Ryouma dropped his arm.

Kakashi’s fingers left his waistband, too. But they skimmed gently across Ryouma’s lower back before his hand dropped, and he didn’t step far from Ryouma’s side. He made an enquiring noise in the back of his throat, halfway between a dog’s bark and a man’s lilting question.

Saishou heaved her hindquarters up and stretched out the long line of her spine, toes spread and jaws gaping with her yawn. She settled again, yipping softly. The tilt of her ears spoke an eloquent language Ryouma couldn’t quite understand.

Kakashi said, puzzled, “Taichou and the lieutenant went to take...a bath?”

Grey-muzzled Yori rolled over with a grumbling sound. Probably something like I’m too old and tired for this nonsense, Ryouma guessed. He glanced expectantly at Kakashi.

“With Yuuhi,” Kakashi interpreted. “And Himself.”

“I’m sorry, I think you lost something in translation,” Ryouma said. “The officers went to take a bath with the terrifying Intel agent and a literal tanuki god?”

Kakashi lifted an eyebrow at Saishou. She barked once. Kakashi looked back at Ryouma. “Yes.”

“Okay, then.” Ryouma stared at the tired dogs, at the neat pile of gear: not just armor, he realized, but the confiscated lumps of packs and utility belts, weapons and scrolls. He didn’t see Genma or Raidou’s armor there. “Point in our favor: the officers can never judge us for reckless decisions ever again.”

“I suspect that won’t stop them,” Kakashi said dryly.

Saishou’s ears flicked forward, as if in amused agreement. Then she lifted her head, sniffing intently. Her ears pricked. She heaved her heavy belly up, crossed the trodden dust toward them, and reared up to plant her paws on Ryouma’s chest.

He almost lurched under the weight. Standing on her hind legs, she was nearly as tall as him, and her long teeth were very close to his face. She sniffed at his throat and jaw, her whiskers tickling against his ear. He held very still.

Something seemed to satisfy her. She licked his chin once and dropped back down to four paws. Then she headbutted Kakashi hard in the hip and trotted back to her spot by the fire.

Yori snorted, and settled his chin on folded paws.

“Did your dog just give me her blessing?” Ryouma asked, dazedly.

Kakashi’s skin shone just a little red in the dying firelight, above his mask. He scratched the back of his neck. “Yes.”

“Oh.” No one had ever approved of him before. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, either. Or with his face.

Standing here staring at Kakashi like an idiot until the officers came back probably wasn’t the best option. “Should we, uh, go make sure Yuuhi isn’t trying to assassinate a god?”

Kakashi’s eye crinkled again. “If—”

He stopped, head lifting.

Ryouma turned, and saw Himself looming up out of the darkness between the nearest houses. His fur glowed silver-white in the moonlight; he’d lost his hat and red neckerchief, but kept his pipe trailing smoke like mist. His scrotum had shrunken to an almost manageable scale, barely hampering his upright, bow-legged stride. A smaller tanuki trailed in his wake, carrying a pile of folded cloth so high she could barely see over it.

Himself stopped at the edge of the firelight, removed his pipe, and sniffed the air. He rumbled a deeply amused laugh. “Look who we’ve found, Fumi-chan! The well-bred man-kit and his faithful hound, back from their frolic by the pond.”

Ryouma stiffened. Himself smirked. “I don’t need to ask if you enjoyed yourselves.”

Assassinating a god didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.