Gane crumpled up the piece of paper, and threw it over his shoulder. It bounced off a good sized pile of similarly treated papers, and rolled to a stop in the grass behind him. Each paper on the ground was a failed letter to his father. He had been trying for the past hour, scribbling hastily, just to finish the letter. But he kept screwing it up. Either he put the wrong words, or too many words, or too many words which were wrong. He cursed under his breath. Why couldn't he have had a better relation with his dad? Couldn't his old man just own up to the fact that Gane wanted to be on his own? He may have only been fifteen when he left his father's home, but he was ready. He didn't want to be cooped up inside like a child, regardless of whether or not he was still considered one. The world beckoned. The world of a ninja beckoned. But Gane wasn't really a particularly skilled ninja. In fact, he probably lacked the mentality to be a good ninja. He was paranoid. He was so incredibly, ridiculously paranoid, that his father had tried to send him to a shrink. But that was when he still lived with his father. Those days were two years gone. He could be paranoid now without fear of consequence. Although, it probably only made his condition worse. It wasn't healthy, being wary of everything and anything. Yet, Gane still managed to put himself in danger more times than he could count. He was a fan of obscure and unorthodox tactics, even if it didn't always lead to success. Enjoying himself was far more important. Doing it right came second. So, here he sat, writing letter after failed letter to his father, trying to make amends for the tension between them. He crumpled up and threw another piece of paper, and like the others, it rolled to a stop in the grass behind him.