Teuchi poked his slab-like face between the curtains to the back room of Ichiraku Ramen. "Ayame," he hissed. She was in amongst a forest of cooking supplies, seated on a cardboard box that read "oil" and feet propped on another labeled "eggs." Her pretty face was flushed with recent exertion and silken wisps of hair were escaping the neat white handkerchief that normally held them away from her face and the food she served. Her eyes had been shut, but at the sound of her father's voice, she knitted her brows and lifted one lid. She answered him crossly.

"I'm on break!"

"No you're not - you're serving a customer."

"I've been moving boxes all morning - you serve the customer."

"No, I think you should serve this customer," he hinted, inching into the back room.

Ayame jerked out of her reclined position and sat up straighter, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Who is it?"

Teuchi merely smiled knowingly at her. Ayame shot off of her improvised seat to peer behind the curtain dividing the storefront of Ichiraku Ramen from the cluttered storage room.

The figure seated at the counter was reading a cheap romance novel. A single bored eye roamed the page in front of him. The remaining three-fourths of the young man's face was swathed in a mask and a shinobi's headband pulled crooked to conceal his other eye. The massive shock of silver hair that crowned his head bobbed as he shifted his weight and flicked aside a page in the trashy book.

Ayame pulled back from the curtain and gave her father a skeptical look. "Father," she muttered sotto-voce as she shook her head with fond exasperation, "you are a funny man - it's only Kakashi-san."

She made to return to her seat among the boxes, but Teuchi barred her way. "I mean it - go do your job."

"Father - you can't be serious..."

"Very serious."

"You need to stop trying to fix me up with every young man who comes to the shop," she chided, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, I'll stick to just this one young man from now on."

"Father, I am not interested in a ninja," she murmured, crossing her arms emphatically.

"Not unless it's Iruka."

At this Ayame turned a delicate shade of pink and attempted to shush her father, but he would have none of it. He raised his voice a little as he pontificated: "You need to set your sights on someone more worthy of your attention - if Iruka hasn't noticed you by now, he probably doesn't have enough wit to ever catch on. Kakashi, on the other hand, is --"

She attempted to cut him off with a furious hiss. "Father! He'll hear you!"

"Tosh, he's not listening to us - he's reading: a fine pastime, reading - sign of a good mind. Now if I were you, I'd get out there before he decides to go eat someplace with better service - or prettier waitresses! --"

"Father, please, I'll go, just quiet --"

But Teuchi's voice jumped again in volume: "heaven knows a powerful ninja like that has many silly, silly females fawning over him!"

Ayame didn't stay to hear any more, she swiftly tied on her apron and hurried out through the curtain, seething. She glanced at Kakashi, but he appeared just as intent on his book as ever. Silly man probably was even more clueless than Iruka. She stalked over to him and asked, rather sharply: "Can I help you?"

He glanced up at her and raised a disinterested eyebrow. "Yes, an order of ramen - with extra egg and barbeque pork."

"Fine." Moving off, she began to assemble a bowl of ramen with more force than was necessary. She felt a single eye track her movements around the stand as she vigorously chopped a boiled egg and tossed it with angry flourish on top of the heap of noodles and meat.

"There," she exclaimed with finality as she plunked the burgeoning bowl down in front of Kakashi. He deftly plucked his book out of the path of some broth that sloshed onto the counter - this normally would have elicited multiple apologies from Ayame, but she took no notice.

She turned to retreat back to the storeroom, but her customer had other ideas.

"Excuse me."

"What?" she snapped. If Teuchi heard her tone, she would no doubt get a lecture on the proper respect due to the customer – especially a high-ranking ninja like Kakashi, but she'd had just about enough.

"I believe you're out of chopsticks." His gloved hand pointed to the two empty canisters on the counter. Ayame flushed; refilling those was her job. How had she forgotten to do that? Without answering him, she flung aside the curtain and marched into the storeroom. Ignoring her father's hissed attempts to pump her for information; she grabbed a new box of chopsticks, and returned to the storefront, tearing at the cardboard as she charged.

Thrusting a set of chopsticks at his masked nose, she asked if there was anything else he needed in a tone that said, 'you better be satisfied with what you've got.' Kakashi shook his head, and she whirled around to return to the back room.

As she reached the curtain, Kakashi's mild voice called after her.

"I'll give your regards to Iruka."

Ayame blanched, half turned back to Kakashi, thought better of it, and scurried through the curtain to the safety of her boxes. The last thing she heard was the crack of the chopsticks breaking apart and a murmured "itadakimasu".