The Case-Book of Kakashi Hatake

A Study in Silence {Part 2}

I had thought that I'd know what to expect when I saw Kakashi Hatake. My second unit during the war had been an ANBU one, after all, and since he was a former member, I had fully anticipated him fitting the common mold. Most of the ANBU that I had encountered were the definition of emotionless hardass; yes, they were caring and kind people, but that was buried deeply under layers of regulations, stringent rule following, and years of training to be killing machines.

The man lounging in the plushest armchair in the library, reading a huge stack of what looked like newspapers, did not fit my mold. His hair was an unruly shock of bright silver, not the close-cropped regulation cut that I had been expecting. Although, the hair along with the pale, vertical scar down his left eyelid and cheek comforted me; they were features that would allow me to recognize him fairly easily. You could see that though he was a very tall and lean man, his posture was atrocious even when sitting down. Again, that did not match up with the rod-like backbone of my former ANBU confederates. His black coat was unbuttoned, and his trousers looked like they'd never been pressed before while a dark blue scarf piled around his neck, almost completely blocking his face from view, like he didn't want to be looked at. I have to admit, my curiosity had immediately been piqued. Kakashi Hatake was without a doubt the most interesting thing to have walked into my dull life in recent months.

Sakura cleared her throat, "Watanabe, this is Mr. Kakashi Hatake. Hatake, this is Dr. Jin Watanabe."

His dark grey eyes flashed up from what he was studying to regard us momentarily before flicking back down to his reading material.

"Tell me, how was Grass? Still as war infested and ugly as ever?"

I blinked at him slowly.

How had he known that I'd been in the Land of Grass? Surely Sakura couldn't have told him since she had been with me constantly since I had imparted my tale unto her.

He flipped the large page of his newspaper tiredly, "I have found a nice apartment on Yaku Street, if you'd like to meet me there tomorrow at lunch to tour the place to see if it fits your requirements. I have the address written down here," he lifted up the hand not holding the newspaper open against his propped knee, and a piece of paper was clutched between his two forefingers.

I blinked again.

"How did you know that I was here for that?"

He set down his newspaper like it was the greatest injustice that the world had ever known, "I told Haruno this morning that I needed someone to go halves with me on a rent, and then not even four hours later, here she is again with someone who's recently back in the country. It wasn't a great leap in logic from there that she had introduced me to someone else in need of housing." He picked his article back up, "Well, might as well air it all out to begin with... I keep extremely early hours, though I do my best to be quiet in the mornings, all manner of strange people tend to come call on me, I go through periods where I have no motivation to do anything but lie still and read, I keep a dog, and I like to play the violin while I think. If none of those pitfalls bother you, we should do just fine."

This was going to be interesting indeed.

"If we're naming imperfections, I might as well have a go myself. To start with, I can't recognize faces so don't be insulted if you change something about your appearance and I no longer know who you are. I have insomnia so I keep to no set sleeping schedule at all, have a very short temper when I'm tired, and am prone to having panic attacks when I look in the mirror. I have another set of shortcomings when I'm well, but for now, those are my vices."

"Alright then," he held up his piece of paper with the address on it for me to come and grab, obviously too lazy to lean forward the two or so feet needed to hand it directly to me, "I'll meet you here tomorrow at noon to tour the place."