"Date?" Asuma said, bewildered, having managed to pick one word of sense out of Kuromaru's torrent. "What dat--dude, don't bring it back!" He scrambled up, heavy boots hitting the floor, and grabbed the former-squirrel around its former-middle. Old blood squished beneath his fingers, matted into soggy fur. He pulled a face and headed for the window, yanking it open to fling the tiny corpse outside.

Kuromaru made a dismayed half-howl noise. Asuma wheeled on him.

"Why are you bringing me rodents?" He looked at his red-stained palm, pulled a worse face, and scrubbed it against the leg of his jeans. "And why would Tsume... why Tsume in general?"