It hadn't rained since the month previous. The sky was a crisp blue but the breeze was stale and hot. Summer lasted a long time in Konoha and Tenzou could barely believe that it was only just starting. But he could, of course; he had been in the village for years and weather patterns were, well, patterns.
He was craving a cold shower or a cold beverage, but it would have been rude (and out of character—almost crazy) to stand up during a briefing to get either of those. Citing temporary insanity brought on by dehydration could have worked in his favor, but it would have most definitely knocked him off the roster for the upcoming mission. He didn't want that. No matter how hot the room was, no matter how much he cursed the buildings architects' lack of foresight when it came to ventilation. So he stayed, tapping his pen atop the table, willing the sweat trailing down the side of his face to roll faster.
Genma, who was sitting next to him, had resorted to taking off his headband (or headscarf, in his case). He'd attempted to flap it around for a cooling effect, but stopped after only a minute. The manila folders that had been handed out at the beginning of the meeting were the only things that could produce a noteworthy breeze; Tenzou's was already creased down the middle, cutting its effectiveness in half.
Kakashi grinned at him from across the table. He glared back. The man, no matter how many layers he wore, never seemed to mind the temperature. There wasn't even one drop of perspiration on him—although, admittedly, there wasn't much of him exposed. It always annoyed Tenzou to no end, when they were sitting in a boiling hot room. It was a stupid, petty reason to get frustrated. Especially since he was certain Kakashi wasn't doing it on purpose. He breathed out and attempted to focus on something else. But, like circular logic, his line of sight always landed back on Kakashi.
Everyone else was sweating so it was only natural he'd automatically focus on the asshole actually enjoying himself. Distraction from the briefing (as a rule of thumb: they were always yawn-worthy in the heat) was welcome. Seeing someone swivel around in their chair like they had icepacks perpetually tucked under their shirt, however, was not.
Another half hour passed by in a heat-laden haze. By this time, the back of his shirt was soaked through and all attempts at wiping away sweat were useless. That hadn't stopped him from wiping at his upper lip, though. Seeing all his teammates suffer along with him made the heat slightly more bearable, too. However, it was enough time for Tenzou to get his mind back on track and scribble down all the important facts he had missed out on in the first ten minutes. All the pertinent memos had been finished, but, true to style, someone a few seats down kept asking for elaborations.
"Think if I kick his shins Aoba will finally get a clue and shut up?" Genma whispered to him dully.
Tenzou leaned in, "By all means try."
A few seconds and a yelp later, the team was dismissed. The crowd rushing out of the stuffy room usually took a minute or two to dissipate. Tenzou was in the habit of staying behind a bit. Mostly to avoid getting crushed on his way out and partly to avoid conversation. All he wanted was a shower and the sanctuary of his apartment. He stood up and tugged at his shirt collar, just a little grossed out when the shirt took a moment to lift off his skin. As much as he didn't mind dirt and grime, he was never sad to see it go.
The walk home felt longer than usual. He walked underneath the store awnings in an attempt to beat the sunshine, waving to the few store owners who sat outside to fan themselves. He was relatively well-known around the left side of the street. Whether or not he was well-liked was up to debate, although he was certain he made himself useful enough to garner some kind words. His apartment was nestled quietly in the vendor district, above the plant nursery, and his time not spent working or training was often put to good use helping out there. It was around noon, he figured. Most people stayed indoors during the peak hours of the day, so it was standard practice for the majority of street vendors to close down shop until the sun lost the most of its strength.
He slipped into the alleyway between the stores, relieved that that patch of space was significantly cooler than the surrounding streets. The set of rickety stairs to his apartment came up much too fast, but he took them two at a time. The apartment complex above the stores had been around for years, but was still holding together surprisingly well. There were only a few others that lived on his floor, as most of the rooms had been turned into storage space in more recent years. How anyone had more possessions than could fit their house was a foreign concept to Tenzou.
Either way, the complex had character. As did most of the other residents. Most of them were older folks: one a retired shinobi, the other two a married couple who had no other job than to make sure he paid his rent on the third week of the month--even though they didn't own the complex. His neighbor to the left was an active duty shinobi, though. They bumped into one another at headquarters several months after Tenzou moved in; it had been slightly awkward. Probably because they shared the same clothesline.
He sighed and opened his door, ridiculously glad that he had the day off. His apartment possessed some sort of natural cooler, so even in the dreadful heat of summer, it was always a few degrees less. It wasn't a significant enough drop to warrant an extra layer, but he'd take what he could at this point. He tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it over the couch, then unbuttoned his pants. Sitting in the comfort of his own home (in boxers, no less) would probably be the highlight of his day--unless more paperwork came in, or he was needed for emergency deployment.
Before he could relax, he double-checked that everything was in order. His plants had been watered that morning and none of them were wilting, although the one near the window probably needed to be moved to some shade. The door was locked and bolted, the windows closed and curtains drawn; it was a psychological comfort really, as a set of locks wouldn't stop even an Academy ninja. And while the elderly couple who had a horrible taste for snooping sometimes tried to pry when they knew he was home, he didn't think they were up to the challenge today. So he crossed his fingers and declared his slate clean for the day.
He flopped stomach first onto his couch with a sigh, feeling much too lazy to shower or get a glass of water. It was a little funny how he had craved both a half hour ago, yet discarded them as options when he had the opportunity. He sighed again and made himself more comfortable; one leg overshot the couch arm by a foot while he pulled his other knee towards his chest. It was the best he could do with such a tiny couch. The heat wasn't so oppressive when one wasn't moving. In fact, it was almost nice. He yawned after his restlessness died down and closed his eyes.
Tenzou didn't remember falling asleep. One moment he was awake and the next a series of knocking at his door was waking him up. After several choice words (all foul, no doubt; he couldn't remember what he had said), they stopped. He dozed off again after that, but it wasn't a very deep sleep. All of a sudden he felt a very cold and unpleasant object being pressed to the back of his neck. His body switched to automatic with a surge of adrenaline--his forearm was pressed up against a windpipe before he knew what he was doing.
"Hey, hey--chill out before you strangle somebody!" Genma said from the doorway.
Tenzou groaned. Genma, he thought. It was always Genma.
He looked down and let go reluctantly, wondering why he had been the chosen one for Genma's choice of debauchery. Raido, who'd been the one trapped in the headlock, was busy rubbing his throat; any shinobi worth their salt had the reflexes to stick their hand between a forearm and their neck, but it wouldn't make the bruises any less painful. But better to be bruised than dead, Tenzou always said.
"How did you two get in?" he asked, suddenly wondering where his shirt had disappeared to.
Raido--who was fully dressed in loose summer clothing--said, "Your landlady let us in."
"She heard us banging on your door and was worried you drowned in your tub, apparently." Genma elaborated. A few moments later Kakashi popped into view from the doorway as well; he was carrying several grocery bags in one hand and Icha Icha Paradise in the other.
The sight of Kakashi was enough to zap all the fight from Tenzou. While he had no qualms about kicking both Raido and Genma out without batting an eyelash, Kakashi was too much of a mentor-cum-hero of his to do any of that. That, and he knew once Kakashi settled down it often took more than a few nasty looks to get him to go.
He sighed loudly, getting across the fact that he was not pleased they were visiting, but he waved them in anyway. He felt a very distinct headache coming on. He seemed to only get them whenever he was forced to fraternize with his fellow shinobi. But they looked so happy (or was that smarmy?) to be hanging out with him. Raido took the bags from Kakashi and headed straight for the kitchen. Kakashi made himself comfortable on the couch, stretching out so much that Tenzou had to take the armrest. Genma disappeared down the hallway; the sound of running water indicated that he was using the bathroom.
Tenzou looked down and crossed his arms over his chest. A bag of ice lay half-open on the floor, a few chunks of ice cubes scattered across his precious linoleum floor. It felt like a symbol for his life, really. People would always just barge into his apartment unannounced, leaving wet puddles in their wake. (Apartment would be replaced with "mission" and puddles seemed a sure-fire fit for "blood.") They should have been thankful that he didn't tend to go on full automatic in his sleep. He wasn't Number One ANBU for nothing, after all.
"So why are you all here?" he asked to no one in particular. His apartment was small enough that he didn't have to raise his voice.
Raido peeked his head out from the kitchen door. "Genma was rather insistent that we..." he coughed, "make ice cream."
"Genma wanted us to make ice cream," he said, shaking his head. It was a strange concept to grasp, but certainly not the strangest thing to have happened to him.
"That's what I just said, yes," Raido said. He slipped back into the kitchen, doing God-knows-what to his hardly-used cabinets and cutlery.
Tenzou blinked. "And he wanted it done in my apartment."
"I suggested we use your place as home base, actually," Kakashi supplied cheerfully.
"And why would you do that?" he asked, a distinct scowl twisting at his lips.
"Because you have natural A.C.," Genma said from the bathroom.
"Right, of course," he said, nodding his head. Of course. I mean, there is absolutely nowhere else they could've gone...
Genma showed up several seconds later and shooed him and Kakashi into the kitchen. Before meandering inside, Tenzou made sure to pick up the melting bag of ice--getting rid of this eye-sore was probably one of many to come.He folded the open part of the bag over and joined the rest of his "guests" inside the kitchen.
When he began searching for a good place to rent, he had stressed the fact that he wasn't home very often and didn't have many worldly possessions. So the first thing he had looked for was a small, functional kitchen that would allow him to feed himself without having to go out of his way to find the tools. When he landed above the nursery, he knew he had found the one: the kitchen was ideally created for one or two people to move about in relative comfort. To say that he wasn't presently feeling a little claustrophobic, virtually naked, squeezed up against three of his peers and superiors, was an understatement.
The grocery bags that Kakashi had brought were scrunched up and hanging off a cabinet handle. The contents of said bag were now placed around what little kitchen he had; a rather large jug of milk sat perspiring in the sink, while a bag of newly bought sugar lounged by the dish rack. Bowls he hadn't known existed were lined up along the counter, and a small brown bottle labeled "vanilla extract" was teetering on the edge.
"So," he started awkwardly. "How about you three give that ice cream-making a go, and I'll be in the living room if you need anything."
"We need you here," said Genma. "Kakashi told us you were a master in the kitchen."
Kakashi coughed. "I believe my exact words were, 'Tenzou knows how to boil water.'"
Tenzou scowled. "What can I say? It takes talent," he said dryly.
The sun was finally beginning to set when they finally finished. It was a very bittersweet victory. Most of the ice cream made it out alive, though they had yet to taste any of it. But the kitchen was a complete mess; a strange mix of water, milk and sugar coated the better part of the sink, and the bucket they had used as an ice bath was slowly beginning to overflow. Tenzou cringed at the thought that, as his luck stood at the moment, he would be the one made to clean all of it up.
Raido had left to lounge in the living room two minutes into the journey and had been spared the horrors of shaking a tentatively closed bag of ice cream solution, wrapped in another bag filled with salted ice cubes. Genma's bag hadn't been sealed properly and sloshed out all over his pants and Tenzou's kitchen floor. Kakashi had made Tenzou shake his bag, citing old age or lost kittens or something for his laziness, and had simply given off-handed comments on Tenzou's speed of shake. (Which was slow, yes, but who was Kakashi to complain?). But Tenzou had to hand it to Kakashi--the man had to have had some skill if he could make it through twenty-odd years without starving to death.
He wiped his brow and brought the two bags of ice cream out to the living room. Kakashi trailed behind, carrying several bowls and spoons in the crook of his arm. Raido and Genma turned to look at them when they entered, and Tenzou suddenly felt very smug when he realized that his two bags were the only ones sought fit to be served. Maybe he was as good as Genma had hoped.
"Do you think it survived?" Genma asked.
Tenzou flicked the top of the bag; it had a strange sad-sack look about it. "What do you mean?"
"The ice might have melted and gotten into the ice cream," Raido said neutrally.
Genma picked up the bag. "That would be undesirable." The bag seemed to agree.
"There's an ice cream stand just down the block, " said Tenzou, "if it turns out to be salty."
It turned out that it was. They'd scooped an equal number of ice cream into each bowl and tentatively had a spoonful. And it was absolutely horrible. Tenzou could only compare the taste as a combination of sucking on limes and licking an anvil. They all placed their bowls back on the table. Raido looked indifferent to the whole situation while Genma gave the ice cream a rather wistful look. Kakashi went back to reading his novel as if nothing had happened. Tenzou was hoping that the failure meant they'd finally take a cue and leave.
Genma sighed. "I guess you need to go get us that ice cream, Tenzou."
He sputtered. "What? Why me?"
"Nose goes," Kakashi said.
Everyone touched their index fingers to their noses, except for a rather clueless Tenzou. He stared at them in bewilderment. They looked back at him, deadly serious. He could hardly believe it; they were grown men. Grown men using "nose goes"! He swallowed thickly and slowly started feeling himself cave under the gazes of his superiors. The voice in the back of his head crying out that he was better than ice cream runs, damnit! was being smothered by a very large pillow.
He swallowed thickly. "Favorite flavors?"
Putting his clothes on took a minute; his shirt took a better part of that time to find. It also took him several seconds to memorize exactly who ordered what, but by the time he touched the the alleyway floor, he knew that Kakashi wanted lemon, Genma wanted pistachio and Raido mint chocolate chip. Not exactly a top secret document, but he was sure some sort of blackmail could be eschewed from knowing people's favorite ice cream flavors.
He sighed. Being out in the open, even without the sun beating down on his back, made him feel uncomfortably hot. Not bumping into people, now that the general public decided to flood the streets, was a hassle he almost didn't want to bother with. The line at the vendor's was quite long and he had to wait a good ten minutes to get served. Juggling the four cups of ice cream was a small challenge, but the worst part was that he had to keep changing his grip on the cups--four felt close to mild frostbite in the heat. He turned into the alleyway.
The things he did for three guys he didn't even like all that much...
"Keep telling yourself that," he murmured quietly.
"Keep talking to yourself and someone will call a psychiatric ward." Kakashi was sitting on the dingy stairs, Icha Icha Paradise gripped loosely in his hand. He kept his gaze on Tenzou.
Tenzou wanted to frown, but handed Kakashi his cup of ice cream instead. "Enjoy."
Kakashi put his novel away and slid his mask down. "How much do I owe you?" He licked at a spoonful of lemon ice cream.
"Get Genma and Raido to go and we're even," Tenzou said after a moment. He sat down next to his sempai with a sigh.
Kakashi looked thoughtful. "Want me to summon Pakkun? Pistachio is his favorite flavor..."
Tenzou cracked a smile. "I'm afraid I'm not that cruel. But the mental image is pretty nice. What are you doing down here, anyway?"
"Getting in touch with nature."
"With the wild rats behind the dumpster forest, right?"
"Exactly that."
Tenzou noted that the ice cream was now sufficiently melted. "How do you figure I lure those two down here?"
"Just wait," Kakashi said. "They'll come looking."
Tenzou placed the two cups between Kakashi and he. He got started on finishing his. Tenzou wasn't a very big fan of ice cream, but right now, it tasted like the best thing in the world. It might have been the company, but he'd rather bet his money on the ice cream maker. He sent Kakashi a sidelong glance, who seemed completely oblivious to the world around him.
"What flavor you get?" asked Kakashi.
"Strawberry," he said cautiously. But it seemed that either Kakashi didn't appreciate strawberries or was simply curious, because he made no move to nick some.
The two of them lulled into a comfortable silence, side-by-side, after that.
"Freak weather," Kakashi said suddenly, still looking to be focusing all his attention on his ice cream.
Tenzou licked his spoon and looked up at the sky. He hadn't noticed before, but it looked like it was about to rain.