"If I see one around, I'll be sure to get him the appropriate nibbles," Asuma said, with a wry glance at Ginta's blond head. The other man's eyeline barely came up to his chest. Was everyone in ANBU a midget?

He headed for the door, grabbing his rucksack along the way--then pulled a U-turn to hunt for his keys. After thirty seconds of scrabbling through the tangle of armour and clothes spread all over the floor, he gave them up for (temporarily!) lost, and decided he didn't need them anyway. It wasn't like he had anything to steal. At least, nothing that wasn't already on his back.

Ginta was standing by the door, pale eyebrows arched up to his hairline. Asuma pinched his cigarette out, tossed it into the sink (mental note: buy a trashcan) and headed for him, absently feeling the weirdly smooth line of his jaw. One night's worth of growth certainly wasn't enough to make up for the two-month beard he'd had before.

"Quick, very unsubtle question before I'm too sugar-addled to think," he said, shutting the door and following Ginta down the corridor. "Were you around for Fox?"

He'd heard about it, half a year after the fact. And knew as much as one could get from a hastily sent messenger bird. But none of that compared to hearing the real story. And Ginta seemed to be in a sharing mood.