#uhhh consider this my formal apology for not posting for like half a year

[sakinemeiko-official]

*yawns and stretches* oh wow that was a nice nap

[xoxoendoh]

“Subtle Tea”

There isn't much Kakashi enjoys about becoming hokage, but his first Five Kage Summit helps him realize there might be a few perks to the job.

A quick little fic for the KakaMei Event by @kaka-mei! Fluff & humor. No content warnings, though Kakashi does briefly consider the Blood Mist. Read on AO3 or FF.net. 

“Do you concur, Hokage-sama?”

Kakashi’s face almost slid off his palm at the baritone directed his way. He could feel a dozen sets of eyes on him.

Dammit. He blinked down at the scroll-strewn, massive table and cleared his throat, hoping his gaze appeared thoughtful…rather than merely dazed. Uhhh… The expectant silence was becoming deafening.What was it he’d missed?? Something about the border of…some place…somewhere…?

A scrap of paper entered his line of sight; ‘Yes’ was scrawled across it.

Thank the gods Shikamaru was paying attention! “Yes, correct.” Kakashi could hear the roll of Shikamaru’s eyes as he began to slowly—so as not to arise suspicion that he had, in fact, been attempting to melt through his chair—straighten his spine, one vertebrae at a time. “Mmhhm, indeed.”

The piercing crack of his neck, however, sliced through any hope of subtlety. He winced. He’d never felt this sore or stiff before; it had to be all the damn sitting. Then he nearly chuckled in realization: that disconcerting pop had had the same visceral effect on him as being addressed as ‘Hokage-sama.’ Even a year into the position, the title didn’t seem to fit. Everyone kept telling him he’d get used to it, but he knew better. Maybe if he’d wanted the office or felt like he’d done anything to be worthy of it….

He sighed, already feeling his body listing sideways again; he didn’t bother to fight it. He hated the forced stillness. He hated the mundanity. He hated being treated so damn formally. He hated having to be formal himself. He hated the drapey robes and hat that came with being ‘formal’—wearing them at the inauguration was more than enough! He hated droning meetings like this one. He hated the politics. He hated the endless stream of paperwork. He hated how he couldn’t spend his days reading his campy, delightful smut. He hated how he was always surrounded by four walls nowadays, closed up like the glorified office worker he was. He just wanted to go back to doing what he knew how to do—carrying out missions—while he was still young and useful, …and probably retire to a quiet life of hot-spring-hopping a few years down the line.

He loved his village and the people in it more than anything else in the world, but he did not like this job. So there he was: a reluctant placeholder, obeying his call to duty, trying his best to sit upright.

Naruto would be ready soon enough. Just a little while longer, he told himself, begging his eyes to focus on the mountainous spread of papers before him. This was important, after all: the first Five Kage Summit in peacetime. Still, the hundreds of thousands of letters before him remained blurry. He closed his weary eyes with another sigh. He just wasn’t cut out for this….

“Hokage-sama?” came the polite—always polite—whisper of the mizukage.

His eyes leapt to the left and immediately centered on the greenest gaze he’d ever seen.

Her bangs revealed the arch of only one auburn eyebrow. “I was afraid you might be nodding off.” She brought her tea to her rosy lips, not quite covering her smile. “…Again.”

Shikamaru half-assed a cough to cover up his snort.

Kakashi had several good reasons for wearing a mask—his acutely sensitive nose, his value of privacy, …the air of mystery—but concealing a blush was not often one of them. He almost wished he were wearing those godawful Kage robes—at least the hat would cover his hot ears! His right hand rose automatically—awkwardly—to scratch at the back of his head. Of course, that hand shielded his blush only from Shikamaru’s periphery. He felt his face flame further.

Shikamaru shuffled a few papers around before giving him a covert kick beneath the table—dammit, Kakashi still hadn’t responded!

“O-oh, I do my best thinking with my eyes closed is all!” was what his brain decided he should whisper back to Terumi Mei of all people. Shikamaru had assembled files on each of his fellow four kage, …but hers had been the one folder Shikamaru didn’t have to harass him into reading. He could have kicked himself if his foot weren’t already crammed in his damn mouth.

Shikamaru, a true right-hand, took care of that for him. He kicked Kakashi hard, giving another cover-cough—sounding pathetically snickery now.

Mei didn’t try to hide her beautiful, bemused grin this time.

Kakashi attempted a casual wave of his hand, hoping that the motion would…do something…. Instead, all he managed was to get himself caught up in that smile. That was when his mind decided it would be helpful to regurgitate all the Terumi Mei fun facts Shikamaru had assembled for him.

Now she was a shinobi deserving of the title of ‘kage.’

It was almost a miracle that Mei had lived to see adolescence, let alone lead her village. She, the heir to two utterly terrifying kekkei genkai, had grown up during the gruesome height of Kiri’s kekkei genkai cleansing—meaning she’d survived the Blood Mist’s massacre of a graduation exam and subsequent years as a ninja without utilizing either of the bloodline limits she’d inherited! She’d survived and risen through the ranks on trained skill alone. Until, finally, she’d decided she had attained enough influence, had won over enough allies to reveal herself. Doing so had been one hell of a gamble. The Blood Mist’s zealous hatred of kekkei genkai was rooted in terror, she could have been killed instantly and a hundred times over! …Yet here she was, smiling warmly at him: the mizukage who had not only survived but had expertly maneuvered through the political and humanitarian minefield left in the bloody wake of her predecessors to rebuild her homeland.

The bright jade of her iris seemed to brighten with her smile, and he was seized by a strange yearning for an unobstructed view of her eyes as she smiled, to reach out and sweep the tawny strands from her face. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d touched someone like that…. Slowly, he blinked away the odd impulse, then swallowed. How many times had that smile faltered? How many of Kiri’s—of Mei’s—hardships had originated from him, from his failings as a member of Team Minato…?

He hadn’t let his mind wander too near that question when he’d reviewed her file, he knew the perils of such rabbit holes; he couldn’t allow it now. No matter his contributions, Mei had risen Kiri from the ashes of Madara’s scheming and generations of cruel tradition to the forefront of progress and international. She’d corrected the horrors she and so many of her generation had faced as children: boys and girls were no longer forced to slaughter each other in the name of advancement; the decades’ old caste system no longer determined a child’s fate before they’d taken their first breath; Kiri’s few remaining heirs of kekkei genkai no longer had to hide in the shadows for fear of death. The Hidden Mist would produce no more Zabuza’s, no more Haku’s….

The quiet clink of Mei’s teacup returning to its saucer gently broke his train of thought. The heel of Shikamaru’s boot, however, almost sent him into the air.

Dammit, how long had he been staring?? He flung his eyes away from hers…and landed on the nearest distraction: her assistant. Chojuro had peered out from behind Mei’s mane at some point during Kakashi’s prolonged gaping and was regarding him…curiously? …Suspiciously? Kakashi’s gaze jumped back to his jumble of meeting notes, his safest bet, he decided, as sweat began collecting beneath his gloves.

“Hmmm… You do seem tired, Hokage-sama…,” she murmured, thoughtful, trailing her violet nails down the curve of the porcelain, just beneath pink kiss of her lipstick.

She’d mistaken his unabashed awe…for sleep-deprivation. Was the blood draining from his face or rushing to it? He couldn’t tell anymore.

“Ah, I know what you need!” She slid the china towards him. “Please, try this. It’s my own blend, it might wake you up a bit.”

“Oh, I couldn’t!” he said a little too loudly, hands automatically waving away her kindness. He was as mortified, …yet she had just offered him her tea…. And it smelled quite good: herbal, soft citrus, subtle mint, …probably a good kick of caffeine.

“Please, I insist.” One set of nails tapped lightly against the teacup, the other ran through her hair, leaving her smirk barely visible. “…I think you need it more than I do.”

Rubbing his neck, Kakashi chuckled. “You may be right about that.” Shikamaru’s next kick somehow didn’t feel as sharp as the others. Still, it got the point across. “Yes, thank you, Mizukage-sama,” Kakashi quickly amended and extended his arm.

Mei’s manicured fingers gave the dish one last nudge, lingering two beats too long on the ceramic, just long enough to brush his hand as she withdrew.

Any genin could have avoided such a potentially awkward touch. Between two kage, however…

Kakashi tried to play it cool as he brought the tea to his lips, quickly slid down his mask, and took a long sip. It tasted just as he’d expected, like summer. He gave her an appreciative grin over the rim before replacing his mask.

Mei beamed back.  

There were many things Kakashi hated about becoming hokage. Still, there were a few undeniable upsides….

Hope you guys enjoyed! This was quick fic took a bit longer than I’d planned to actually finish and post due to a hand injury, so I apologize for the tardiness! 😉 Thanks @mrssakurahatake and @louwho13 for their help on titles and encouraging me to finish typing this one-handed. 😹💙