Shooting Straight

Chapter 5

It was already dark by the time Arrow managed to drag his sore and screaming body home from an especially gruelling training session; his clothes uncomfortably stuck to every curve and crevice, leaving him itching and pulling at them as they became suddenly suffocating. As he arrived at his front door, his chest rose and fell with the steady, heaving pace of his expanding and deflating lungs; he opened the door and tossed his shoes carelessly to the side, quickly taking notice of the small note resting against a bowl of bruised fruit. He picked it up, seeing his name written in Ash's messy scrawling handwriting on the white face of the paper. The undeniable feeling of dread amassing in his stomach was promptly ignored. 

'Arrow, 
The Hokage requested me for another mission out of the village, escorting some fancy done-up prince. I'm truly sorry I can't be there to celebrate your (second) genin graduation, but we'll go out for dinner when I come home. On me, of course. 

Proud of you, kiddo. Ma and Pa would be too.
I hope you got Ma's hitai-ate. It would mean a lot to her if you wore it. 

There's another graduation gift on your bed for you. I promise I'll see you soon.

Love, Ash'

Arrow sighed, being unable to claim surprise as he mindlessly threw the small note off to the side, where it slid off the corner of the counter and fluttered gracefully to the ground. 

His mind was flooded with disheartened thoughts- ever since they'd moved to Konoha, Ash had been continually sent on missions, usually of the dangerous variety, that kept him away for longer than Arrow would've liked. To him, it seemed that he was spending more time alone since he'd found himself in Konoha; a dull ache resonated through his chest. 

He chose to ignore the tangy feeling of resent as he pulled his saturated shirt off his fevered skin, discarding it in the laundry big and swapping it for a loose grey tee and some casual sweatpants. He abandoned his holsters in a corner, briefly taking note of how disorganized his space was- before supposing it couldn't be an issue when there's nobody around to get upset about it. He didn't bother to take a look at the wrapped box on his bed- he just resentfully dropped it to the bottom of his trash can.

Arrow returned to the kitchen at the groaning request of his painfully barren stomach, humming to fill the darkened silence as he swiftly retrieved the necessary ingredients for yakisoba- adding chicken he found in the freezer. While he loved to cook, he rarely found himself doing it due to his raging loathing for doing dishes.

Upon the completion of his dish, Arrow found a seat at the edge of the counter and began to pick at the food he'd made, finding his appetite had somehow gotten lost on the way; as it was already getting late, he quickly forced a few large mouthfuls down before abandoning his dishes stacked in the sink, leaving them to be tomorrow's problem.

~~~

Seishi lay in bed, staring mindlessly at the ceiling, making shapes of the shadows in his head to keep himself entertained. He let his mind wander, soon beginning to lose interest in the shadows and finding it in the pondering of what Arrow was doing at that particular moment: sleeping, most likely, or maybe hunched over on the living room couch with a small reading light on the table as he immersed himself in a new sketch. Seishi heaved a sigh, wiping away the vision he'd created in his mind's eye, and beginning to recall the events of the day.