Chapter 4: Dinner and Books
"As much as I adore being followed like an escapee mental patient, you really don't have to keep so close. I'm not going to do anything." Kakashi's tone was an even mixture of amusement, sarcasm, frustration, and honesty.
"What if I just happen to enjoy spending time with you, Senpai?" Yamato asked. He did actually have a nice afternoon and evening with Kakashi. He often felt as though, no matter how many years had gone by, he would never truly get a hold of the complex monsters that were social interactions. That happened to be a common trend among former ANBU Root members. Kakashi happened to be the only person Yamato knew he couldn't offend simply by being silent or blunt or otherwise 'inappropriate' as determined by those who were raised in love surrounded by family, friends, and/or dreams. He'd never dreamed as a child, he hadn't even understood the concept for years. Once he'd learned about Kakashi's past as well, he knew that his friend hadn't ever really dreamed either. He felt there was some connection between that and the way the two comfortable around each other in ways that even friends like Shikamaru and Chouji weren't.
"Well," Kakashi's voice jolted Yamato out of his musings. "I'm going home, you can come if you want. Might as well invite you in so I don't hurt you when you come check on me in the wee hours of the morning." Yamato blushed a little, he had been planning on setting his alarm for 1am to make sure Kakashi was actually sleeping; his depression often got worse when he wasn't sleeping.
"Do you admit that you won't be sleeping tonight?" May as well ask if he should plan on pulling an all-nighter as well.
"You need rest to keep up with Naruto. I promise I will sleep." Genuine concern followed by unadulterated sarcasm, pure Kakashi response.
They had arrived at Kakashi's apartment building by now and the silver-haired man was watching the mokuton user for a response. Yamato considered his options. He could go home and sleep in his own bed in his own perfectly orderly apartment, but knew he would wake up way too early anyway worrying. He sighed, Kakashi did have a comfortable couch, and he didn't snore. He liked his routines, but the man in front of him was an important person and as much as Kakashi would never admit it, Yamato knew that sometimes just his presence was appreciated.
"You owe me dinner for paying at Ichiraku," was all the brunette said in response.
Yamato genuinely liked Kakashi's apartment. The man had lived there since his promotion to ANBU captain, so despite its owner claiming to be an unattached sort of person, the place had a significant home-y feel.
The first thing one noticed upon entering was the bookshelves. There were hundreds of them, they lined the walls, and most of them were filled. Yamato had been surprised on his first entrance there that only one single shelf near the door was dedicated to Icha Icha Paradise books. After spending some time in that apartment with Kakashi though, Yamato had become more shocked that outside of these walls Kakashi seemed so dedicated to the books. He'd never seen Kakashi even glance at them once he stepped through the door. The rest of the shelves were somewhat organized by the size of the volumes, smaller books on higher shelves, larger tomes on bottom shelves. The subjects ranged from world-wide literature classics to philosophy to guides on strategy to psychology to ethics to drama, and so forth. And all of them were most definitely highly qualified as Grade A mental distraction.
Once one got over the pure amount of books in the small space, one would realize that the space wasn't actually all too small. There was enough room for the most comfortable couch Yamato had ever sat on, complete with a soft, rumpled blanket at the foot and a couple fluffy pillows that had been stacked together on the opposite end. There was a worn-looking chair, which often held a coat, a shirt, or Kakashi's jounin vest and some pieces of empty parchment or unused scrolls. A cupboard held a small television with a few movies on the shelf underneath, but looked sadly unused gathering dust. A desk was set up in the corner by the window, a large book in a foreign language lying open next to a smaller language dictionary and a half-written-on scroll where Yamato could make out some translation notes. Kakashi might be considered a genius because of his impeccable ninja skills, but Yamato knew that there was much more genius to the man than just that.
Upon entering the apartment, both men removed their sandals and jounin vests. Kakashi's landed on the chair, while Yamato hung his up on the relatively empty coat rack. The silver haired man walked into the kitchen (where Yamato saw the toppling-over pile of clean dishes in the drying rack, apparently Kakashi's sink had recently reached its full line…) and Yamato turned away to grab the book he'd started on his last visit. It was probably the thinnest, smallest book that Kakashi owned, specifically why he had chosen that one when the other man had invited him to read and he hadn't wanted to be rude by refusing. The book, Of Mice and Men, had actually piqued Yamato's interest and he'd re-read the few chapters he made it through to be sure he hadn't missed anything. Now he was intrigued enough to continue it while Kakashi cooked.
Kakashi's cooking tended to be quite basic, but well done. Within about 20 minutes, the two sat on the mat by Kakashi's low table and were eating a delicious dinner of rice, miso soup, and a spicy sort of salad.
"This is good. I forget that you actually know how to cook." Yamato said, Kakashi's miso rivalled that of a lot of the fancier restaurants in the village. Both men also happened to share a taste for spicy food, so the salad was a much welcome fire on Yamato's tongue.
"Thanks, I think that was a compliment there somewhere," Kakashi shot a small half smirk/half genuine smile across the table. Yamato was amazed, as he often was, how much expression was hidden by Kakashi's mask. When they ate together like this, Kakashi let the mask stay down rather than eating quickly to keep the features hidden. The masklessness made Yamato much more apt to get lost in just watching the expressions change on Kakashi's face. He could see the hint of a dimple on the man's right cheek with a genuine smile, the scrunch of his nose with a sarcastic smirk, and the natural curve of his lips when he was thinking.
The man would be so much less confusing of a person if he didn't wear that mask, Yamato thought, a smirk blooming on his own face. He probably gets too much joy out of keeping people guessing though to consider the idea.
"Thinking of ways to steal my mask again, Tenzo?" Damn if that man couldn't read Yamato's mind.
"Nope, just wondering how long you could keep your students off you if you let them see the real smirk under there." Also true, Yamato had wondered that often and knew the young shinobi were dying to see what was so horribly disfiguring that their sensei had to hide most of his face. The thing was, though, that Kakashi wasn't disfigured; he was actually quite remarkably beautiful. Yamato also knew that his senpai couldn't allow himself to be beautiful because somehow that would mean actually facing himself. Which Yamato could most definitely understand wanting to hide from, seeing as he did that to himself more often than not. No way was he confronting his superior about that, despite their close friendship, there were some lines he didn't dare cross.
"Yeah, they would be a nightmare. I pulled it down to show them a second mask one time though, that was hilarious. You would have gotten a kick out of it," Kakashi laughed as he remembered back to the three innocent genin trying to see his true face.
"A second mask?! They must have been ready to kill you!" Yamato joined in Kakashi's laughter, thinking of Sakura's anger and Naruto's dumbfoundedness.
Still thinking about Kakashi's mask, Yamato put away the leftovers, washed the dishes, and put away the toppling pile of clean dishes he'd seen earlier. Kakashi perused his bookshelves, every so often picking up a book, flipping through a few pages, considering it, then ultimately placing it back on the shelf.
Yamato finished the dishes and settled back at the foot of the couch with his novella, he knew better than to rush Kakashi in choosing his evening entertainment. Finally Kakashi settled on one of the thicker, worn books that had the look of being well-read several times, Anna Karenina. He sat at the opposite end of the couch, getting comfortable with the stacked pillows against his back and stretching his long legs the length of the couch until his toes rested near Yamato's thigh.
Yamato looked up from his book and said nothing, but raised an eyebrow toward Kakashi. Kakashi's feet were well taken care of, so he wasn't offended by them or anything, it was just, well…. Kakashi had already absorbed himself in his book, so Yamato's eyebrow-question did no good. The brunette balled up the blanket he'd folded earlier and shifted so that his position mirrored Kakashi's, letting his own legs rest against the copy ninja's until his toes grazed Kakashi's thighs. This time it was Yamato's turn to focus on his book as he felt Kakashi's pointed gaze and eyebrow raise.
"I'm going to fall asleep soon anyway, figured I'd get comfortable," Yamato explained with a sigh when he could practically feel Kakashi's eye burning into him. The other man seemed to accept this and, keeping their positions, both men turned their focus back to their books.
Yamato fell asleep within the hour. Kakashi gingerly stood up and got another blanket from his bedroom, draping it over the sleeping man with a little smile playing on his lips.
"Thanks for spending time with me today, Tenzo. Maybe I just enjoy your company too." Kakashi pressed his lips gently to Yamato's forehead, careful not to wake him, and went back to his place on the couch. The warmth of Yamato's legs pressed close to his own, as well as the steady rhythm of his breathing, soon lulled Kakashi into sleep himself.