Unlike the first time Ryouma had ever thanked him, Kakashi didn't have to lunge quick and catch the man before he fell. Unlike the second time, he didn't flush and change the subject. He didn't even throw it back in Ryouma's face. Just insult me like you know you want to. Instead his fingers hesitated over Ryouma's kneecap, tough cloth catching against callouses, before he squeezed the joint and pulled his hand back.

"Should be thanking you," he said, consonants dragged roughly over the lingering edge of a growl. "You came up with that band thing and killed the target. Got me out." Kept his cool in the middle of a personal nightmare, not to mention the first mission he'd had since the mess with Tsume and Kuromaru. Kakashi touched the edge of bandage beneath his mask, where a blade would've ended his night the terminal way if Ryouma hadn't intervened.

He didn't remember that particular rescue, but at least he was alive to not remember it.

And no longer anxious.

Maybe it was the warm scent of dog in the room, or the lick of fury still coursing through his insides (whatever Ryouma thought, Kakashi was going to find those men, even if it was only to shatter their gravestones), but mostly it was Ryouma, walking the line between strength and honesty. Talking about old hurts with stillness in his hands, steadiness in his voice, and steel in his eyes.

Proving one more time why he was worth standing by.

Kakashi rose to his feet and sat down on the bed, drawing his legs up to tuck one beneath the other before he called the dogs with a low whistle. Hoshika trotted over, ears pricked and tail high. Sober brown eyes swept over Ryouma before she settled down by his feet and, very carefully, licked one hand. Shiba leapt back up into his lap. Kakashi reached over to stroke one fringed ear, hesitated again, then left his hand on Ryouma's thigh.

"Guess I'll have to give up drinking," he said. Dark humour touched one corner of his mouth. "The Matsudas of the world will be very sad."