[Whenever he opens his journal again, he'll find about three minutes worth of Shikamaru rambling on the other end: useless, inane things not worth detailing. Eventually he stops, realizing his audience is gone.
He's still on the roundabout when Masaomi shows up, legs hooked over the edge and keeping himself upright by leaning forward against one of the handle bars. One cheek against the metal, he finds himself staring at the slide across the way, focused on it and only it entirely. Dredging up memories of when he was small enough to play in a place like this. He'd walk himself home, usually. Every once in a while, though...
"Dad... Can you let go of my hand already?" "Oh? Are you embarrassed?"
He smiles into the handlebar. What a stupid kid he was. Should've just held his hand.]
[Filtered to Masaomi]
He's still on the roundabout when Masaomi shows up, legs hooked over the edge and keeping himself upright by leaning forward against one of the handle bars. One cheek against the metal, he finds himself staring at the slide across the way, focused on it and only it entirely. Dredging up memories of when he was small enough to play in a place like this. He'd walk himself home, usually. Every once in a while, though...
"Dad... Can you let go of my hand already?"
"Oh? Are you embarrassed?"
He smiles into the handlebar. What a stupid kid he was. Should've just held his hand.]