| [Dec. 17th, 2017|03:24 am] |
Curiosity won out, as it usually did.
Ryouma stretched, leaning casually in front of Kakashi. Kakashi slipped behind his outstretched arm and lowered his mask for the hidden moment it took to drink. He was too nervy to really taste anything. He swallowed, yanked his mask back up. Made to pass the cup to its tanuki-bearer, but Pakkun slid down Kakashi’s shoulder before the hand-off was completed and shoved his head into the cup, taking a deep swallow. The tanuki bristled.
Pakkun raised his head, licking his lips. “Thanks, cousin.”
The tanuki unbristled himself with effort and hurried the cup away.
Kakashi felt— strange.
It started with warmth. First in his throat, then sliding down into his stomach, twining tendrils around old, old tension that had crouched there so long it was almost a comfort. A permanent ache that meant he was alive and paying attention. He swallowed, and the feeling uncoiled itself, peeled away like a strangling vine pulled from its parent plant. In the space left behind, he could draw a full breath. He inhaled and felt lighter.
His senses, always pretty sharp, seemed acute. Colors brightened, scents amplified. The wind was a caress.
It wasn’t like morphine, clouded and dizzy. Or the tipsy delirium of blood loss. It wasn’t even like the night at the club, with everything briefly drowned under flaming alcohol. He was clear-headed. His thoughts felt like his own. They just… didn’t hurt.
“Wow,” he said quietly.
“Right?” Ryouma smiled, unguarded. It changed everything about his face.
A small commotion caught Kakashi’s attention. The two small tanuki who’d commandeered Genma’s lap and plied him with treats had now captured his hands. They were scrabbling backwards, trying to tow him off the platform. A third tanuki, even smaller, set one shoulder against the back of Genma’s knee and shoved.
Since Genma was a shinobi, this made no appreciable difference, but he kindly allowed himself to be pulled down and hauled away.
“Hey,” Raidou said.
“You just missed your chance to invite him bonfire dancing,” Kurenai told Raidou, light and amused.
Raidou glanced at her, eyebrows quirked. Still within earshot, Genma called back, “You could come with me.”
Kakashi watched with interest as Raidou stepped down from the platform, extended a strong hand to help Kurenai down, and did exactly that. Genma’s kits were loudly dismayed at the intrusion of the red moon demon, but Kurenai was made much of, and no one actually squashed Raidou with a rock.
“I think we’ve been abandoned,” Kakashi told Ryouma. “On testicles.”
“I keep trying to forget,” Ryouma confided, making Pakkun snort. He looked over at Harubi and her daughter, tucked together with Kin curled around them like a gleaming golden bulwark. “They’ll be okay.”
For once, he didn’t sound like he was trying to convince himself. He sounded certain.
“Yep,” Kakashi agreed. He ducked a shallow bow at Himself and said, “Excuse us. I’m rude and your scrotum hospitality is uncomfortable. We’re going over there now.”
He stepped off the platform, landing back on solid ground, scooped his boots up, and glanced over his shoulder at Ryouma.
Ryouma said earnestly, “We liked the sake, though.”
The furry mattress rippled under Ryouma’s feet, lifting and depositing him gently next to Kakashi. He grabbed his own boots, but didn’t put them on. Himself raised the enormous ceremonial sake cup in a farewell toast.
“Show off,” Pakkun muttered, and leapt down from Kakashi’s shoulder to trot away. |
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