“Not me.” Asuma’s grin was a sharp, wry thing. “Haven’t you been listening? I spent that whole mission gettin’ my ass handed to me on a plate. I did manage to talk Tsume through a lock-picking jutsu later, after they threw us back down in the hold. An’ lemme tell you, a buck-ten of naked lady balancing on your shoulders when you’ve just had em’ flogged is no kind of fun. We spilled out onto the deck right when the new buyers for that damn weapon showed up. Got caught up in a knock-down, drag-out.”

They’d caught him. Used him as a demonstration. Caught Tsume. Wrenched her naked and open between blood-thirsty men. He remembered the hand skidding down her belly, forcing its way between her legs. The keen rising from her throat. No—no—no—.

He sat back.

“Busted my skull pretty good that third time, but it turns out the Inuzuka have this transformation trick. She did some funny piece of chakra, an’ next thing you know there’s this black-haired, blue-eyed wolf charging around, tearing out throats. She stole the weapon back, got it to me, an’ I turned it on them. Managed to get a bit of my own stabbin’ done, too, which was cathartic. Then we stole the ship, sailed it to the nearest bit of coastline, booked ourselves into a hotel and ran up the room service tab until a rescue team came out to drag us home.”

He pushed his coffee aside, replaced it with a new cigarette and sparking flame of chakra from snapped fingers.

“So, if anyone ever asks you who’s better—it’s ninja, hands down. An’ I’ve got the scars to prove it.”

The blended mix of anger and second-hand appreciation on Ryouma’s face tripped, suddenly, into something else. His eyebrows twitched together. “So... how come Kuro wasn’t there? I didn’t think she’d go anywhere without him. Or—” Alarm spiked in his voice. “When did this all go down?”

Asuma had to think. “Beginning of April? Her dog was getting some kind of chakra-healing treatment. She wouldn’t’ve come out at all, but we needed a fast tracker an’ Kakashi was in hospital.”