| [Oct. 19th, 2013|04:17 am] |
Naruto sniffled, just once, and leaned in for a quiet moment while people died in blood-soaked, violent ways on Ryouma’s tiny screen. Kakashi closed his eyes, drifting just a little, but came abruptly back when Naruto said, “D’you think Tousaki-san drowned in the showers? Should we go rescue him?”
Kakashi considered the mental image of Ryouma drowning alone in the showers, and did not find it unlikely. But the man had survived to jounin-level in roughly one piece, which suggested he could weather indoor plumbing unmonitored.
Gently, he poked Naruto in the side. “Tousaki-san’s a decent ninja. I think he can handle it.”
Also, Naruto leaping on Ryouma’s naked back in the spirit of noble rescue was not actually a set of events Kakashi wanted to explain. Though he did wonder, briefly, what that jewel-colored dragon looked like under water. He must have seen it in Hayama when he’d tossed Ryouma into the shower, but he didn’t remember. Keeping Ryouma upright and moving had taken most of his attention.
“Only really bad ninja drown in the shower, huh,” Naruto said drowsily, catching hold of Kakashi’s hand. He made Kakashi splay his fingers wide, and traced curiously over one of the white scars that ran down Kakashi’s index finger. “Next time I wanna shower with you. You can make water dragons fight again.”
There was still water in the sink. Kakashi put his hands together, careful of the small hand between them, and spent a seedling of chakra on three slow seals. Naruto giggled sleepily as the movement of energy tickled his skin. Across the room, a little cloud of soap bubbles rose up and danced, catching glints of light through the window. A dragon at first, twining and graceful, since that was the theme of the afternoon, then a butterfly. It spread delicate bubble-wings and flew across the room to land on Naruto’s nose.
“Now who’s pretty?” Kakashi murmured.
Naruto went cross-eyed staring at the tip of his own nose. Little sun-spots glimmered across his face; refracted light through the butterfly wings. “Not a princess,” he objected. “Dad says him and Mom were both common as dirt. You’re the one with the fancy house, Kakashi-niisan…”
“My mother has the fancy house,” Kakashi corrected softly, and wondered where she was. Not in the village. “I do soldier’s work. You should be a princess, though, since you live in a palace.”
Naruto laughed, lilting and happy. “We can both be pretty princesses. Dad can be the king. An’ Rin-neesan can be the chief minister who makes everybody do what she says….” He slid down a little, pillowing himself more comfortably on Kakashi’s stomach, and poked the butterfly. It popped in a tiny cascade of blue sparks. Naruto made a sad sound.
“Not much different from now,” Kakashi said, amused, and summoned a second butterfly. It flew in slow figure-eights around the ceiling, scattering blue glints over the painted plaster. “Except I’d fall over in a dress.”
The movie was still chewing through its cast in bloody, dramatic chunks. He keyed the volume down, until the soundtrack was a faint background of stringed instruments and the occasional quiet scream. |
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