#kaka-chibi

[OOC:] Ano... For fear of stating the obvious and rather overdone Lycantrope idea ('cause really the Inuzuka Clan actually owns this) I'd say a Warlock, based primarily on the Old Norse derivation of the word varð-lokkur, which means "caller of spirits" or "summoner". In young Kakashi's case, said spirits would mostly take on the shape of tail-wagging, pup spirits or over the top, Water Dragons. Interesting enough the word also means "Oath-breaker" in Anglo-saxon (which ya know--awkward cough).

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! "

Kakashi was forced to angle his head back to avoid a twig up the nose, hues narrowing at the self-satisfied beam taking over every inch of his teammate’s face.

“Hn…what do you expect me to do, give you a gold star?”

Calloused fingers twitched, before they splayed out to shove the Uchiha and his ‘special ferns’ from his face, the boy constantly having to be reminded of personal space.

“Knowing and identifying are not enough, it’s the application that’s really important. 'Doubt you would remember that part, Obito.”

Continued from here:

Kakashi watched bemused as the Jōnin’s gaze travelled about them, sky-blue hues wide in confusion and trying to pin-point the source of the boy’s glower. If Kakashi had to take a guess, he would assume that the blonde was not used to, or seldomly found himself on the receiving end for any kind of ire (at least within the boundaries of his own Hidden Village). With the Jōnin’s attentions on their immediate surroundings and the vendor’s gaze fixed on the Ryō she was counting, Kakashi saw an opportunity and quickly sneaked two, saucy strips underneath his mask; some of the sticky Teriyaki coating his finger-pads and dribbling down his chin.

As meticulous a person as he usually was, Kakashi found that he didn’t quite mind the mess, being hungrier than he initially thought. Soon the chances for slipping more Teriyaki underneath his fabric veneer became near impossible, as a small crowd started to gather about them, some even going so far as to impatiently clear their throats, puff out their cheeks or tap a rude cadence against the blonde’s shoulder.

His guardian took it all in stride however, the red tinge colouring the tips of his ears the only indicator of his discomfort as he quickly led the two of them out of the hungry clusters and back onto the dirt road. Even on the path Kakashi found that he had to constantly increase his pace to keep up with the blonde, his unsure steps sometimes budding into a trot to keep the man within view.

The Hatake can’t recall the road being this busy when they first stepped out of the Internal Affairs Division, but back then he was too busy appreciating the smouldering rays of the sun and the simple feel of the dirt between his toes to really take in the people loitering within the streets. Perhaps it was nearing lunch time or a change in shifts, the many pairs of sandals and longer legs causing the boy to pull his slowly cooling meal tightly against his chest. He sometimes caught the stares of another shinobi or nosy civilian, the look often accompanying the badly-concealed whispers of ‘Hatake’ and ‘shameful’, but for the most part Kakashi focussed on the warmth of the Jōnin’s hovering digits barely brushing his hair and the mixed savours of sauce still lingering on his tongue.

When Kakashi was tasked with buying groceries by his father, he would usually head to the small, convenience store that sold pineapple suckers before the start of his academy classes. He has always been an early riser and enjoyed the crisp morning air, leaves barely brushed by wind and the sky still dyed a faint grey. It had the added benefit of the roads being mostly abandoned save for the occasional stray cat skittering across his path, the mangy thing scared off by the occasional ninja leaping across the roof tiles and gables.

There also weren’t other hands grabbing for the same produce that were on his list, other people’s baskets bumping into his sides, nor any queues complaining when he took his sweet time counting out the exact amount of Ryō requested by the always polite cashier (too polite to ever bother with useless small talk like: ‘You’re up early Kakashi-kun’, ‘Have any special plans for the day?’ ‘What do you think of the weather we’re having?’—Kakashi really liked that store) What’s more the small trader’s gem always had all of the things in stock that Kakashi needed, so he rarely graced the busier streets of the inner market.

The Hatake pondered informing the golden-haired shinobi of the quaint, convenience store and how it would be better to do all of their shopping from there in future, when the road made a turn, branching off into a quieter, less travelled route—If the blades of grass and the occasional rocky debris were any an indication. Kakashi found that he could breathe better, his trot easing into a leisurely walk as he once again focussed on sneaking bits of chicken passed his mask.

His meal definitely cooled in his attempts at dodging elbows and handbags, but he found that he could relish his bites more, tongue darting out every once in a while to lick the marinade from his lips. As soon as he swallowed his last chew, his sticky fingers crumpling the rice-paper into a ball, the Jōnin thought to interrupt the silence that settled between them with a question. The query itself caused the boy pause, unsure how to respond and if he even wanted to. He supposed that it was only natural that the blonde wanted to know a bit more about him, seeing as they would be living together for an unspecified time.

The fact that he also read a file about Kakashi had the boy fidgeting with his wrapper, wondering what it could possibly have said, if the Namikaze still had the file with him and if he would let Kakashi scan it for incriminating pictures and/or remarks if he asked him nicely. Eventually Kakashi settled on an undecided shrug, grey hues cutting to the Jōnin’s taller form, before he blinked.

“…I don’t know…I like a lot of things…I dislike a lot of things too."

Another cautious pause.

“Maybe Namikaze-san could go first?”

That was a safe move, yeah, answering a question with a question. Maybe if he could gather what it was that the shinobi wanted to know, he’d be able to better calculate a response.