Kakashi was still reserving judgement, but he liked what he’d seen of the one-eyed, no nonsense housekeeper so far. She seemed like she was actually capable of keeping up with Naruto, for starters. She made me a Captain Seaweed bento, niisan!

“If you spring me, I’ll come around tonight,” he said, giving Minato a hopeful look.

Minato returned it with narrow-eyed assessment. “How far can you walk?”

“Made it to the bathroom this morning without falling down,” Kakashi said. “Brushed my own teeth and everything.”

Minato glanced over at the bathroom door, less than fifteen feet away, and patted Kakashi’s blanketed foot kindly. “Maybe tomorrow. Ogata-san will want time to shop. And Naruto’ll want you fit enough for wrestling.”

If Kakashi got pinned by a three-and-a-half year old, he’d never live it down. Especially since Naruto would accuse him of throwing the fight, and it wouldn’t be true.

He sighed. “Fine. But definitely tomorrow.”

“Naruto and I will come by and spring you by 1700,” Minato promised. He gave Kakashi’s foot a final pat and pushed himself up. “We’ll hum a theme song and everything.”

Kakashi snorted again, but relief trickled through his chest. Freedom soon. “Sleep tonight,” he told Minato sternly. “More than four hours.”

Minato paused with his hand on the door. “Bossy as ever,” he said, but his voice was fond. “I’ll do my best, Kakashi-kun.”

Which meant he’d still be awake at 4am, drafting policy and reading meeting notes, worrying over the thousands of lives under his care and borders that felt far too fragile.

There were some days that Kakashi really wanted to throttle Kushina for dying tragically, heroically, and most of all, permanently — she was the only one who’d ever made Minato stop.

The door slid closed.

A few moments later, Minato’s swirling chakra faded from the edge of Kakashi’s returning senses, leaving the world quieter and duller. The traces of his scent lingered a while, tangled with Ryouma’s and Kurenai’s, but eventually those faded too.

Kakashi lay back, staring up at the ceiling, and thought of Kurenai’s delicately controlled anger, Ryouma’s slow progress back to solid ground, and Minato’s tired eyes. He thought about Katsuko, not here, and Genma, still healing. He thought about the captain, and whether that report might help.

He thought, I need to get better.