"I didn't realize I was sup--posed to be se--ducing you," Genma said. He stumbled over his words, feeling them catch on his teeth, and shook his head to clear it. A yawn interrupted him, a deep, sighing breath. He stretched and sniffed, and took another bite of the quail. "But some guys like it if you're messy. I guess you're more the fastidious type. Figures."

"That's me," Kakashi said. He looked dryly down at himself, at ANBU black and white sporting grimy red-brown smears and stains, spatters of blood, flecks of foam, and god-knows-what else. Nothing Genma really wanted to contemplate too deeply, though his own attire was just as soiled. "Can't stand to get my hands dirty. They teach you observation skills, too?"

"It's a para--doxical thing. Ironic. You des--ire in others what you lack in yourself." Genma sucked the flesh off of a tiny quail bone and tossed the bone into the fire. "You're not a bad camp cook," he added. "Wouldn't have ex--pected that. You seem like the kind of shinobi who lives on rat bars."

"I'm a paradox," Kakashi said with some flavor of disdain. He looked darkly, sharply amused, as if he'd understood some complex and sinister joke Genma hadn't realized he was making.

Genma shrugged. "At least you're interesting. Although kind of an ass."