Raidou blinked, stared, and had to put his head in his hands until the laughter went away. The restaurant's gentle dinner ambiance fell into a widening pit of silence as one shinobi choked on curry, and the other choked on mirth.

"See?" Raidou gasped, when he could almost breathe again. "Devil food! And that's what you get for checking my pulse." His pulse, as if he were some civilian child about to fall over from food poisoning. He leaned an elbow on the table and tried to inhale without falling back into laughter.

Genma had turned slightly purple.

Raidou gave up and put his head down on the table, shoulders shaking. His lungs hurt. "I think," he managed, speaking into the fine linen cloth, "we should call it quits and do something else. Food clearly wants to kill us."