Asuma propped a hand under his chin again, heavy metal bracelet sliding down his arm. "Oh yeah. You're so sweet you might be asked to leave soon; you're making the other women smell bad." He snapped his fingers. "Oh wait, too late."

Across the table, Kuromaru paused in his grumbling to glance at Tsume and make the best quizzical face Asuma had ever seen on a canine.

He pulled his soda over and took another long gulp, immensely pleased with himself. "Twenty-seven?"