Sasuke wasn't typically fond of being told what to do, at least not by a stranger, yet he was finding it nice. Having some kind of routine in his life again helped, and it certainly beat moping about. He may not be finding the usual joy he did when it came to archery, yet it was a nice enough change that he appreciated it all the same. With arrow heads dulling, it wasn't long before he had to stop his session, collecting and putting away each arrow. It'd probably take a good few minutes to get them back all up to snuff, even longer if he had to do it himself; Itachi had taught him, but Sasuke had never really sharpened the arrows himself before now. Sooner or later he'd get some with heads that were durable too, but for training purposes he had hand made, very unreliable ones.

Tired and sweaty, Sasuke figured he'd trained enough and could go back inside. His arm ached from the strain the bow placed on it, and tomorrow at the academy he'd probably still be feeling the burn. That wasn't even including the [i]actual[/i] training he still had to do, which now was going to be even more difficult due to soreness. He could complain or get down on himself about it, yet if he did then he'd never amount to much as a shinobi. His life was probably going to be spent being largely uncomfortable, as if he wasn't already, so best to get used to it now. Their instructors always said the life of a ninja was a hard one, and the kids usually snickered or made jokes about it. People died in the line of duty though, and those who came back sometimes were injured beyond recognition, so it really was a hard life. Maybe they didn't appreciate it yet, his peers, but Sasuke knew first hand how dark a shinobi's world could be.

Lost in his own, dark little world he'd not paid much mind to Yura when he first came in, glancing at the glass of water as it was handed over. Nodding his head gratefully he took a long sip before setting his bow and quiver aside, taking a seat on a small chair. "You think... I look like a ninja...?" he asked, glancing up curiously. Weird, was all it took to look the part to be sweaty and tired? Nearly dropping his glass when he caught the towel, the young Uchiha went about wiping himself down meticulously; it wasn't quite a shower, but until he got a chance to really wash off this would have to do. When the bulk of the sweat was wiped clean he folded the towel at his side, ready to get to work on restoring his weapons.

"Um... In my room, near where I keep the bow," he explained, fetching his things and showing Yura the way. His room, despite all that had gone on as of late, was still orderly and clean as ever. The tools they needed for his arrows were in a small black box at his bedside, tucked beneath a table supporting a lamp. Grabbing said container he placed it on his bed, undoing the latch and pulling out a file, some polish and a bit of rough paper. "Nii-san... Uh... Itachi used to do this for me, so I'm not really sure what to do..." Sasuke mumbled softly as he looked between the objects, wondering which to use first. Was it the file? Or maybe the paper, then the file to refine the edges. And where did the polish come in?