"I caught a ninja."

Tsume blinked at Kuromaru where he stood above her futon, looking down at her. "Come again?"

He puffed out proudly. "I caught a ninja. He's in the subbasement, in a cell."

"You caught and imprisoned him?" she asked, just to be sure of what she was hearing.

"I did. I didn't want to kill him. He was in Hunter armor, but he didn't smell like any of us."

That was a little more alarming than visions of, say, Genma locked in a cell as a practical joke. She took a breath, then sat up on her futon and pushed to her feet. First, she needed clothes. Then, she needed--well, that was the question. The smart thing to do would be to sound the alarm, but she didn't want to send someone down there until she was sure it really was an intruder. Though not smelling like any of them was rather suspicious. She pulled a man's undershirt on, a ribbed tank top that fit like a second skin, and stepped into slim, black, drawstring pants. She was still wearing her fuzzy socks--those would do well enough for slippers. Her dogtags were on the floor beside the bed; picking them up, she ducked into them as she spoke. "You're sure he's locked in?"

Kuromaru nodded, looking stately. "I made certain the door was locked and the seals were in place." As if he did this sort of thing every day.

Tsume didn't grin at him, just kept her expression solemn. "Good job, Kuromaru."

His head rose even higher.

If the ninja was in the ninja cells, no jutsu would get him out. Any sort of jutsu he tried to throw at her would only sizzle and die, so all she had to worry about was weapons. Those were easy enough to dodge. She picked up a single kunai and held it with the blade flat against her arm, turning to regard her familiar. "All right. Lead on."

Proudly, he trotted out of the room and toward the stairs. Tsume followed.