Ginta took a breath again at last. A two-stepped, shallow inhale, broken in the middle. Took a breath and echoed Kakashi's concealed smile with a not-quite-steady one of his own. Salt-rimmed and sharply tanged.

How long ago had it been that Ginta had done the same thing? Stopped by a hospital room to see if Kakashi was okay, knowing he couldn't be. Pushed him up against a darkened corridor wall and demanded that Kakashi stop running away.

There was something achingly acute about the way the roles played out now. Kakashi held Ginta's face between his palms. Held Ginta's eyes with a storm-cloud grey gaze. Watching. Waiting.

"Big boys don't cry, didn't you know that?" Ginta whispered. Another breath. Another shaky sound that wasn't laughter, wasn't weeping. Ginta lifted his hands and cupped them over Kakashi's, curling slender fingers around sturdy wrists.