Just when Asuma was starting to wonder who'd lost their highborn little teenager in the middle of ANBU's HQ, the guy said his name and tripped a few brain cells. Ginta, the guy Tsume had mentioned last night. Sakamoto Ginta, in fact; and man, wasn't that a quick stagger down memory lane?

Asuma snapped his fingers a few times, trying to call up the face he almost remembered, and finally gave it up to look at the one in front of him--then gave he Ginta a full once over. Grey cargo pants with more straps than anyone surely had a use for hung loose enough to conceal a multitude of weapons. A bright koi fish splashed its way over summery blue cloth, weaving over the narrow chest and down one arm, distracting the eye. Well made, urban-trendy clothes, bought from expensive places by someone with cash to burn. He glanced back up at Ginta's face. Pale skin, gleaming, mirth-filled eyes; angles, shadows, and a lean, slightly hungry look well hidden in that bright smile that warned him to be careful.

Given that the guy was already sitting on his bed, Tsume's earlier comment could probably use some paying attention to. Asuma had no issue with men that walked the other side of the street, but getting pounced on by one first thing in the morning was toeing the line...

Still, cake.

"Damn," he said cheerfully, taking one, "you didn't grow up at all. What happened? Forget to eat your greens?"