Kakashi inserted the tape into the cassette deck and waited with a pounding heart for the AC/DC song to finally be over. His leg jiggled impatiently under the table. There was a knock on the window. Next to the seated figure of Orochimaru stood Yamato, a jockey named "Tenzo", hosted the show "Pop Clap Radio" in the afternoon, put on all kinds of cheese and, unlike Sukea, was safe for work. He had finished his show hours ago, had desperately wanted to be there when Kakashi put on his mix. He stretched both thumbs in the air and gleamed at Kakashi, who smiled halfway back with pursed lips. The excitement in his bloodstream didn't allow him to be happy right now. Today the big day had come when he could prove himself, when he could show everyone out there what he was capable of – or when he acknowledged his existence as a failure and all his efforts of the past years turned out to be a pure waste of time and energy.
The guitar riff of Thunderstruck ran out, the drums were beaten one last time with gusto, Kakashi took a deep breath, tried to calm his pulse, and said with his practiced Sukea timbre, "Thunder, lightning, a true firework of emotions. Out for less than a year and the guys already made music history with this song. I hope everyone is still alive, still has enough power for one last, small ear candy. I usually end my rodeo of acoustic cravings with something calm, little cuddles for your eardrums, a necessary afterplay, because honestly, guys: Our blood pressure really needs to relax. But today I want to take the opportunity to show you something of me. This song is a passion project of mine, and I invested a lot of time in it, put all my energy and a few of my bodily fluids into it. It's something completely new, which has never been played before on Rock Hard Radio or anywhere else, and yes, admittedly it also falls a bit out of the concept of the show. It's hard, don't worry, I won't let you down, but a bit of soul has crept in. I call this creation 'Living for Paradise City'. It's a mix of Guns N' Roses and Stevie Wonder. I hope you like it." He started the tape, and the intro of Paradise City played, over which he purred at the end, "Sit back, feel a little nostalgic, I'll hear you again on Monday." Stevie Wonder sang the first lines of Living for the City. "Village of Sound, at 69.6, turn up, turn around."
With that, he switched off his microphone, the red "ON AIR" went out and he began to dance awkwardly on the chair to the beat of the music. A mixture of absolute bliss and indescribable pride came over him. On the display, he saw how many radios were currently switched to their frequency, and the digits didn't get fewer the further the song played. They listened to his mix and were not deterred by it. His heart literally exploded with joy, he could cry. They liked it. All the work had paid off.
The door opened and Orochimaru stood in the frame. He smiled broadly at Kakashi and nodded appreciatively.
Kakashi hung the headphones on the designated stand, unplugged them and the mix boomed loudly through the booth. Yamato pushed past Orochimaru and joined in Kakashi's little dance interlude. Orochimaru laughed in the background.
Yamato swung an arm around Kakashi's shoulder and bopped him twice. "Man, that thing sounds really awesome. Even I, as an old pop nose, like it. How did you come up with the idea of combining these two songs?"
"Aaaah," Kakashi said, trying his hand at a modest voice, even though he grinned from ear to ear. "Has to do with chords and tempo and all that sorta thing. I don't know, I just felt it."
"Stop low-balling, Kakashi, no one eats your pudency up," said Kabuto Yakushi, Orochimaru's representative and head of the show "Live Night". He was on his way to the second booth, where Kimimaro aka "Bone" was sitting and creating a smooth transition between the late and night shifts.
Kakashi clicked his tongue. "Yes, you're right. I'm great."
"Finally, he realizes," Yamato moaned and bopped Kakashi again. "Well then, have a nice evening, enjoy the little party."
"Why don't you come with us, Yamato?" asked Orochimaru in his usual swinging tone. "Or do you already have something planned?"
Yamato took his arm from Kakashi, shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and rocked up and down on the balls of his feet. "I won't be eighteen until next month, sir."
"And?" Orochimaru asked and for some reason Kakashi's hairs on the back of his neck stood up at that very moment. He ran his hand over it and looked around to see if someone had opened a door behind him or something. But there was no one there. At that time, they were alone in the building. "Just one or two beers, nothing more. We want to celebrate Kakashi's success, don't we?"
"Um, yeah, okay. A beer should work," Yamato conceded. He smiled and patted Kakashi on the shoulder. "If it's for you, dude, then gladly."
Kakashi returned Yamato's smile, but again there was this bitter feeling in his stomach that he still couldn't quite place. And today he couldn't blame it on too much vinegar on anything, because he was always frugal with that when cooking.
Orochimaru drove ahead in his Ford, Kakashi and Yamato followed him in the Beetle. Their destination was a small pub near the station, where Orochimaru planted the two boys at a table behind a pillar and went to the bar to get beer for the three of them.
Yamato took off his denim jacket, laid it with Kakashi's leather jacket on the fourth chair at their table, and leaned back with a heavy sigh. He snorted and slammed his fist against Kakashi's upper arm, who had rested his elbows on the table and now looked at Yamato questioningly. "What's up?"
"Be honest, are you really happy?"
Kakashi loosened his posture, leaned back as well and nodded slowly, again with that big grin on his face. "Wouldn't you be?"
"Eh," Yamato laughed and raised his hands, "I don't have that much talent, so I can't understand this feeling."
"Oh come on," Kakashi said encouragingly, "your music doesn't quite suit my taste, but Orochimaru wouldn't make you a jockey if you didn't have a good nose."
"Yeah, that's right. But the fact that he lets you take over primetime is acutally.. rad."
"Envious?" teased Kakashi.
"Mhh, a little maybe?" Yamato grinned back.
"Do you want to stay in radio or is this just a part-time job for you?" He just remembered that he didn't know anything about his co-worker, only that he, like him, was a student and very sociable.
Yamato groaned and now supported himself on the table. "I love music, but my parents would kick me out if I wanted to do something like that for the rest of my life. It's not real work for them, it's more of a paid hobby, you know?"
"Hm," Kakashi grumbled. It all sounded terribly familiar to him.
"And you?"
At that moment, Orochimaru came back, put three beer bottles and a shot glass on the table and sat down opposite the boys. "Cheers," they said, bumping their bottles together and taking a sip each. "What are you talking about?" Orochimaru asked curiously.
"Our future," Yamato answered, turning the bottle on the tabletop and looking at the label, lost in thought.
"Aha? Tell me. What do you want to do after school? But certainly not stay with VoS, right? Even if I would be very happy about it." Orochimaru laughed softly.
"No, sorry, Mister Hebikawa," Kakashi smiled shrewdly. "I want to go to Royal College of Music in London and study music production."
"I can well imagine that with your abilities. And you, Yamato?"
"I.. I don't know yet, sir," Yamato admitted. "I haven't made up my mind one hundred percent about what I want to do with my life."
"But you're almost in your last year, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, I can understand that the future can be scary. At your age, I wouldn't have thought I'd be the owner of a radio station either."
"What would you have thought instead?" asked Yamato.
Orochimaru looked as if he had disappeared briefly in a distant time, until he took a deep breath, smiled broadly and said, "Not here, that's for sure. But let's talk about something else." His yellow eyes were fixed on Kakashi. "After all, we're here for one reason and that's to celebrate your success. Drink." They followed his request. "Kakashi, you're gonna go far in your life, I can see that. Of course, the analysis of the reviews is still pending, but I am very confident."
"Thank you, sir," Kakashi nodded the compliment. "Really. You gave me a huge opportunity and I definitely appreciate that, believe me. I will never be able to forget that."
Orochimaru smiled. "Now come on, you two, keep drinking. We want to be cheerful, aye?"
Yamato and Kakashi exchanged a grin and quickly their first bottles were emptied. They chatted about music, their forecasts for the industry, and played their favorite song one after the other on the jukebox, only to piss on those of the others afterwards. Soon enough, Orochimaru was getting another round for them all, and although Kakashi was used to drinking, he already felt a pleasant buzz in his head in the middle of his second beer. When there was only a sediment left in this bottle, he excused himself to the toilet. On the way to the washrooms, he bumped into a table leg and two corners, he hit the urinal only with the utmost concentration and his reflection wobbled suspiciously, drew streaks, seemed to react with a delay to his movements. There was a dull beep on his eardrums, and he felt unexpectedly sick.
What was wrong with him? Two beers didn't knock him off his feet so quickly. With Obito, he drank a lot more, and there were also other substances involved. He threw a dash of cold water in his face, hoping to get rid of a little of the cotton wool around his skull. But it didn't help. Was it the lack of oxygen in here? The guests smoked in the pub, but he was used to even that, as he knew it from his father or Orochimaru. Again, he looked at his reflection, from which water and sweat were now dripping into the sink. Maybe it was the general lack of sleep and overexertion that just got him down.
He returned to their table, where there were already three fresh beer bottles. As if his ears were suddenly a thousand times more sensitive than before, he heard the soft crackling of the bursting carbon dioxide bubbles. He suppressed a belch, took his leather jacket from the chair and clumsily put his first arm into it.
"Kakashi, you're leaving?" asked Orochimaru.
"No, I.. I don't know, I'm not feeling so well right now. I need a bit of fresh air," Kakashi replied in a droning voice. He felt drunk, staggered to the exit of the pub and fell against the exterior wall on the narrow forecourt. A wet burp slipped from his throat, bringing a little stomach acid with it, which he spat out with a shudder. Honestly, what the hell–
Next to him, the door slammed shut. He looked up and recognized Orochimaru's leopard print shirt in the light of the streetlamp. "Kakashi," he said, coming to him with almost lurking steps. "What is wrong with you?"
"I don't know..", Kakashi replied, barely getting his jaws apart. "It's like I've drunk too much, but..."
Orochimaru laughed and this sound echoed loudly in Kakashi's skull, pushing the beeping into the background. "Two beers are already too much for you? I wouldn't have assessed you like that. I would have thought you were a little good-time boy."
Kakashi felt the desire to justify himself, put on a defiant face and blundered, "Actually, I can take more than that, but.. no idea..."
"Mhh, maybe you didn't eat enough today? Alcohol on an empty stomach is never a good idea." Orochimaru's voice sounded louder now, the leopard print came closer and an ice-cold hand, although he shouldn't even feel the temperature, rested on his stomach. "Do you eat healthy, Kakashi?" His fingers stroked his sweater, pressing harder against his muscles, which tensed and wanted to resist. "Oooh, I notice you are a fit one, huh?" The fingers slid deeper, dug under the thick cloth and stroked his quivering skin, which immediately answered with goosebumps. "Are you cold, Kakashi?" asked a loud, also icy voice in his brain, a rough thumb circled his navel, a palm rested on his stomach, tips of long, scrawny fingers pressed into his waist.
Kakashi gasped, trembled, clawed at the leopard skin in front of him. "Please..", he breathed tonelessly. His lungs were no longer able to breathe properly.
"What do you ask me for, Kakashi?" That sound of that eerie voice.. He closed his eyes. "Hmm?" The thumb drew larger circles, getting closer and closer to his jeans waistband, the rest of the hand followed slowly. "Do you want it too?" It was a murmur, biting like a gust of wind in the depths of winter, crawling down his back like a deadly shadow. His choppy breath thumped in time with his heartbeat, sweat poured out of all his pores, even though he wasn't even sweating.
A bang, laughter, voices, footsteps.
The hand on his stomach jerked back and Kakashi pushed the leopard skin out of his field of vision. He staggered to the entrance of the pub, where he was greeted by dense music and loud cigarette smoke. Supporting himself on each chair, he moved towards the pillar, which swayed sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, next to it stood a table, and on it lay Yamato's upper body. He was asleep. Probably. "Hey..", Kakashi said and pricked him between the ribs. "Hey, Yamato... It.. it's getting late, I'll take you home."
The body stirred gently, a hoarse voice grumbled something unintelligible.
"Yamato, come on.." Kakashi summoned up all the strength he was capable of, pulled Yamato's limp figure upright and put one of his arms around his neck. Groaning and with wobbly knees, he heaved him up, his feet hardly wanted to carry him. "Yamato, man, wake up.."
"Let me help you," said a voice somewhere next to him and again there was this coldness.
"No!" Kakashi exclaimed, unable to determine for himself what drove him to do so. "No.. I.. I can carry him."
"You can't, Kakashi," Orochimaru said in that typical singsong. Kakashi suppressed a retch. "I can see you struggling. Let me do it, I'll drive him."
Kakashi shouldered Yamato's unconscious body and hissed, "Don't you touch him!" He fought his way to the exit, leaving Orochimaru behind, who didn't dare to lift a finger in the face of the staring guests. Yamato's feet dragged across the floor. Again and again he slumped, Kakashi pulled him higher each time. He was absolutely not in the condition to perform at such a physical peak and drag Yamato's who knows how many kilos to his Beetle, but he had to. Some softly whispering voice near his neck vertebrae demanded this of him.
Activating his last reserves of strength, he made it to his car. He leaned Yamato against it, secured his hold, unlocked the passenger door and shoved him onto the seat. It took him a few attempts to straighten Yamato so that he didn't keep tipping over, but when he knew he was reasonably safe, he felt his way along the bonnet to the driver's side and got in. At least today that jalopy started immediately. He slapped his cheeks a few times, breathed as much oxygen into his lungs as they could hold, and drove off.
The centre lines on the streets drew strange waves, which he tried to follow. When he thought he was on a crossroad where someone could cut him from any side, he stopped, waited for a long time, constantly fearing that he wouldn't see another car. He thought a flashing neon sign was a blue light, panicked, drove way too slow or fast, but at some point he reached the border between Moss Side and Hulme, believed to see the four crescents rising into the night sky. When he stood halfway straight in a parking bay right in front of his apartment block, switched off the engine and took off the key, a knot in Kakashi's chest was loosened.
His blurred gaze wandered over to Yamato's face, which hung on the window, a little saliva ran from the corner of his mouth. Kakashi's hands in his lap began to tremble, he clenched them into fists, pressed the bits of his keys into his skin. The voice at his vertebrae whispered, "Well done." He still did not understand what he had done at all, but it had been well; if the voice said that, it had to be so.
Just as laboriously as he had loaded Yamato into his car before, he dragged him up the stairs into the shelter of his apartment and the silence of his room, where he dropped him onto his bed. Yamato stirred slightly, grumbled softly, but didn't wake up. Kakashi ran his fingers through his hair, rubbed the daze off his face and began to open Yamato's jeans to pull them off his legs. This turned out to be unexpectedly difficult because he only managed to move his hands in a coordinated manner to a limited extent. Strange. He had managed to drive them here, but now taking off both their pants – no, that was too much. He laughed snotting, only now noticed that he was crying. Why? He wiped the tears from his cheeks, pushed Yamato's bare legs all the way onto the mattress and stroked the drool mark on his chin. He felt bad because he had lied to him, but he just didn't know where he lived. They had never had anything to do with each other outside of this short time between their shifts. They went to different schools, came from different backgrounds, and yet Kakashi felt that their fates were intertwined tonight. They didn't know each other, and yet he had to be there for him tonight. That's what the voice demanded of him.
He also took off his sweat- and T-shirt and in his underpants squeezed next to Yamato, looking into his peaceful face one last time.
Kakashi's mind felt like it was swimming through thick mucus. Tough, sluggish, somehow sticky. He breathed in haltingly, his mouth burned with dryness. His tongue moved slightly, trying to wet the palate with moisture. He coughed. Next to him, something rumbled softly, he felt a movement on his arm, turned on his side and a pleasant scent rose to his nose. He sniffed his face closer to this good-smelling, soft object, took a deep breath.
Again, this object moved, and something pushed him backwards on his forehead.
He struck at it. "Stop that, Gai.."
"Kakashi..", a voice scratched his earcups.
The mucus in his brain determined that this was not Gai's voice. He opened his eyes and lifted his head out of the pillow. Fact. Those short, brown hairs, the sleepy, dark brown eyes didn't belong to Gai. They belonged to Yamato. With a jerk, he sat bolt upright in bed and looked around. He was in his room, half-naked, Yamato was lying next to him, wearing at least one more T-shirt than he was, based on the brightness he estimated that it was shortly after sunrise. Moaning, he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyeballs. "Fuuuuck.."
"Yeah..", Yamato murmured. He sounded just as shitty as Kakashi felt. "I'll tell ya, dude, I'll never touch alcohol again."
As if out of the blue, the memories of the previous evening flooded Kakashi's memory, washed away the mucus, and he spun around so fast that his spine cracked. He grimaced, massaged his side, and asked softly, "How much did you drink?" Actually, he knew the answer – two beers, just like him, but somehow.. He didn't know either. Perhaps he did not want to believe his own fears.
"Mhh..", Yamato growled, thoughtfully nibbling at a pimple crust on his upper arm. "I think.. two bottles, right? No idea. After the first I was so dim in my head and in the course of the second my brain stopped. Did I drink more than that?"
"No..", Kakashi mumbled. "Orochimaru had just brought the third round when I went to the toilet."
"You were on the toilet? I don't remember that."
"Yes.. After that, we left."
Suddenly, Yamato's head jerked up and his eyes wandered around Kakashi's room. "By the way.. Where are we actually?"
"With me," Kakashi snorted. "Or do you think I'll leave your unconscious ass lie somewhere?"
At this remark, Yamato's expression changed. He knitted his eyebrows a little and looked at Kakashi, who sat shirtless next to him and eyed him puzzled. "Uh... So.. Have.. Have we done anything? Because you have to know, I'm not gay or anything. Well, if you are, that's ok for me, honestly, I'm not judging you, but I'm honestly zero interested in something like that, you know?"
Kakashi's facial expression slipped. "Are you stupid, man?! I'm not a poof. I only brought you here, nothing more."
Yamato's eyes darted to Kakashi's bare back and up again, now his brows lifted meaningfully.
"Oh, yeah, I always sleep in my underpants."
"If you say so..", Yamato mumbled, struggled into a sitting position and yawned extensively. "I've never really drunk anything before. Does it always feel like that the next day? I've got the feeling that I could honk your room right now."
"If you were really pissed as a fart, yes, that's exactly how it is," Kakashi replied and chewed on his lower lip. "Listen..."
When Kakashi didn't speak any further, Yamato probed, "What? Did you indeed ravish me?" He moved his hips as if he wanted to check if his ass hurt.
Kakashi took a deep breath. "I didn't, but I think someone else wanted to."
"Are you shitting me?" laughed Yamato. "Who?"
"Orochimaru." It was far too uncomfortable to say that out loud. Something like that was simply not a topic for him. He also didn't want to admit that Orochimaru had touched him. How did that come across? He never wanted to be seen as a poof by anyone, and admitting that a man had touched him on the stomach was way too far in that direction. Well, anyway, it had only been the stomach, nothing more. And maybe he was just imagining it all. Yamato himself said he didn't drink much, and Kakashi.. He had simply had too much stress in the last weeks and months. That was all. He really saw ghosts.
"Are you serious?" Yamato asked quietly.
Kakashi looked up, at the small razor wound on his chin, the two pimples on his cheek, which were probably trying to mutate into one. And then he simply decided. "No, I don't know. Somehow.. Nah, don't listen to me. I just think I didn't tolerate something well yesterday or something.. and that's why I imagined things." He bumped his fist against Yamato's shoulder. "Never do drugs, they make you paranoid."
Yamato pursed his lips into a smile.
Kakashi thought he had said enough, just didn't want to let any more ideas sprout in him, so he got up and fished a fresh T-shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants out of his closet. When he turned around, Yamato was putting his second leg in his jeans. "Do you want to have breakfast? Food helps with a hangover, you know? You need electrolytes."
Nodding gratefully, Yamato followed Kakashi into the living room. While Kakashi searched the fridge for cheese, ham and butter, Yamato stood at the balcony door and whistled softly. "I didn't know you lived in the Crescents. I've never seen them from so close, I just drove past them with Dad from time to time."
Kakashi, who was roasting a few slices of bread on the toaster, followed Yamato's gaze. The Hatakes' apartment was right in the middle of the curve of William Kent Crescent, the smallest of the four buildings, and so the extensions of the housing complex protruded left and right into the already much too dreary view of Moss Side. "Yes..", he simply said a bit embarrassed and cleared his throat. "Do you want eggs and bacon too? Or beans or something?"
Yamato waved it off, sat down at the dining table and now examined the furnishings, from which you could still see that a crazy gel-head and a taciturn senior had raged here.
"I'm just waking up my dad," Kakashi said, hoping fervently that Yamato wouldn't say anything about the condition of the apartment, and walked over to his father's bedroom. He sat upright on his bed, the curtains drawn as usual, the bedside lamp switched on, his reading glasses on the tip of his nose and a novel in his hand. He looked up when his son came in and smiled. "Morning."
"Huh?" Kakashi said in surprise. "You're awake."
"Of course, my sleep rhythm knows no nights."
'So we're ignoring yesterday's booze again,' Kakashi thought, but didn't say anything.
"Do you have visitors?" Sakumo asked, putting a bookmark between the pages and closing them.
"Uh, yeah, a work colleague of mine. I was allowed to play my mix yesterday, Mister Hebikawa invited us to the pub to celebrate and well, Yamato may have looked a little too deep into the glass. He doesn't tolerate alcohol so well. That's why I let him sleep with me."
"Oh, congratulations on your mix," Sakumo said, no doubt out of sheer politeness, and stood up. He followed Kakashi into the kitchen, where Yamato was still sitting and now that the master of the house came in, he let his posture snap straight. "Good morning, sir."
Sakumo laughed softly. "Good morning.. Relax, boy. I'm Sakumo, Kakashi's father."
Yamato's eyes shifted from father to son and back again, and Kakashi guessed what was on the tip of his tongue. Yes, he was a spitting image of his father, might have heard something like that as a child. "I'm Yamato, at VoS my name is Tenzo."
"Ah, so a jockey too." Sakumo sat down as well, Kakashi continued to take care of breakfast, already putting cold milk and hot tea on the table. "How old are you? You still seem quite young. Do you also do this.. well, heating up the listeners?"
"No, sir. This only happens in the evening and at night. I share the show with Yukimi in the afternoon. And I'm seventeen, next month it's my birthday. That's why I'm not allowed do it at all."
Sakumo smiled knowingly, made room so that Kakashi could push a plate in front of his nose. "Finally of age. Have you planned a big party?"
"Not really, if I'm honest. My friends and I want to go to my father's hut. It's in the middle of the forest at a small lake, well, more like a big pond. Then a little partying, drinking, all that kind of stuff."
"As I heard from Kakashi, you should take it slowly then, huh?"
Yamato scratched his neck in shame and smiled gratefully at Kakashi as he put a knife on his plate. "Yes.. I.. Well, I've had a drink before, every now and then. You probably know this, don't you? Then at fourteen you get a cup pressed into your hand by an uncle at a family party or mum allows you to try the eggnog, stuff like that. But I never had more contact with it."
"Yes, I know what you mean..", Sakumo said. "Although I had to stop Kakashi from stealing hooch from my supplies all the time." It hissed aggressively from the kitchenette because Kakashi pressed the bacon strips into the pan. Sakumo continued undeterred, "He was.. I think thirteen when I had to pick him up from school for the first time because he was drunk."
"Oh shit..", it came from Yamato. "Nuts. No, I'm not that type of guy at all."
"It's better that way," Sakumo replied. "With his past I would have expected his eighteenth birthday to be a radical party, where I have to explain to the few neighbours who can still stand it here that the kiddies party all night long." He laughed aloud. "But in fact, that was not the case. I was quite surprised when Kakashi told me that he only wanted to spend his birthday with his best friend."
The pan thundered loudly on the table and Kakashi said in an emphatically friendly way, "It's served. Can we then keep our secrets and eat?" He exchanged a long look with his father, who frowned provocatively in response to Kakashi's piercing stare. They both knew exactly which topic Kakashi didn't want to have addressed. Kakashi snorted soundlessly and preferred to devote himself to his bacon.
"Well, it doesn't always have to be a party," said Yamato, who didn't seem to notice the tensions between father and son. "Only the closest friends will come. There will be ten of us, that's enough."
"That's right," Sakumo replied. "Although I am of the opinion that growing up should be duly celebrated."
Before Yamato could reply, Kakashi interrupted, "Can we change the subject now? I don't feel like talking about parties." Especially not about the one on his eighteenth birthday, the traces of which were still visible in the form of scars on his body and scorches and blood stains in his room.
They fell into silence, which could only be good for Kakashi's hangover and mood. At most, they said "Can you hand me the milk?" or "Excuse me" if someone had bumped into someone's leg under the small table. When they were done, Sakumo disappeared in his bedroom. Yamato helped Kakashi clear the table and wash the dishes. Then he built himself up in the hallway and grinned shrewdly at Kakashi. "Thank you, man, it was a really cool evening and morning."
"No problem," Kakashi replied.
Yamato looked at the wardrobe on the wall where Sakumo's parka and Kakashi's leather jacket hung. "Uh.. Do you know where my jacket went?"
Kakashi's narrow smile faded. "I didn't take it with me yesterday, it stayed in the pub, sorry."
"Don't worry," Yamato sighed. "Orochimaru probably took it with him. He can give it to me on Monday."
In the pockets of his sweatpants, Kakashi's hands clenched into fists. He looked at his father's locked door and said decisively, "Come on, I'll accompany you downstairs."
"What do you think, I can't find the way on my own?" laughed Yamato but left the apartment before Kakashi.
"No, not at all..", Kakashi answered quietly, climbed down the stairs behind Yamato and on the stone path he stopped a few meters next to the entrance. "Listen, Yamato.."
"Huh?"
Kakashi's heart leaped in his chest. He didn't want to do it, but he had to. That voice in his vertebrae whispered it to him. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to continue working at VoS."
At first, Yamato seemed to think this statement was a joke, laughed loudly, patted Kakashi on the shoulder in a friendly way, but when Kakashi looked at him seriously, his laughter died immediately. "Huh? Why is that?"
After a check over his shoulder, Kakashi took a small step closer to Yamato to be able to say in a lowered voice, "It's just a feeling. I think Orochimaru drugged us yesterday. As my father said so nicely, I'm anything but inexperienced with alcohol. Two beers don't blast me away like I was yesterday. There was something in there, don't ask me what."
"Dude..", Yamato grumbled. "Do you say he's a paedo or something?"
Kakashi shrugged. "I don't know what to think of him. He has.. —" He interrupted himself. He just couldn't. With his hands still in his pocket, he pressed his fingernails into the palm of his hand. "I don't know, man. I just want to say, take care of yourself."
Yamato swung an arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry, dude. That guy can't do anything to me. I'm sure you're really just paranoid."
A faint and dishonest smile passed over Kakashi's lips. Yesterday, "that guy" had managed to knock out Yamato with only one and a half beer bottles. But he couldn't do more than warn him.