“I knew you would,” Genma said. “Everyone likes this game.”

There was an adage about friendships forged in foxholes that Genma couldn’t remember the exact wording to, but by the looks of it, the magic was at work for Team Six. In the time it had taken for Kakashi to play his turn, he’d changed his tune from “I hate this game” to “I like this game”, and more importantly, he looked almost happy. Comfortable, out of pain, and relaxed—all of which could be attributed to morphine and medical senbon, but Genma didn’t think that was the only factor. For the first time since the team had formed, it seemed like Kakashi trusted his teammates enough to let his guard down.

Katsuko was grinning to herself as she continued to tweak the pigtails she’d created in Kakashi’s hair, adjusting them towards some vision of symmetry only she could see. The nervous anxiety she’d greeted them with when they’d arrived at the bunker was all but gone—unsurprising in a veteran that she’d found her equilibrium fairly quickly, but still very welcome. Ryouma, who’d worried Genma the most, seemed mellower and more relaxed. He was leaning back braced on straight arms, with Kakashi’s feet casually resting across his folded thighs, and there was only a hint of tension at the corners of his eyes.

Only Raidou still looked strained and tired. The weight of command combined with a post-concussion headache was probably more than enough to account for that. Genma made a mental note to remember to check Raidou’s head injury again as soon as the game was done. And make sure the prisoner was stable. And inventory his medical supplies to be sure he hadn’t missed anything. And…

They were all looking at him.

“It’s my turn?”

Kakashi plucked a bit of blanket lint and tossed it at Genma. “Yes,” he said. “You have to do good lies, too. No cop-out little ones that just change a date or something. And nothing about the bakery. We know about the bakery.” His preemptive scorn was almost endearing.

“You don’t know everything about—” Genma started.

“Or about Aoba,” Kakashi continued, imperious as a daimyou. “I don't care about him.”

Genma choked.

“Aoba?” Raidou asked, genuinely puzzled.

“He polices the lieutenant's mail,” Kakashi said, like he was pronouncing judgment on high treason.

“Hatake met my temporary roommate the other night,” Genma explained. “Yamashiro Aoba. He’s a good guy, but he can be kind of an ass if he thinks he’s protecting me.”

“Protecting you from Kakashi?” Ryouma asked skeptically. “What, did he think Kakashi was hunting for revenge after one too many laps around the training field? Or was it more like Genma-kun is too young and innocent for your scandalous love letters, begone you ruffian?”

Raidou snorted a laugh, Katsuko cackled, Genma choked a little more, and Ryouma looked like the cat who licked the cream.

Kakashi was evidently still playing catch up; once he’d processed through everything he scowled quizzically at Ryouma. “Love letters?”

“Aoba was just messing with you,” Genma said, waving away Ryouma’s suggestion. “And trying to make sure my rookies weren’t bringing me unnecessary problems when I was just out of the hospital.” He shrugged. “You weren’t, so don’t worry, he forgave you.”

Kakashi looked slightly mollified—Genma’d have to tell Aoba about this when he got back—and Ryouma heaved a theatrical sigh, evidently disappointed at the lack of juicy backstory.

“You watch a lot of romances, Tousaki?” Genma asked.

Ryouma shrugged. “All the best historical dramas have a romance or three at the core. C'mon, lieutenant, tell us yours.”

“My romances?”

“Your lie— truth— things,” Kakashi said from his muffler of blankets.