Ryouma brightened. “Does it have the same character as mine?”

“Mm-hm,” Genma said, sounding a little sea-sick himself.

“How do you write yours, Taichou?” Ryouma asked.

“‘Following blindly’,” Raidou said dryly.

Ryouma digested that. “Maybe your parents picked it ‘cause it sounded pretty.” He tilted his head towards Kakashi. “What about you?”

“‘Scarecrow’,” said Kakashi, sounding resigned. “Hatake means ‘farmland’.”

Genma, who, like Raidou, had already seen Kakashi’s name written down and snickered in private, nevertheless laughed softly. “Yours must’ve named you for your hair.”

Ryouma reached out and touched Kakashi’s fluffy-dry hair, gently ruffling the brown-streaked spikes. “When does the dye come out?”

Kakashi, clearly expecting mockery, blinked. “The bottle said twelve washes.”

“Maybe we can stop at that onsen on the way home, hurry it up.” Ryouma turned piteous, soulful eyes on Raidou.

Raidou snorted. “Are you trying to guilt me with Hatake’s hair?”

“Is it working?” Ryouma asked.

Raidou thought of hot water, hand-delivered food, clean yukata, and a pillowy futon. “Maybe.”

Genma murmured sleepily, “It’s grilled sweetfish season. And apricots.”

Now even Kakashi looked hopeful.

With Kuroda leading, Raidou suspected the chance of a side-trip was exactly zero, but he said, “I’ll try.”

Ryouma smiled and leaned his head against Genma’s, black hair a shadowed contrast against light gold-brown, both of them half-lidded and boneless now the crisis had faded. Their cabin was upstairs, with their bedrolls and other abandoned gear, but Raidou was loathe to make anyone move. Especially not before Kurenai sounded the all-clear.

A brief disruption of air on his right revealed an empty space where, moments before, Kakashi had been. Ryouma glanced up and frowned. Raidou thumped his head back against the casks and thought several unrepeatable words, resolving to have words — again — with Kakashi about that particular trick—

Air shifted again.

Blankets dropped on Genma and Ryouma, making them both twitch. Another landed on Raidou’s head. When he yanked it off and gave the room a wild look, Kakashi had settled back at Ryouma’s side, stretched out comfortably on his own blanket, with an arm folded beneath his head. His hair just brushed Ryouma’s leg. He reminded Raidou of a self-satisfied wolf, set just enough apart to remind people he wasn’t tame.

His mind-reading habit was also getting spooky. Raidou was going to start watching himself for tells.

“Thanks, Hatake,” he said anyway, on the principle that almost-good-manners should be encouraged. Kakashi shrugged one shoulder.

Ryouma and Genma had rearranged the blankets between them, both of them slouching in a way that was probably going to end in stiff necks. An ache pinched in Raidou’s chest, fond and protective and gently aggravated all at once. He sat up, making them slide and complain, and kept them awake long enough to lie down like people who actually wanted to get more than ten minutes of sleep. Ryouma’s feet ended up jammed under Kakashi’s knee, and his head on Genma’s ribcage. Genma tucked against Raidou’s side, trapping Raidou’s right arm against the floor.

They were out in moments.

Raidou kept himself awake longer, while the lantern swung and the storm howled outside, occasionally slapping a handful of chakra down to keep them all from tumbling. Once, when he looked up, he saw Kakashi’s grey eye gleaming in the dark, and one pale hand wrapped over Ryouma’s shin, threading chakra through it.

Sometime before dawn, the storm blew itself out, and Raidou let himself relax, drift, and finally fall into sleep as the Look Far carried them home.