{ @ignxsflxmes }
how long has it been, a year? two years? honou must have lost count of the days that have passed when he left his village to train elsewhere. on his journey back to Konoha, he stops in the middle of the dirt road, only to breathe in the scent of early spring. it fills his lungs with a particular warmth of nostalgia, and he can’t help but tear slightly of how much he already missed home. his mother. his friends.
honou snaps back, sensing a strange but familiar aura somewhere. training with his father has sharpened his senses, and while he does want to enjoy the ambiance of going home, as a shinobi, he cannot allow himself to become unguarded.
so when he senses the figure move, he throws his kunai at it, not realizing who he might almost hit.