.o19 To rest one's head on a person's lap
Ryu knew that his father got jealous easily of any one or anything that took away the attention of his mother from him. In the eyes of a six year old he witnessed a blatant rage from puff eye himself. (A nick name he made up for his father who looked like he had an ever lack of sleep.) At the time Ryu had a very bad case of the flu and was looking for comfort, which he found none in his uncle or his father. His aunt no offense creeped him out with those awfully steamy glasses, and his other aunt who turned in to paper was like his dad. So the most natural place was to seek comfort from his mother who didn't creep him out, wasn't stoic or too busy to take care of him. First she wrapped him in a large blanket, and fed him hot soups and medicine for his age bracket. Then allowed him to do what ever he pleased for the day until he timidly asked if he could lay in his mothers lap and watch a movie with her, in which the pink haired maternal figure obliged with a soft smile.
After a few minutes, nothing happened besides the flickering of imagery upon the modern screen that was mounted on a wooden platform. Often times those pale eyes would look at up at his mother, who nodded quietly before resuming the observation of an age appropriate movie. Though what was considered to be age appropriate in a shinobi life style? As it was a profession where children learn to kill, whisking away precious moments of play in order to perfect the line of their forefather's handiwork. As the boy's father waltzed in, as if looking for something or someone, namely his mother. Dark eyes narrowed at the scene though the pink haired woman who was his mother ignored the aggressive glances and glares of his father who looked beat up.
At first the dark haired child was afraid, knowing that being sick was a sign of weakness as well as finding solace in the lap of the woman who gave birth to you. When he got older, and flew out of the family compound like a baby bird testing its wings, Ryu realized that the old coot was jealous of the close, almost symbiotic bond he shared with his pink haired mother. But at the time of being six, and quite respecting of his father though very sick sat up right and scooted slightly away from his mother as if they were doing something shameful. Yet quietly her voice ordered to resume what he was doing before as she went along ignoring the glare and some indignant huffs from the kitchen that ran in to the den. Momentarily she smiled down at him, and petted his obscenely short hair slightly cursing Ino for cutting bubblegum out of it. Once again father emerged from what ever abyss he came out of, eyes were red now rather than the lifeless black that all Uchiha's had. Spinning with tomoes and all, He felt a hand on his shoulder in a quiet way of telling him to hold his ground.
A language of curses and rough tones wounded his mother, as she sat and took it all for her son. His ears were muffled from the violent intonations that were broadcasted so fluidly between the two adults with a Disney movie in the background. Her cheeks were red, and lips torn down with a whip of hair signaling his father's departure probably to train more. Ryu kept laying in his mother's lap, content as a child could be in the security of his mother until the fusuma slid open once more to reveal his father glaring still and sweating from what ever practices that he did. Again he demanded for her attention in absolute, and she just blatantly ignored him eyebrows daggering down ward dangerously though His father didn't even see the warning signs of a potential disaster thanks to his pigheadedness. Demands were made once again and this time a snort flew from his mother's nostrils, hitting Ryu in the forehead moving a few tendrils of dampened hair. He could feel tension arise from her like a dangerous miasma, ready to attach its self to anything that was considered threatening, and currently his mother was finding the longhaired patriarch to be a threat. Stupidly enough his father did come closer and her arm rose up and rested on the sofas armrest, fingers began a methodical drumming as Madara's voice still damaged Ryu's eardrums. Her hand went up and FLICK with her pinky she sent him scooting far and almost out the door in which he had came. His father was caught off guard, as his mothers lips peeled in to a grin before speaking haughtily at him.
"Oh I am sorry, did you want something dear? I am a bit busy nursing your son back to health" there was emphasis on Ryu, the only and current son to the Uchiha patriarch and matriarch. Anything that was to happen to him would either mean a crippled or dead son. His father soon twisted up his lips muttered something underneath his breath and stumped up stairs in a manner that screamed I AM ANGRY. His mother looked down at him and smiled, beckoning with a idle hand for him to continue watching his movie with out any further interruptions.