a jealous assistant and a meddling hokage
kakashi doesn’t look up from the paperwork when he says it.
“you know, the sand delegation’s been getting a lot of attention lately.”
shikamaru pauses mid-scratch of his pencil. “…that so.”
“mm,” kakashi hums. “especially their strategist. very popular. heard three jonin volunteered to escort her yesterday.”
the pencil resumes moving. a little slower.
“troublesome,” shikamaru mutters. “people should have better things to do.”
kakashi turns a page. “apparently she’s smart, sharp-tongued, politically influential… intimidating fan, i’m told that really does it for some men.”
kakashi glances sideways.
the pencil is still in shikamaru’s hand. it is also very clearly snapped in half.
“…huh,” kakashi says mildly. “supply budget’s gonna hate that.”
shikamaru stares at the broken pencil like it personally betrayed him. “cheap materials.”
“right,” kakashi says. “definitely not an emotional response.”
shikamaru exhales through his nose and reaches for another pencil. kakashi watches his grip—too tight. shoulders tense. jaw set.
“anyway,” kakashi continues, far too casually, “i heard she and one of our jonin had tea.”
the new pencil squeaks against the paper.
“and dinner,” kakashi adds.
shikamaru closes his eyes. “are you done?”
kakashi finally looks up, single visible eye smiling. “almost. i’m just curious.”
“about why my extremely capable assistant suddenly has the murderous aura of a man imagining several hypothetical funerals.”
shikamaru glares. “you’re imagining things.”
“am i?” kakashi leans back in the chair. “because from where i’m sitting, it looks like you’re worried someone might be… encroaching.”
“she can handle herself,” shikamaru says flatly.
kakashi nods. “oh, absolutely. still. attention can be troublesome.”
another pause. then kakashi adds, gently this time, “you could always say something.”
shikamaru scoffs. “what, mark territory?”
“i was thinking more like,” kakashi shrugs, “not pretending you don’t care.”
shikamaru looks away. “it’s not practical.”
kakashi smiles. “neither is jealousy-induced stationary violence, yet here we are.”
a knock sounds at the door. a messenger pokes their head in. “hokage-sama, the kazekage’s envoy is asking for you. temari-sama’s waiting.”
shikamaru’s head snaps up before he can stop it.
kakashi stands, stretching. “well. popular woman.”
he moves toward the door, then pauses beside shikamaru.
quietly, he adds, “for what it’s worth… she doesn’t seem impressed by the volunteers.”
shikamaru sits there for a long moment.
finally, he sighs, stands, and grabs a new pencil.
“…troublesome woman,” he mutters, already halfway out the door.
