Board Thread:Konoha Arc/@comment-24937485-20160325110650/@comment-27375402-20160327214433

The sun had arisen, the eyes of a child opened to reveal the piercing golden stare of the boy who had arisen as the day had just begun, sitting upright atop his bed, feet swinging through the air and the child sighs, turning to the cupboard to the boy’s right hand side, offering but a mere yawn. ‘Please, let no one die today’ the boy thought to himself before hopping off of his bed, approaching his closet before sliding the closet door open, retrieving the most suitable clothing, his usual training attire. Slipping a white short sleeved top to cover his torso along with a black vest over the boy’s shirt, his clan’s symbol residing upon its back between the boy’s shoulder blades, long black shorts which were cut off just beneath the knees and unlike the majority of the shinobi, the boy’s footwear consisted of sneakers.

Ryouta grasps his sheathed katana, sliding the strap attached to its scabbard over his shoulders diagonally, then placing a belt across the waist of his shorts, attaching 4 pouches upon the rear of the belt. Looking up the boy then grabs at the headband received upon graduation, brushing his thumb across its metallic plate a moment before nodding to himself, renewing his resolve then tying the headband around his left bicep, just over his left sleeve with the assistance of his mouth and right hand, the boy had tied it tight enough for it to sit comfortably. After taking a nervous, deep breath the boy steps out through the door to his room, stepping into the living room and bowing his head in respect to his parents.

“Mum, dad, I’m going on a long mission today. I don’t know when I’ll be back or if I’ll make it back, but I’ll try” the boy’s father beaming a smile as he arose to his feet, approaching the boy with a pat atop his head, his father was particularly proud of his child’s growth whilst his mother still shared a sense of discontent with the path he currently treaded upon. Yet despite her conflicting perspective on the lifestyle of a shinobi, his mother acknowledged that this was where he felt he belonged and wished him the best before offering the child a small packed meal, consisting of 4 small rice balls.

The boy smiled towards her before running back to his room to retrieve another pouch, one to hold the boy’s food, the pouch attached to his side as the boy slid the small box within, and though it barely fit he had managed somehow. Stepping out from the house, the boy offers a wave to his family before continuing forth, though of course, a stop had to be made, Ryouta first stopped by Konohagakure’s cemetery, dropping by the tombstone of a fallen comrade, whom although the child seldom drew close to him, felt the need to visit the boy’s grave regardless.

“Yo Akira, we’re about to head out to kick some butt. And hey, if I die, the first thing I’m gonna do is drop by and get that rematch. You may have won last time, but I’ll kick your butt now” the blonde child said in a somewhat comical manner, the pouring rain disguising the child’s agony, the boy still felt a tinge of guilt and sought to remedy his weakness. Nodding towards the grave, the boy arose to his feet, brushing his digits along the handle of his katana before pivoting about and walking towards the gate. The child’s eyes and demeanour shift completely the moment his back is turned, from the soft, kind-hearted boy, to the resolved primal shinobi.

