The Heart Wants: Mind

Date Posted: 12/26/17

Word Count: 4385

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY! I have been so super busy... BUT I found some time to finish this next update! :D I couldn't let y'all think I'd dropped this thing. It's still going strong, don't worry!

REVIEW REPLIES:

fluffpenguin: No problem! I hope you like this new arc!

Youkai Ryuu: Hmm, well, here you go. XP You'll have to tell me what you think of Kigen as things go along.

sakuzi-chan: I'm glad you're liking it so far! :D I hope you stay tuned!

Guest: I'm happy you're liking this fic! It's fun to see the different ships that are already flying around... XD

coriamber2014: Awww, I'm flattered! :3 I know I started this fic 'cause there weren't many ANBU Kakashi fics around that I could find, so it's super awesome to know that I'm succeeding in my original goal.

tabjoy13: Oh my goodness, so many reviews! Thank you so much! Welcome to the fic, and I'm so glad you're enjoying it! To be honest, the Firefly reference was entirely on accident; I saw it on Pinterest and didn't realize it was a quote from Firefly until after I'd used it. Good to see you're intrigued, though, and I hope you (and everybody else who's followed/faved/reviewed) enjoy this next installment!

and again, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

~Penelope

Kakashi didn't really get 'visitors'. Not like normal people, anyway. Whenever a knock sounded against his apartment door, his first thought was either 'rent' or 'Tenzo'—seeing as those two things were the only reason anybody would ever come to see him. Everybody else who might've come knocking just for him was dead and gone, and Gai just… didn't knock.

He didn't recognize this knock, however. It wasn't tentative, gentle, like Tenzo's. But it also wasn't the incessant pounding that was characteristic of Old Lady Fu. The knocks had sounded firm against his door, in an even threesome. Polite, but insistent.

With a sigh, Kakashi crawled off his bed, setting Icha Icha Paradise aside amidst the rumpled covers, careful not to lose his place. Not that he wouldn't have been able to find it if he did lose it… He'd read it three times already. Jiraiya really needs to finish a second one…

Across the cold hardwood Kakashi trudged, until he stood before his apartment door, which loomed just waiting to be opened. He wondered if whoever was on the other side would just go away if he didn't answer. But if it was Tenzo, he probably needed something; Tenzo didn't like bothering people, no matter how much people insisted it was no bother at all.

At this point, any further thought was simply stalling. Kakashi wouldn't have minded so much, except there was always that pesky chance that it really was something important. With great reluctance, he gripped the doorknob and pulled it in. The door opened a crack before halting against the deadbolt chain.

"Yes?" Kakashi peered through his narrow window to the outside hallway, and his eyebrows climbed at the sight of the person who stood waiting.

Kigen Ryoiki, in all his regal glory, folded his arms over his chest, sporting a snug black sweater and tan slacks. Civvies. Unofficial business. Chances of it being a complete and utter waste of Kakashi's time: 78%.

"There's a nice little tea shop about four blocks from here," said the navy-haired man, gesturing down the hall with an open hand. "I used to frequent it before the Hokage's cronies locked me away… They have sweet jasmine to die for. Follow me, and I'll show you."

Kakashi's eyebrows twitched higher. Did this guy think a straight order was really the way to go? If Kakashi himself could safely say that was a social no-no, then this ex-captain had to be even more inept than he was. Besides that, of the two of them, Kakashi ranked higher on the proverbial totem pole.

He offered his visitor a frown. "Excuse me?"

A beat of silence skipped by, and then Kigen let out a long sigh—as if he were resigning himself to something. That something was probably an explanation.

"I'm offering to buy you tea," was the explanation given. Kigen raised his chin in subtle defiance. "Problem?"

The attitude was grating, and a number of rude responses instantly jumped to mind. Kakashi could just shut the door in his face and go back to his book. He certainly didn't feel like going out right now. Another option was to spit something sassy, like 'you're not my type', before closing the door with slow deliberation.

Or…

Now and again, Kakashi liked a good trolling. Nothing else broke up the shadowy mundane existence he lived quite like it. More than being outright rude, sometimes, it was so much more fun to mess with the opposing party's head a little. That usually guaranteed the same result—Kakashi's solitude—in a much more entertaining fashion.

Kakashi unbolted the door, opened it wider, and leaned casually against the frame. "So… You're asking me out?"

Something akin to confusion knotted Kigen's brow. Kakashi could practically see gears turning behind his yellow eyes, and he waited patiently for the flustered denial that was sure to come. At least, he hoped it did… He wasn't sure what he'd do if his trolling gag turned out to be correct.

Slowly, Kigen nodded and for a brief moment, Kakashi feared the worst. Then the other man opened his mouth.

"You're inside, I'm outside, asking you to come out… Yes, let's try to keep up, shall we?" Kigen gestured at Kakashi's bare feet. "You'll need shoes."

Duh.

Kakashi wondered where he'd gone wrong. He was fairly certain his intentionally wrong conclusion had been perfectly clear. Had his target simply heard wrong? From this distance?

"So you are asking me out," Kakashi said with purposeful finality. He watched for signs in Kigen's body language, of either confirmation or denial.

Neither sign came however. Instead, Kigen's scowl intensified, his fists clenched once, and he gave a frustrated shrug. "If you want to say it that way, fine! But would you please stop just standing there throwing my words back in my face? We don't have all day."

Kakashi withered. Geez… how oblivious is this guy?

Still. The mind games weren't working. Was it naivety—in an ANBU operative? Kakashi doubted it—or counterattack? If it was the latter, Kakashi had to admit it was sort of working. Kakashi's direction of approach had been thrown off course, and he was left to step back and try to find a new one.

There was only one thing to do.

Kakashi shrugged, and pushed off the doorframe. "Okay. Let me get my shoes."

Kigen pushed one of the hanging curtains aside, and a streak of sudden sunlight offended three patrons before splashing over the far wall, announcing the duo's arrival in the small corner tea shop on one of the busier streets in the eastern district. A wash of herbal aroma hit Kakashi like a tsunami to the face, and he didn't know whether to stagger back or relish it. He decided to do neither, and instead inhaled slowly and shallowly, to give his olfactory nerve a little time to adjust.

"You sure tea is all they're making here?" he asked his host.

Kigen ignored him, turning instead to a little old woman who approached at a hobble. She stooped like the ceiling might fall in on her, and her hair was thin enough that Kakashi wondered how she still had any at all.

"We'll have two of the usual," Kigen said with an air of familiarity.

The old woman punched him in the gut. Face like stone, Kigen didn't even flinch; she might as well have slugged the Hokage Monument for all the damage she did.

"The usual!? Dagnabit!" With more spry energy than Kakashi would've thought her capable of at her size, the woman flailed dramatically, shaking her fists and stomping her feet. "You get out of my shop, you tactless prick!"

Kigen arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because I don't like you!" the old woman snapped back.

"I do believe that's called consumer discrimination, for which I could report you to the authorities." Kigen, completely unfazed by this woman's animosity, folded his arms over his chest and tilted his chin up. Meanwhile, Kakashi was busy wondering just how old this guy was… He acted like a twelve-year-old. A 'walking dictionary' sort of twelve-year-old.

"Report-!?" Bearing crooked teeth, the old woman unleashed a growl so menacing, that it startled Kakashi from his lack of impression and provoked a shudder on his part. "Imperious jack***!"

"Prune-faced gorgon," Kigen returned with fluid apathy.

Yep. Definitely a twelve-year-old.

Practically steaming—Kakashi expected her to start frothing at the mouth any moment—the old woman clenched her fists until the knuckles popped. Then she turned and pointed a bony finger across the shop.

"Corner booth! Take it!"

Now that he looked, Kakashi could see that all the other patrons seated at the quaint round tables inside were now watching with wide eyes. He withered under the attention once he realized it.

ANBU are not meant to be out in the open… Or maybe that's just me.

Kigen moved, the shield that was his presence drifting away in long strides, and Kakashi followed after him at what he hoped was a leisurely pace. But despite his hands being in his pockets, Kakashi could feel the tension twinging through his shoulders. He let his breath out slowly in an attempt to ease them.

The corner booth, like the rest of the booths against the wall, differed from the main tables in the fact that they were separated by wooden dividers—small, individual rooms with wide doorways that looked out over the main dining area. Only a few of them were being used at the moment, and the corner one was the furthest from any fellow customers.

"Well this is… cozy," Kakashi said, watching Kigen settle on one of the cushions at the table inside the corner booth.

"It'll do," was Kigen's clipped response. His sharp eyes looked past Kakashi, into the main hall—at what, Kakashi couldn't tell.

Seeing that no further explanation would be forthcoming, Kakashi resigned himself to take a seat across the table from his companion. He sank onto his knees on the cushion, and found it rather comfortable, if not a little overstuffed.

"Our hostess doesn't seem to care for your company." Kakashi eyed the man across from him.

"Jun Nakajima-san," Kigen said, closing his eyes. "Best tea master in Konoha, and also recovering from a recent hip surgery. Hence her particularly cantankerous mood."

Kakashi gave him the driest stare he could muster. "No, I'm pretty sure it was just you." Then he frowned. Hadn't this man just gotten out of rehab? "How would you know about any recent surgery?"

"She's favoring her left leg. Or didn't you see it?"

Honestly, Kakashi had simply thought it was how she walked. It wasn't as if he had any pretext. "Why hip surgery? It could be her foot."

Kigen shrugged. "She had trouble with her hips last time I saw her, about seven months ago."

"Could still be her foot."

The other man's navy eyebrows twitched lower over his sharp eyes, and Kigen leaned his elbows forward to clunk them on the table top. Irritation radiated from him in waves, which Kakashi met evenly with a aura of 'I don't give a crap'. Because he didn't.

He never hesitated to insult children. Especially when they thought they were smart.

"Must you insist on shooting down every deduction I make?" Kigen laced his own fingers together, clasping them under his nose and muffling the tail end of his words.

Kakashi shrugged. "I prefer to consider all the options."

"If one were to simply consider at every interval, nothing would ever be done about anything." Kigen leaned back again with a great sigh, and turned to gaze out over the main dining space outside the booth. A lengthy beat of silence stretched on, Kigen's eyes darting this way and that, before he finally looked back to Kakashi.

"Pick somebody out there," he said.

Kakashi frowned. "What?"

"Pick someone who's seated in sight. I can tell you everything about them."

"Everything?" Curiosity rearing its head, Kakashi turned to follow the man's gaze toward the patrons gathered outside. With the booth dividers separating them, they were mere observers to the crowd—even the sound seemed distant from them.

A good number of people conversed at their respective tables, and Kakashi swept his attention over them all, pondering which one he should point out to his strange company. An elderly couple, a man and his date, a solitary woman on the far end… and the approaching waitress.

"Tamaryokucha with grilled citrus," she said with a pleasant smile, as she set the tea tray between them. "Or 'the usual', Ryoiki-san."

Kigen gave a minute smile. "Thank you, Miss Atsuko."

"Enjoy." With that, she turned and strode away, weaving through the tables to the one at which the young couple sat.

Kakashi settled his gaze on the two, watching them for a moment. The young man had dark hair pulled back in a low tail, a bandana tied around his head. He was nervous, but quiet, from what Kakashi could tell. His knee bounced, but his face displayed some kind of contentment or resolve. He was dressed casually, but cleanly.

His date had chestnut hair, long and straight, half of it tamed in a bun while the rest spilled over her shoulders. She appeared to be more jittery than her companion, tapping her fingers and glancing at the exit—in fact, she seemed rather ready to leave at any moment.

"Those two," Kakashi said at last, nodding in their direction. "Tell me about them."

Kigen snorted, picking up his tea mug and giving it a gentle swirl. "I said pick one, but this works, I suppose." He took a slow sip, set the mug down, and then turned in his seat to face out across the crowd. His eyes narrowed, and Kakashi could practically see his focus honing in on the couple like light through a looking glass.

It seemed like this might take a while. Kakashi, a bit dubiously, picked up his own tea mug and inhaled the steam wafting from the liquid. Sharp, citrus…

"He's a shinobi," Kigen said, startling him. "Or was. He's been recently dismissed. Could be retired, but given his age, discharged is more likely. Not discharged for injury, though; he's in good health. So something psychological, no doubt. Probably shellshock. He flinches at sharp noises, but he's trying to keep it discreet. He doesn't want his sister to notice."

Kakashi frowned into his mug, playing the absentminded listener despite taking in every word. "Sister?" He chanced a quick sip of the tea. Hm, not bad…

"Yes. Did you assume it was his date? She's aware of that. She keeps glancing around like she's worried people are watching. She's also forcing her laughter. Strained relationship. Probably estranged. Maybe she had feelings she shouldn't, or maybe she doesn't like soldiers. I'd put my money on the former. Her brow furrows every time he looks anxious. She's worried for him. That rules out animosity."

"Or it could just be young love on the rocks," Kakashi pointed out.

"Unlikely. Different hair color, but their eyes are the same shade of blue, down to the grey flecks on the lower half of the iris. Similar jawlines and ear shapes as well. Definitely related."

Who pays attention to freaking ear shape?

"She's aware of his struggles, though. She sets her cup down with extra care, keeping her movement slow and added sound to a minimum. However, she's also in a hurry." Kigen tilted his head. "Keeps glancing outside, like she has somewhere else she needs to be, but she's reluctant to leave. He's oblivious to this."

Kakashi processed this information, observing the couple himself. All of the obvious things were in fact true, from the flinching to the glancing. Even the ear shape. However, there wasn't much beyond that. He opened his mouth to voice this, only for Kigen to cut him off.

"She's a babysitter," he stated. "She has a blanket and decently new pacifier in her satchel beside her. Certainly not for herself. Could be for her own child, but the likelihood of that is low. Look at her physique; no signs of having recently been pregnant. Athletic, enough to be a shinobi but she isn't, judging by her tan lines and lack of standard equipment. She's also rather young to have an infant, and she's lacking that distinct smell of 'baby'."

"What?" Kakashi said, incredulous. How could he jump to this kind of conclusion based on lack of 'baby' smell? And how could he smell her, anyhow? Was it on the way over?

"Conclusion: she's planning on going to a client's home after this brunch, hence her antsy behavior. She does have somewhere to be, but she's loathe to leave her brother alone, particularly since he's planning on joining the military once more."

How could Kigen possibly know that? No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than-

"I overheard him express such sentiments as we passed by. Typical feelings of uselessness and a desire for action. This confirms my theory of discharge for PTSD—something he couldn't help, leaving him feeling purposeless without the career he'd poured half of his young life into. Now he's called his only remaining family here to let her know of his intentions.

How do I know she's his only remaining family? This is the sort of thing you would tell your close family right away if you trusted them. However, she's the only one here. Perhaps he called them and they didn't bother to show up, but why not? Their traumatized son wants them to have a family brunch to give them an announcement."

Kakashi made his interjection quick, just to get a word in edgewise. "Maybe they don't care."

"No, these two are from a decent home. Look at their clothes—neat, clean. Well-mannered. The only signs of trauma are the shellshock, scars on the man's hands, and the shadows under his eyes. Perhaps they had your everyday family drama, but they came from supportive parents, biological or no. And whatever loss happened, it happened in the recent past—not long enough past to affect them fundamentally, but not recent enough to be obvious emotionally. Possibly between three and six years."

"That's awfully specific," Kakashi murmured into his tea.

Kigen plowed on, heedless. "Besides that, he's wearing a pair of outdated ninja sandals. Previous generation. Likely a hand-me-down from his father. Sentimental value; he wants to feel close to his military father right now. If the father were alive, why would he take the memento over the real thing? So his sister is all he has left. There could be extended family, but let's face it, why would he bother announcing this sort of thing to distant relatives even if he does have them? This is something personal and controversial; not something you share with everyone."

"What color are her pajamas?" Kakashi blurted before Kigen could continue.

The question halted the other man just as he'd opened his mouth to speak, and for a moment, Kakashi could practically see his racing mind come to a screeching halt. Kigen blinked his gold eyes once, twice—slowly. He pulled his attention away from the couple in the dining area, and zeroed in on Kakashi's face, brow pursed. Kakashi just offered him an eyesmile.

"…What does that have to do with anything?" Kigen asked at length.

Kakashi set his drained tea cup aside on the table. "You said you could tell me everything about them."

"Semantics. Besides, the color of her sleeping apparel has no bearing on the purpose of this exercise."

"So you do know the color?"

Kigen snorted. "No. That isn't an observable fact."

"Uh-huh."

The Ryoiki's forehead creased further, frustration mounting with obvious intensity. Forcefully, he placed his elbow on the table and planted his other hand on his hip, leaning in to glare Kakashi in the eye. "Do you exist solely to make trouble for other people?"

Kakashi shook his head. "No. Wait…" He pinched his chin, feigning deep thought. "…Okay, mostly. How do I know you didn't plant that couple there just so you could show off here?"

Kigen's jaw slackened, and he looked absolutely affronted. "Excuse me?"

"You could be faking it."

This time, Kigen's pale face turned a little red with the force of his indignation, and the scowl returned twofold. Kakashi watched, maintaining an impassive expression as he did so. From the corner of his eye, he noted Jun Nakajima approaching the booth, a stormy expression on her wizened face and a tray in her hands.

Then Kigen jumped up, glaring down his nose at Kakashi just as the elderly woman stepped up to their booth.

"Come with me," Kigen ordered, words hasty and clipped. Kakashi raised an eyebrow.

Without waiting for a response, Kigen marched out of the booth, almost bowling Nakajima-san over on his way out. The old woman stumbled, flailed and nearly dropped her tray—and the steaming kettle on it. She managed to steady it, while Kakashi released a pent-up sigh of resignation.

Might as well, he thought. He rose from his cushion to his feet and slipped his hands into his pockets.

"Hey you!" Nakajima-san barked at him, voice like a crow's. "Somebody's gotta pay for this!"

It took a moment, but he eventually realized that by 'somebody,' she meant him. His eyebrows climbed, and he looked over the table right to left, searching for the payment Kigen had to have left amongst the purchased wares. Not a single ryo graced the table's dark surface.

He sighed, and dug into his supply pouch, fingers searching for spare change. This man is proving quite troublesome…

"Where are we going?" Kakashi questioned as he moseyed down the damp street behind his dubious escort. Ahead of him, Kigen's shoulders were rigid and his steps purposeful, footsteps muted by the close air about them. A fog had blown in from the east, over the bluffs; it was like a cloud had settled over the village and sent the majority of foot traffic retreating indoors. Visibility was low—unless you were a shinobi.

"You tell me," Kigen replied, not glancing back.

Kakashi frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I will continue walking in random directions until you stop me. Then, you may point out anyone you wish. I will prove my skill to you."

"Wait, stop."

Kakashi didn't have to reach, or even ask twice. Kigen halted on the spot, and turned to face him. No doubt he thought Kakashi would comply.

They'd come to a halt across the street from what looked through the fog like a boutique, with faceless mannequins in the windows clad in colorful traditional dress. On their other side nestled a quaint little bookstore.

Glancing about to see how many other pedestrians surrounded them—and there weren't more than four or five—Kakashi eyed his companion. "Why are you doing this?"

It was one thing to show off. Kakashi knew what that was like; he'd seen the hubris in Kigen's 'demonstration' before. But this seemed a tad excessive, if Kigen was going so far out of his way to prove that he was half-omniscient.

The other man remained straight-backed and narrow-eyed as he replied. "I told you. I will prove my skill to you."

"Why?"

Kigen raised his head, inhaling sharply through his nose. Kakashi could tell he was losing patience rapidly at this point. Still, he provided an answer.

"You're a man of reason," Kigen began, gesturing toward Kakashi's person. "I've known this since our first meeting. I attacked you in the middle of a public street, and rather than take the time to question my reasoning or get lost in your own surprise, you chose to adapt to the situation at hand. You shut down your emotional reaction in order to focus on defending yourself. Then later, you returned to confronting the puzzle and did so from a completely objective viewpoint."

Kakashi shrugged. "So what?"

"So that kind of objectivity by choice is a frighteningly rare find," Kigen said, "and in our line of work, it is invaluable."

"And this means you have to drag me around the village because…?"

"I do not make baseless deductions!" Kigen spat with a forceful insistency that surprised Kakashi. "When I make a judgment call, I do not do so lightly. I'm aware of the endless variables and multiple ways in which a scenario might have played out, but I make decisions based on the balance of probability. Humans are predictable in most situations, therefore, it is no leap of logic, given the option between a sure mediocrity and a chance of spontaneity, to assume the former. This is how puzzles are solved—by following the pattern."

It was beginning to become clear in Kakashi's mind, as he listened to Kigen's frustration, why he was getting such a reaction.

"If a defiance of the norm comes along, I deal with it when it does. However, until proven to be such an anomaly, I will go on using deduction as my guide." Kigen had begun to calm down now, words more measured and composed. He gave a short sigh. "And as I do, it would be a great help to have another one of Konoha's renowned minds on my side rather than against me."

One of… Oh. Kakashi raised his eyebrows. "You mean me?"

"People value your judgment, even if you yourself do not. You have more influence than you realize, and I would greatly appreciate if that influence was not used to convince others to disregard my efforts."

Despite himself, Kakashi laughed—humorlessly, but it was a laugh still. "I'm not about to say you're right if you're wrong."

"No, of course not." Kigen shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing across the street at a pair of male chuunin that appeared from the fog. "I'm not asking for favors. Only for the benefit of the doubt."

That was something Kakashi didn't extend to much of anything anymore. There was always a disappointment to the standard, an exception to the rule. Absolutes didn't exist. Kakashi's mind couldn't let him accept a bottom line without reminding him of the alternatives. It was simply how his mind worked. The benefit of the doubt was only given to the universe as a whole—and to the fact that nothing was certain. When in doubt, he could count on the world's unpredictability.

And here was this stranger, somebody Kakashi barely knew, asking him to put trust in his ability to count on the very opposite. To rely on predictability in an unpredictable realm.

This was about that suicide case, Kakashi knew. It wasn't hard to guess. Kigen was incensed over his judgment being called into question. And the intensity of his indignation stemmed from more than just Kakashi's incredulity of today. It must have started during that investigation two days ago. When Kakashi combated Kigen's decisive deduction with his own variables.

Or perhaps Kigen was just more volatile than he thought.

Either way, Kakashi had a choice now.

And even as he pondered it, he could only come to one conclusion.

Why not?