Chapter 9: fresh sprigs

Kakashi decides against returning to ANBU. He trades in the gray armor for shinobi blue's and a green flak jacket. Toshiro has to repress a smile at the sight. He'd never try to sway Kakashi's decisions, but a part of him is glad that the other man resigned. Being an ANBU Captain was irrefutably more dangerous than just being a Jounin.

Was he selfish to prefer Kakashi safer? Maybe. A big part of him is perfectly content at the removal of one of Konoha's shadow powerhouses. (It was time for Kakashi to step into the light.)

They visit the gaggle of Hatake kids at least once a week, subtly worming their way into the children's lives. Kakashi obviously struggles with it, at times treating the kids more like shinobi than...well, kids. Toshiro is there to pick up the slack, utilizing the opportunity to soothe the awkwardness brought on by both parties.

"Have you thought anymore on which name you'd like?" He asks, seated beside the strawberry blond ten year old, her eyes narrowed at the book with adorable concentration. It's open on the table, listing names that begin with 'あ'. Kakashi lounges on the other side of her, a bit farther away than Toshiro is.

It's been a few weeks already, and each time they visit she looks a little bit brighter. A little more settled. A little more human. She may never act like the child she is, but at least she'll be able to grow. Then there's the issue of her not yet picking a name. They do this every time, book before them and Toshiro's endless patience a constant presence. It doesn't matter how long it takes her to pick something. (She's basically stuck with them.)

"...There is one." She murmurs, crystal blue gaze flicking up to his with uncertainty.

"Oh?" He smiles, "Care to share?"

She flips a few pages before settling on one in particular. It's filled with mostly one name, pronunciation-wise, but with different possible kanji combinations and subsequent meanings. Her finger rests against 千朝.

"Chiasa." Toshiro reads, gazing down with soft eyes and observing the faint stirring of determination in her expression. "A thousand mornings. It's beautiful."

Chiasa's lips twitch. For the first time, her face brightens into the faintest rendition of a smile.

There are a few rare moments in which Toshiro has no work, no pre-arranged meetings and no immediate chores to take care of. His life is always go, go, go, with very little breathing room in between. The more he keeps busy, the less time he has to sink into his own thoughts. The late afternoon sun is a warm gold, streaks of orange and pink blooming across the sky. Shadows are long and dark, early spring warmth cooling significantly as the day wanes.

He's on his way back from the market, having just purchased a pair of silver-lined sapphire studs. They're a darker shade of blue than Chiasa's eyes, but it had reminded him of her all the same. Last time they'd met she'd expressed curiosity in his earrings, and it wouldn't hurt to present her with the option of getting her own ears pierced. It was certainly a way to self-express — or the beginning step in learning how to.

The street begins to feel odd. An unsubtle silence descends, whispers permeating the air. An instant later, Toshiro steps to the side to avoid being slammed into by a little boy who's running like he's being chased. Toshiro catches a flash of blond hair, bright and bold. For a moment he thinks it's a Yamanaka — but their hair generally appears white-blond or dirty blond, occasionally dipping into orange hues. This little boy has hair the color of sunshine.

Reflexively (he had just narrowly avoided being rammed into), Toshiro halts and turns to look at the rapidly fleeing boy. The whispers follow.

Ah.

It's Uzumaki Naruto.

"Nii-san."

He turns back around to see Shikamaru, Sasuke, Ino and Chouji. The Academy must have just gotten out. Toshiro glances back at where Naruto had been, but the boy is long gone.

"Shikamaru." He replies distractedly, frowning. "What was that about?"

The boy shrugs, glancing off to the side. There's traces of discomfort in the slope of his little shoulders.

"That's just Naruto," Ino answers, huffing, "He was being annoying, as usual."

"He's way too loud and keeps trying to pick fights." Sasuke chips in. "All he ever does is lose, anyway!" Both he and Ino have grown oddly close now that Ino's crush seems to have diminished. But the way they act when they start bouncing words off each other is a bit —

Toshiro frowns, "You didn't bully him, did you?"

"It's not bullying if we're telling the truth!" Ino exclaims, "Besides, he always starts it, jumping out at Sasuke!"

He feels a pang in his chest. Being an orphan in a village that doesn't care for orphans is one thing, but being the kyuubi container on top of that? It was the worst kept secret among everyone but the newest generation, and ignorance ran rampant. The shinobi, for the most part, didn't have any particular feelings towards Naruto. All the fear they had was solely for what he contained, because any shinobi worth their salt knew that a storage scroll was still a storage scroll, no matter what was sealed inside. Unfortunately, there were still idiots abound who were blinded by pain and guilt and rage — all seeking an outlet for those tumultuous emotions. So Naruto was a scapegoat for the ignorant. The civilians made it even worse, not understanding the distinction between the boy and the fox.

Toshiro, regretfully, didn't spend a lot of time thinking about the kid. There were plenty of orphans just like Naruto. His living situation would be improved if Toshiro went ahead with his reforms.

Toshiro couldn't afford to have favorites if he wanted equal care for all.

Plus, no one was allowed to approach Naruto carelessly, or even speak about anything of relevance with him. (The Sandaime's bad decisions back at it again.)

People liked to put Naruto out of sight, out of mind, or throw their hatred onto his small form without thought. Clearly, that was the stupidest, most disgusting thing Toshiro had ever heard of. If you raise a child thinking he'll always turn into a monster, then that's usually what he'll become. No positive experiences, no love, no protection or care — what did they expect from the kid? To not scream at the top of his lungs for attention? To somehow dedicate his life to a village that's only ever shown him scorn?

How could love possibly exist for a place like that?

"I see," he murmurs, and there must be something in his voice because the four children peer at him with wide eyes. "You know, Naruto is an orphan like me. He has no parents, no siblings, no cousins. As a shinobi in training he goes home to an empty apartment and has to cook and clean all on his own, with no one to teach him how. No one gives him the time of day. I think a kid like that….he'd scream and scream and become the most annoying pest on the planet...if it meant someone would just look at him. Even for a moment."

Ino frowns heavily, lip wobbling. Chouji sniffs and directs his gaze down to the ground, a bag of chips crumpling in his grip. Sasuke stares through Toshiro, face white like he's receiving the worst scolding of his life. His little hands are clenched tightly into fists at his sides.

"I know you think he's annoying, and maybe he is. That doesn't ever make it okay to act cruel, even if you think it's well deserved." He's not their parents. He's that funny older brother or Uncle figure that dips in and out of their lives. It shouldn't be up to him to thrust life lessons upon them, but hell if Toshiro didn't remember what it was like being alone in his apartment for years. He'd almost forgotten what lonely felt like, before being swept up in all the Clan business and Kakashi, then he'd realized that loneliness had been the default the whole time.

Misery. Loneliness. Depression.

Getting a taste of family life while staying with the Nara only made the realization of that hidden pain all the more telling. I'd been so lonely. While he had grown quiet and sullen and determined, Naruto was loud and brash — yet also determined in his own way.

You'd have to be deaf not to hear his yells about becoming Hokage, after all.

(You'd have to be blind to not see the hair. The eyes. Toshiro had never personally spoken with Yondaime-sama when the man had been alive, but his features were plain to see in a lonely, howling little boy. Even children of near-royalty fell into darkness, tossed out like trash and denied their birthright. Oh, the guilt hundreds would feel, even if only for a moment, if they took their heads out of their asses and realized the child they hated was sired by the man they revered. The situation was worse still when you understood that Naruto carried the name Uzumaki. A Clan Konoha had been allied with from the start, so intertwined that the first Hokage had married an Uzumaki woman.)

A Clan Konoha claimed they loved.

A Clan Konoha respected, flashing the Uzumaki swirl on their clothes and uniforms out of solidarity.

A Clan Konoha had failed. Then failed again when they didn't think to look for any survivors who'd managed to flee. Now the Uzumaki were hunted like cattle, desired for their blood, their powers, their pretty faces and unique, firey hair. A luxury, they were called. Sold like slaves, drained for healing blood or prostituted for red-haired children.

"Next time," He whispers, sadness twisting his features, "Remember that he's lonely."

Shikamaru stares at the ground with wet, dark eyes. His jaw is tight and he looks so much like his father in the fading light — shoulders tense around his ears and a furrow in his brow. A million thoughts race in that too-smart brain of his, Toshiro can see it in those expressive, teary eyes.

(Toshiro's disappointment, they discover, cuts deeper than a raised voice.)

"This name is acceptable." The dark haired boy says, pale hands almost the same shade of white as the page. 釵.

Toshiro glances at the kanji and frowns softly. "Sai."

It's a good name, all things considered….it's just….the kanji.

"You don't approve." The boy notes, head tilting. His dark eyes are carefully blank. "Is this not to your liking?"

"No." Toshiro replies, with such clarity that Kakashi sits up and presses a little closer, peering at the name. "I don't like that you've chosen to use the kanji indicative of the weapon."

The boy blinks sullenly, looking from Toshiro's earnest gaze to the book. "I don't…."

"You aren't a weapon."

Kakashi leans over Toshiro's shoulder and taps a set of kanji on the page. "You draw, right?"

Dark eyes flash in surprise, but the boy nods. (Just because Kakashi was awkward, just because he hung in the background during these meetings… didn't mean he wasn't observing.)

"Then this is fine, right?"

Both Toshiro and the boy take in the single kanji that makes up Kakashi's chosen version of Sai.

彩.

To color. To paint. Vividness.

"Yes," Sai whispers, hands in his lap and brow furrowed with an expression of confusion that feels considerably profound, "It's fine."

The Hatake Compound is the smallest out of all others, their population never being very substantial to begin with. Then it had dwindled down further, until only Kakashi remained. Like every other Compound, the houses were expensive looking and traditionally japanese, the homes elevated and outfitted with wood-barred windows and sliding doors of both wood and textiles. The main home is a sprawling estate at the very back, surrounded by overgrown wildlife and containing more dust than air within. There's a beautiful cherry blossom tree in full bloom out front and, in the back, what was once a solitary rock garden has been overrun with wildflowers and weeds. It then leads into a bamboo forest that eventually fades into the usual tall, sturdy trees that Konoha is known for.

There's only a handful of homes outside the main estate — and Toshiro is using handful as a very loose term. The Yamanaka's, for example, have hundreds of homes. (Konoha is huge. It's a veritable country all on its own.)

Toshiro notes only fifty-three homes on the Hatake land deed. Fifty-three families to a single Clan is...tiny, all things considered. But obviously a lot more than what they were currently working with. At least when the children grew up they'd have their pick of homes within the Compound.

The first thing they did on the day he and Kakashi entered was key in Toshiro's chakra to the wards at the gate, so he could enter whenever he wished without needing Kakashi.

"They'll need to be updated," Kakashi notes, eyeing the seals sprawling across the main gate after inputting some of his chakra. "Upkeep is usually yearly, for repair and improvement…."

"And you haven't been back in a while." Toshiro finishes, healing the slice on his hand without much thought. Blood-chakra seals were effective. And expensive. Seal Masters were hard to come by, which meant unless you could make them yourself or had money, it was generally a luxury for Clan's to use as protection.

(Then there's the Hyuuga, who thought themselves worthy enough of protecting their own with their all-seeing eyes….before their heiress was kidnapped from under their noses and the twin of the current Head gave his life. Now they had seals decorating their Compound walls like everyone else.)

They'd then taken a stroll down the barren, overgrown streets.

To end up here, working their way through the house Kakashi grew up in. There's a single room with the door blocked off and sealed with tape. Kakashi doesn't look at it. Toshiro can't bring himself to ask.

"This place is a disaster." He says with blunt honesty after completing the near-silent tour. His words are then followed by a sneeze that sends dust swirling through the air.

"Maa...it's a bit worse than I anticipated." Kakashi comments, waving away the dust with a careless hand.

"This is going to take forever to clean." Not to mention the fifty-something other houses that needed to be assessed. He rubs his temples.

Kakashi pushes a few of the tatami sliding doors open, letting in fresh air. "Don't worry, I'll just hire some genin teams to do all the heavy lifting."

A laugh bubbles from his lips before he can stop it, and Toshiro shakes his head, "Of course. Tell me then, are there enough rooms for eight kids in this house?"

Kakashi tilts his head, and the daylight spilling through the open doors makes his silver hair gleam with eye-searing intensity. "The first Hatake to settle here had twelve brats," he replies, eye curved into a half-moon, "So I think we can manage."

Twelve, Toshiro mouths silently. Good gods, the first Konoha-settled Hatake had been busy. He shakes himself of the thought before it gets too weird. "Will you be alright?"

The other man exhales from his nose, appearing amused. "What, are you worried?"

Toshiro sends him a dry look. "You? Alone with eight kids you still struggle to hold conversations with? No, I'm not worried at all."

"Aha…" Kakashi coughs.

Seriously, just thinking about it makes Toshiro want to bite his nails down to the nub, or tear his hair out from stress. Kakashi can't even cook! The longer he thinks about it, the more Toshiro is convinced that this will be a complete disaster.

"Well." The former ANBU mutters, running a hand through his hair and scratching his head with an awkward sort of grace, "You could always….move in."

Toshiro blinks. "I could. What."

"Move in." Kakashi repeats, dropping his hand. He shifts on his feet, one shoulder rising in a half shrug. "You know, if you're so worried."

"Are you trying to con me into a long-term babysitting job?" He can't help but joke, anything to stop the weird tension settling in the air. Kakashi has gotten a lot more emotive lately, not in the face — because of the mask, and there's only so much you can gleam from a triangle of skin — but in the way his body moves. Fidgets. Tenses. Shifts. Anxious energy and discomfort and excitement; all of it is steadily becoming more visible to Toshiro's watchful gaze.

"You caught me." The other man drawls, eye curving once again. He somehow manages to pull off a sheepish expression.

Toshiro purses his lips, not fooled in the slightest. "You're a very private man, Kakashi. I know you like your space."

Kakashi stares out into the overgrown yard, "This house is huge, Toshiro. And whether or not I like my space won't matter when eight children are running underfoot."

They're quiet. Toshiro thinks over the offer carefully. He doesn't have a particular attachment to his apartment. He's never really cared about where he lived, actually. The only thing that mattered was the fact that it was a roof over his head. A place to sleep and store things. Important things. Like his many plants and food and towering stacks of books. He finds Kakashi's company agreeable enough. There's also the attachment he feels for the eight kids already, having visited them on and off for a few months now.

He exhales deeply, brushing a stray hair away from his eyes. "Well, I'm not moving in until all this dust is gone. I can barely breathe in here."

Imperceptibly, Kakashi's shoulders relax. "So you've said."

"There's a lot of work to be done, Kakashi," Toshiro warns, but he still finds himself smiling, "Touma comes home next week."

Comes home.

He looks around the open estate, watches a breeze send stray leaves spiralling through the air — feels the sturdy wood beneath his feet and imagines the way this place will look when it's clean.

(Imagines what it will look like packed with people, with kids and friends.)

This is not his home, but it could be. It will be, seeing as he's moving in. What an odd path he's stumbled upon, to lead him to this very moment. It's strange — Toshiro almost feels...content. There's still so much to do and so much to fix, a million, million tasks to complete, but he's happy.

And he hadn't realized how starkly different the Toshiro of before was compared to the Toshiro of now. The sadness he's toted around on his shoulders has diminished, turned into a tolerable weight. For the first time in a long time, Toshiro hears the words I look forward to tomorrow echo in his head.

Kakashi coughs again. "By the way, I really hope you like dogs."

"What?"

Toshiro has always known Kakashi held a contact with nindogs. That kind of thing is well known among the man's friends, and most of his enemies. (Dog bites seriously hurt.) It's just...it's been almost five years since they first met — and maybe met is a strong word because Kakashi had been delirious — and Toshiro can count on one hand the amount of times he's seen just one of Kakashi's dogs.

Perhaps the biggest reason why is because their friendship started in the hospital and flatlined there for two years. When Kakashi started dropping by Toshiro's apartment and invading his space like the menace he was, he never brought a single dog. And Toshiro has never once been to the other man's apartment.

Not that it mattered anymore, seeing as he was moving back into the Hatake Compound.

They both were.

Still a little odd to think about.

"Touch my paw." The little pug says, one padded foot extended. The action doesn't fit the blank expression or deep voice the dog carries in the slightest. "It's super soft."

Toshiro touches the offered paw. "Ah, it is. How cute."

Kakashi sighs in the background.

He's introducing all his dogs to Toshiro — and boy, are there more than he'd realized. Actually….

"Pft." Toshiro snickers, then coughs to poorly hide his amusement.

"What?" Kakashi inquires, glancing from the eight dogs to Toshiro and then back.

Clearing his throat, Toshiro sets an incredulous gaze on the taller man. "Use your eyes and that big prodigy brain of yours."

Kakashi squints, silver hair bobbing as he tilts his head. Sudden clarity alights in his single eye. "Ah."

"On the bright side, you have a dog for each kid."

"They can get their own."

"Really? Can I have one too?"

"..."

The day before Touma is to be released into Kakashi's custody, Toshiro finds himself at the Nara Compound. He's greeted with the sight of the usual gaggle of kids: Sasuke, Shikamaru, Chouji and Ino, as well as Uzumaki Naruto. They're all seated at the dinner table, and Shikamaru studiously avoids his gaze with red-tipped ears. Shikaku and Yoshino are outside, having tea on the porch. Presumably to let the kids hang out in peace and somehow trusting them not to make a mess with their food.

"Hey, mister! Are you Ino's nii-san?"

Toshiro blinks. "Ah, no. I'm Aikawa Toshiro." Then he smiles and sits beside the boy, "But you can call me Toshiro. It's nice to meet you, Naruto-kun."

Naruto scrutinizes him with squinty azure eyes, then shrugs. "'S nice t' meet ya too, I guess. If you're not related then why are you here?"

"Naruto!" Ino exclaims, "Don't be rude!"

Naruto's face scrunches up, scarred cheeks puffing. "What!? I was just askin'!"

Sasuke rolls his eyes, "That's Toshiro-sensei, dummy. He's like…." The boy pauses. "I dunno. Super important!"

Naruto turns to look at Toshiro with an assessing gaze that's laughable on his baby-face. "How important? Are you the Hokage's right hand man or somethin'?"

"He's my older brother." Shikamaru finally speaks up. "And he might as well be."

The boy briefly meets Toshiro's eyes, then purses his lips and flushes cherry red. They haven't spoken since last week, not able to get the chance with Toshiro's busy schedule. It's obvious that Shikamaru feels embarrassed about his previous behavior. Toshiro laughs softly. His self-proclaimed little brother really is too cute.

"I'm not the right hand man. I'm…" Nobody. Ah, he's not allowed to say that anymore, is he? "A medic nin. I'll be in charge of the hospital when Itachi takes over."

"Is that important?" Naruto asks, seeming skeptical.

Chouji reaches across the table and pats Naruto's hand, "He's like the Hokage of the hospital, yeah?"

The blond boy sits up, whipping his head to look at Toshiro once more, sparkles in his eyes. "WHOA! So you're like, super duper smart! Hey, hey, I'm gonna be Hokage someday, ya know? I'm gonna take over after Sasuke's nii-san! So watch out, because we'll be workin' together!"

Toshiro looks down at the boy and his wide, earnest eyes. Determination mingles with desperation in those baby blues, little fists curled like he's ready to fight at a moment's notice. Everything about him screams notice me, notice me. Toshiro reaches out and ruffles that unruly blond hair.

"I'm sure we will, future hokage-sama." He smirks, the expression startlingly close to that of his Uchiha friends.

Naruto's bottom lip wobbles, then he gifts Toshiro with a wide, bashful smile. "Haha! just you wait, ya know!"

"Of course, you'll need a super smart, super cute advisor as a right hand man." Toshiro hums, winking at Shikamaru when the boy catches on to his not so subtle description, "Have any ideas?"

Ino looks up from her plate of food. "I could totally do it!"

Sasuke scoffs, "As if! It'll be me!"

"Oh, so you admit you're absolutely adorable? Completely cherubic? Positively—"

Sasuke scowls and throws a carrot slice at Ino's face. She shrieks and bats it out the way, before retaliating with a carrot of her own.

"I'm sure whoever you chose will be great, Naruto." Chouji chips in while the two on either side of him begin to reach around him and pinch at each other. "But I guess if you want the best—"

"It'll have to be Shikamaru!" Naruto exclaims, turning to his left, where the Nara sits slouched over his plate. "You're the smartest guy I know, even if you act like dead weight 'n you're super lazy!"

Shikamaru eyes him with a deadpan expression. "Thanks."

Naruto beams, and Shikamaru looks like he has to squint against the force of it. "No problem!"

Toshiro chuckles into his hand. He hadn't known what to expect when he'd told the kids off last week. It wasn't exactly….this. Not that he's complaining! From the looks of it, Naruto could certainly do with some friends. The most Toshiro had wanted was for them to remember to acknowledge other children's pain. A heavy lesson, certainly, but it would mean the world to people they interacted with.

(Toshiro doesn't know what would have become of him if Yukimura-sensei hadn't shown him kindness. Him, a clanless orphan with no special skills. It only ever takes one person.)

"How troublesome." Shikamaru murmurs, stuffing a pork bun into his mouth. He chews obnoxiously, eyes shifting towards and away from Naruto's sunny features.

"You two," Toshiro catches the attention of Ino and Sasuke, who had rolled behind Chouji to slap at each other. They pause with a fist in each other's hair. He grins, "Maybe don't scalp each other until after dinner."

Naruto laughs, "Ino's gonna kick your butt, Sasuke!"

The dark-haired boy scowls, "No way!"

Ino hums smugly, "Blonds supporting blonds. We love to see it."

After dinner the kids burn off their energy running around outside, play-fighting and chasing each other. The evening air is thick with their laughter, and Toshiro takes a seat on the grass beside a spread-eagle Shikamaru.

"I'm very proud of you, little brother." He says, brushing a hand across the boy's forehead. "And for the record, I think you'll make a great Hokage's Advisor."

Shikamaru snorts, sharp eyes tracking to the side and accidentally settling on Naruto. The boy in question turns as he senses their gazes on him and waves, a smile blooming on his face and pulling at whisker-marks, "Shikaaa!"

He's then promptly tackled by Sasuke. They go down in a tangle of limbs and screeching yells. Chouji then dog-piles on the two while Ino howls with laughter in the back.

Shikamaru snorts, turning his face away. Toshiro sees a red flush spread across his tanned cheeks. "I guess someone has to watch out for him."

"Oho?"

Shikamaru rolls his eyes, "What a pain."

When the sun finally disappears from the sky, the other children begin to leave, walked home by a few Nara Clansmen who complain about it the whole time.

"Boys are gross," Ino tells him at the door, "Next time I'm bringing Sakura. I need to introduce you!"

Then there's Naruto, who stands at the door with a sullen expression. He immediately tries to hide it when the attention shifts to him, but he's in a house full of Nara. (And Toshiro.) It's plain to see the boy isn't looking forward to ending the day of fun he'd just experienced and returning to his dark, empty apartment.

Shikmaru rubs the back of his neck, letting out a tragically loud sigh. He kicks lightly at the floor with socked toes. "You should stay over."

Naruto blinks, "W-What do you mean?"

Shikaku and Yoshino exchange glances over Shikamaru's head, their faces filled with humor and exasperation. Yoshino presses a hand to her cheek and looks to be squealing internally at the soft moment occuring before their eyes.

Naruto plays with the hem of his worn shirt, twisting the fabric in his hands. He looks so small in those dirty, slightly too-large clothes. His limbs look a bit too thin, his hair a little too unkempt. There's a spot of dirt on his nose and his shorts have holes at the knees.

And he carries the sky in his eyes.

"I mean you should sleep over." Shikamaru elaborates. "If you want."

Naruto grips his shirt so tightly his knuckles turn white with the strain. Then he releases it — tension leaving like an exhale. "Does that mean we can hang out more?"

Shikamaru makes a face, his desire to be lazy warring with whatever emotion Naruto's earnest gaze has inspired. "...yeah." He then turns away, ears steadily turning red, "What kind of Advisor would I be otherwise?"

Naruto gapes, azure eyes watering. "Shikamaruuu!" He cries, leaping forward and tackling the boy. They fall to the ground, Naruto babbling and Shikamaru laying there like a doormat, a look of deep resignation on his flushed face.

Yoshino snaps a picture.

Toshiro eyes her for a moment. "Send me a copy?"

They shake hands while Shikaku raises his eyes to the ceiling, doing nothing to hide the faint smile on his face.

"You have a deal." She replies, and they smirk at each other.

"Touma-kun, are you ready to go?" Toshiro asks, fussing over the boy. Kakashi hovers behind him, filled with manic energy that he directs very poorly. Hence the fact that he's ignoring everything and has his nose in an Icha Icha novel.

"Yeah." The lavender-eyed boy says, a bag slung over his back. The children had come with nothing, being….well, where they had been. But in the months they'd all been at the Yamanaka compound they'd been able to collect items like clothing, books or knick-knacks. Everything Touma owned was in that bag.

We'll go shopping. Toshiro thinks immediately. He elbows Kakashi softly.

"Ah," The man clears his throat, smiling with his eye. "I suppose it's time to go home then."

Touma takes a deep breath, fists clenched around his bag straps. He looks so small and earnest, vibrating with some intense emotion. "Yes. I'd like to go...home."

Toshiro and Kakashi exchange a look. He feels his chest swell with the beginnings of deep adoration. It's a very fluffy feeling, like a thousand birds in his rib cage. It's —

Breathtaking.

He holds out a hand. Touma takes it after a moment, fingers so much smaller. It fills Toshiro with a sudden desperate, protective energy. He looks to Kakashi once more, giddiness bubbling out like steam from a kettle. His mouth curls into a sugary smile, rosy eyes twinkling. "Then let's go."

Kakashi looks away, the skin of his visible cheekbone flushed bright red. Touma takes his hand as though it's expected, and Kakashi turns his head back so fast Toshiro is certain he heard it crack. The man looks tense and helpless, his pale, scarred hand held prisoner by tiny fingers.

They walk out of the Yamanaka Compound, the little boy between them swinging their hands as if hypnotized by the motion — by the heat of their palms against his own.