Like the rest of ANBU’s hallways, the stairwell was carpeted, dulling their footfalls as they climbed out of the Quartermaster’s domain. “Good questions. Which one of those do you want me to answer first?” Genma asked.

Ryouma’s head tipped to the side in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected Genma to actually try to field all his questions. “Whichever,” he said. “No, wait. I want to know about our pay. Especially if I get docked for ruining my armor.”

“Don’t worry. After they get through our reports, there’s no way they’ll find you liable for the damage,” Genma assured him. “Morita was just busting your balls.” He repaid Ryouma’s favor at the top of the stairs, holding the door for Ryouma this time. “We should get paid more, but it might take a while to get sorted out. We ran into an A-rank situation, but the lord who hired us was quoted a B-rank rate. Konoha could probably make a case for it being Fire Country security related, and hit up the Daimyou to make up the difference, but with the situation in the capital…” He shrugged, lips twisting wry.

“Daimyou's gonna be paying for security in the capitol, not bug-killing in the provinces, yeah.” Ryouma sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I heard in the cafeteria this morning that Hokage-sama took three teams with him to Hikouto and they sent another two the next day. Nobody's saying much more, though.”

“I haven’t heard much, either,” Genma said. Word at the hospital had been hard to come by—mostly rumors and hearsay—but it had sounded like the damage had been mostly limited to the Daimyou’s palace itself. The only burning question he’d had—what had happened to Asuma—was still unanswered. Every source agreed that the Guardian Twelve had turned on the Daimyou, but some said there was division in the ranks, with some of the Guardians remaining loyal.

And all the Guardian Twelve were dead.

He wasn’t going to give Asuma’s soul, or his own, peace by dwelling on it. He didn’t want to believe Asuma was capable of turning traitor, but time could change a man, and it had been more than a year since Asuma’d gone to serve in the capital.

“If it's classified, you can just say so,” said Ryouma, drawing Genma back.

“What? No, I—” Genma scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I don’t know how much of this you caught yesterday, but a friend of mine is—was— A friend of mine was a member of the Guardian Twelve at the Daimyou’s palace.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been trying to find out more, but all I know so far is that there was a coup and the Twelve were involved.”

“That’s shit,” Ryouma said emphatically. “I’m sorry.”