Hashirama was genuinely surprised she agreed to keep playing with him. Given the strange look she had given him at first, he had thought for sure she would take the chance to leave.
Instead, she shifted her chair a little farther so they could face each other better and began collecting the discarded cards.
While she was busy shuffling the cards, Hashirama studied her more closely.
She was lying back in her seat with such a lazy demeanor that gave off the impression that she was oblivious to her surroundings. Hashirama would have been fooled, but her eyes were far too alert for that to be anything but a disturbingly good act.
Not to mention that now, without other people at the table distracting him, he felt her presence subtly pressing against him.
It drew his attention enough that he took a moment to feel her chakra in the air. He almost jerked out of his seat.
Okay.
So the nice, unassuming lady is apparently strong. Far stronger than the average shinobi.
This made him reevaluate the look she had given him earlier. At first, he thought she must be a rough shinobi, but now he had the feeling she must be part of some clan.
There was no crest on her clothes to indicate which clan she was from, but Hashirama felt he should know even without one. But even if he did not, maybe she had recognized him.
The Senju's reputation had been worsening lately.
His father's increasingly violent actions against other clans had worsened the Senju reputation with every passing month.
The Senju had never been particularly beloved by the clans they fought, but there had once been a certain respect between them. They were powerful, disciplined, and willing to negotiate when circumstances allowed it.
That respect was now replaced by fear.
Butsuma had become more ruthless, more suspicious, and more willing to use Hashirama as a threat against those who got in their way.
As Butsuma's eldest son and one of the Senju's strongest young shinobi, Hashirama had become a convenient weapon in his father's hands. When negotiations failed, Hashirama was sent to make the threat more convincing. When another clan refused to cooperate, his reputation as a formidable shinobi was invoked.
Even when Hashirama himself had done nothing wrong, his name was becoming associated with his father's actions. That greatly affected how people perceived him, even his own clan members.
And Hashirama hated it.
He had spent years trying to convince himself that protecting his clan justified almost anything.
But lately, he had begun wondering where that line was supposed to be.
And how many people would start seeing Hashirama as part of the problem simply because he was Butsuma's son?
Sometimes Hashirama thinks he could make all of this stop if only he were willing to kill-
Hashirama shakes off the unwelcome thoughts. They had been following him everywhere lately. He had come to the tavern precisely to get a little time away from them.
He hadn't only wanted to gamble, but he had also wanted some company.
It was a rather pathetic thing to admit, but aside from his brother, Hashirama rarely spoke to anyone in the clan without some purpose attached to the conversation.
Tobirama had his own responsibilities, and Hashirama couldn't very well burden them with every doubt that crossed his mind.
So, occasionally, he came to places like this, where it was unlikely someone would recognize him.
He could lose a little money, laugh at his own terrible luck, and pretend that for an hour or two he was simply another young man with nothing more important to worry about than the next hand of cards.
His gaze returns to the woman across from him as she hands him a new set of cards.
She was clearly strong. She had recognized him, or at least reacted to him in a way that suggested she knew something about him. And if she belonged to another clan, she undoubtedly had reasons to be cautious around a Senju.
She had no obligation to entertain him, and yet she had agreed to another round even after everyone else had left.
It was a small thing. A ridiculously small thing, really.
But when was the last time someone had chosen to spend time with him without wanting something in return?
He couldn't remember.
The realization left a strange ache in his chest, one he quickly buried beneath a smile. "I just realized I didn't introduce myself. I'm Hashirama!"
The woman paused briefly, her long fingers resting on her cards. "My name is Kakashi. It's nice to meet you, Hashirama-sama."
Oh, she definitely knew who he was and was unwilling to give him her clan name.
He tried not to look too amused. "Let me buy you a drink as thanks for agreeing to stay and play with me!"
Maybe, if he was lucky, the two of them could strike up some kind of friendship by the end of this round.
Before Kakashi could protest, he raised an arm to call a waiter over. "Two bottles of sake over here!"
Kakashi wanted to ask him if he still had any money to pay for the drinks. But the words stuck in her throat when he turned to her with a bright, beaming smile.
With the Shodai Hokage looking at her with such a delighted expression, Kakashi had to cross one leg over the other to keep from squirming in her seat. This chapter was copied from novelping . com without permission.
What the hell is he so happy about? It couldn't have meant this much to him that someone was enabling his gambling.
The waiter set down two bottles of sake. Before Kakashi could reach for one to fill Lord First's cup, Hashirama reached for one of them and filled a cup before offering it to Kakashi.
Kakashi, flustered at being served, hurried to accept it. "Thank you."
"Please drink as much as you like!" Hashirama laughed, watching her flounder a little with it. He picked up his own cup to fill it.
Hashirama wondered if she was going to pull her mask down to drink. Even knowing he probably should give her privacy to do so, he couldn't help but want to take a quick peek.
Just to satisfy his curiosity.
But when he looked up, he was baffled to find her cup sitting in front of her, half-empty.
"Eh?"
Kakashi tilted her head at him in question. "Is something wrong, Hashirama-sama?"
Hashirama flushed at being caught. "No, nothing. Let's start the round."
Kakashi's eyes crinkled with amusement, her lips pulling up into a genuine smile beneath the mask.
Even the great God of Shinobi wasn't immune to the effects of her mask. "Okay, you can go first this time."
Even with the mask, Hashirama could tell she was smiling. For a brief moment, he forgot about the cards in his hand.
He watched the way her eyes crinkled with amusement. Although her mask concealed most of her face, he could tell the smile was genuine.
The way her eyes looked when she was amused was… endearing.
Then Kakashi raised an eyebrow, apparently wondering why he'd gone quiet. He hurriedly lowered his gaze to his cards, hoping she wouldn't think too much of him staring.
Right. The game. He needed to focus on playing.
When Hashirama finally registered the hand he was looking at, he couldn't hold back a wince.
Oh, he was absolutely going to lose again.
…Well, at least he was having fun.