Ryouma filtered through shirts, found two that might work, and tossed them to Kakashi. "I'd invite you, if we didn't need your shirt."

"I'd accept the invitation you're not offering," Hakone said courteously, "if I didn't plan to spend the night shunning social interaction." He sipped his beer.

Kakashi looked envious. He was investigating the seams of the shirts Ryouma had tossed him, probably looking for whether he could move and conceal weapons in them; he seemed dubious about both. "What was wrong with black, again?"

"You'd look like a ninja or a bartender's assistant," Hakone said. "Also, bloodstains will show up under black lights."

"You're thinking of something else," Kakashi grumbled, but he took the shirts and disappeared into the tiny bathroom.

"Try the black jeans," Hakone told Ryouma. "Thirteen… That's Abe and Kasumi's team. I take it you all came back alive."

"Not all." Ryouma turned, leaning against the edge of the closet wall. "They lost their veteran, Eizo." He hesitated.

In the war there'd been no time and too many to mourn. He'd lost Kenji from his genin team, and a week later he'd had his field promotion to chuunin and an assignment to the front lines. He'd gotten drunk for the first time, somewhere in there.

Things were different now. "You think it's too soon?"

"Maybe," Hakone said, imperturbably. "They'll decide." He took another drink of his beer. "Are you planning to hook up with any of them?"

"Um," Ryouma said, and turned in relief as Kakashi came out of the bathroom. "Hey, that looks good."

Kakashi'd chosen the looser of the two shirts, which was dark blue and faintly silky. His hair gleamed silver again, after almost a week of washing, and the exposed skin at his wrists shone clean and pearl-pale against the navy cuffs.

Hakone made a sound suspiciously like a smothered laugh. "You're not supposed to button it up that high."

Well, the mask meant they'd be missing out on the sight of Kakashi's collarbones anyway. Ryouma suggested, "Let me?"

Kakashi heaved an aggravated sigh, but lifted his chin obligingly, opening his throat. Ryouma flicked the top two buttons open, exposing nothing but skin-sleek black mask over the sharp jugular notch. The buttons on the wrist-cuffs were stiffer, less frequently used. He rolled the sleeves up to Kakashi's elbows and then stepped back, head tilted, to judge the effect.

Maybe he shouldn't have bared Kakashi's forearms.

He swallowed, and scooped up the jeans. "Try these."

Kakashi looked even more skeptical, but he took the jeans and retreated to the bathroom again.

Hakone looked at Ryouma, his brows raised. Ryouma looked at the wall.