Standard Disclaimers: I do not own Naruto or any of the characters. I do own the ill-conceived mustache man but ya'll can have him if you want him.
Author's Note: This one went together kind of quick, but I'm finding myself with less time. Figured you'd all rather have something than nothing. Forgive me! Also – My Japanese is officially at Unit 2 (section 1) of Rosetta Stone. So, if Kakashi's endearment rings false, please let me know? Thanks!
Sometimes Kakashi wondered what other people thought about when they visited villages or towns outside of their own. Did they unconsciously tally up all the good and bad points of what they saw in some sort of mental notebook? Was there a scale to determine whether the produce in a strange town was better than that of home? If they saw a nice apartment building, did they grow envious if their own village had no equivalent?
Kakashi knew that comparison was one of the basic ways people made sense of the universe. However, in his case such conjecture simply had no place.
Only Konoha was Konoha.
So there was no comparison.
This town looked to be nice enough, as far as such things went. From the approach he could see that it was prosperous, well tended, and lazy in the way that bigger towns often got. He walked in through the fortified gates with Tsunade, mentally assessing the ways he could get in or out should the need present itself. It was almost too easy and he gave up after six. That wasn't even counting the number of trees stretching their branches over the walls as if in open invitation for a ninja like him to run across.
The gate guard, a man who was distinguishable only for the size and ill-conceived implementation of his mustache, asked them their business in a bored tone. It was almost offensive.
The way he eye-groped Tsunade while ignoring Kakashi's answer was most definitely offensive.
Neither ninja batted an eye, not even at the man's smile and not-so subtle queries about Tsunade's availability. She laughed at him, lowering her eyes demurely, and took Kakashi's arm. Kakashi bit back a yelp of pain when that hand unconsciously tightened in anger as the man licked his lips, shrugged a shoulder, and urged them on.
She let go of him the moment they were out of sight and a familiar scowl drove off the smile.
"Cheer up," Kakashi advised. "He might be on duty when it is time to leave."
"We can only hope," Tsunade sniffed.
"I'll admit, I'm a little surprised though," Kakashi continued, "I mean, aren't you used to that sort of thing by now? Why does it bother you?"
Admittedly, there was a part of him that was baiting her. But in a way, he was also truly curious. Tsunade was a force to be reckoned with and not only due to her status as a ninja. She was a very good looking woman. So much so that Shikaku, brilliant, practical, hen-pecked Shikaku, had called her the most beautiful kunoichi in the village.
As a result there was no doubt that she'd been dealing with rude, offensive, sexist, or just plain stupid men for most of her life. The oogling by the gate guard was nothing compared to the reaction she would have likely gotten in her usual form. Surely it must get rather tiring to get so angry over each and every rude comment?
"Because not every woman can defend themselves like I can," Tsunade said.
He raised a brow and nodded. That was interesting. He changed the subject, "Scenic route?"
"The happy couple goes sightseeing?" Tsunade retorted but was already reaching for his arm once more. In truth, they hadn't spent more than a half-hour working out their cover story. New couple, blah blah blah, travelling to see blah blah, and if anyone asked Kakashi's face had been burned in a freak baking accident.
(Well, that was what he planned to say. Unknown to Kakashi, Tsunade was planning to blame his mouth covering on horribly bad breath due to terrifying dental issues).
Getting a sense of the streets by strolling about only made sense. It was a good way to get a feel for the quality of patrols and map out some escapes at the same time. As they did so, Tsunade smiled sunnily at his side, playing the part of his companion easily enough. Occasionally he leaned in and pointed at this or that, feigning a protective and even supercilious nature while they exchanged quick observations.
So far, so good.
When they finally got to the Inn they'd scouted out they were greeted by a robust woman who gushed over them like a grandmother over new babies. She had /just/ the perfect room for them and /oh/ had they seen the theater down the road it was playing the most romantic drama.
Tsunade giggled and leaned her head against Kakashi. In turn, he slipped his arm around her waist in an easy, but affectionate, embrace. He immediately felt her stiffen. It wasn't so much that the babbling woman would have noticed. In fact, if Tsunade hadn't been so close, he might not have noticed either. Or caught that her breath caught on her next inhalation.
The innkeeper kept talking. Tsunade gave no additional signs that anything was wrong, but instead delicately probed about where a potential lab facility might be (ooh, what was that big building over by the garden?).
Kakashi mused for a moment while giving every sign of paying perfect attention to the conversation. The conclusion was there, but he found himself a little reluctant to acknowledge it.
But, yes. It probably had been a while since anyone had embraced Tsunade, hadn't it?
"Ah, I should probably take our packs to the room," he smiled gallantly at them both, "But don't let me interrupt. You keep talking, my Chīsana hana." He deftly got out of her strike range.
The innkeeper beamed at the term of affection, so freely and publically given. Tsunade was less pleased, but never missed a beat. "Okay," the newly-dubbed little flower said, "I promise I'll be up very soon, my husband."
This sweetness was punctuated by the sharp force with which she thrust her pack into his arms. Despite the threat of imminent injury, Kakashi was relieved. He'd rather deal with an angry Tsunade then a sad one any day.
And, though it was somewhat cowardly, he'd rather get away from her for a bit so he wouldn't have to remember how long it'd been since he'd been hugged either.
… Anko draping herself on him didn't count.