Work Text:
Tenzou opened his eyes and was awake instantly. He wasn’t in the Root barracks. The ceiling was too low and a crack cut across the plaster.
Tenzou froze, instinct taking over. He couldn’t hear anyone, no telltale rustle of cloth or breathing. As the silence stretched, the memories came back.
Tenzou could feel hands on him, pinning him to the table. He could hear Danzou’s voice. It was colder than Tenzou had ever heard it before. The man informed Tenzou of each of his failures as a shinobi and as his protege while making the preparations to activate Tenzou’s seal.
Tenzou took a shuddering breath and shook off the thin blanket alongside the phantom hands. He stared around the room, trying to find anything to anchor him in reality and drive off the memories.
The room was really a small apartment. The head of the bed was against the far wall, below a small window. At the foot of the bed was a desk and a wardrobe. Across from the desk was a small kitchen. The gray formica countertop was only a shade darker than the off white walls. The floor floor was well worn linoleum that had been white when it was installed. Even the blanket, now on the floor was gray.
Tenzou found no distraction from Danzou’s words, still echoing in his mind. His body felt heavy. By the window, Tenzou figured it was still early morning and the last of the sleeping pills he’d taken the night before were still in his system.
With no threat or distraction, Tenzou flopped back down on the bed. His eyes unfocused, tracing the crack along the ceiling.
Sleep tugged at him and with it came the sensation of being pinned.
Tenzou hadn’t even struggled. He knew the minute Kakashi stepped between him and the Third that his mission was over. Killing the Hokage had been Tenzou’s chance to make up for sparing Kakashi.
When he lowered his blade, Tenzou knew he was going to die. Danzou had no use for defective weapons and to let him live would be to risk Root’s secrets being exposed.
Tenzou had failed twice, but worse was that he’d failed because he didn’t have the heart to cut down Kakashi. He was defective.
Tenzou had accepted his fate. He had reported his failure to Danzou. He’d handed the man his tanto hilt first and submitted.
In Tenzou’s dream, he died. The seal on his tongue burned like fire, his throat closed, and he died in silence. Over and over.
It was the sun on his face that finally woke Tenzou for the second time.
It was late morning and the sun was shining directly on his face.
Tenzou blinked and rolled onto his side. He considered the room again. It looked better in the sunlight, but it was still painfully quiet and empty.
The silence was what finally drove Tenzou to climb out of bed. The linoleum was cold on his bare feet. He could see his sandals by the door, where he vaguely remembered leaving them the night before. He was still wearing most of his uniform. His vest, kunai holster, and forehead protector were on the floor scattered between the sandals and the bed.
Tenzou picked them up as he headed for the door.
There was no mirror, but Tenzou assumed his hair was a mess and did his best to run his fingers through it and straighten out the knots.
When he was as put together as he could be considering the circumstances, Tenzou opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
It was mostly empty. Several doors to Tenzou’s right, another anbu had just stepped out of his apartment and was locking the door behind him. He was wearing his ceramic mask and nodded a greeting that Tenzou returned automatically. The other anbu then vanished in a flash, leaving Tenzou alone in the hall.
Tenzou started walking. His stomach ached with hunger. He hadn’t eaten at all the day before, he never ate before missions and then after… Tenzou knew there was a cafeteria in the building, but he’d never spent much time in the standard anbu housing. Root had their own barracks and their own dining hall.
The dining hall wasn’t too hard to find. Tenzou found the stairs at the end of the hall and took them down to the ground floor. From there, he just followed his nose.
Tenzou slipped into the dining hall like a shadow. The room was huge and full of long, low tables. The kitchen was along the far wall.
Clusters of anbu in various states of dress, from full uniform and mask down to pajamas, were scattered across the tables. It was late enough in the morning that most had already came and went.
Tenzou shivered. He wished he had a mask wear. He felt exposed and very out of place without it. He was a good 10 years younger than everyone else in the room.
Again, it was hunger that made him move. Tenzou crossed the room, tensed and ready for someone to question him or recognize him. The latter being almost impossible, as one of Danzou’s Roots he’d worked only occasionally with the regular anbu and he’d never been unmasked around them.
Nevertheless, the possibility of being recognized and dragged back to Root hung over Tenzu like a physical force. He hadn’t fought yesterday, but with every breath he took Tenzou knew he wouldn’t be able to muster that sort of control again.
By the kitchen, Tenzou picked up a tray and he didn’t know how the cafeteria worked. He had no money and no ID. In Root, food had been a given. Meals were determined by a nutritionist and unless you were on mission you ate at an assigned time.
“What can I get you?” a young woman in an apron asked, startling Tenzou.
Tenzou just stared at her. She had brown hair about the same color as his done up in a neat and tidy bun and a warm smile.
“We've got scrambled eggs, pancakes, bacon, turkey sausage, toast, bagels, biscuits and gravy, cereal, and all the standards. If you want eggs cooked a different way, I can throw them on the griddle.”
Tenzou wanted to laugh. Or cry. He had no idea how to answer. He’d never even eaten half of those things.
The silence stretched and the woman’s smile turned a little forced. “The pancakes are good today. We have some fresh berry syrup from the market, too.”
Tenzou nodded. “Okay.” He held out his tray and the woman stacked 3 pancakes on it along with a little dish of butter and plastic cup of purple syrup.
“How about some eggs?” the woman asked. “Get you some protein to start the day.”
Tenzou nodded again.
When the cook had finished piling Tenzou’s tray, he found a seat on the edge of the room where he could watch the anbu without sitting near the,
Tenzou discovered he loved pancakes. He’d had a cake a couple times when he was little. Danzou had brought it as a treat after Tenzou’s first mission and again after his first year with Root.
The pancakes were better than cake, not as sweet. The butter gave them a hint of salt and the berry syrup as sweet as frosting, but in a less overwhelming way. It even had berries in it.
Bacon was good, especially the crunchy parts.
The eggs were a little dry, but Tenzou inhaled them all the same.
When he was full, Tenzou lingered, pushing a bit of pancake around his tray. He felt relatively safe in the dining hall. The lights were bright and the other anbu provided a welcome distraction without approaching him and setting him on edge.
Truth be told, Tenzou didn’t know what to do next.
Life in Root had been structured to maximize their efficiency and usefulness. Like their food intake was prescribed and monitored, so was the rest of their day. After breakfast was either a mission briefing, if you received a summons during breakfast, or training.
Morning training was split into different segments-- weapons, ninjutsu, taijutsu, and physical conditioning.
Next was lunch and then afternoon training where they sparred.
After afternoon training, they had time to shower and attend to personal needs before dinner.
After dinner they could read or train.
Tenzou stared at the soggy piece of pancake. Logically he knew there were steps he needed to take to survive outside of Root. He needed a shinobi ID, so he could take missions. He needed money, so he could buy clothes, food, and basic sanitary needs. He was currently wearing everything in the world that he owned.
Tenzou had no idea how to start acquiring those things. He wanted to go to the training grounds, drive himself to exhaustion, and forget the last 48 hours.
Tears burned Tenzou’s eyes and he dropped his fork to scrub them away before they could fall. Why now? Tenzou wondered. He hadn’t cried yesterday, despite the fear, anger, and betrayal he felt. Now, he felt empty and numb.
Tenzou took a shaky breath and noticed his hands were shaking too.
People liked to say they were born to do something. Tenzou really was. The day Danzou pulled him from Orochimaru’s abandoned lab, he made it clear that Tenzou existed to protect Konoha. He existed to serve Danzou.
Tenzou had been, if not happy, then at least content. His life had a purpose.
Then he started asking questions, asking about the life he had before he was reborn as Kinoe. He’d found Yukumi and taken the name Tenzou. He’d spared Kakashi and then the Third.
And now, Tenzou had no purpose.
Tenzou narrowed his eyes at his tray as if he could see some answer among the bacon crumbs and syrup residue.
Tenzou made his choice when he walked out of the Hokage’s office.
Kakashi made his choice when he barrelled into Root headquarters with his gifted sharingan glowing and lightning on his fingertips.
The Third made his choice when he ordered Danzou to stand down and surrender Tenzou to him.
At that point, Tenzou decided that this was their fault. They saved him and deposited him in the anbu compound without any further instructions and that was their problem, not his.
Tenzou dumped his tray and set it with the others on the counter by the kitchen.
The cook smiled and waved.
Tenzou nodded back.
---
In the end, Tenzou didn’t have to make himself the Hokage’s problem. When he walked into the administrative building, the Hokage’s secretary was apparently expecting him.
The man was a tall, thin shinobi with a neatly trimmed black beard. “Tenzou-san,” he said without inflection.
Hearing his name from a stranger sent a thrill of fear down Tenzou’s spine. He tensed, waiting for the other Root to step out of the shadows and grab him by the shoulder.
“The Hokage said to expect you. I have your documents,” the secretary ignored the look of terror that flashed across Tenzou’s face. He produced a manila envelope from behind his desk and held it out to Tenzou who took it and flipped it open.
“Inside is a new ID. It’s tied to a bank account with compensation for your past missions and your service record. You’re authorized for D through S rank missions and anbu exclusive missions. You should receive a team assignment from the anbu at the end of the week. You have the rest of the week on leave to finish your transition and get settled.”
Tenzou stared at the ID inside the envelope. It was a temporary one, just a piece of paper with his name, description, and shinobi ID number. He’d have to go get his picture taken and a permanent ID made. According to the ID, he was Konohagakure no Tenzou.
Tenzou knew that was the name he’d been using for some time, but he’d never seen it in writing. All of his Root records called him Kinoe. He wondered who told the clerk his name.
Behind the ID were hard copy records of Tenzou’s missions. These were records only Danzou would have had. Someone had noted down a price on each page by hand. The ink was fresh and bright.
“Anything else I can help you with?” the secretary asked.
Tenzou shook his head. He didn’t even know what to ask.
---
Tenzou carefully folded the paperwork and tucked it in the pouch on his belt before stepping out onto the street.
The sun was shining and the sky was achingly blue.
For several minutes, Tenzou just stood outside the administrative building and breathed. He had a name. He had a bank account. He had a future. If only he knew what to do with it. Endless possibilities stretched in front of Tenzou and he couldn’t make himself take a step towards them.
Tenzou ran a hand through his hair until a tangled knot caught on his fingers. The sensation grounded him. “I need a hair brush,” Tenzou muttered to himself. He set off for the market district without putting any more thought into it. If he let himself keep thinking, he’d stay on the street corner forever.
There were too many choices. Tenzou’s first stop had been the one-stop-shop full of imported goods and slightly overpriced groceries.
There’d been 20 different hair brushes to choose from. None of them looked like what Tenzou had used his whole life and there were all wrapped in plastic, so he couldn’t even feel the bristles.
Tenzou had found the sort of unscented soap favored by shinobi and familiar looking toothpaste options, so he didn’t leave empty handed.
There was a little salon and beauty store across the street, so Tenzou made that his next stop. When he found the aisle of brushes, he regretted that decision. The wall of hair care products was nothing short of overwhelming.
It was a weekday and the shop was quiet. The clerk, a 20 something girl with long blonde hair and nails painted a vivid shade of green, helped a couple customers quietly, but kept her eye on the kid who was staring at hair brushes like he was deciding the fate of the world.
When the other customers were gone, the clerk decided to check on the kid. “Need some help?” she asked.
The kid looked up at her with big, dark eyes, opened his mouth to say something and then shut it quickly. He looked back down at his feet and the clerk thought she saw his chin trembling. “Yes,” he whispered.
The clerk nodded, a sharp and decisive movement. “Alright, what’s on your shopping list?”
“Hair brush,” Tenzou hated the way his voice wavered slightly. He knew it was foolish, but he wanted his hair brush. It was plastic and beat up, missing plenty of bristles, but it was the thing he’d owned the longest. Tenzou didn’t let himself think about what happened to the hairbrush all the other odds and ends Tanzou had left behind. “I also need shampoo and conditioner-- the scentless kind,” he added.
“What’s your hair texture? Any dry scalp or oily feel that you’re looking to take care of?”
Tenzou frowned and grabbed a piece of his hair, unsure how to answer the questions.
The clerk hummed thoughtfully. “I’d say your hair looks pretty fine, the individual strands are thin, but you have a lot of it. It doesn’t look curly, so…” she picked a brush with a wooden handle and soft bristles off the shelf, “something like this should be good. It’ll keep from breaking the hair. You should also get a nice, wide toothed comb for when it’s wet.”
Tenzou took the offered comb and brush and held them tightly.
Next, he let himself be led to the shampoo and conditioner section. “Shinobi?” the clerk asked.
The kids seemed both small and young, but with the end of the war not yet 2 years passed that wasn’t unusual. Neither was the sight of an overwhelmed and lost shinobi wandering the streets. The transition back from war was no easy thing.
Tenzou nodded.
The clerk pointed out her most popular hair care products for shinobi. Some of them had chemicals to cut down on the natural human scent. She didn’t recommend those. They had a tendency to damage hair, especially finer hair.
Tenzou took the ones the clerk recommended.
At the front counter, the clerk added a couple hair ties to Tenzou’s bag. “Free with your other purchases” she said. The kid hadn’t mentioned hair ties, but his hair was long enough to need them. Judging by the layer of broken hairs around his head, she figured he’s been using rubber bands or string or some other repurposed item. It was a frustrating habit of shinobi.
Tenzou felt better when he left the salon, less overwhelmed. All that he really needed now were some more clothes. There were 3 shops with anbu contracts. His measurements should still be on file and he’d just have to ask that they leave off the Root emblem from the inside of the collar.
Tenzou wove his way through the market. It was lunchtime and the streets were more crowded. The smell of street food-- grilled meat, sweet cakes, and fresh fruit hung in the air.
Tenzou wasn’t walking with a purpose. He’d been to the market district countless times, but he’d never had a chance to just observe. The buildings were a mix of styles. The oldest were sprawling single story buildings with white stucco and a traditional tiled roof. There were few of these left, one housing the convenience store for whom the size and ease of navigation was an asset. Most of the old buildings had been torn down or destroyed over the years and replaced with a mismatched affortment of taller, skinnier, and smaller buildings. Domed buildings sat beside narrow tower like shops. Some streets, the brick facade was uninterrupted by alleyways and the shops differentiated themselves by decorating the sidewalk.
The streets themselves were full of carts and stalls selling an assortment of goods.
The people were as varied as the buildings. Tenzou recognized a pair of women from the Huyga clan buying fruit from a street vendor. Genin ninjas from the newest academy class darted through the thin crowd on some sort of mission. Tenzou smiled fondly at them, they’d be among the first genin to not see a battlefield in a generation.
People didn’t shy away from Tenzou the way they had from a masked anbu. The civilians nodded politely as they passed and the other shinobi gave a wave.
In the sea of faces, a familiar face caught Tenzou’s eye.
Kakashi was exiting a small shop whose sign bore the Inuzuka Clan emblem with a paper bag in his arms. He turned and melted into the traffic.
Tenzou set off after Kakashi without a second thought. He had questions for the Hatake and nothing better to do with his day. Anything was better than going back to an empty apartment and having to start actually figuring out his life.
Tenzou tailed Kakashi like he was a target. The other teen made it laughably easy. Kakashi wasn’t in a hurry. He paused and browsed the different stalls. Twice, he stopped to talk to a stranger and pet their dog. His pace was easy to match and his path was predictable as he moved down the main street.
There was plenty of cover between the other shoppers and the street vendors and Kakashi’s covered sharingan left him with a large blindspot.
Tenzou realized he was having fun 10 minutes into following Kakashi. He got bolder, following closer and pausing to look at whatever Kakashi had stopped for shortly after the silver haired shinobi.
Normally a mark’s shopping habits were valuable information, but Tenzou couldn’t make heads or tails of Kakashi’s. His interests were varied, almost random seeming. A speciality dog store, feathers, books, incense, tea, flowers, fishing line, and a bakery were just the start.
Tenzou was so caught up staring at a cart full of nothing but exotic feathers that he almost missed Kakashi turn off the main road.
Tenzou jogged to catch up, rounded the corner, and found himself face to face with an armed Kakashi.
Kakashi was prepared to put a kunai in whoever was following him. They were good, anbu level good. He hadn’t been able to pick them out of the crowd, but something in the way the crowd moved around him and the movement in the peripheral of his limited vision told him they were there.
When some teenager, still more kid than teen, came hurtling around the corner instead of the masked shinobi Kakashi expected, he opened his mouth to snap at the kid to watch where he was going. The words died on his lips when he recognized Tenzou.
Kakashi had only seen Tenzou out of a mask a couple times and always either during a fight or shortly after one. Standing in the street with shopping bags in his arms, no cloak, and no sword he looked smaller than Kakashi remembered.
“Hey,” Tenzou said when Kakashi just stared at him. He was blushing. Kakashi figured it was because he’d been caught.
“Are you okay?” Kakashi kicked himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth.
Tenzou’s eyes shifted from Kakashi’s face to the ground beside Kakashi.
“Sorry,” Kakashi muttered.
“It’s okay,” Tenzou said. “I’m alright. I wasn’t hurt. My new accommodations are sufficient. I’ll receive a new assignment at the end of the week.” There was no emotion in his voice and his face was as impassive as the ceramic mask he usually wore.
The shift in Tenzou’s demeanor left a bad taste in Kakashi’s mouth. That was a careful, political, response. He’d crafted it the same way he’d turned his face into a mask and he’d done it so quickly and easily that it had to be instinctive.
“Sufficient is being pretty generous,” Kakashi snorted, trying to lighten the mood. Tenzou had been smiling when he rounded the corner. “I lived in those dorms for a year. They’re gray and small.”
Tenzou just shrugged.
“You get anything to brighten up the space?” Kakashi glanced at the 2 small bags Tenzou was carrying.
Now that they were face to face, Tenzou realized he had no idea how to say what he wanted to. He turned over a dozen different ways to say thank you and also ask why the hell Kakashi had saved him. None of them sounded coherent to his own mind. He didn’t want to come across as ungrateful. Kakashi clearly had some political pull with the Hokage and he was now Tenzou’s senpai in the anbu.
Tenzou realized Kakashi was staring at him, still waiting for a response. “Gray doesn’t bother me,” he blurted out.
Kakashi just shook his head. “You’ll literally go crazy in an empty, gray box. Plus it gets cold easily. Come on, let’s go get you some more things.” Kakashi’s words said it was a suggestion. His tone said it was order.
Tenzou was half tempted to say no, just to see what would happen, but instead he just fell into step beside Kakashi and let the older shinobi lead the way.
There were lots of things that Kakashi thought Tenzou needed. A good pillow and at least 3 warm blankets were just the start of the list.
It seemed like every shop they passed, Kakashi was pulling Tenzou in the door and peppering him with questions. Did he like woven blankets or softer fabric? Did he like Red or green or blue or yellow? Did he like cooking in cast iron or aluminum? Tenzou just started pointing to appease Kakashi.
Kakashi only raised his eyebrow a couple times in response to things like a burgundy rug with the green blankets or the mismatch of dishes.
“So, do you have any hobbies?” Kakashi asked while running his fingers over a display of new books imported from a printing house in Suna.
Tenzou shrugged. “Never really had time for anything outside of training.”
Kakashi nodded and his face darkened. He was thinking about how time was a new thing in his life. During the war, there hadn’t been time for anything other than the war. Afterwards, he’d been consumed with integrating into the anbu, protecting Minato, and running himself to exhaustion inorder to avoid the nightmares. Not that Kakashi wasn’t still doing the last thing, he was just also re-learning the value of time spent outside of shinobi work.
“Do you have any hobbies?” Tenzou asked back.
“Ummm… I like to read,” Kakashi pointed at the books. “I go fishing at least once a month and I go on runs with my ninken most days, although that might count as training,” Kakashi said with a half laugh.
Tenzou just stared at Kakashi, filing the information away. He hadn’t really expected an answer.
Kakashi shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t a fan of being stared at and the lack of emotion on Tenzou’s face was oddly worse than the outright hatred of disgust he was used to. “Hobbies are good. You should try some, figure out what makes you happy.”
Tenzou nodded like he’d been given an order and Kakashi fought the urge to groan.
Kakashi knew he’d been like this when he first joined Team 7. Until now though, Kakashi hadn’t really appreciated how much early conditioning Minato had managed to undo. He’ll come out of his shell eventually, Kakashi thought, followed by some unkind words about Danzou. “You hungry?” Kakashi asked.
It was early afternoon now. Lunch would have been over and done with by now in Root. Tenzou nodded.
“What do you like to eat?” Kakashi asked.
Tenzou shrugged.
Kakashi sighed. “There’s a great ramen bar a block from here.” Everybody likes some sort of ramen, right?
Ichiraku Ramen was on the edge of the market district. It was late enough that the lunch rush was over and they could snag 2 stools next to each other.
Teuchi was a friendly man, He recognized Kakashi. The Hatake had been coming here since he was a genin, but it was much less of a regular affair after Obito’s death and he’d only been in a couple times since Rin and Minato both passed.
Teuchi was pleased to see Kakashi and even more pleased to see someone with him. Once, he’d come with another teen in a green jumpsuit and they’d made a contest out of lunch, but too often Kakashi was alone.
Teuchi greeted the 2 shinobi with a smile. “What can I get you?”
Kakashi placed his usual order.
The younger boy just stared at the menu.
“Our most popular topping dish is traditional ramen with seaweed for the topping,” Teuchi offered.
The kid nodded and Teuchi turned to the kitchen.
Tenzou shifted uncomfortably on his seat and swung his legs a bit, still trying to spit out words.
“Any idea what sort of assignment you’ll get?” Kakashi asked. His voice was low enough that it wouldn’t carry over the noise of the kitchen.
Tenzou shook his head.
“You have any preferences? Defensive, offensive, short term, long term, undercover?”
“Short term and varied,” Tenzou replied. “I don’t like getting locked into defense.”
Kakashi nodded he could see how an unimaginative leader would look at Tenzou’s abilities and assign him to fortifying the defenses.
The pair mostly ate in silence. Tenzou liked the ramen. It had a lot more flavor than what had been served in Root under the same name.
Kakashi caught Tenzou smiling into his bowl and counted it as a win.
After lunch, the pair turned towards the anbu complex.
Kakashi was helping carry the things he had insisted Tenzou have.
At first, Tenzou was hesitant to let Kakashi help. It would mean Kakashi knew exactly where he lived, but then Tenzou made himself write that off as paranoia. Of all the people in the village, Kakashi was probably the safest one to share that information with. You don’t save someone just to turn around and assassinate them yourself.
One of the last shops they passed before the area became predominantly residential was a flower shop. They had racks of plants set up on the sidewalk and Tenzou fell out of step with Kakashi as his steps slowed so he could stare.
Kakashi noticed and stopped walking. “Pretty,” Kakashi said. The fact that this was the first time in their shopping extravaganza that Tenzou initialed the stop wasn’t lost on him.
“These aren’t from Frie Country,” Tenzou said. He pointed to a rack of plants with big, dark leaves and various colorful blooms. “Those are tropical, probably from Waterfall, maybe a couple from Stone. They have some unique, tropical varieties that thrive in around the steam vents and boiling pools in their volcanica areas.”
Kakashi nodded.
“And those,” Tenzou pointed to another rack dominated by horribly spiky plants, “Are from Wind. A couple of them are hardy enough to grow outside here year round as long as they get enough sunlight.”
Tenzou stepped closer to the plants and ran his fingers over a small, bushy plant with heart shaped green leaves.
“You should get a plant,” Kakashi said.
Tenzou could hear the grin in Kakashi’s voice.
Tenzou shook his head and stepped back quickly. “I’ve bought enough pointless things,” he said and gave Kakashi pointed look.
Kakashi rolled his eyes. “You’ll thank me when the cafeteria food starts getting repetitive and the temperature drops.” He grabbed the plant Tenzou had been eyeing and ducked into the shop to buy it.
When they arrived at the anbu compound, the guard at the door nodded to Kakashi, but watched the Hatake closely.
Tenzou frowned at the scrutiny.
Kakashi seemed to ignore it.
They took the elevator up to Tenzou’s 5th floor apartment and Tenzou fished the key out of his pocket.
Tenzou expected Kakashi to set down the stuff and leave, but instead he started washing the newly purchased dishes in Tenzou’s kitchen sink, drying them with the new, mismatched kitchen towels, and putting them in Tenzou’s cupboards.
Tenzou wasn’t sure how to react.
“Putting some real sheets on the bed is a good place to start,” Kakashi said without looking over his shoulder.
Tenzou nodded and went to work.
In about 30 minutes, the apartment looked and felt far less like a dorm. Sure nothing in it matched, but if anything Tenzou thought that made it feel even less like the barracks he’d spent the whole of his known life in.
Kakashi picked the plant up off the kitchen counter and plunked it down in Tenzou’s hands. “I know almost nothing about house plants, so you should probably figure out where this goes.”
Tenzou narrowed his eyes. “You bought this.”
“Consider it a housewarming gift.”
Tenzou’s frown only deepened.
“Look I’m not much better at being a normal person than you, I’m from a shinobi family and kind of raised myself, but I swear housewarming gifts are a normal people thing.”
Tenzou shook his head and turned to settle the plant on the windowsill above the bed. It was a pothos, they didn’t need a ton of light and it would be fine in the mostly east facing window. “Why?” Tenzou asked as he fluffed up the leaves. He wasn’t even sure if Kakashi could hear him.
“I don’t know housewarming gifts are a thing. Probably because people never actually buy themselves nice things and also because people seem to like taking care of each other.”
Tenzou glanced over his shoulder and gave Kakashi a stare that said “Neither one of us is an idiot.”
Kakashi snickered. “You want a specific answer, you need to ask a specific question he teased.”
Tenzou shook his head and went back to fussing with the plant. “Why’d you interfere yesterday?”
“Danzou would make a terrible Hokage. I wasn’t going to let him kill Hiruzen.”
“You’re just being obtuse on purpose,” Tenzou accused.
Kakashi shrugged, guilty as charged.
“Why did you save me?”
“Contrary to popular belief I don’t like burying friends,” Kakashi half mumbled.
Tenzou’s hands froze. “Are we friends?”
“I’d like us to be, but I understand if you aren’t interested. I’m well aware of my reputation.”
Tenzou turned around and stared at Kakashi with calculating eyes.
Kakashi was standing very carefully near the door, ready to make a quick retreat. His voice had been easy and light, conversational even, but Tenzou recognized it as Kakashi’s version of the emotionless tone anbu put on when talking to superiors and politicians. What little of Kakashi’s face was visible was impassive but his shoulders were tense.
“I tried to kill you. More than once.” Tenzou’s voice was laced with disbelief.
“To be fair I definitely tried to kill you back,” Kakashi said with a shrug.
Tenzou laughed then. He saw Kakashi’s shoulders relax.
Kakashi folded his arms and pretended to look offended. “I didn’t realize my skills were so laughable,” he said sarcastically.
Tenzou’s eyes glinted in the dim little apartment. “They aren’t, but we are.”
Kakashi snickered then too. It really was pretty funny, or maybe ironic would be a better word. The village’s infamous friend-killer trying to befriend the kid he couldn’t kill. Danzou’s perfect weapon abandoning his training to run off with the shinobi equivalent of a broken sword that somehow made a really effective kunai.
Kakashi stayed a little longer. They talked about nothing important-- tropical plants, fishing, dogs, and the inconvenience of buying uniforms while still having growth spurts.
---
Over the rest of the week, Tenzou discovered a hobby.
Kakashi wasn’t thrilled, because that hobby was seeing how long he could follow Kakashi and how close he could sneak up on him without getting caught.
“Just remember, turnabout’s fair play,” Kakashi muttered to a seemingly empty street.
Tenzou ducked out of the shadow of a chimney and dropped to the street beside Kakashi. “Fair. Want to go to the training grounds?”
“Sure.”
Somehow it didn’t really come as a surprise when Tenzou arrived on Monday morning to meet his new captain and spotted an anbu in a hound mask with familiar silver hair.
Kakashi tossed him a mission scroll and a bird mask. “Break time’s over. We’ve got a mission. How do you feel about Grass Country?”
Tenzou caught the scroll and then the mask. He pulled the mask on and grinned as the familiar weight settled over his face. “They’re soil composition is very interesting.”
Kakashi rolled his eyes behind his mask and didn’t bother to suppress a snicker.
The 2 of them headed for the main gate, racing across rooftops.
Tenzou decided the future wasn’t quite so uncertain. He still had a purpose. He was Konohagakure’s Tenzou. And with Kakashi leading the way, every step felt easier. He knew someday, he’d have to take the lead and choose his own way, but for now, Tenzou was happy to fall into step beside Kakashi.