Ginta cracked up, giggling like the kid he'd been long ago. "Pigeons! Stoats! That's brilliant. Can you imagine how bad it would have looked to the rest of the world? I mean, get taken out by a nine-tailed kitsune, and at least there's myths and legends and stuff. It's all epic. But pigeons! They could have shat all over the monument. Crushed Konohagakure under steaming piles of demonic guano!"

And that was why he'd liked Asuma when they'd been kids, he thought. Why he was probably going to find himself still liking him now. He had a fine appreciation for the absurd--a rare trait in the stuffy upper-echelons of shinobi society.

Too bad he seemed about as straight as a guy could get.

And honestly, did he really need to be complicating his life with thoughts like that? He should find Genma and get laid. The guy had been by looking for some company the night before Ginta's last mission, and he'd turned him away. Probably a mistake.

He pushed open the door to the stairs, assuming Asuma would disdain an elevator as much as he did. Too confining. Too risky. An elevator was fine if you were injured or exhausted, or really drunk. For going up, anyway. But down, there was really no excuse. He wasn't sure why ANBU even had an elevator, although he supposed a lot of ANBU got injured, exhausted and drunk...

"That thing about where it came from? Big debates. I never heard any kind of definitive answer, but my money's on it being a summon of some kind. It's right out of the fucking storybooks, but sometimes those stories I guess are true."