Dai spent an exciting five minutes staring at the grey wall. It was a good wall, he decided, clean and sturdy. Just not a very interesting one. He listened as he waited, keeping an ear out for any sound from upstairs. Splashing water, footsteps, something. There was nothing.

The ongoing silence made him chew on his lip, made him shift his weight from one foot to the other. He wasn't good at standing still for long amounts of time. Awkwardness and piercing stares aside, he wished Kakashi hadn't just run off like that. It was too weird, being in a stranger's house on his own. Plus, wasn't it irresponsible to let a random strange man into the house only to leave him unobserved? Shouldn't Kakashi know better?

Unless he really doesn't see me as a threat…

A depressing thought. Dai cringed - not that he was a threat! But he was still a shinobi…

He leaned against the wall behind him – it too was grey and smugly nondescript – and sighed. This wasn't the start to his day he'd envisioned. By this time he'd planned to have lured Sakumo out of his shell with the extra bentô he'd made for him. They would have had breakfast together while a meaningful conversation about fatherhood and duty would have bloomed naturally between them! In the end there would have been a long, manly hug during which Sakumo might have broken down and shed a few tears, crying out his frustration and pain. It would have been a moment of healing!

Dai sighed once more. He knew he was being unreasonable. He'd let Minato-kun's words go to his head. A simple bentô wouldn't be enough to help Sakumo. No matter how much he wanted it to be.

He closed his eyes, trying to envision a smile on that pale face. Or maybe not a smile… A look of relief would be enough for now. Anything a little less pained than what Dai had seen so far.

"Kakashi? Have you—"

How had he not heard footsteps? Startled, Dai jerked into a more upright position just as Sakumo appeared at the top of the stairs. He was shirtless and damp, a towel hanging loosely around his neck. Dai stared at his almost hairless, sparsely muscled chest. It wasn't at all what he'd expected from a legendary jônin. Standing there in his sweatpants, Sakumo looked boyish despite his age and oddly vulnerable.

"Dai?" Sakumo was frowning down at him. He took the last few steps carefully, as if unsure of his footing. "Did Kakashi let you in? Where is he?"

"Ah, well… He told me to tell you…"

What exactly? Not much…

A father would want to know where his son went, but Kakashi hadn't disclosed that information to Dai. He'd simply left and now Dai felt like a failure for not asking. Not that Kakashi would have told him anyway, but still…

"He went out," Dai said. A different person might have shrugged, but Dai kept very still and looked Sakumo straight in the eye.

"Oh… I see."

It wasn't even a reaction.

Sakumo was going to go about his day now. He would accept Kakashi's absence like Dai suspected he accepted his son's presence as something not worth acknowledging.

Holding out his hand, Sakumo stepped closer to Dai, close enough for Dai to smell the faint scent of soap still clinging to Sakumo's skin.

"The documents?"

It took Dai a second to realize what he wanted. The paperwork. Right. Sakumo would take it and withdraw into a dark room by himself. Dai was expected to hand them over and leave.

"Actually," he said, tightening his grip on the bundle of files, "I thought we could have breakfast first."

Sakumo's frown deepened. "Breakfast?" He spoke the word as if he had never heard it before, as if he had no idea what it could mean.

"Yeah!" Being enthusiastic, Dai had found throughout his life, could alleviate doubt – in himself as well as in others. Never slow down! He held up the two bentô he'd brought, dangling them in front of Sakumo's face like one would dangle a carrot in front of a donkey. "I accidentally made too many today… Gai went on a mission, you know, and I had all those ingredients in the house. I went a little overboard! Haha!"

"Accidentally…?" Sakumo shook his head. For a moment there it looked like he was going to comment, but then nothing came. He was still holding out his hand and frowning. It was clear where this was going.

"Thank you for the kind offer, but I've already eaten." As expected Sakumo's reply was stiff and formal. Like a cold marble statue he stood in the hallway, his dark eyes avoiding Dai's face. His hand reaching for the paperwork.

It happened the very moment Sakumo's fingertips brushed the files. As if a switch had been flipped, as if the action itself had been a silent signal, Sakumo's stomach growled. The sound was so loud and unexpected that Dai nearly burst into laughter. Sakumo's reaction didn't help. He stood frozen in place, his face turning a shockingly deep crimson.

"That— I…"

"You are hungry!" Dai couldn't have hoped for anything better. He was close to breaking into cheers. "Then it's decided! We're going to have breakfast!"

"No! I must be digesting—" Sakumo folded his arms across his chest, but his pink cheeks ruined his stern look. The blush, the long silver hair falling onto his pale shoulders… It was… cute on him, Dai decided. Then he felt silly for having thought of another man – a superior shinobi! – as cute of all things.

He squared his shoulders, pushing away his weird thoughts. "You can't fool me, Sakumo-san! You might think it's beneath you as a jônin to eat with an eternal genin like me, but I won't leave you to starve yourself!" With that Dai closed the distance between them and grabbed Sakumo by one wrist.

"What are you—?"

Legendary jônin or not -dragging Sakumo over into the next room and making him sit down at the table was surprisingly easy.

"I don't know why you are doing this. None of this is any of your business."

Sakumo topless in a chair in the kitchen was no more enthusiastic than half naked Sakumo in the hallway had been.

Fine.

Dai put one bentô box in front of his reluctant host and went rummaging through the drawers for chopsticks. When he'd found them, he sat down opposite Sakumo, who was busy staring at the tabletop, his hands balled to fists in his lap.

"You can't work if you don't eat properly," Dai said. He opened his box, hoping the delicious smell emanating from it would whet Sakumo's appetite.

No such luck.

Sakumo continued staring. He made no move to pick up the chopsticks Dai had placed next to his bentô.

When he spoke, he didn't look up. His voice was a toneless mumble easily lost in the big, bright kitchen. "I don't feel like eating."

Dai swallowed. The naked honesty of the statement had caught him off guard. He didn't know what to say to that. He put his chopsticks down and asked, "Why?"

"Why?" Sakumo made a strange dry sound. Dai thought it might have been a cough until he spoke again. "You're a funny man." A chuckle then. But with no life in it and certainly no humor.

Why won't you look at me? Dai stared hard at the slumped form in the chair opposite him. He didn't know what to do, but he also didn't understand.

How can you just give up like this?

Helplessness quickly turned into frustration, which, just as swiftly, transformed into anger. Dai couldn't contain himself any longer. He felt like slamming his fist down on the table hard enough to break it.

"Hating yourself accomplishes nothing," he said instead. "Sitting here, starving yourself, none of this helps."

Another dead chuckle. Sakumo's eyes darted up at him. They were dull and hopeless. The look in them was ancient and made a shiver run up Dai's spine. "What would you do if you were in my position, Maito Dai-san?"

"I would keep moving! Don't dwell on the past!" It was easy enough to repeat stock phrases like that. Dai nodded and jumped to his feet. He planted his hands on the table and looked Sakumo in the eye. "You can't change what's done, so you have to look to the future!"

"And how does one do that?"

"Well… for starters… you could eat something!"

Grinning, Dai gestured towards the bentô. "You'll love this! It's a special recipe!"

Sakumo sighed and picked up the chopsticks. He didn't look convinced, but he did reach for the bentô box and that gave Dai hope. He sat down again and picked up his own set of chopsticks, ready to dig in. "There's nothing more energizing, more delicious than—"

Dai stopped. Sakumo had taken the lid off his boxed lunch and was staring at it with the strangest expression on his face. For a second his eyes had gone almost comically wide, then they'd narrowed under a heavy frown. When he looked up at Dai, his face was as hard and unreadable as an Anbu mask.

"What is this?" Sakumo asked, his voice dripping suspicion.

"Huh?"

Without another word, Sakumo pushed his boxed lunch and its lid over to Dai.

"Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?"

Dai looked into the box. On top of the rice a message was laid out in thin strips of carrot.

頑張って！！

He swallowed, feeling heat rise to his face.

Oh no…

Reluctantly, he glanced at the lid.

Argh…

A green post it-note was taped inside and written on it were, in his own elegant handwriting, the beautiful, heartfelt words, Papa loves you very much!

"Papa?" Dai could have sworn there was sarcasm in Sakumo's voice, but he had bigger concerns than the other man now.

"It's Gai's! It's Gai's bentô! He was supposed to take this one on his mission! I must have mixed them up!" Dai jumped up and pulled on his hair in frustration. He wanted to pace the length of the kitchen – no, he wanted to run out of the house and out of the village, up that mountain path to his son! "Now he'll just have a regular lunch without his father's loving words of encouragement!"

"I think your son will live…"

"You don't understand! I'm the only one—"

"He has?" Sakumo raised an eyebrow. He was an infuriating person. "Are you?"

No, of course not. Gai had a teacher he respected, he had friends, team mates and a rival, but that didn't mean—

"I'm his father," Dai said. He hoped his tone conveyed that this particular part of their discussion was over. He sat back down again, unwilling to acknowledge what had happened. "Let's eat."

Dai should have been proud of himself for getting Sakumo to open up – even if it had been only the tiniest bit – but instead he spent the rest of the day repressing mental images of the disappointment on Gai's face when he would open his lunchbox and see that his dad hadn't made him anything special.

Dai trained. He did the laundry and mended a couple of his and Gai's torn jumpsuits. He cleaned and did the grocery shopping, but nothing really helped.

When evening came he dutifully made his way back to Sakumo's home to retrieve the finished paperwork.

Once again, Kakashi was at the door, greeting him with a bored nod. "Dad went to bed early. He told me to give this to you." Kakashi held out the bundle of files.

Dai took it and was about to say his goodbyes – if he'd learned anything so far it was that neither Hatake was especially fond of small talk – but Kakashi inclined his head, giving him a long, pensive look that reminded Dai of the time he'd been sent to the hospital by a teacher who'd been convinced there had to be a medical reason for Dai's inability to mold chakra.

"Is something wrong?" Dai asked after the stare had lasted for a couple of unnerving seconds.

"Not really." With nothing more than a shrug, Kakashi stepped back, closing the door in Dai's face before he had the chance to protest. Dai shook his head and sighed. The boy was impossible to talk to.

He must get it from his father…

Having little in terms of other options, Dai walked down the path through the garden back to the front gate, where he turned around once more to glance at the house. He didn't know why. He'd just had that feeling…

The lights were on downstairs, but the windows on the second floor were all dark. Except…

Dai blinked. For a second there he'd thought there'd been movement in one of the black rectangles. A curtain stirring?

Must have been my imagination. Dai shook his head as he closed the screeching gate behind himself. What a weird family…