Excerpt:

The old man's eyes were locked on mine, as bright and fiery at his current age as they had been when he was younger. "But she's more than that. She's an all around good woman. Very kind." It was a statement, not a question. The Hokage was not asking for me to confirm this, just stating it as it was. I couldn't disagree with this either, even though I couldn't figure out where the hell the old man was going with all of it. Kurenai was a bit of a puzzle to me, a bit aloof but, as he said, decent. Kind. "Yes, Sir."

He took the pipe from his mouth, tapping the end thoughtfully against his bottom lip. "If I remember correctly, Kurenai and her team should be back from their latest mission tonight."

I said nothing. I'd known that already; if things had gone well, they should be getting in tonight, or possibly in the morning. It had slipped my mind, though, in the midst of the challenge that was the mission to paint the Hokage's house.

He stared at me. I stared back, waiting. The look in his eyes was intense, like there was something he was trying to tell me. A trace of frustration rose tight in my chest; I can't stand this sort of guessing game. Never have. I believe if you want someone to know something, you should come right out and tell them. It saves everyone time that way.

I shifted my weight back to the other leg, trying my best not to look too impatient. I must have failed, because the Sandaime shook his head slightly, returned the pipe to his mouth, puffed at it a bit and finally reached for the nearby pen. He quickly scrawled the characters for his name at the bottom and flipped the file shut, holding it out to me.

About time. I stepped forward, hand reaching out to take the end of the offered folder. To my surprise, though, the Hokage didn't let go. His grip was tight and firm, and the folder was held steady between us. His eyes locked on mine with a fierceness I recognized from my youth; it was a look I'd always received whenever I'd been about to get a talking to.

"Asuma," His voice was was stern, a tone I also recognized from my younger days, but there was something else there as well. Some sort of desperation I couldn't put a name to. "Don't wait too long to decide what it is you want. By the time you make up your mind, you might find that it has slipped away from you forever."