The Dusty Trail

A heavy sigh passed her lips as she shifted past the mess and ornaments, almost feeling like she was putting far too much effort into the movements – as though she was purposefully trying to tire herself out so she could stop earlier. A typical move from the rather lazy female, just thinking about all the house work she had to do made her mentally groan and her muscles ache. Even as deep green flicked around the room, Kitsune saw nothing really terrible about its state, it looked "lived in" and surely that was a good thing she had reasoned earlier that day with her husband who had, as always, not brought into her excuses.

So she found herself deep within the confines of the storage cupboard, something she visited regularly to hide away no longer needed but completely necessary house hold items but never looked in. A sinking black hole of hidden away treasures and dumped objects, covered in dust until they were unrecognizable, was her target today and a grimace crossed her features as she took in the sights. Kitsune could argue that for the small space to have become such a state Kakashi, too, had not been cleaning it – but the flame haired woman was more than aware that he would counter her and win, after missions and training he often tided most of their house. The silver haired man, who seemed to have never aged though she reasoned this was because he already started out with "old man's hair", disliked the thought of having to spend his money on a house but since he had been talked into it he disliked the thought of a house which had cost him money – so much at that – being anything less than perfect. He had, to his and hers dismay, become very house proud.

A choked cough and a tickling sensation in her nose snapped her away from her dwindling thoughts, her mind already betraying her by distracting Kitsune with any other thought than the task at hand, as a cloud of dust attacked her viciously from an over turned box and blocked her pathway into the never-ending mess. A quizzical brow rose as she wondered why it was, amongst the chaos and mess, there was such a neatly plotted out path – floor clear and lined either side by the debris of their living. – and more importantly, where this path lead to.

Suspicion crept over her, numbing her muscles from the ache caused by her lazy outlook and pushing her forward towards the end of the short but still immaculately plotted out route. In truth the storage cupboard really was only the length of the kitchen that ran alongside it, the width fitting no more than 4 of her at a push, and yet despite its claustrophobic atmosphere the walk seemed to take forever.

Even before Kitsune came to a halt the normally sweet and mild mannered Kunochis blood was boiling. She knew, she bloody well knew, exactly where this route led to. She knew what was in the box, the only thing in the dark and full room not covered in a thick film of dust, the area around it on the shelving smeared and disturbed from what she assumed where many visits, both past and present, to this exact spot.

Stretching from his spot of the sofa Kakashi did not pick up on the frustrated and strangled noise his wife had made from the depths of their storage cupboard, which meant he had no prior warning to the rude disruption of his well-deserved afternoon nap. Going on a week-long mission was bad enough, coming home to find that while she had obviously made the effort to not add to her mess but instead, find everything in the exact spot as it had been when he'd left was worse and drained his already empty body.

Of course he had picked up the mess, tidied the house and sorted out frankly everything at some point Kitsune could've found ten minutes to do, but as he had flopped down onto the sofa for that previously well-deserved rest even the silver haired man admitted – albeit silently- his next words had been rather mean. A chuckle left the back of his throat as he settled again into the cushions, her face flashing in his mind's eye as he had told her to go and sort out the cupboard as her punishment and not come out until it was tidy.

What he wasn't aware of was the ever looming presence of said wife, confined to the cupboard until her task was complete, stood over him with the box –completely dust free and worn at the opening – that was the source of her cliché, red haired rage. At the sound of his chuckle, normally something that left her weak at the knees and a knot in her stomach, Kitsune's fire peaked and she dropped the box onto his curled up side. Green orbs, ablaze with the anger vibrating through her body, watched as the books tumbled from their hide away box and sprawled over his body and the floor as the original weapon tumbled – now empty, behind the sofa arm.

"You said you'd got rid of them! No, what's worse is you promised me you had no interest in them anymore!" She snapped, not waiting for him to ask what was happening and why she felt the need to throw a box full of heavy books on him. He took his time sitting up, books falling from his chest to pool in his lap as he picked one of them up and thumbed the cover almost fondly – the action alone caused her temper to whip out again. "Before you even start you can't say you haven't! That entire cupboard is like a dust hotel apart from your box with your precious books!"

She continued to ramble and rant, making incoherent noises of rage and frustration – all the while Kakashi's gaze rested on the book which, she had very rightly guessed, he had been reading only two weeks ago. There was a hitch in her voice that alerted him to a change in her tone, a violent mood swing that would take her from a freighting anger to catastrophic sadness – a sad Kitsune was always very dangerous to the copy nin, a sucker for making sure she was content with him. If fact, it was that same facial expression that had conned him into the agreement he had broken, within three days might he add, and he decided a pre-emptive strike would save both himself and his precious collection.

"You know…if you actually tidied up for once, you probably would've found these months ago" He started, pausing as he weighed his options. Allow the red head to take away his books, and do god only knew what to them, or turn the tables on her and escape the victor? Another glance down to his hand and the decision was made; it was a win-win situation for him if it worked. "In face Kitsune, I'd like you to appreciate that I'm tired. You're angry and upset with me; I know that, but perhaps if you actually put as much effort into keeping our home tidy as you did in yelling at me now I wouldn't be tired. I would've slept the moment I came in and I'd be wide awake now for you to yell."

Slowly Kakashi took a moment to evaluate her face, mouth moving in silent protest as his words hit home, keen gaze watching as the younger female almost twitched in annoyance – a sign he took as victory. The laid back male never did enjoy being particularly strict with Kitsune, or with any one for that matter – it was far too much effort to marshal over someone as he had learnt as a child – and so eventually his expression melted back into its usual blank yet happy form.

"I'll make a deal" Speaking as he stood from the sofa, meticulously gathering his books back into the box before hoisting them up into his arms; "Keep this house, our home, tidy on your own accord. Top to bottom, every day, and I'll let you take my books away" the smirk was evident in his voice despite the fact his mask did its job of covering his tell-tale expression. They both knew that she would agree to the deal, the same as they knew if she upheld it Kakashi would valiantly give up his precious cargo without a fight; the knowledge they both shared that trumped both of those thoughts was the fact that Kitsune ever being able to motivate herself to clean that much – when she could be sleeping no less – would never, ever happen.