As Ryouma talked, his scent eddying gently into the watercolour palate of sadness, Kakashi fell out of his crouch, finally settling down with his legs loosely crossed. The position was oddly reminiscent of his brief school days; a student listening to a teacher's story.

Not that Ryouma was a teacher, or Kakashi was learning a lesson. If anything, he felt a little vindicated in some dark, unhappy way. Sex did get people killed, and there was the proof.

He scrubbed his hands tiredly over the uncovered half of his face, and raked them back to mess up his hair. It stood up in dirty spikes, still stained with old blood and whatever else he'd picked up dragging Ryouma and Tsume out of their own personal hell.

"You're kind of an idiot," he said eventually, without the sympathy Ryouma's story probably deserved. "Who falls in love after a month? That's your problem, rookie. You bound up to everyone like a--like a stupid eager puppy. All big eyes and wagging tail, asking for people to love you and handing your heart out to anyone that'll take it--running on to the next when they throw it back broken."

He was being a bastard now, but he couldn't make himself stop. Not even for the hurt washing over Ryouma's face--there and gone like a juggler's trick.

This was another reason not to get close; you only gave someone better knowledge of how to knife you. And Kakashi was good at slotting the pieces together and shaping a blade, especially when he was tired and sore and someone was asking too damn much.

Telling too damn much.

"And I'll give you half a guess about what I was doing at seventeen," he went on, feeling the wind drag over his raw back. "It was pretty much this, without the endless attempts of everyone to make fucking friends.."

Which didn't even begin to cover riverbanks--or what'd happened on them--but he'd already said enough. More than enough, judging by the way Ryouma smelled now.

Kakashi throttled a sigh, tangled up between anger and exhaustion and the stupid persisting desire to go over and lean against the other man until his scent warmed up again--which would completely defeat all the points he'd ever tried to make.

He rubbed his face again.

"Look, let's just go inside before a nurse has kittens. You can--sleep or something and I can glare at people and Tsume can sniff you until her drugs wear off and we'll all be happy."

It was as close to an apology as he could manage.