Ginta didn't miss the threat of a concealed weapon, or the dropping of it. That was a good sign, definitely a good sign. He grinned, kicked off his slippers, and sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed. The plate of fish-shaped pastries he extended to Asuma. "I brought red bean and chocolate, and a couple of peanut-butter with banana cause they were the special of the day and I figured they were worth trying."

He studied Asuma's sleepy face, still creased and red where it had been shoved into the pillow. The mop-headed skinny kid had definitely grown into a decent looking man. Ripped, too, which suited him, Ginta decided. And he had enough of a beard-shadow to show he could probably grow one if he wanted to. Got that from his father, no doubt, although the Hokage's beard was a fairly trim one.

"So you really don't remember me? Oh well, and here I thought I'd made an impression. Sakamoto Ginta. I live next door now, but last time we saw each other I was probably... Let me think..." He stared off into space for a moment. Noticing where weapons had been hastily discarded. Where a brand new ANBU uniform hung gleaming in the open closet. Where the tattoo on Asuma's left upper arm was covered by a bandage.

Maybe he really was a rookie.

"Probably ten, I think. At some meeting between my grandpa and your dad, but that time you didn't give me the time of day. Had some kind of tutoring thing set up, I think. But you've got to remember the time we tried that water jutsu indoors and wrecked some fancy rug."