I do not own Naruto.


Chapter 12


From the fruit of a man's mouth his stomach is satisfied; he is satisfied by the yield of his lips. Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit.

"Kakashi-san, what are you reading?"

They had been traveling west for hours, the carriage's wheels occasionally catching bumps on worn-out paths. Throughout their home country they went, towards Nami no Kuni. In civilian attire, Fuko and Yugao manned the horses, driving out front.

For the initial hours of the ride, Ayame stuck her nose out the window, backside up and towards Kakashi. She munched on snacks and she let out the occasional "ooo" and "ah!" and "are we close?" which reminded him of a genin team seven. At times she would say "come look!" and reach behind to grab his hand, pulling him near. He wordlessly obeyed, humoring her as always.

On one of those occasions, he leaned in closer than necessary and after she had shown him what had apparently been "the best thing ever," she realized his proximity. She tried to turn but only made her bottom press against his upper thighs. Recollections swarmed. His hands came up to still her hips before she riled up more than just the skirt of her dress.

"Hey," he said. She coyly glanced over her shoulder, enormous eyes blinking up at him—a blasted lock of hair in her mouth again. He carefully reached up and poked the strand, removing it from its perch. "Careful," he whispered, watching her slightly parted mouth.

She quickly muttered apologies and nearly shoved him back into his seat. She laughed nervously, picked up a knitting hoop and focused all her attention on it. In turn, and very slowly, Kakashi pulled out a scroll, hoping a good read would distract him from the attractive woman he was beholden to. From the woman he was stuck with.

But now her attention moved from the flowery hoop to the scroll in his hands. Her manicured fingers pressed into the cushiony seat between them as she scooted closer.

"Proverbs written by Hagoromo Otsutsuki," he answered and she stared. "The Sage of Six Paths…"

Recognition filled her eyes. "The ghost grandpa from the war!"

Kakashi chuckled. "Naruto told you war stories, did he?"

"Hm-mm!" she nodded vigorously and peeked at the scroll in his hands. "He wrote this? It must be ancient."

"This is an old copy. The original scriptures are long gone."

"Amazing—wow! These characters are hard to read." Ayame squinted and leaned closer to the text, subsequently leaning closer to him. The word 'agony' crossed Kakashi's mind. "Let's see," she sang to herself. "Out of the…the… uh—"

"Abundance."

"—Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks!" She smiled triumphantly.

Impressed, Kakashi nodded. "The lessons are going well, then."

Ayame laughed, scratching the back of her head in a very Naruto-like manner. "Shikamaru-kun is a great teacher. It's me who isn't the best student."

"Just the same. It's not easy to read Hagoromo's teachings." The curriculum he and Shikamaru decided on was simple but thorough. Kakashi wanted to implement the principles of the Sage of Six Paths in civilian and shinobi studies. The proverbs were enlightening. Shikamaru agreed. Unfortunately, Kakashi himself hadn't been able to tutor her as he had initially promised. But he could acknowledge her growth.

Ayame glowed under the weight of his praise and Kakashi felt hot under his clothes. Instead of scooting closer to him as he hoped, she returned her gaze to the hoop. A smile played at her mouth, showing her delight.

He felt somewhat disappointed but did not say anything. He held no strict expectations in receiving physical touch from her. Although, she had accustomed him to it. She even kissed his cheek yesterday. Perhaps now she was reluctant because of the marriage. She did not want him to assume she'd propose more than she modestly offered before—more than what their arranged marriage offered. More than he had taken on that night.

"You'll be the only man in my life and I'll be the only woman in yours…"

Kakashi wondered if she even knew what those words meant. But, he recognized, Ayame could be unexpectedly reticent and even shy. Patience, Hatake.

She dressed smartly today (a common thing she did when out of uniform). She called her dress a "travel outfit." It was one she hadn't utilized as she never left the village. It was a mid-length, green expedition dress with pockets at the chest and hips. Pockets, she had said, were a girl's best friend. Kakashi had found this funny for some reason and laughed. She had a matching bucket hat that tied under her chin. The skirt of the dress was loose-fitting, so if she had a curving abdomen, no one would know. She was beginning to favor looser clothing.

This was all well and good. But large clothing did not stop his blood from running hot. Kakashi forced his gaze from Ayame to the ancient scripture unfurled on his lap. Alone with Ayame for two weeks—God help him.

He would not last the day.


Ayame munched on baby carrots as Kakashi pressed a tiger sign to his lips and blew at a fire pit. Dry, wooden logs easily caught flames. She inspected the makeshift campsite. Fuko and Yugao set up tents. The tents were small and nondescript. You would have to bend at the knees to get into them. They were small in width as well; therefore, whoever shared the quarters would have to sleep very close to one another. Ayame tried not to think about it.

She turned to the two horses and rubbed a mare's snout. "I feel pretty useless right now."

The creature ignored her until Ayame offered some carrots with an open palm. The mare greedily ate the vegetables. Not to ignore the animal's counterpart, Ayame offered the other mare some and she giggled as the horse's lips and tongue tickled her palm.

"You two only want me for my snacks."

Obviously, the beautiful horses did not reply and Ayame sighed, facing the shinobi at work. The three were completely in their element, having created countless sites like this one before. Though, none of them wore their uniforms. Kakashi even forewent his mask. They were to carry on as civilians to avoid attention. Peculiarly, Kakashi's usual shock of hair was without volume and although his shirt was short sleeved, Ayame could not see his Anbu tattoo. Whatever was covering it was also covering his beauty mark and scar. He looked handsome but different—she supposed that was the point.

She was even supposed to call him 'Kumo' in front of others and their surname would be her father's. Ichiraku Kumo and Ayame—weird.

Kakashi glanced her way and waved. She lifted a hand and wiggled her fingers, once more feeling bashful. Since last night, she could not get the Pein story out of her head.

It…unsettled her that there was a possibility he loved her when the affair occurred. The whole mess could have been avoided if he had said something. More so, he was not bringing it up on his own, privately between them, and it made her think perhaps his story was just a tale to placate the wedding guests. She wanted to ask him but was not sure how to. He had a habit of making announcements without elaborations and expecting everyone to deal with it. How could she ask him? Is it true you loved me for over two years and that was why you followed me home?

It was not right.

Ayame deflated. How would she bring that up? They had yet to speak or clarify the events of that night (it was almost taboo). Neither did they know one another very well. The marriage had not changed things. He was nice, she was nice. One made a joke, the other laughed.

Hand now empty of carrots, the mare nudged it, bringing her back from her thoughts.

"Sorry," Ayame said, "I'm all out." She rubbed its snout instead, hoping to satisfy it like this.

A bigger hand appeared and stroked alongside hers. Her heart galloped within her, feeling the hand's owner close to her side. The muscled arm was scored with superficial scars from years of being a ninja and one of the greatest fighters the shinobi world had ever seen.

"Would you like to catch some fish? There's a stream nearby."

Ayame turned to her husband, interest peeked. "Could we?"

"Come."

The stream was close but the ninja created clones to watch over the campsite. Ayame wondered out loud if they should make a clone of her and Fuko humored her. The water was clear and only came up to her mid-calves. Pods of fish swam with the current, avoiding their ankles.

"It's so cold!" she cried, jumping around. Water splashed. The climate became less cold the more west they traveled, but it was still mid-spring and the sun was dying across the sky.

"Ayame-sama!" Fuko laughed, hopping away from her to avoid getting his clothes wet. To Ayame's surprise, the man was younger than she was and had eyes like Hinata under a pair of dark shades. He was a bulky fellow, taller than even Raiden and had spiky red hair that reminded her of chili peppers.

The men rolled up their pantlegs while the women donned shorter bottoms. She knew this dress would come in handy! Yugao looked fabulous in regular clothes—especially those shorts that emphasized her thigh muscles. She was a beauty—most kunoichi were.

"You wuss," Yugao muttered at Fuko. Ayame watched in awe as she, in less than a second, shot one hand down into the water and pulled out a small trout.

Ayame clapped vigorously. "Amazing, Yugao-san! Okay! My turn!"

She was determined! Seeing a lone fish pass between her legs, Ayame squealed as she reached down as fast as she could to grab it. She did not even graze a fin but she had managed to splash water all over herself. She shivered, gaping as her almost-victim swam away. It would live to see another day.

"I don't think I can do this."

Kakashi strode to her side. "Anticipate their moves."

Ayame frowned. What did that even mean?

He smirked. "Here," and then he was wrapping his arms around her body, aligning his hands with hers. She nearly forgot to breathe as he bent forward, guiding her downwards. The right side of his body cocooned the left side of hers. Her one leg was straddled by both of his as his abs enclosed over her low back, instantly warming her body temperature. It was not cold anymore.

He was talking as he dipped their hands together into the water but she had no idea what he was going on about. Ayame pursed her lips and tried not to press into the warmth he was providing. Slow down, mama bear. All she had to do was turn her face to the left and she could nuzzle his neck—

"Now!"

She jumped to attention when he forced her hands into a clasp around a trout. She screamed as it wiggled within their grasp and out of the water within their hands.

"Don't let go—gently now." Kakashi led her towards the edge of the stream, hands hovering over hers the entire time, his upper thighs touching her bottom. She held her breath. Fuko and Yugao waited with a basket already full of flapping trout.

When the fish was out of Ayame's hands, she released a large exhale. Not only was the slimy fish out of her grasp, but Kakashi returned her personal space.

Yugao smirked. "We won." Fuko looked guilty at her words.

Ayame's mouth parted in a light gasp and she sharply turned to Kakashi. "We have to catch more!"

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head. "Well, they caught more than enough for the four of us. The sun is almost gone, too…"

She furrowed her brows. "Okay, but on our way home we have to win."

Ayame tried to hide her smile as Kakashi passed Yugao a glare. She did not realize until yesterday that Kakashi and Yugao had such a relationship. It reminded Ayame of how she and Raiden acted with one another. At the thought of him, she tried not to sadden or blurt out a question at Kakashi.

Back at the site, they finished dinner as the sun completely disappeared from the sky and Ayame could see nothing but stars and a barely full moon. Fuko and Yugao lightly chatted with one another when Kakashi asked if she wanted to rest.

She agreed, realizing how tired she was from traveling all day. She was easily fatigued nowadays.

Kakashi gave her a head start into the tent so she could change. She felt odd not bathing but she supposed Kakashi and Naruto went days without the commodity when they were on long missions.

When she secured the last button, she gave Kakashi the all clear. The entrance of the tent zipped down. He had changed into black sweatpants and a marron tank. He got on his hands and knees to enter the small tent. She blushed. They were alone once again, but this time they had no choice but to share close quarters. At least they had separate sleeping rolls this time.

Catching her gaze, Kakashi finished zipping the tent closed. He sat on his roll and rummaged through his pack. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, thank you." He asked this every day.

She crawled into her sleeping bag, feeling silly in her white, frilly pajamas. Before she finished maneuvering in, Kakashi began to peel a layer of skin from his left bicep, revealing the Anbu summoning mark. He put the light film of skin inside a tin case and then reached for the spot where his beauty mark should be.

She watched with wide eyes as slowly, but surely, the man transformed back into the image she associated him with. He winced when the last piece of film caught on some of his eyebrow hair.

"Do you wear those when you travel?" She could not help but ask.

He shrugged, putting the case away, back towards her. "Depends on the mission."

She smiled bitterly. Was this a mission for him? Ayame looked down at her lap. That's right. Why was she forgetting this was not a real marriage? Today had been…so nice. But he was the Hokage and she was pregnant. She cared for him but who knew how he really felt? The story he had said…

She peeked at his back again. His had wide shoulders and lean muscles coming out to form powerful arms whose complete strength she did not know. She thought of how they surrounded her when fishing. His hands were rough-skinned and undeniably deadly, yet he had led hers gently through the stream. She wondered why he hid his face. He really was handsome—she blushed. Next to him, she felt quite ordinary.

Kakashi began to rub his neck. This reminded Ayame of Sakura scolding him for not taking care of himself—when she had been excited for her sensei's engagement.

Pitying the Hokage of her village, Ayame removed her legs from the confines of her sleeping bag and scooted towards him on her knees.

"I—I may not be a medical ninja, but I can do this." She sounded braver than she felt. He curiously glanced over his shoulder. Carefully, she placed her hands on his back and caressed the tight flesh close to his neck. "Can—can I?"

Kakashi eyed her without a response. She attempted a squeeze anyway, massaging. His gaze darkened before he faced away again. She gave another squeeze despite his silence. When he sighed in relaxation, her heart soared. He tilted his head to the right, hinting where he needed her touch. She happily obliged.

"Thanks—right there."

She felt flushed. "Okay, Kakashi-san."

She could do this. He had already done so much for her. She concentrated on the areas that felt like knots, rubbing them out as best as she could.

He was so sturdy. She was a ribbon in the wind compared to him. Kakashi was not bulky like Fuko but every limb and muscle were wound tight. He was lean and in his prime, healthy and in control of every movement he made. It came with the profession, she supposed. Bodily control mattered during life and death situations. Discipline of movement and demeanor were his most attractive qualities.

On that fateful night of entangled limbs and intimate presses, it had not only been a little crush that persuaded her to give in. Kakashi could probably seduce a corpse if he looked at it the way he had looked at her that night. The way he looked at her still—but she wasn't sure if she was ready for that again.

This was enough. Being near him, touching him innocently, inhaling his scent and having enlightening conversations. But even so—how lovely it was that a man such as this had made love to her. His fingers had once dragged across her nudity, his mouth often following behind, kissing, and even biting. It had been a whirlwind of gentleness intermingling with roughness, a conglomerate of pain on the outskirts of pleasure—of silent adoration hoping to be heard with the language of touch.

Memories got the best of Ayame. She subconsciously lessened the massaging until her touch turned into soft caresses. Up, down, the length of his spine—down his arms and then back up. Repeat.

If he had…really loved her long before the affair, why had he not said anything? Why had he not acted on those feelings when she had been so obviously crazy about him? If he had spoken up, they could have done everything correctly…

If he had not drunk very much sake, as he previously admitted, and was of sober and sound mind—in control—why did he do it? Was it because he loved her but did not know how to say it? She was not even sure if she had loved him then—but she loved him now. Right? She could not help it with all that had happened and all that he had done for her and continued to do.

"Ayame?"

She stopped caressing him, hands on his biceps. Had she not been worthy enough to be confessed to? It took a night of—

He turned to her. She intently gazed at him, wanting to know his thoughts—needing to understand what it was they had, sans village, sans child. A child they did not really talk about.

Kakashi reached for her.

Ayame reveled in the way his fingertips slid across her cheek to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. He lowered his palm to rest on her neck, thumb pressing down on her bottom lip, swiping. It reminded her of yesterday in the stairwell. But now there was no lipstick to be mindful of and her flesh molded and spread underneath his touch.

He seemed content there with her in the small tent, not at all like a man acting on duty alone. She came closer, knees shuffling over their sleeping bags. Her eyes closed at his intensifying dark gaze. Her nimble fingers reached up to gently rest on his wrist.

She whispered his name. It was…the way he looked at her still.

When his mouth softly touched hers, it was as if the point of contact was warm water, slowly spreading throughout her entire body. The sensation ran hotter across her abdomen and lower. He placed more pressure into the kiss, fully forming their lips together. Her hands slid to hold his forearm.

Oh this was nothing like the kisses from before.

If he kissed her like this, she thought, he had to care. Why stay silent about it? Why force a marriage? Why could it not be a real marriage, despite their turbulent beginning? If he cared for her during all this time, then he wasn't really forcing himself to be with her. He wanted this. Just as much as she did, even if—even if he had been quiet about it.

Kakashi slightly parted from the chaste kiss. Her lashes fluttered open. His gaze held hers, thumb caressing her lip again.

"Ayame…" His voice was deeper than usual and her thighs pressed together.

She thought, He will say it. He will say he loves me. She bit her lip, heart racing as his other hand came up to her waist, tugging her forward. Her hands landed on his ribs. Oh how close she was to him—oh how wonderful he smelled. She leaned her breasts into his chest as he lowered his mouth over hers into another gentle kiss. Her mind reeled as his arms surrounded her and held her close.

He gave her another chaste kiss and then another. Between more kisses that were beginning to trail off towards her jawline, he mumbled—"Would you like a physical relationship?"—and continued down her neck, his mouth grazing up and down the slim column.

Ayame stiffened within his arms. The warm feeling he'd started turned ice cold. As soon as she stiffened, he stopped and slowly, slowly pulled his mouth away.

"What?" She barely managed to speak, mind somewhat in a fog.

He met her gaze, breath a tad askew. He did not repeat the question. And then she felt it: utter, vile disappointment. Her throat constricted tightly and her eyes became very wet, very quickly.

Kakashi frowned and made to touch her face. She flinched quite obviously from his touch, separating from him completely. His hands fell to his sides and she was horrified with herself.

How could she be so stupid? It was not his fault, she tried to reason quickly with herself as her thoughts grew more turbulent—he never promised her love. She just thought—because they got on so well and that damned story—

She sat on her heels and frantically looked around the small tent, suddenly feeling suffocated. His entire presence became an avalanche and if she did not escape—she would die, frozen forever in embarrassment. Her heart raced, but now it was not in pleasure but in undiluted disillusionment.

He wanted to do it all over again without talking about it?

A hard sob rushed out of her mouth and his hands were on her again, asking her what was wrong—he was always asking if she was okay. His concern and his kisses all confused her and she needed to get away.

"No!" she cried. She slapped his arms away and continued to swat her hands because suddenly she could not stop. The more she tried to make sense of that fateful night, the harder she thrashed at his chest and his arms and his face—


Yugao and Fuko watched as the Daishukujo came fumbling out of the tent. She crawled out with a pillow, raging. The Hokage, face bare, also started to come out but she tried to hit him with the pillow so he had no choice but to retreat back inside.

"Ayame—wait—"

"—stupid man!"

"Let me explain!"

He tried to exit once more but she swung the pillow again. She missed, of course, but the force of the swing had clumps of cotton falling out.

"Give me your pillow!" she demanded.

Yugao and Fuko should have been shocked that Konoha's number one couple was fighting, but as it was, these two were accustomed to such squabbles. As the individual guards to both, they were privy to each and every one of the couple's private moments, including the tidbit about the baby. But would they say anything? Nope. On pain of death, actually.

"I said. Give. It!" She tried to go back in the tent, heart set on pillowing the man to death but Kakashi obstructed her entrance by coming out and standing. He tried to grab the deflated pillowcase from her but that only made her rage more.

"Don't touch me!" She shouted and whipped the pillowcase at him. The smack against his forearm was loud and both Anbu members sucked in through their teeth. Ayame-sama was a little violent—it was not her fault. Most Konoha women were like this. Everyone blamed it on the summer heat. And the men. It did not help that her hormones were at irregular levels. With the baby and all. Which they knew about.

Annoyed, Kakashi snatched the case from Ayame and held it out of her reach when she went for it. "Will you listen?"

"No!" She jumped, not making any progress. "Give it!"

Fuko nudged Yugao. "Ten ryo he'll give it back."

Yugao rolled her eyes. "Not much of a bet if the other party agrees with you."

When Ayame let out a frustrated cry, Kakashi's eyes widened and almost immediately lowered the empty pillowcase.

"Don't cry—" he was interrupted when she snatched the pillowcase and threw it at his face. And then she ran back into the tent.

"Don't come in here!" she shouted and haphazardly zipped the entrance closed. Loud sobs ensued.

As the pillowcase slowly, slowly slid off the Hokage's face and onto the ground, the man turned to them. Still a newbie, Fuko quickly snapped his gaze to the fire pit and stared very intensely at the flames. Yugao stared blankly back at her superior. Obviously, it was Kakashi's fault. She narrowed her eyes at him.

Freakin' Konoha men.

Kakashi glared back. "Yugao, share the tent with her. I'll take yours."

"Got it," she mumbled, standing with her male counterpart.

Fuko fumbled beside her and put out the fire. "Uh, what about…me?"

Kakashi smiled that horrible smile with the crinkles. "Outside."

"Yes, sir..."


Approaching Nami no Kuni, they stopped in consideration of a large party of people surrounding an oversized white-tarp wagon by the roadside. A dark-skinned man in travelers clothing and hoop earrings waved them over, smiling.

Ayame and Yugao rode inside the carriage while Kakashi and Fuko sat out front with the horses. Kakashi had tried to enter the carriage with his wife earlier in the morning, but she stated to the air that she would ride in the front. Then he, very maturely, also stated to the air that he would ride in the front. When she ignored him but did not make to sit in the front, Kakashi sighed and switched places with Yugao.

Oncoming the wagon, Kakashi tapped behind him. "Yugao." The Anbu slid a miniature window open near his neck.

"All have average chakra levels except the one sitting, surrounded by women. He is shinobi. He…is dying."

Kakashi's eyes swept the scene before him. A few men similarly dressed as the first stood around the large wagon, hands on their hips and exasperated. They had somehow managed to get the back wheels stuck in a muddy slope. Their four horses looked none too happy, huffing and puffing on higher ground. To the side, there were five women with excessive amounts of bangles on their forearms and ankles. One carried a small child on her hip and another was heavily pregnant. The other three attended to the man Yugao pointed out as shinobi. He looked feverish and they hovered close. The entire left side of his body was in bandages.

Fuko pulled the reins to a stop and the horses shook their manes in irritation. The traveler had a wide grin, lyre attached to his back. Traveling musicians, Kakashi deducted. Off to the side, where the women were, many miscellaneous objects like boxes and crates held multiple things. Some of those things were instruments and an assortment of cloths. They must have emptied the wagon in hopes of making it weigh less.

"Pardon, gentlemen. I do not mean to disturb yer travels but my friends and I could use some help, you see." The man's good nature and charisma was palpable.

Kakashi nodded. "We shall give it."

The instrumentalist's grin expanded. "Wonderful! My name is Akira and this is my whole family. We are traveling musicians, you see." He called them over and they came, demeanors polite and curious. One woman stayed with the feverish man, helping him sip water. Kakashi noticed a black, rectangular marking peeking out of the bandages on the man's shoulder. "Well, this is not all of us," Akira continued, "The other two wagons went ahead, you see. It wouldn't do to keep our clients waiting. We have places to be, people to please."

A big, hefty musician walked up next to Akira, rubbing a shoulder, voice deep. "I'm Fotoga. Hopefully the others manage this afternoon's performance. Ever since they built the Great Naruto Bridge, tourists come to Nami for the best vacations. That means the best entertainment. We get booked here six to ten times a year."

Akira nodded, thoughtful. "And they'll get the best, dear brother—as soon as we get these wheels out of the mud. Must've rained weeks ago. Last time I let you man the horses, Fotoga." The group chorused mumbles of agreement, some snickering at their comrade's embarrassment. Akira grinned up at Kakashi and Fuko. "I imagine you folks are tourists, too? The beaches here are breathtaking, you see."

Kakashi and Fuko offered polite smiles as they climbed down. They shook some of the men's hands and nodded in acknowledgement at the rest of the entourage. "Kumo. Good to meet you. This is Fuko. We're traveling with our wives."

"Honeymoon, perhaps?" the woman with the child chimed in, glancing at the simple carriage. She adjusted the child on her hip, bangles clinking.

Before Fuko could answer, Ayame rushed out of the carriage with Yugao hot on her heels. Yugao barley had time to hold Ayame's hair back as she bent forward and vomited.

"Urgh."

Akira scrunched his nose. "Oh dear."

Ayame blinked towards the man and his astounded family. "I've never met musicians before," she offered, covering her mouth and it was incredibly adorable. Kakashi couldn't help the slight upward turn of his lips, despite their current estrangement.

They all laughed. Akira said, "And we've never been greeted so unforgettably, you see."

Ayame blushed and Yugao rubbed her back, smiling sympathetically.


Having pushed the large wagon out of the muddy ditch—nothing a little chakra couldn't do—the musicians offered to feed their horses in gratitude. They also busied themselves putting everything they had taken out back into the wagon.

"You two must be shinobi," the hefty musician commented, handing Fuko and Kakashi water bottles. "With you lifting, we barely strained ourselves!"

Fuko nodded. "We're from Konoha. It's nice to get away."

The man's eyes widened in admiration. "Konoha, you say? Wonderful place, I hear."

The heavily pregnant woman walked up to Fotoga and he wrapped an arm around her. She said, "Oh, I'd love to perform there."

Kakashi smiled. "I'll put in a good word with the Hokage."

The two musicians grinned and continued to animatedly chat with Fuko as Kakashi politely excused himself in guise of asking his wife something. He wanted to get a good look at the feverish shinobi. He wore no Hitai-ate.

They had already put the man in the wagon, and Kakashi went to a woman carrying a crate. "Allow me," he said and took the crate from her. She blushed and hurried off to get something else. Kakashi jumped onto the back of the wagon and moved the white flap, entering. It was roomy and comfortably lived in. They were true nomadic musicians.

"Hello," he greeted towards the corner of the wagon. The feverish man and the woman who had not left his side looked up at him. She was unwinding the bandages on his arm. It was infected but Kakashi could clearly see the rest of the rectangular tattoo. Just like Raiden's: A summoning mark.

She smiled and waved towards the corner. "Right there is fine. Thank you for your help, sir."

"Of course," Kakashi nodded towards them before placing the crate down and taking his leave.

He went around the wagon. He spotted Akira and the woman who held the child earlier charismatically chatting with Ayame and Yugao. Ayame sipped water and then coughed, unable to resist laughing at what Akira was going on about. He proceeded to take out a mini djembe out of his satchel and held it out to Ayame. She gave the water to Yugao and excitedly grabbed the small drum. She hooked it under arm and to Kakashi's surprise, began to play it quite well.

"Aya-chan, amazing!" Akira laughed, clapping along to the simple tempo Ayame set.

If another man called her 'Aya-chan,' Kakashi was not sure what he would do. He narrowed his eyes as he approached them. He did not know she knew how to play a drum. He did not know many things about her.

"Ayame."

She glanced at him along with her new friends. "Hm!" She turned her head away from him and stopped drumming.

Akira raised his eyebrows, intrigued. "Oh, this one is yer new husband, Aya-chan?"

Eyes closed and chin pointed up and away from Kakashi, she answered, "Yes. He is Ichiraku Kumo."

Akira whistled. "Already you quarrel?"

She crossed her arms, unwilling to meet her husband's gaze. Kakashi frowned. "That's right," she mumbled. Yugao glared at Kakashi. The traveling woman glanced between all of them.

Akira frowned, surveying the situation. "Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Perhaps he does not satisfy you?"

Ayame jolted, taken aback at the musician's bravado. Mostly annoyed, Kakashi dug his hands in his pockets. "That's not a problem."

Akira laughed along with his female counterpart. "He is so honest." He gestured to Ayame as if presenting a grand creature. "Yet she is upset, you see. What do you say to this, Kumo-san?"

"It isn't a problem." Why was Kakashi entertaining this situation? Her anger at him was frustrating, too. She was not looking at him again—heavens, she was ignoring him. Again. He did not like this side of her. He rather she scream and hoot but not this. He did not like it and he had a growing suspicion she knew it.

"Right, anata?" he added, gaze directed towards his wife.

Ayame sweetly smiled at Kakashi. "Oh yes. He's an animal with clothes on."

Both men startled at her words. The women covered their mouths, trying not to laugh. Akira then clasped his hands on his cheeks, loving the growing drama. "She is honest too!"

"He likes it when I call him sensei."

Akira gasped and looked at him, eyes narrowing in judgement. "I suppose we all have our preferences."

Kakashi narrowed his eyes at Ayame. Did she really want to play this game? Kakashi slumped his shoulders and closed his eyes, as if utterly defeated. "She hits me."

Now Akira covered his mouth. "No?"

"Yes."

"Aya-chan, that is no good! Even if he is an animal!"

Kakashi quickly opened his eyes and grabbed the djembe flying towards his head. She was livid. He smirked as she stomped away, grumbling insults all the way until she climbed back into the carriage. Yugao followed after her.

"That is quite the lady you have," Akira said, nodding in approval, man to man. The female musician rolled her eyes and walked away towards where her toddler played with the others.

"Thank you. She is with child," Kakashi admitted.

"Ah yes, yes. I see."

Kakashi smiled, starting to enjoy Akira's flamboyant personality. He handed the djembe back to him and gestured towards the carriage. "Sorry about this."

Akira laughed, returning the small instrument into his satchel. "It is fine! My caravan has managed to salvage our third wagon, thanks to you and your friend. Truly we thank you."

"You're welcome. You said earlier you'll be traveling to Nami as well."

"Yes! Aya-chan said you'd be staying at the Salt and Pepper Inn. It is owned by our clients, you see. They have us come multiple times a year." Akira shrugged. "I'm sure if we ask nicely they'll let you and yer friends join us."

Kakashi nodded. "We will look forward to it then."


Finally, they crossed the Great Naruto Bridge and made it to the coastal inn. Indeed, it was beautiful. It had a classic ryokan appearance and was right near the coast. They were welcomed happily by the owners, whom Kakashi imagined also employed the musicians from earlier. They were an elderly couple.

As soon they were led to their room, Fuko whistled.

Tsunade had outdone herself, Kakashi realized upon entering the room. The shoji doors that made up the outer wall of the rooms were made from glass instead of paper. The clear view overlooked the engawa and the coast. The view was spectacular—palm trees, sand gardens, a downward slope that spread out into a private shore. To the far left, a peninsula of green mountains curved into a crescent moon. And the sea—it was so blue.

The fact that the most comfortable looking couch, low on the ground, curved around the room so anybody could simply rest and watch the sunset was purely an aesthetic bonus.

Beside them, Yugao was also impressed. "Whoa."

Ayame gasped, delighted, momentarily forgetting her ire with him. She hurried to the glass doors and stared, wide eyed, into the distance. "I love it!" she exclaimed and the elderly innkeepers laughed.

"We are glad you think so," the man said and then they both bowed deeply. "We hope the Hokage and his new bride have a wonderful stay."

Kakashi raised a brow. "It seems Tsunade-sama was very forthcoming with you."

The elderly couple straightened and grinned. "Oh, yes," the wife said. "But don't worry. Your secret is safe with us. Tsunade-chan was clear about that, Kumo-san."

Kakashi nodded and gave a bow of his own. Yugao and Fuko followed suit as Ayame hurried to do so as well. "We will be relying on you these two weeks, then."

After the innkeepers left and had their employees bring their things, Kakashi and Ayame silently entered the room they would be sharing. The bed was huge and at the foot of it was a chest. The theme of the room was white seashells. How ingenious.

To the side was a door which probably led to a bathroom and a small couch with seashell pillows sat against the wall. Kakashi glared at it. He said, "I'm not sleeping on that couch."

Ayame huffed. "I'm sure the floor will suit your needs just fine."

"I don't think so."

"I'm not sleeping with you. Maybe Yugao-san can sleep here with me and you could—"

"Ayame, no. We can't do that to them." Yugao and Fuko were the two people in Konoha that were most privy to their private life but Kakashi refused to inconvenience them more than they already had.

She must have understood because she frowned but did not try to fight him. "What do you suggest?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her weight made her sink into the mattress three or four inches. He most definitely was not sleeping on the couch.

Kakashi walked around to the other side. Near the headboard were a ridiculous amount of unnecessary pillows. He grabbed a few and tossed them in the middle of the lofty bed.

"We could…build a fort?" They were behaving like children. Immature, shameless, incurably prideful children.

Meeting his gaze from across the room, hers narrowed in contemplation.

"Fine."

"Fine."


She was restless.

After dinner, the four of them made their way back to their rooms. She was exhausted. Kakashi said he would be going out for a bit before he disappeared and Ayame took the opportunity to take a nice, hot bath and get ready for bed.

This place was wonderful and the commodities were endless. But Kakashi was right. Even though they were upset at one another, they couldn't put Fuko or Yugao in the middle of it. It was not fair to them. It was hard not to notice the awkward atmosphere in the dining hall between everyone.

Making up her mind, Ayame got out of the bath and changed into a fluffy blue yukata, cutesy of the inn.

She walked out into the living room and spotted Yugao lounged out on the couch, reading one of many magazines on the coffee table. They missed the sunset during dinner but the stars in the sky were still a sight to behold. She admired the view quietly for a few moments before she remembered why she walked into the living space.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Yugao-san." And she really was. The kunoichi worked so much and had been extra attentive to her since last night. Ayame didn't want to annoy the beautiful woman with frivolous problems.

Yugao smiled up at her and closed the magazine, sitting up. "Anything for you, Daishukujo-sama."

Ayame blushed and looked at her pink toenails. "I'm sorry about making a scene last night with the Hokage." And all throughout today.

When she looked back up at the kunoichi, she was laughing. "Oh no no no. You have nothing to apologize for. It's completely his fault."

After a moment of pause, Ayame nodded slowly.

Yugao stood and walked over to her, putting her hands on her shoulders. "Can I be honest with you, Daishukujo-sama?"

"Oh, yes. Please."

"Kakashi-sama can be a little…emotionally inept when it comes to you."

Ayame stared. She'd never seen Yugao be so verbal nor did she realize others were aware of how Kakashi behaved around her. It was a little amazing, especially since Yugao was obviously taking Ayame's side. The woman had put up with her crying all last night.

"What should I do?" Ayame asked, not able to help herself. She needed advice and if she could not get it from Yumi, she would ask Yugao. She seemed to know Kakashi well enough. She had called him 'senpai' at the wedding.

Yugao crossed her arms, expression thoughtful. "Well, he's a man. It's pretty easy to get back at them for crossing a line."

"Get back at him?"

Yugao nodded, hands on her hips. "That's right, Ayame-sama. Get back at him. He's no longer your Hokage. He's your husband."

Ideas swelled and formed in Ayame's eyes. Could she? Would she?

"Um, Yugao-san. I may…I will need some help."

Yugao smirked and Ayame tried not to become too concerned at the kunoichi's devious expression.


The flower that smiles to-day

To-morrow dies;

All that we wish to stay

Tempts and then flies.

What is this world's delight?

Lightening that mocks the night,

Brief even as bright.

-Percy B. Shelley, Stanza I of Mutability