| Take a Number | [Sep. 6th, 2013|10:59 pm] |
[Takes place Yondaime Year 5, April 19th, immediately following Take the Mask.]
Kakashi hadn’t seen Rin since the night before the first Trial, when she’d wished him luck, told him to make friends—“Just try.”—and kissed him on the cheek, which she only did when she was worried.
He’d missed her at the hospital after the second Trial, or she’d missed him. She’d been in surgery, he’d found out later, patching up someone’s near-fatal disaster. She’d tried to visit him at home, but he’d been asleep, and she’d been exhausted, which was sort of how it always went lately.
She’d left him a folded origami crane on the counter, resting on top of a new set of shining kunai, a fresh pair of combat gloves, and a medical kit. When he’d unfolded the crane, he’d found a message: YOUR SHELVES ARE EMPTY AGAIN, GO SHOPPING, HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE.
Which was—sweet?
It was Rin, anyway.
He should have made a better effort to search her out before the third Trial, but there was training, and extra duties with the threat of Orochimaru, and—
He hadn’t gone, and she hadn’t visited again.
Now, though, he desperately needed a friendly shoulder to lean on and plot murder with. He wound his way out of ANBU’s treacherous maze, stopped at his old apartment just long enough to lock his ANBU armor and new mask in the weapons trunk, change clothes, and wash his face, then he made tracks for the hospital. He could move to the ANBU barracks later.
For the first time in memory, Rin was actually at her office desk.
He paused at the half-open door, taking a moment before she noticed him. She was paler than the last time he’d seen her, tired-looking, purple clan tattoos dark against her cheeks. Her thick brown braid hung over one shoulder, tendrils slipping free from their ties; she fiddled absentmindedly with it. Her lower lip was chapped, stained slightly blue by the pen she was chewing on. Normally, she wore the standard medic’s uniform, but today she was dressed in a plain black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, leggings, and shinobi sandals—which suggested a frantic morning dash to the hospital, or someone had thrown up on her again.
Despite that, she was smiling faintly at the report she was writing.
At least someone’d had a good morning.
Kakashi let his foot scuff the floor as he pushed the door open. “I need help vanishing a body,” he said. |
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