By and large, Ami had spent most of the month her instructor was away for either at home or at the training grounds, with the occasional trip to the library. her lack of friends her own age was an asset in this case, she firmly believed, as it allowed her to focus fully on practicing taijutsu stances and her aim with different weaponry. Granted, she hadn't been able to get in a real spar for the same reason, but she was satisfied with her overall progress, and threw herself even more into her self-study.

She had, several times, felt her stomach begin to knot in worry when another day went by and Shisui still did not return, but she sternly told herself to grow up; she was a shinobi, now, and shinobi shouldn't wring their hands over not knowing exactly how long a mission above their pay grade would take. Her teacher was strong, and capable, and he'd be fine, and either way worrying about him wouldn't bring him home any faster.

...she did wish, however, that she had worked up the nerve to give him the omamori she had made and gotten blessed for him before he left. But she could give it to him with the Valentine's Day gift he had missed as well when he returned, so she forced herself not to think of that either.

Still, all her self-scoldings and discipline didn't stop her face, or what could be seen of it from above her high collar, from lighting up when she finally saw him again, emerging from the Hokage's Tower. She hastily paid for the meat buns that would be her lunch and hopped off the high stool she had been waiting on, darting through the normal crowds to get to his side.

"Welcome home, Uchiha-sensei!" It was, perhaps, more enthusiastic than anything else he had heard from her so far, barring the times when her temper got the best of her. But her green eyes were bright, her long hair was still sticking to her temples and cheeks with sweat, and to the trained eye the after-effects of a vigorous work-out were easy to pick out. So perhaps the happy glow about her was from a post-training endorphin rush.