Genma looked around reflexively, assuming someone was not only listening, but perhaps even setting him up. The crowd seemed to be paying them no mind, however. And if the Uchiha had arrived back where they’d left the dueling civilians, there didn’t seem to be any fallout yet. “Can’t really tell you specifics,” he said. “But there’s definitely some talent out there. I bet we pick up at least six rookies.”

Katsuko inclined her head briefly in a hint of an approving nod. “That’s good to hear.”

Maybe she had been setting him up, though it was a bit of a stretch to assume she’d staged the civilian fight as a pretense for drawing Genma into an unwise conversation. Probably she was just another slightly-paranoid ANBU, like he was.

She dug in the bag she was carrying and extracted a bottle, tossing it to Genma like a reward for his discretion. He caught it: a sweat-beaded bottle of Gold Leaf brand green tea. Then she stared at him so hard he could practically feel the pressure of her gaze.

“Uh...”

She nodded at him.

The seal was unbroken. And she’d confirmed she’d been in Shiratori’s lecture. He remembered seeing her at HQ. If he thought a little harder...

“Rat mask!” He snapped his fingers and uncapped the tea. She was one of last year’s rookies, so probably not a plant from Intel. “Thanks.”

She blinked, then studied Genma’s face like she could picture the mask there if she concentrated. “And you have the dog-cat... thing.”

“I did,” Genma agreed. “I just got a new one, actually. Quartermaster decided he didn’t like the way the old one was fitting my face.”

“As long as it's not a squirrel,” Katsuko said with a sage nod. “Rats are cunning little bastards, but I couldn't respect anyone wearing a squirrel mask.”

“My last captain was Squirrel. He’s pretty kick-ass, actually,” Genma said.

“Then I’m sorry for him,” said Katsuko, with a sympathetic head bow. “I truly am.”

Genma chuckled. “It could be worse. And I lucked out — my new mask’s a tanuki. Got the raccoon eyes and everything. Or I suppose it could be a panda, but I’m gonna go with tanuki.”

Katsuko snorted back a rough, entirely unladylike laugh. “If there is a panda mask,” she said, “it’s probably reserved as punishment.”

“Probably.” Genma took a long swig of the tea. “There’s that spider-masked guy, too. Wonder who he pissed off. I know he’s not an Aburame; they’d think it was a compliment.”

“Maybe it’s meant to reflect his personality,” Katsuko offered.

Genma stepped deftly over the corner of someone’s unattended blossom-viewing picnic, angling across a patch of new grass towards a cluster of stone lanterns. “If masks reflect personality, you’re a crafty schemer, and I’m a ballsy shape changer?”

“I could be crafty,” Katsuko said, looking thoughtful. “Scheming sounds like too much work, though. Give me a bar brawl anytime.”

“I guess that doesn’t surprise me much,” Genma said. “Seeing as you were advocating throwing those idiots in the river. What were you doing tonight anyway? Meeting someone?”