It had been a long day.
It all two days ago after a long jog that ended in injury and heartache. For the last two days Tengoi was unable to get the Hyuuga off of his mind, and the details of his hazy memory of what transpired between moments only got stronger, driving him further crazy. So, he did exactly as he only knew how to do, and got drunk. The first day was at home with a case of beer. The second day following with no workout and a hangover went straight into what remained of his liquor stores. Today? He was actually sitting on a barstool within one of the many sake houses within Konohagakure. He sat at the very end, furthest from the door, with a cup and clay bottle of rice wine looking incredibly mopey. It had not been a productive day in any sort of the word. He had awakened sometime that afternoon, found the bar about three hours ago, and had consumed one bottle of sake per hour he had sat.
The bar tender tried not to pay any attention to the drunk. He watched as the shinobi downed his twentieth cup of sake and reached up to shake the container to see how much was left; it sloshed lightly. With a sigh, the Ryuu reached back down to his pockets and patted them down before finding his wallet. He undid the clasp to look within and found very little remained. He still had to pay rent, which was coming up in few days, and the next staple wasn’t for another two weeks; there was enough there to settle his bills and nothing else. For the first time, ever, Teng finally found himself teetering at the edge of ‘rock bottom.’ He could already see his choices were: drink more and try to pretend everything is okay, or, not drink and wrestle the monsters of reality and responsibility.
“Another bottle, good barkeep,” was his response to his financial and moral dilemma.
It all two days ago after a long jog that ended in injury and heartache. For the last two days Tengoi was unable to get the Hyuuga off of his mind, and the details of his hazy memory of what transpired between moments only got stronger, driving him further crazy. So, he did exactly as he only knew how to do, and got drunk. The first day was at home with a case of beer. The second day following with no workout and a hangover went straight into what remained of his liquor stores. Today? He was actually sitting on a barstool within one of the many sake houses within Konohagakure. He sat at the very end, furthest from the door, with a cup and clay bottle of rice wine looking incredibly mopey. It had not been a productive day in any sort of the word. He had awakened sometime that afternoon, found the bar about three hours ago, and had consumed one bottle of sake per hour he had sat.
The bar tender tried not to pay any attention to the drunk. He watched as the shinobi downed his twentieth cup of sake and reached up to shake the container to see how much was left; it sloshed lightly. With a sigh, the Ryuu reached back down to his pockets and patted them down before finding his wallet. He undid the clasp to look within and found very little remained. He still had to pay rent, which was coming up in few days, and the next staple wasn’t for another two weeks; there was enough there to settle his bills and nothing else. For the first time, ever, Teng finally found himself teetering at the edge of ‘rock bottom.’ He could already see his choices were: drink more and try to pretend everything is okay, or, not drink and wrestle the monsters of reality and responsibility.
“Another bottle, good barkeep,” was his response to his financial and moral dilemma.