“As your sensei I really can’t allow it.” Tan digits found the boy’s forehead despite the naturally unkept hair, “Not until you’re eleven, at least.” Blue hues narrowed a fraction at grey counterparts as subtle reinforcement, while the menu of the Izakaya lay open on the table; its special feature on seasonal saké the culprit of the conversation. [Remember our headcanon regarding shinobi and age of consent? Flake sensei is losing hairs over Genin Kakashi already]
Kakashi stared…and stared, his calculating gaze never altering from that of his mentor’s as he blinked at him from across the table. He didn’t understand what the issue was here, why the man’s digits made a grab for the (slightly sticky) menu as soon as he dared to page it open. Did he not get that Kakashi would have to actually /look/ at it before he could order something? Granted the majority of the choices seemed to come in liquid form--though that in itself could scarcely warrant the Jōnin’s actions. Kakashi was a shinobi and by law, should be able to do shinobi things (should he ever want to, at least).
Was this another one of the Namikaze’s strange tests?
Lips thinned underneath his mask, while he attempted to duck away from a calloused palm (wanting to avoid the hair-ruffle before it could come to pass). He wasn’t a dog, much less some kid! The man really ought to realize this by now.
“Sensei, that’s not fair! I'm a Shinobi, I could be dead before I get to eleven! "
@minaa-munch
