Too Much Water [Solo]

Sunny day. Yamato was missing the winter already.

He was sitting on a lonely wooden boat a few hundred meters away from shore. He had cast his fishing rod, and was patiently waiting for a bite, his mind drifting away every so often.

He had his usual attire, white everything. His jacket was laying gently over his shoulders since it was too hot to wear it. The only new addition was a large straw hat that Yamato had picked up recently to battle the sun.

It was a hopeful purchase.

It was not enough.

The hat cast a shadow barely large enough to cover his face, chest and biceps. His forearms were being scorched as they held onto the rod.

He could have pulled his arms in any time, of course. The sun was irritating, and his skin was changing color second by second. It had been a few minutes and there had been no bites. He could have just stopped holding his arms out, wait for a movement first. But no. In his mind, a fish was going to get baited any second now.

Now why was Yamato, a man who very openly and famously despised situations where he might get his clothes dirty or wet be fishing, out in a boat?

The competition.

He had to be honest with himself, the last few months had not been easy on his wallet: the festivals, the traveling merchants, the limited time offers…
The fishing competition was a good way of getting some of that money back…
While…
You know…
Avoiding actual work…

But that was not all.
It was competition.
It was an event.
Yamato couldn’t say no to that.

He cast his rod again…
He waited for a bite…

No bite. This was getting tiring.
Still…
It was better than doing any actual shinobi work.

Yamato looked into the blue of the sea as his mind once again drifted away.
What was he going to do with all the money if he won?
Did he really have any plans?
Yamato always had plans.

He had been looking into start a business in Tanbo, and the money could have gone a long way into help him get started. There were a lot of local places popping up lately, and Yamato himself even had been helping them. Maybe it was time he started on his own journey as a business owner.

He imagined for a moment what his life would be like…
Silent. Stable. Consistent.
On paper, it sounded like a perfect match for Yamato.
But deep down even he knew that a major reason Yamato was married to the shinobi life was the chaos that seeped into the steadiness every so often.
And…
Fighting against crime and spies was much more fulfilling than he imagined restaurant ownership to be…

His forearms were almost entirely red by now. Still no bite. He wondered if there were no fish on this sea for some reason, and he had failed to pick up on the rumors.
He doubted it.
All of the other competitors must have caught their fish somewhere.
Was there even any other body of water nearby?
He doubted it.
If he was having so much trouble, though, maybe it was the same for every one else.
Could the competition have ended with 0 fish, making everyone a winner?
He doubted it.

The slow and stable seemed good.
It sounded like the right choice to make.
It sounded secure.
It was boring.

He cast his rod one final time.
Bite or not, it was time.
He was back in.

Something.
This little excursion had already paid off spiritually for Yamato.
Still.
It was nice to know he wasn’t going to walk away entirely empty-handed.
It was a big fish. As an amateur, he didn’t know how big by just looking at it, but he had belief that it could have placed top three in the competition.

Oh.
Wait.
What time was it?

Yamato had failed to bring any sort of time-telling device with him.
The sun was still up.
That surely meant there was still time right?
Time for him to
row back,
carry the fish,
run through the streets,
find the weigh station
and
register his fish…

Yamato looked back towards the land. The boat must have drifted without him realizing it, as he was hundreds of meters farther away than where he had started.
This looked back.

Still, sitting and thinking about whether there was enough time to get back or not was not going to help.
He needed to try.

He put the fish into a large bucket full of water.
He started rowing.
He started rowing fast.

A few minutes later, he hit the shore.
It seemed like the sun was about to set.
What was the cutoff time?
He had no idea.
He just grabbed his fish, and started running through the streets of Tanbo, looking like a madman.

This was way too much effort for something this silly.
He didn’t want to admit to himself how much he actually cared about winning this competition.
He registered his catch.
Now all he had to do was wait for the results.