| [Apr. 22nd, 2018|08:52 pm] |
It wasn’t a shinobi song, the kind Kakashi had grown up listening to, handed down from one trench-fighting generation to the next. Songs with a work-beat, meant to be sung in the dark and cold, when the world was iced in despair and you might not make it home tomorrow. About pretty girls and boys left behind, or the noble, gruesome ways ninja died for each other.
At first, Kakashi didn’t understand this one; there was no story in it. But the longer he listened, the more it slipped under his ribs and resonated. Something in the lyrics was familiar. Or maybe it was the man singing them. Ryouma had found his stride now, wending from verse to chorus with smoky grace. He’d sung this song before. A lot, Kakashi thought.
Knife and stone
Flesh and bone
Boy, make up your mind
Ryouma’s hand stilled on his knee. He let the last note fade out and looked down at Kakashi with fathomless eyes, and Kakashi had no idea what he was thinking.
Then Ryouma broke the moment with a self-conscious little shrug. “Good thing I joined ANBU instead of a rock band, huh?”
Was it?
Kakashi’s knowledge of rock bands was limited, but a life of creative expression seemed like it would suit Ryouma, where he could travel and sing and be adored for it, and no one asked him to melt traitors in their beds.
On the other hand, without Ryouma, Kakashi would have been dead two months ago.
But even without that…
It was a thought he didn’t want to put his hands around. Since graduating from the tattered remnants of Team Minato, Kakashi had worked solo, or in transient, uncomfortable squads, frustrating his teammates and himself until he could walk away. His sparks of easy companionship were his dogs, and Naruto, and as much as he loved them both, he could acknowledge that neither one exactly qualified for a mature relationship. Konoha took the lion’s share of Minato and Rin’s attention, and he didn’t begrudge it.
Ryouma had caught Kakashi’s attention with a sucker punch, but he’d kept it with his skilled hands, unorthodox mind, and unexpected kindness. With his humor that still caught Kakashi by surprise, and his old scars that made Kakashi want to reach into the past and burn parts of it down.
He was the first new person in a long, long time that Kakashi trusted enough to stretch out next to, and leave himself unguarded.
“I’d miss you,” Kakashi said.
This time, Ryouma didn’t blink. He just sat for a long moment, mouth slightly open, as if Kakashi had poleaxed him. When he finally reanimated, it was with a jerky head shake. “Well, maybe we’d still have met. Another life, you could be anyone, y’know? Lead singer for a rival band. My drummer.” A sharp smile flashed by. “A groupie.”
“I’ve always wanted to stand in a crowd and scream,” Kakashi said dryly.
“No, no, groupies get to go backstage, they—” Ryouma paused. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t like that part either. Uh, anyway. What about you? What makes you happy?”
Smooth, Ryouma.
This side of the questions was significantly more loaded. Kakashi considered and discarded the glib (porn), the dull (mission success), and the obvious (dogs, Naruto, Minato, Rin). Which left…
“Interesting jutsu. This team.” He smiled behind his mask. “Watching you try to backpedal. Are you saying I wouldn’t enjoy risky and meaningless sex with international stars?” |
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