The chilly drizzle was enough to clear the streets, but not enough to deter me from my new mission. I headed straight for the Aburame residence.

How dare they just move on without him? I thought they were supposed to be supporting each other. How is that supportive? They're just forgetting about him.

I leapt quickly from rooftop to rooftop, feeling the tension seep out of my body as I sped along uninterrupted. The streets would have worked just as well, but I could move more freely this way.

There's no time to waste.

The bracing wind woke me up completely, blowing away the scent of the radiator and the fog of memories it brought with it.

I'm not going to forget about him.

I landed lightly in a tree behind Shibi's home before I remembered that I did not, in fact, have plans to meet with him today.

Now what?

I froze, scanning his windows thoroughly, then the yard, then his back porch. He was staring up at me from a chair on his porch. We locked eyes.

"Kakashi?"

"Yes."

"..."

"..."

We stared at each other for a moment before I accepted that the onus of conversation was on me, not him. I cleared my throat and continued.

"Are you alright? You uhm…weren't in group today. I came to check on you."

"I see. Well, here I am. I probably won't return to group. Please let Ena know."

That's not fair. Why should people like Rital feel comfortable there, while you're excluded?

"Ah."
"If that's all…?"

It's not! You can't just let people walk all over you like that.

He studied me carefully, as if trying to read my silence. The lines on his forehead creased in concern.

"It's a bit cold out today. Would you like to join me?"

He gestured to the table beside him. A bright red mug rested on it, steaming steadily next to a matching teapot.

"If you insist."

I dropped from the tree into his yard, finding myself in new territory.

It smells damp, like leaves and wet earth. That makes sense. The ambient noises are wind and the occasional passerby from the street in front of the residence. There are four different places someone could be hiding outside here, the bushes to the west, the bushes to the east, underneath the porch, and behind the tree I just fell from. I am detecting no human-sized chakra signatures from any of these locations. There are hundreds of pinpoint signatures spread at various vantage points, centering on Shibi. Beetles?

"I don't think I've ever been to your place before. It's nice."

"I can give you the tour if you'd like."

"Maybe some other time."

It's clear, I don't need a tour.

I took the seat beside him, the awkwardness of my unexpected intrusion settling heavily on my shoulders. He cleared his throat before he spoke.

"I'll be back in just a moment."

He rose slowly, and as he did hundreds of small, black beetles emerged from various hiding places in the yard and landed on him. They crawled swiftly out of sight, disappearing into his hair, up his sleeves, under his collar, and through the fold in his jacket. As soon as they vanished he stepped inside, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I guess he was letting them out for some exercise? Or are they a form of home security?

A few seconds later he returned with another mug. He set it on the table in front of me, filling it with steaming hot tea before taking his seat again.

"It smells lovely, thank you."

The scent of oolong mingled with the damp wood of the patio and the dusty petrichor of the surrounding yard. A slight breeze picked up, and I clasped the hot mug between my hands tightly. He took a deep drink from his own mug and exhaled visibly into the cool air. He stared out into the rain, pointedly avoiding looking in my direction. I pulled my mask down to take a quick sip before settling it back into place.

"It tastes lovely too. I apologize for the intrusion."

"It's no trouble. I wasn't busy."

The sound of the drizzle landing on the leaves around us and the warmth from the tea soothed me. The silence between us began to feel comfortable, more comfortable than any of the group meetings.

"Comfortable". That's a good word to describe him. Every movement he makes is so calm, it's easy to be comfortable around him.

We sipped in silence, watching the rain. The chair creaked once beneath him as he stretched, hands coming together to rest on his lap. The sound shocked me back to attention.

I hadn't realized that I had relaxed.

I once again asked him the question that I had come here to ask.

"Are you sure you won't be back in group next week?"

"I'm sure."

He turned towards me, searching my face for something. What it was, exactly, I couldn't tell. The bit of his face that was left exposed between his high collar and dark glasses was smooth and impassive.

There aren't many faces I can't read. His is one of them, though. It probably helps that he keeps so much of it covered.

He winced slightly, then continued.

"I don't really think that that's the place for me. It's not very…"

His peculiar, droning voice trailed off into silence, melting into the sound of the pattering rain. I finished off my tea, relishing the residual heat from the mug against my cool hands.

"Comfortable?"

"That's a word for it."

"Welcoming? Open?"

Safe?

"Those are good guesses. So you feel that way, too? I noticed that you hadn't shared."

He cocked his head to the side, gaze settling heavily on me. I waited for him to continue. When he finally did, his voice had softened considerably.

"I thought that you were just that much stronger than me at first, but now I wonder if you're affected the same way I am."

"Stronger? No, I couldn't even…"

I laughed, but there was no humor in it. He waited patiently for me to continue. I tried again to speak, not willing to disappoint my companion and not able to speak about anything weighty.

"You wanna know something funny?"

His eyebrows raised in question.

"I've been trying to share the same trivial story about finally properly frying an eggplant in group for weeks now. This week's meeting would have been the third attempt, had I stayed long enough to share."

His face warmed into a small smile, and he let out a quiet chuckle.

"Fried eggplant. That does sound good. Thanks for sharing."

"When I'm there, it seems like the hardest thing in the world to just talk about making dinner."

We listened to the rain for several more seconds before he spoke up again.

"For the record, I don't think that's trivial. We should celebrate small victories. Joy is such a precious, vulnerable thing. It's difficult to voice it to such callous ears."

"Is that why you don't share?"

He didn't answer. Instead he seemed to stiffen and sink into himself, hands folding and unfolding in his lap.

I overstepped. What is wrong with me today? First I show up unannounced and invade someone's backyard, then I demand they explain themselves to me. Geeze.

I set the mug back on the table, tracing the rim with my finger in my own kind of nervous fidget.

"I'm sorry I asked that, you don't have to answer. You've already been so accommodating, I really should be more considerate and-"

He reached out and placed his hand over mine, stilling its motion gently. I turned towards him, trying to catch his gaze, but he was staring out in front of him. Out to nowhere.

Warm. Even through my gloves, he's so warm.

"No, it's fine. No need to apologize. Yes, that may be why I don't share."

His hand withdrew, and he sighed with exhaustion.

"But if you don't mind, I think I'd like to rest now."

"Of course. Thanks for talking with me. I'll just get going."

He nodded, rising and gathering the mugs and pot. I turned back the way I came, poised to leap back into the tree and across the village to my place. I paused, pitching my voice to sound as nonchalant as I could manage before calling back to him.

"If you're really not coming back to group, then how about…see you next week?"

He cocked his head to the side and answered me in a voice that betrayed no emotion.

"You know where I'll be."

I left the same way I came, still absorbing the warmth of the tea and the warmth of his skin.