| [Apr. 22nd, 2018|09:29 pm] |
“Thanks for not asking, then,” Ryouma said coldly. “Where’s the rest of our team?”
Himself shook his massive head. “ ‘How fragile is the first spring blossom in the snow.’ ” It sounded like a quotation, though Ryouma didn’t recognize the source. The tanuki went on, in a gentler tone: “There’s no need to bristle your tail, kit. I’m delighted for your happiness. Just don’t let the pup’s bad manners rub off on you.”
“Hey,” Kakashi said mildly.
Ryouma looked back at him. Kakashi was standing easily, weight centered over one hip, nothing like a man tensed to fight or run. His flush had faded. He didn’t look embarrassed or angry, or even really annoyed. He hadn’t stepped away.
Maybe he didn’t mind.
Ryouma felt a little of the tension relax out of his own shoulders. He turned back to Himself. “I, uh, thanks. ‘Fragile’ is right, though, so if you could keep quiet about it…”
Himself waved an airy paw at Fumi, behind him. “See what you can find in that stack for these two.” As she set down the pile and began to rummage through, he gave a conspiratorial wink. “I’ll help you destroy the evidence. Change of clothes, erase those little bite marks. Your companions are engaged in a bath themselves, at the moment.”
Ryouma’s hand jumped to his jawline. By the fire, Yori snorted.
“Or you could give us our chakra back and we could do it ourselves,” Kakashi pointed out.
The tanuki drew thoughtfully on his pipe. “I’d have to take you out of the village. None of the adults have reason to suppress their auras here at home, and there are dozens of kits here, who couldn’t even if they tried. It would be much easier if you’d just let me help.”
Fumi held up two clean yukata, encouragingly.
If that was true, it answered one question that’d been nagging at Ryouma since smoke first bloomed and a statue fell. He scratched at the edge of his jaw. “Where’s Pakkun?”
That drew an unconcerned shrug. “The little pup with the big mouth? I couldn’t say. Is he likely to wander off by himself and get lost?”
That sounded honest. At least he wasn’t trying to lull them into false security. Ryouma looked back at Kakashi again.
Kakashi hesitated a moment, then lifted one shoulder. “We already drank the sake.”
“Good point.” Ryouma sighed and stripped off his shirt.
He couldn’t help the turn toward Kakashi, as he blinked free of blinding cloth. They’d barely half-undressed, by the pond: shirts shoved up, pants shoved down. Ryouma’d had his eyes closed half the time, and then Kakashi’d pinched the lantern out. Of course, Kakashi’d seen him shirtless before — seen him naked or nearly so, on nearly every mission they’d run. Still, would he look? Would he let Ryouma see in turn? |
|