It was late in the afternoon. Academy was over for the day. Exhaustion and soreness were sinking deep into Ryo's being as he made his way back home, his usual caution dulled by the long day of training. He dragged his feet as he made his way back home, lazily drifting around people to avoid bumping into them. Today he couldn't be bothered to return any stares with a stern glare of his own. He just didn't care enough. For a moment he had to stop in his tracks, glancing around with a dull look in his eyes before he spotted where he was going.
'Home'. How did he even make the mistake of calling it that? The place didn't look or feel like it at all. It was a house. The one he was living in. It wasn't even that impressive of a place. If his 'father' was suppose to be such a great shinobi then how come he didn't have a better place? Not like he'd use a nicer house any more than he would this one. Old bastard was hardly around as is. Why would he care about a house he was barely in?
Ryo walked slowly up to the front door, fumbling with a key from his pocket before unlocking the front door and coming inside. He didn't know if his old man was here. He didn't care. All he could think to do was make a beeline for the couch, not even bothering to pat the sand and dust off himself before flopping down stomach first onto the cushions with a soft grunt.
He closed his eyes and tried to take a spontaneous nap on the spot but he already knew it wasn't going to work. He felt absolutely exhausted but his sore muscles and new cuts stung like little ant bites, edging him away from rest every time they began to prickle. Before long he was just laying there, staring off to the side. Too tired to move but not able to sleep. Great. This was his afternoon now apparently.
'Home'. How did he even make the mistake of calling it that? The place didn't look or feel like it at all. It was a house. The one he was living in. It wasn't even that impressive of a place. If his 'father' was suppose to be such a great shinobi then how come he didn't have a better place? Not like he'd use a nicer house any more than he would this one. Old bastard was hardly around as is. Why would he care about a house he was barely in?
Ryo walked slowly up to the front door, fumbling with a key from his pocket before unlocking the front door and coming inside. He didn't know if his old man was here. He didn't care. All he could think to do was make a beeline for the couch, not even bothering to pat the sand and dust off himself before flopping down stomach first onto the cushions with a soft grunt.
He closed his eyes and tried to take a spontaneous nap on the spot but he already knew it wasn't going to work. He felt absolutely exhausted but his sore muscles and new cuts stung like little ant bites, edging him away from rest every time they began to prickle. Before long he was just laying there, staring off to the side. Too tired to move but not able to sleep. Great. This was his afternoon now apparently.