Pre-Note: This fic takes place approximately eight years before the start of the Naruto canon, meaning that Kakashi is nineteen years old, almost twenty. The Land of Rice and the Rice Village, as far as I know, are not real places in the Naruto universe, meaning that I have taken creative license in their creation. If I am mistaken, please do message me with corrections.
As always, I don't own Naruto, because if I did I wouldn't need student loans.
The real problem with escorting nobles, Kakashi decided, did not lie with the act of guarding them. In fact, nobles were very easy to guard; they rarely ever left their carriages unless they desperately had to pee, and taking them off into the woods on a pee break was a simple task. Nobles tended not to converse with the hired help either, more out of fear that money was not the driving force behind shinobi's actions than anything else, really. No, the problem with guarding nobles was nothing that they actively did.
The problem was just that Kakashi hated listening to them talk.
Nobles were supposed to be a well-educated, knowledgeable set filled with astute observations and talents relating to flower configurations and tea-pouring. However, the most knowledgeable thing Kakashi had yet gleaned from their ceaseless chatter that the daughter of the daimyo of the Land of Tea was sleeping with a man three times her age and three times as wealthy as her father while already being married to the Kazekage's third cousin twice removed. This was nothing that Kakashi necessarily needed (or cared) to know, but it could prove to be useful information in a pinch so he filed the tidbit away in the back of his mind for safekeeping.
Kakashi had been advised numerous times to simply use his internal filter to drown out what the nobles said as they bumped along in their carriage, but he had yet to actually apply his internal filter. How could he? His job was to be observant to his surroundings, and if he was ignoring his charges (however useless their banter was), then he was ignoring his surroundings. But fuck, did these rich morons know how to carry on a meaningless conversation.
"Excuse me, Mr. Shinobi?" One of the nobles, a portly young fellow with round, rosy cheeks and blonde hair, stuck his head out of the carriage window. If the blush stain on his cheeks was any indication, the guy was already well on his way to being falling-down drunk before he ever even reached the wedding he was scheduled to attend. "How much longer until we reach the gate?"
They weren't far from the border of the Land of Rice, perhaps an hour away. Kakashi told the man as much. "And maybe two hours from the Village of Rice."
"What excellent timing!" The man drooled a tad. He wiped away the string of saliva hanging from his slack, drunken mouth. "We certainly appreciate you getting us here a day ahead! We did so want to help out with the wedding!"
The wedding was the hottest topic and the subject of rumors both admirable and scandalous. Most of the rumors had been started by the bridal party (apparently, her side of the family was chock full of no-class, no-talent, shinobi grunts). Kakashi seriously doubted that this section of the bridal party would be doing anything in regards to the wedding other than drinking all of the champagne.
"It's what you're paying us for. We're happy to comply."
"Of course, of course!" the noble exclaimed before ducking back into the carriage. He'd left a few droplets of sweat on the ground from where his delicate skin had perspired against the melting humidity.
Since departing from Kohonagakura, Kakashi had decided no less than seven times that his assignment to this mission was meant as a punishment for some previous slight against the Hokage (or the village elders, who, for some reason, did not particularly care for him). He was Copy-Nin Hatake Kakashi for goodness sake, Kohona's most resilient and feared jounin, a close second to the Hokage himself in strength, power, and general infamy. The red in his ledger could have painted every building in Kohona. He simply didn't get assigned to dignitary missions (much less wedding duty) without having fucked something up entirely spectacularly at some point beforehand.
Oh, sure, Sandaime-sama had assured Kakashi that this mission would be a piece of cake, like a paid vacation, really. He'd get to spend a week in the Land of Rice supervising the team of jounin guarding the bridal party. He got free food, housing, and booze. He didn't even have to guard anyone himself (but if he wanted to keep an eye on the bride, well, that would be much appreciated, shoulder-slap, annoyingly fake guffaw).
He was told that he would be having a fun romp through the socialite circuit of the Land of Rice, partying with a bunch of rich benefactors (and the daimyo's son, who happened to be the groom). What he heard was that he would be standing around, watching a bunch of rich pricks and old ladies drink themselves into alcohol poisoning.
Kakashi was going to have a fun week.
A little less than two hours later, the gates of the Village of Rice loomed into view. The gates were hideous iron erections with ugly spiked tips and were possibly compensating for the fact that the village was woefully undermanned in terms of shinobi power. There were a few power players roaming the streets, but not enough to make up for the fact that the village had to hire shinobi from it's allied countries to lend a hand at a wedding. Two of said power players were waiting to welcome the party to the village, and Kakashi gladly handed the carriage off to the taller of the two guards.
The guard took the main horse's lead. He was tall and dark-skinned, with a wide mouth that made him almost androgynous. "Any trouble getting here from Konoha?"
Kakashi shook his head. "No. Maybe it'll be a quiet week."
The guard sighed, tugging gently on the horse's lead. "If the daimyo's son is involved, it's gonna be hell."
"So I've heard, but he's not my problem," Kakashi replied. He wanted to be empathetic towards the guard, he really did, but he'd heard about the daimyo's son's previous antics and breathed a sigh of happy relief. There was one bullet he was exceptionally glad to have dodged. "I'm on vacation."
"More power to you then, Hatake," the guard replied, pulling the horses through the gate.
The team of jonin that had accompanied Kakashi filed in behind him. He turned to face them; as soon as he conducted his debriefing, he was essentially free to do whatever he wished. He was on vacation. Gross.
"The three of you have been assigned to your charges. You'll be posing as their dates for the week, which means you'll be sleeping in the same room as them. The Hokage said that we don't have the resources to handle another international scandal, so please don't kill your charge and please don't get your charge pregnant."
Kakashi paused, waiting for questions. He received nothing but hushed snickering, so he continued. "Debriefings will be held in the lobby of the jonin compound twice a day: once at eight a.m. and once at nine p.m. Don't be late. Don't skip out."
The girl who was, in effect, his second in command rolled her eyes. "That includes you, taicho. Don't be late."
Kakashi fixed her with an even glare. "I'm on vacation. You work to my schedule."
The girl shrugged. "Right, anyway. Just don't be late to the wedding tomorrow, taicho. Nobles don't like it when you skip the party."
Right, the wedding. He wasn't looking forward to that. Not only would he have to sit still for hours (which he wasn't comfortable with on the best of days), but he would have to sit still for hours in a dress kimono. He would also probably be settled somewhere near the bride (for good measure, wink wink, nudge nudge, you're not really on vacation like they keep telling you) so that he could keep a close eye on her, which meant people would be paying attention to him. That, he could most certainly do without.
Kakashi led his team into the village behind the carriage filled with nobles. Vacation, right. And that carriage was actually filled with nobles. He was almost certain that the bride's side of the family was cashing in on the new husband's extensive dime. He wasn't part of the economically elite, but he had been escorting them from place to place long enough to know that nobles didn't just stick their heads out of the carriage to ask how much longer. Nobles sat around quietly and only acknowledged their escorts if they had to take a piss.
Upon reaching the nobles' hotel, Kakashi split away from the group due to his increasing lack of importance. He had given his team their orders, and that was the best he could do. The success of the mission now rested firmly on their (inexperienced) shoulders.
He had only a vague idea of where the shinobi compound was located, mostly due to half-assed directions some chunin had given him at the gates. Of course, since he was on "vacation," he really had nowhere important to be; wandering the Rice Village aimlessly wasn't the worst thing he could be doing. It was rather pleasant actually, shuffling down the warm streets with the sting of spices under his nose.
The shinobi compound was barely visible in the distance, but getting settled in was the last thing on Kakashi's mind. The lack of food over the past two days had his stomach roiling. The heady scent of tea and sweet rolls was drifting from the shop at the end of the street, and his stomach was directing him rather forcibly to the entrance. If he was lucky, maybe the place was a restaurant as well as a pastry shop. If nothing else, there was tea, and that would be enough to satiate him.
A bell over the door dinged as he pushed the glass open. The shop was small and cozy, with small tables surrounded by plush cushions. The bar was high, as were the bar stools, but Kakashi was easily tall enough to see over the bar. Behind the bar, a woman polished a miniscule teacup with a clean, white cloth. There was only one other person besides himself and the waitress: a pretty redheaded girl sipped tea in the far corner as she sat engrossed in a novel.
The waitress beamed at him as he sat down at the table to the left of the redhead. "Hey, sweetie! Can I get you something to drink?"
He nodded shortly. "Tea, please."
"Sure thing! I'll set a pot on for you!" The waitress busied herself with pressing tea leaves into a kettle. "Anything to eat? I can make anything you want."
Kakashi fiddled with the hem of his mask. "What's the special?"
"Kaeda-chan's miso soup is the best in the village."
From her position at the adjacent table, the redhead made her presence known. The girl had stored her book in some unknown pouch, and she was observing Kakashi with particular interest, her small smirk hidden partially behind the hand currently toying with her bottom lip.
The waitress, Kaeda, shushed the redhead. "Let him choose for himself, Obata-san! Maybe he doesn't like miso soup!"
Deep within Kakashi's most primal psyche, he began to salivate with anticipation . He would always be ready for a good bowl of miso soup. "That sounds excellent, actually."
The redhead smiled triumphantly. "I can always tell what a man likes to eat."
"Hush, Obata! Don't brag!" Kaeda leaned over the edge of the bar top. "You look far too thin, dear! Are you sure you wouldn't like more to your meal?"
"No, thank you, Kaeda-san. Miso soup is quite enough."
His treacherous stomach growled, betraying him. Obata clearly heard it gurgle. "I'll bet he'd like ribs, too. You can put it on my ticket, Kaeda-san."
Kakashi was used to women fawning over him, cooing about how he was so mysterious or trying desperately to incite his desire. He wouldn't accuse either one of these women of fawning over him, though the redhead had been eyeing him rather appreciatively, but he wasn't going to complain if these two ladies wanted to pay attention to him. He was rather enjoying the attention, particularly the redhead's.
Kaeda was a pleasant, middle-aged woman with a sweet face and graying hair, rather motherly in demeanor. She was preparing his tea tray while Obata was stacking her dishes up. The redhead, well, was easy on the eyes, and she was smirking at him like she already knew what he looked like naked.
While the waitress arranged his tea tray on the table, Obata slid onto the cushion next to him, storing her pack underneath the table. "You're a long way from Konoha, aren't you?."
There was no need to ask how she knew where he was from; he was wearing his headband. Kakashi swished his tea around in his cup, but didn't take a sip. "I'm here for the wedding."
From the sharp aroma drifting from the lip of the cup, the liquid was in Obata's teacup wasn't actually tea. "Ah, yes. The daimyo's son's wedding. Will you be sitting on the bride's side or the groom's side?"
"The bride's side," Kakashi replied smoothly. Yes, it was definitely sake in her cup, though she appeared quite sober.
Obata set the empty tea cup to the side. "As protection or as a friend?"
"Friend. I'm on vacation." Not entirely untrue, but he couldn't very well admit that he was kind of a wedding-crasher, now could he?
She folded her arms across her chest as she reclined back on the cushion. The motion pushed her breasts up nicely, and it took a substantive amount of willpower on his part not to sneak a peek. "Is that right? The bride must be very well connected indeed to have made a friend out of Hatake Kakashi."
Beneath the mask, he smirked. "How did you know?"
Obata rested her chin in her hand. "Most hunter-nin own a Bingo Book, you know. And you're not exactly incognito."
"So then you must be a hunter-nin, Obata-san?"
Her grin widened. "Whatever would give you that idea, Kakashi-san? I was merely offering information."
Kaesa barged out of the kitchen door behind the bar carrying a tray laden with a rack of barbecued ribs and a wide, healthy bowl of miso soup. She sat the tray down in front of him, and his stomach gurgled eagerly as the perfect aroma set his nasal sensors on fire. He waited until Kaeda turned her back and Obata looked the other way before inhaling a quarter of the bowl of soup.
He settled his mask back atop his nose just as Obata looked back around at him. From the slight upward quirk of her eyebrows and lips, she wasn't so much surprised by his stealthy food consumption as she was amused.
She nodded in appreciation. "You're good, Hatake-san."
"I don't recognize your name from the Book," Kakashi observed. He took her compliment in stride; he rarely ever acknowledged compliments paid to him.
She shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't be much of a hunter-nin if you recognized me, now would I?"
"So, you do admit to being a hunter-nin?"
Obata reached across his arm and picked at the fatty edge of one of his ribs. "I wasn't aware they existed at all, of course. I'm just a civilian."
She had no discernable scars across the exposed parts of her anatomy (her face and arms), so he couldn't disprove her claim. She was also not wearing anything to represent the Land of Rice, so he couldn't determine whether she was a shinobi or not. If she was, he still didn't recognize her surname. To his immediate recollection, he could not recall anyone by the last name of Obata.
Kaeda peered over the bar. "Obata-san, it's getting rather late, isn't it?"
Obata checked the clock above Kaeda's head. It was nearly three in the afternoon; Kakashi had in the restaurant for nearly an hour. "It is, isn't it? I should be going, I guess."
"You would've stayed here the rest of the day if I hadn't said something," Kaeda huffed. The sweet waitress busied herself with arranging another tea tray to replace Kakashi's empty one.
"Well, you're not wrong," Obata said, standing up. She gathered up her small pack and slung it over her pack before draining the last of the liquid in her teacup. "I'll look for you at the wedding tomorrow, Kakashi-san."
Kakashi nodded, appreciating the redhead's form at her full height. "Perhaps we'll be arranged near each other."
Obata smirked. "I do hope so. We could steal the spotlight from the happy couple."
She was close to him, her hip nearly pressing into his side. He enjoyed the warmth and the sweet scent of orange blossoms (and, perhaps, the warm undertone of sake) drifting off of her, and he sincerely hoped that they would be seated close together.
"We could," Kakashi agreed. He closed his visible eye for a moment, and when he opened it again, he was staring Obata straight in the face.
Obata leaned down and hooked her fingers under Kakashi's chin; she toyed with the clingy fabric of his mask, rubbing it between the tips of her thumb and forefinger. "Perhaps then, if you feel up to it, you would like to meet me back here the day after tomorrow? Say around noon?"
Kakashi's fingers grazed her thigh, but he didn't actively make the move to hold her there. "I don't see why not."
Her lips were centimeters from grazing the fabric of his mask. "If I close my eyes, could I leave you with a little extra incentive to meet me here again?"
The temptation to close the tiny gap between them made him light-headed. "I insist that you do."
Obata closed her eyes and gently tugged his mask down past him lips. The light rubbing of the soft fabric was replaced by her smooth, warm lips on his. Kakashi almost couldn't bring himself to close his one visible eye; he wanted to watch her soft lips mold so perfectly to his. His hand snaked around her thigh, pulling her closer to him. She smirked into the kiss and pressed against him roughly, pushing him back in his seat.
When she pulled away, he followed; she pressed another softer, quicker kiss on on his lips before slipping his mask back up over his nose. When she opened her eyes, she smiled at him instead of smirking, affection brightening her grin.
She ran her thumb over his clothed bottom lip. The soft sensation sent a jolt all the way from his lips and down through his groin where it settled into a tingling sensation at the backs of his thighs. "No matter what happens at the wedding tomorrow, don't forget: Noon, Wednesday." She laced her fingers through the fingers of the hand currently holding her thigh and disentangled them from the fabric of her pants. "I'll be waiting."
"I'll be here."
Obata winked at him and gave a wave of her fingers before turning and exiting the restaurant.
From her spot behind the bar, Kaeda sighed as she wiped down a wet teacup with a clean cloth. "That girl is trouble."
Kakashi finished off his bowl of miso soup and began to rip the meat of his ribs from the bones. His experiences with women were few and far between, but from the few he had, trouble seemed to follow him. "What kind of trouble?"
Kaeda walked out from behind the bar and sat up on the stool, duties forgotten. "You know the kind of trouble that eventually ends up in kids and a decent family?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, she's not it," the woman replied, brushing a strand of graying hair out of her eyes. "I respect her deeply, but I don't understand her."
"I see." No, he didn't really see, but he had the deepest suspicion that he was going to find out pretty quickly what the woman meant.
Kaeda studied him for the longest time, taking in everything from his expressionless eye to the way his fingers curled as if still gripping Obata's thigh. "No, you don't, but you will."
He didn't respond.
"But if I could give you some advice, Hatake-san, it would be this: Be better than the rest. Make her love you back."
When he pulled his money out, Kaeda assured him several times over that his meal had already been paid for. Kakashi finished his meal and left without paying.
A/N: The rating will go up to M in a couple of chapters. I include a warning at the beginning of all my sexy chapters, and I plan to have several in this story.
2/26/2015: Edits were made.