| [Nov. 19th, 2011|06:49 am] |
Graduated at any age, it seemed like no one was ready.
Kakashi eased himself onto his back, careful not to let Ryouma’s head jar. Ryouma shifted down further, resting his cheek on the flat of Kakashi’s chest, one arm slung over Kakashi’s ribs. His skin felt overly warm, hair still sweat-slick. Given the day he’d had, it wasn’t surprising if he’d managed to pick up a low-grade fever. Kakashi cupped his palm around Ryouma’s forehead and whispered chakra through the skin, calling on water instead of lightning for once. Cooling things down.
Ryouma sighed softly.
“You weren’t friends with your genin team,” Kakashi said, low-voiced.
“No,” said Ryouma, with an edge to his voice that made Kakashi suspect he was pulling a face. "They were two years younger, and I was a gutter-born brat off the street who never should've been let into the Academy at all." That sounded like a direct quote. Kakashi ground his back teeth, listening as Ryouma continued: "Shouri built herself up a little adolescent crush, once, but when I wouldn't get her pregnant she lost that pretty quick. I had a couple of friends from Canal Street who followed me into the Academy, but they died before the war ended." His fingers tapped a slow, thoughtful rhythm on Kakashi’s ribcage, resting directly above the three parallel scars he’d once found so fascinating. "If you count that time we met with Hitomi and Minato-sensei, you're my oldest living friend."
They both knew Kakashi had no living friends. He hadn’t spoken to Ginta in six months.
“I think,” Kakashi said carefully, “that’s the most depressing thing either one of us has said today.”
Ryouma’s startled laugh was like gravel and bass. “Oh, c’mon. You were talking about going missing-nin.”
“I stand by my point,” Kakashi said. “I’m a lousy friend. And I think you knocked me out the first time we met.”
"I'm pretty sure you knocked yourself out. Chakra exhaustion. Though I think I did sit on you." Ryouma flattened his hand against Kakashi’s ribcage, a smile bleeding warm through his voice. "We were both brats, weren't we?"
“It’s amazing they ever let us live,” Kakashi agreed, mouth curving despite himself. “You never said what happened to Hitomi-sensei.”
"She's still around,” Ryouma said. “Hasn't taken another genin team, so far as I know—we probably put her off kids for life. I met her for lunch the day after I joined ANBU. She told me congrats and that I still didn't have a chance."
At ANBU—or at her? Ryouma’s crush on his sensei had been a mile wide and obvious even to Kakashi, who’d been half blind, cripplingly exhausted, and completely uninterested. The only time Ryouma had taken his eyes off Hitomi was the brief moment when Minato had complimented his jutsu, and then he’d glowed.
"We should go see her, sometime,” Ryouma said, quiet and thoughtful.
Kakashi’s hand stuttered. “We?”
Ryouma’s head tipped back, very carefully, until he could meet Kakashi’s eye. “Not if you don’t want to. But she probably wouldn’t believe me otherwise, if I told her I actually made good.” He hesitated, words coming more uncertainly. “You’d probably like her, anyway. You could bond over insulting me.”
“Pretty sure I said I’d bite anyone who insulted you,” Kakashi murmured. “Former teachers probably get a free pass, though.” He caught his tongue between sharp teeth, trying to navigate complicated ground. Ryouma said made good like he’d caught a prize, but Kakashi remembered Hitomi — remembered insulting Hitomi — and she’d been everything a pure-blooded Hyuuga was supposed to be. Proud, reserved, stern. Not the kind of woman who’d look kindly on stolen-gifted bloodlines, or a male partner for her only worthwhile student.
“I don’t think she’d want to meet me,” he said at last. |
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