| [Apr. 8th, 2017|10:02 pm] |
Kakashi nodded and followed Ryouma upstairs.
He’d been in clubs outside the village before. They were an easy place to assassinate someone. Until now, though, he’d managed to avoid Konoha’s late night scene.
It was everything he’d expected. A bassline like a sledgehammer, a tangle of scents half-choked by cigarettes, a lot of people. The only difference was that civilians were clumsy when they danced; shinobi moved with violent grace.
Ryouma slipped easily through the crowd, wearing the atmosphere like a second skin. The bar was three-deep in people. Ryouma solved that problem by being a head taller than everyone else; he signalled the grinning, glitter-covered woman behind the bar, handed cash over the crowd, and turned back around with three glasses in his hands.
“Winter Dogs. Alcoholic,” he yelled over the music, hefting the two pale green drinks in his right hand. Then the clear, bubbling glass in his left. “Soda water and yuzu. Up to you.”
Kakashi took the soda water. After a beat, he took one of the Winter Dogs too, and held it curiously under his nose. Sharp mint nipped at his sinuses. Ryouma grinned at him, teeth very white under the strobe lights. “Good choice.”
“You’re a bad influence,” Kakashi said, which just made Ryouma grin wider.
They staked out a spot at the balcony that overlooked the dance floor. Ryouma braced his elbows on the railing, drink held loosely in one hand. Condensation dripped over his fingers. The floor shivered beneath Kakashi’s feet in time to the music. It was made of interlocked metal grates; he could see down right through it. Underneath them, an even busier bar struggled to keep up with its patrons.
The soda water and yuzu tasted like carbonation and citrus. The Winter Dog was mint, herbs, and an alcoholic burn over ice. Kakashi limited himself to a few sips, just enough to chase a little warmth through his blood. Ryouma threw his back in two long gulps, collected Kakashi’s empty soda glass, and waded back to the bar. He returned with single short glass full of orange and red layers.
“Next round’s on you,” he said.
Kakashi tilted his head towards the entrance. “Lieutenant’s here.”
Ryouma looked down and nearly lost his grip on his drink. Genma stood next to the hallway of mirrors, surveying the club. Light glimmered on his bare shoulders and struck green glints off his semi-translucent shirt. He’d pulled his hair back into a twist that even Kakashi recognized as elegant. Behind him, ever punctual, Raidou turned the corner, caught sight of Genma, and tripped on thin air.
Kakashi propped his chin on his hand and watched, amused, as their captain recovered himself, gave Genma a second, disbelieving look, and then moved forward to tap him on the shoulder. Genma turned, smiling, and leaned back to admire Raidou’s version of civilian wear — broken-in jeans, boots, and a dark grey t-shirt that clung to his shoulders and fell loosely at his waist. Genma stepped close, Raidou bent his head to listen, and for a moment both of them just looked like young men.
It was an odd thought to have about his commanding officers.
Then Raidou’s head lifted dangerously. Ginta came strolling down the mirrored hallway arm-in-arm with Usagi, whose lips pursed in an obvious wolf-whistle as soon as she spotted Genma. They were followed by Abe, one arm still in a sling, and Kasumi, who had a tall, black-haired man Kakashi didn’t recognize hovering at her elbow.
Usagi was dressed even more casually than Raidou: faded, loose jeans and a dark tank-top cut low on the sides to show a red sports bra. Ginta, by contrast, had made an effort, though Kakashi wasn’t exactly sure what his intended look was supposed to be. Shiny black leather pants skimmed down his legs; his shirt was rich blue, collared and buttoned, rolled up at the elbows, but someone had taken a scalpel and delicately sliced a pattern of flowers and leaves out over the entire torso, replacing the cloth with sheer mesh. He raised an arm and saluted the balcony. The others looked up.
Kakashi waved reluctantly back. At his side, Ryouma looked pole-axed. |
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