Ch. 2 - A Close Read
He's a bit too close. He makes her nervous the way men tend to. She can handle herself around boys, young bucks of no consequence. But not someone like him.
Kakashi is too familiar with this effect. Back then, and now.
"Yes! That's it, thank you." She says too loudly to signal that his task here is done.
He's amused by the enthusiastic thanking. The particular way her voice raised just then. He can't help but relish the reaction.
He raises an eyebrow before moving a few steps back. His arms cross against his chest once more.
"You're welcome." There's a lilt in his voice. A teasing mock.
She knows he's getting a kick out of this. Spooking her. Flustering her. She resents being frightened out of the blue and now being so closely watched in the aftermath.
She slides her other slipper back on with a firm kick. He notices the excessive force.
This has become a clumsy introduction.
She decides to course correct, facing him fully. A nod. A bow. She starts:
Inori Hibiki. Between friends, just call her Nori. It's stupid, she knows, but it's a family joke that's grown up with her. Hibiki, but no, not affiliated with the whiskey distilleries. If only they were so lucky though. Laugh. Just lumber. Carpenters and distribution. Wood. Wood, wood, wood, wood, wood. Not her, though. Higher education and she's the first in her family to do it. Assistant professor in the Land of Water on her way to the Hidden Mist Village to guest lecture. It's boring, don't ask. Arrived here at the ass crack of dawn due to travel delays. She wishes she looked more presentable meeting him. Laugh.
Kakashi watches her carefully as she speaks. She's self-conscious, the words coming out so quickly that there's barely a breath taken. He finds it charming.
He leans forward slightly, hands in his pockets.
"Have we met before?" He needs a confirmation for himself, and all the recognition inside of him.
The question feels cryptic. Not a single comment on what she just said.
"No. No, we haven't. I would think I would know..." Laugh.
Civilians are probably all the same to him.
"My mistake." He leans back. It's his heart that falters this time.
She seems nervous.
Notice the face and then the hands. Maybe she feels intimidated?
Either way, her movements are jerky and forced. Kakashi can't help but notice, eyes narrowing as she caresses the box in her hands.
Inori stands there awkwardly before carrying on with her business. First, locating a heavy board for that wheel of cheese. Next, opening the sugary wine. Then, checking out the building's new additions, one side more finished than the other. Eventually, opening her suitcase.
"You seem a little... off." He observes, leaning against the counter opposite her. "Is it because of me? I can make myself scarce if that's the case."
He knows it's him.
"Well." A firm word while she gathers her thoughts.
Kakashi watches her prepare a small cheese board. Her focus on a singular project unlocks her body, her fingers now moving with an easy grace. She's someone who cooks.
"I know you're friends with my uncle, but he's friends with everyone he meets out drinking and—" Is he any real judge of character? Nothing is scarier than being alone with a man up in these cliffs, even if it's daylight. She knows the fear of being overpowered. By civilian men.
Anywhere but here.
Those nerves again. She strokes a spot behind her ear to stall before coming clean.
"The fact of the matter is that I'm not used to being around shinobi. And it is intimidating." A pause. "Especially meeting you, from a foreign land. Even if we're allies now, weren't we all at war only a decade or so ago?"
And the Leaf was and still is the most powerful military force among the nations.
Kakashi hums in response, his eye fixated on her every movement. His gaze drops and traces over her arms. He appraises the way she naturally works with the knife's center of balance.
"I suppose you could say that." Casual, as if invoking the Third War is no big deal. "But rest assured, I'm not here to fight. At least not with you, anyway." His voice is soft.
"I would hope so." She says pointedly.
"Although." He teases. "You could probably hold your own in a fight." He nods at the knife held deftly in her hand.
"Hardly." She shakes her head at this. "I'm an academic, made for fighting books, not people."
And despite her nerves, a genuine laugh. He managed to pull one out.
Her laugh is an exact match. Even if the tone is huskier and more mature, the notes in the melody are all there. His childhood soundtrack over open fields, starchy grasses, and clumsy falls. When wounds weren't cauterized but merely covered with a sticky bandage.
Something she was good at. Always eager to patch him up.
It sends a pang through his heart. He missed the sound as soon as it came and went.
Inori stoops into the fridge, pulling a wine bottle from the back. The perks of family alcoholism: a stocked fridge.
Kakashi is still sitting with the satisfaction of that laugh. As she turns away, he lets his eye wander once more, skimming over the curves of her body. The way the dress, despite its crumpled state, molds to her. Unlined. Quite a view.
He clears his throat.
"Fighting books?" His voice is slightly hoarse.
She returns to the counter and finally takes a good look at him.
Tall, isn't he. Unusual in the Land of Waves. They're not exactly a tall people.
"Yeah, books." She continues the metaphor and gestures. "Wrestling with knowledge." Her tone is serious with a teasing smile. She half-heartedly pumps a fist into the air. 'Fighting!'
"Wrestling with knowledge, huh?" He repeats. "You make academics sound like a sport." A dry joke.
There's nothing more to say. Inori looks to the side and absent-mindedly hums to herself.
She feels unmoored in here. The shoddy house from her childhood now suddenly a proper family home. The house is no longer a hostel for orphans, travelers, debt evaders, and the like. Even when there was only one room to share after war blew half the walls out.
A family home for Tazuna and the baby of the family: Inari. He's a talented carpenter in the way that talent skips a generation.
Wood.
Everywhere. The house smells of it, the scent blooming from the shaving and sanding of it. The chips broken open on the ground. The fine dust of it everywhere.
Wood.
A testament to Tazuna giving others a shot at more life. A life beyond just enduring.
This kindness is squandered on her.
Anywhere but here.
A sigh escapes her.
"Want to join me?" She lifts her eyes only as high as Kakashi's chest to say the words with courage.
He raises an eyebrow, his head instinctively tilting to the side. He understands why her eyes hover on his chest, not quite looking at his face. A sudden shyness. Her body language speaks volumes.
"Join you?" He's curious to poke the bear. "What exactly do you have in mind?"
A successful poke. She finally looks him in the eye.
"You ask a lot of questions. Just not at the right time." The corner of her mouth jumps up. She holds the bottle out for him to open.
He looks at her lips. Then the plum wine. Then her eyes. The logical part of him speaks first. Stoic and responsible. Characteristically him.
Then another part speaks. Itching and buzzing for attention. He wants to see her closer. Not at arm's length.
A touch to confirm she's real.
"Sure."