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The Last of the Wine [Dec. 16th, 2017|07:50 pm]
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[tousaki_ryouma]
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[User Picture]From: [info]hatake_kakashi
2017-12-17 03:09 am (UTC)

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It was the same woman Kakashi had seen in the photograph at Nomiya’s house. She looked about Minato’s age, fine-featured. Her hair was deep raven black, bone-straight and loose down her back. Her skin had been pale in the picture, sun-starved; her nose was sunburned now, and her cheeks had freckles. She was barefoot, wearing truncated trousers and a linen wrap-shirt. Dirt smeared her knuckles, as if she’d been gardening.

Behind her legs, two small children peered nervously around. The older, a girl, clearly took after her father — she had his nose, his mouth, and if she grew into her feet, she’d have his height one day. The boy, at least a few years younger, looked like his mother. A scar curved down the girl’s cheek, recently healed and still pink.

There was Harubi’s reason for leaving, Kakashi guessed.

“No, you didn’t ask for that,” Himself said to her. “These humans — do you recognize them?”

Harubi’s eyes flickered along the line from Ryouma to Raidou, pausing briefly at Kurenai. “They look like shinobi,” she said. “Konoha. You’re here for the Fire Daimyou’s sake, aren’t you?”

A disturbed ripple went through the tanuki.

“Originally,” Raidou said. “We’ve been reevaluating our priorities.”

From Kakashi’s shoulder, Pakkun piped up. “You sure you don’t want him dead? We do very reasonable rates. Half a ryou would cover it, and we’ll take an IOU.”

Kakashi reached up and closed a hand over the pug’s muzzle.

“I’ve thought about it,” Harubi said. “But I’m not a murderer, and he doesn’t get to make me one.”

Some lives aren’t worth burdening yourself with. Ryouma was silent and tense at Kakashi’s side. Kakashi released the knife under his shirt, and, without stopping to think about it, wrapped his hand around the back of Ryouma’s neck. The muscles were like iron.

Ryouma glanced at him. His eyes raked over Kakashi's face like he could see something in it, or wanted to, and Kakashi wondered if he was remembering that conversation, too. Ryouma's jaw firmed. He gave a short nod, and turned back to Harubi. “How d’you feel about relocating him?”

Harubi studied them for a long moment. “We could talk,” she said.

The threatening edges of Himself’s balls settled back down, returning to a placid futon shape. “In that case, we need sake,” he said. “And food.”

The youngest tanuki cheered, throwing their paws — and in a few cases, each other — up in the air. The older tanuki looked variously satisfied, dubious, or relieved. One of the older females patted the back of Harubi’s hand with her paw. The other tweaked the little boy’s ear, producing a piece of fruit from behind it, which made him smile shyly. The girl watched Team Six with hard suspicion that gave Kakashi a twinge of fellow-feeling.

Genma sank back from his kneeling bow, relaxing his hands. Knuckles gone ashen-grey turned briefly red in the backwash of circulation, then faded to their normal color. He gave a tiny, controlled sigh — which quickly became a yelp when two small tanuki scrambled across the platform and tackled him in the ribs. Alarmed, Raidou made a grab for them, but Genma warded him off, mouth curving.

Kurenai relaxed back into movement, and leaned wearily against Raidou’s shoulder. After a moment, very carefully, she reached out and touched the smallest girl tanuki between the ears, and won herself a lapful of fluff and pelting questions. Yori vented a sigh, but stayed in his self-appointed position at her back.

“So that’s it?” Pakkun rumbled in Kakashi’s ear. “We’re all friends now?”

“You don’t have to drink,” Kakashi said.

“I didn’t say that.”

“So,” said Raidou, to Himself. “About the Daimyou’s sake.”