Into the Fire

Chapter Forty-Eight

Once out of the tower and on their own the copy-nin slowly began to relax, much of the tension melting out of his frame as the pair headed toward the market. “What sounds good?” Ibiki asked, anxious to put the events of the morning behind them and move on.

“Tamagoyaki?” Kakashi responded hesitantly.

“Are you cooking?” came the wry response, “Because I think that’s beyond me.”

“I’ll cook.” the copy-nin assured him, “Sensei taught me.”

“Yondaime could cook?” Ibiki’s puzzled expression drew a chuckle from the masked jounin.

“Of course, what do you think we lived on,” Kakashi demanded, “take out ramen? How have you stayed alive all these years if you don’t cook?”

“Ration bars.” the interrogator reluctantly admitted, “And a lot of take-out.”

“Well that stops right now.” the silver-haired jounin declared, “I’m going to teach you to cook.”

“Couldn’t you just cook for me?” Ibiki wheedled, pulling the startled man into his arms. “You look really hot all ruffled and possessive and angry by the way.” he husked into a blushing ear.

“Stop that.” Kakashi fussed, smacking the scarred man’s hands down and primly smoothing his rumpled kimono, “We’re in public, anyone could see.”

“Let them.” the interrogator rumbled, “I don’t care who sees us, the sooner everyone knows you’re taken, the better in my opinion.”

“Aaaaa.” the copy-nin replied enigmatically, “Let’s go find what we need, shall we.” They moved from stall to stall, gathering ingredients, Kakashi suddenly becoming hyper-aware of the watchful eyes following their progress. He breathed a sigh of relief when they finally finished, glad to be moving out of the range of prying eyes and fidgeting uncomfortably when Ibiki dashed into a store to make a few extra purchases.

“Can we go now?” the copy-nin whined uncomfortably, shifting his groceries from arm to arm in his agitation.

“Yes, let’s go.” the interrogator agreed, turning toward Kakashi’s house . . . only to be stopped by a growl of frustration.

“I forgot the meat.” the copy-nin hissed, shoving the bags into the scarred man’s arms and stalking determinedly into the butchers . . . returning moments later with a large bag and storming past a startled Ibiki on his way home.

“Is something wrong?” the interrogator asked in concern once he caught up with the skittish jounin.

“Everyone was looking at us. They must know what we did last night . . . I mean look at me.” Kakashi practically wailed, “I might as well paint the word easy on my forehead.”

“In the first place, we didn’t do anything of the sort.” Ibiki reminded him with a smile. “And in the second place, you look magnificent . . .” he leaned over and pulled down the copy-nin’s mask, kissing the stunned man tenderly, cradling a pale cheek in one hand as he thoroughly explored his lover’s mouth. He finally broke away, pulling back to observe the placid, limp jounin currently cuddled against his chest, smile broadening at the trust the normally reserved man was showing. “Let’s get home so I can look at this beautiful face all I want.” he whispered as he readjusted Kakashi’s mask, slipping an arm around the lithe form before starting off again.

Once they arrived the copy-nin hurried into the kitchen, shoving the groceries onto the counter and hastily unwrapping the package from the butchers. “I need to feed the pack.” he whispered guiltily by way of explanation, opening the door and giving a sharp whistle before quickly pulling back out of the way. The interrogator, unfortunately, did not follow suit. The first few nin-ken easily avoided the tall figure . . . albeit narrowly, and Ibiki relaxed, just in time to be flattened by a mountain of drooling fur.

“Easy Bull.” Kakashi muttered, pulling the massive hound off of the interrogator with a apologetic smirk. “Sorry ‘biki . . . Bull has a tendency to get over-excited at meal time.”

“Sorry boss.” Bull rumbled in reply, “But some of those guys are pigs . . . I get hungry too, you know.”

“There’s plenty for everyone.” the copy-nin assured him, “Now go have breakfast.”

“You have a bear.” the scarred man mumbled disjointedly, “Why do you have a bear?”

“Up you go.” Kakashi declared cheerfully, yanking the taller man upright and wrapping an arm around him to hold him steady. “Did you hit your head when you fell? Too many head injuries in a short period of time can be dangerous . . . should you go to the hospital?”

“Why do you have a bear?” Ibiki bellowed dangerously.

“Bull’s not a bear . . . he’s one of my nin-ken. He’s really very gentle. I’ll introduce you to everyone after they eat . . . it’s calmer that way.” the copy-nin promised. “Now sit down.” he ordered, pushing the scarred man into a chair and squatting down to peer into his eyes. “Just stay here while I cook, we’ll start your lessons tomorrow.”

Kakashi quickly chopped and stirred, sliding the finished tamagoyaki onto two plates and depositing it on the table. “This is delicious.” Ibiki swore as soon as he took a bite, “Do you eat like this all the time?”

“I like to cook when I’m home . . . that isn’t often, though. Maybe that’s why I enjoy it so much.” the copy-nin mused, “Tamagoyaki isn’t hard though . . . since you like it I’ll teach you tomorrow . . . or would you prefer pancakes?”

“The boss makes great pancakes.” a bespectacled hound pointed out.

“That’s Tomodachi,” Kakashi explained, “The big guy’s Bull, and that’s Urushi next to him. The three over there are Akai, Guruko and Akane. The pig with his face in the bowl is Uuhei . . . and you know Pakkun.”

“That’s a lot of dogs.” Ibiki muttered, squinting suspiciously at the moving pack, “What are the rest of them called?”

“There’s just the eight.” the copy-nin replied laconically, “Isn’t that enough?”

“Only eight?” the scarred man queried, focusing intently and counting on his fingers, “Looks more like . . . twenty-six to me.”

“I would not have twenty-six dogs in my house.” Kakashi insisted, “I’m not an Inuzuka.”

“Almost.” the interrogator sulked, “Besides, the bear has to count as more than one.”

“He’s not a bear.” the copy-nin responded indulgently, “Although I’ll admit he’s almost as big as one . . . he’s much more intelligent.”

“Thank you boss.” the hound rumbled, ambling over to sit in front of a still woozy Ibiki and peer worriedly into his eyes. “Your mate doesn’t look too good.”

“He looks good to me.” Kakashi replied indignantly, “Like you’re any judge . . . you’re a dog, remember?”

“I meant he looks like he’s about to pass out.” Bull huffed indignantly, “Why are you so touchy?”

“I brought you a present.” the scarred man piped up, pulling out a paper bag and plunking it in the copy-nin’s hands.

“Home improvement magazines?” the jounin asked in confusion.

“So we can plan the renovation.” the interrogator declared firmly, “You agreed and I’m anxious to get started.”

“You really want to do this with me?” Kakashi asked doubtfully, “It’s going to be a lot of work.”

“We’ll do it together.” Ibiki said with a shrug, “It will give me an excuse to spend all my free time with you.”

“I’m sure you have other . . .” the copy-nin began, only to be over-ridden by the frustrated interrogator.

“I don’t have other, better or more important things to do. Maybe you didn’t understand me when I explained it last night. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you . . . and only you. I’m looking forward to doing this with you ‘kashi,” he entreated, grabbing the jounin’s hand and rubbing his thumb over the back of it reflectively, “and I hope you want the same thing. If you don’t . . .”

The copy-nin didn’t respond, merely staring intently into Ibiki’s eyes for a long moment before silently nodding his head. “I need to get cleaned up.” he finally declared, ghosting out of the kitchen and toward the back of the house, leaving the interrogator sitting at the table.

Kakashi gratefully stepped into the shower, scrubbing himself absently as he turned the scarred man’s declaration over in his mind. I don’t think I’m ready for this, he mused, I can’t give that much of myself right now . . . but he loves me, and he wants to go slow. . . I give up, he finally decided, realizing the futility of trying to predict anything when it came to relationships . . . he had absolutely no basis of comparison.

Clean, dry and comfortably clad in basic blacks the copy-nin sauntered back into the kitchen, stopping dead at the sight of Ibiki being interrogated by the pack. “Enjoying having the tables turned?” he quipped merrily, smiling at the trapped look the interrogator threw his way.

“Not particularly.” came the dry retort.

“Then get up here.” Kakashi suggested, holding out a hand, “Before we make plans I guess I should give you the tour.”