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Fighting Words and Dirty Talk [closed to Ginta & Asuma][Mar. 12th, 2009|07:41 pm]

fallen_ginta
Takes place Sunday, March 16, the morning after Pleased to Meet You, Won't You Lock Me in a Cage, two days after Keeping Secrets with the Koi.

Ginta was a well-connected gossip, so it was no surprise that he was one of the first to know that the Hokage's prodigal son was back. In fact, not only was Sarutobi Asuma back, but he had been sworn into ANBU almost as soon as the ink was dry on whatever abbreviated background check they'd done on him. Rumor was he'd had an ANBU tail the whole time since he ran away, anyway. He'd spent a while bumming around playing farmer and sword-sharpener and a few other things, then settled down and become a respectable shinobi, standing as one of the Twelve Elite who guarded Fire Country's highest-ranking Daimyou.

Blood proved true, was the word on the street. So it was no surprise at all that after that little coup attempt on his daimyou went bust, Asuma was back in Konoha wearing the leaf on his forehead like he'd never left it. Ginta had to wonder if Asuma's retirement from daimyou-sitting duty was by choice or edict. For that matter, there was every chance those twelve guardians had all been undercover ANBU to begin with. He was definitely curious to see how fresh the ink really was on Asuma's tattoo.

Besides all that, they'd sort of known each other as kids. Back when Sakamoto Gousuke had brought his prodigy grandson along on visits to the Hokage Palace, when Ginta had been six or seven years old, Ginta had been delighted to find another kid there amongst the ninja and old men. A playmate his own age, although even then he'd been the smaller of the two. By all reports now, Asuma was huge.

So he decided to do what any sensible shinobi did when faced with unconfirmed rumors: he went to the source. Besides, Asuma lived right next door. It was only neighborly to check in and see if the rookie--if he really was a rookie--was settling in alright. Ginta even brought taiyaki, because that was what a well-brought up visitor with a sweet tooth did.

It was nearly eleven on a sunny Sunday morning when Ginta went to knock on the door to apartment 303. He was surprised to find it unlocked and slightly ajar. There were deep, manly but muffled snores coming from within. Ginta did what any good neighbor would do, and pushed the door ajar: if the rookie had gone out drinking, for example, and was passed out in his pillow, he might suffocate! It would be verging on treason to let the Hokage's own son suffocate.

The sight that met his eyes was mostly what he expected: bare room obviously not yet moved in to, with a giant of a shinobi face down on the bed, fully clothed, with ass-kicker boots still on. One hairy arm dangled off the side of the bed, sporting a blue bangle bracelet. Tight, torn jeans made him look a little like a wet dream in the flesh. A heavy armoured jacket completed the picture. Shinobi off duty, it practically screamed.

Asuma must have gone out drinking, and come home so soused he'd passed out face down without even bothering to take off his shoes. Ginta wished he'd brought a camera. Although the man didn't smell of alcohol at all, so maybe booze wasn't his drug of choice?

"Hey, kid!" Ginta said. "You got any toys we can play with, or should we just fight?"

He really wondered if Asuma would remember him.
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