Open [Class] The Beauty of a Broken Thing Made Whole Again

Nozomi arrived to the now deserted area before the sun cleared the ridge. The springs were quiet before people arrived to give the place purpose again. Despite the destruction, steam still rose in gentle ribbons from channels she had already cleared and the air carryied warmth that softened the bite of the morning cold. The massive slab of marble rested where they had set it the night before. Nozomi stood at its edge with her sleeves rolled back, bone and clay working in concert beneath her skin as she shaped the first hours of labor into order. This would be her largest task of the day and wanted to make sure it was complete before others arrived. As such, she did not rush.

Demolition without intention was just noise. What she needed was far more than simple noise. She needed uniform blocks that could be used in a predictable manner. She pressed her palm against the marble and felt centuries of weight and water translated into lines that wanted to be followed. Bone slid free from her forearm, not violently, but with smooth transition. It formed a thin, patient wedge, then another. She set them precisely where the stone already wished to part. Clay followed to cushion, to guide, and most importantly, to keep fractures from running wild.

By the time the sun had fully risen, there was a pile of rectangular slabs stacked by size and thickness. Each one close enough to perfect that the final work would require finesse, but not force. What came next would not be her task to finish. Footsteps began to gather around the perimeter and she would point civilians to grab tools, carts, and show them where work needed to be done. They could begin to clear areas and layout paths to work. Within minutes the air was filled with the cutting of wood, the creaking of wheels, and the sound of men speaking in unison to get work in collaboration.

Nozomi adjusted the layout subtly as they arrived as she awaited Ruri's arrival. When the girl did, she would gesture to a stack without ceremony.

"This will be the first step of the day. They need blocks that match in width, depth, and height. Try to make each cut identical and square off these pieces into proper tile. You will set the pace for all these civilians as you determine how fast they can possibly work. You need to be consistent... not too fast or too slow. If they wait on you, we lose flow. If you rush them, mistakes will be made."

Nozomi would take a step back, and allow Ruri now to find her own timing and pace. After all, she was a bit tired from all the effort she has already exerted and took a moment to rest. Still, she would watch Ruri in this test of responsibility. Around them, the springs began to wake fully. Hammers rang into the hammer, carts rolled by, and the steam thickened as channels were reopened. By the time they were done here, the place would no longer feel broken.

[WC: 517, Class: 1/5, Total WC: 517]

Ruri arrived at the springs just as the site fully came alive. Carts were already rolling in slow, creaking lines. Civilians clustered around stacks of lumber and stone, voices overlapping as they argued measurements and assignments. Steam curled thicker than it had the day before, carrying warmth and the sharp mineral scent of worked marble. Ruri stepped through it without hesitation, body already loose from the warm-ups she’d finished at home hours earlier. She felt it, though, the soreness sat deep in her shoulders, along her back, coiled in her forearms like a quiet warning. Every movement tugged at muscles she’d pushed beyond their limits the day before. She welcomed it though, pain meant growth, pain meant she was forcing her body to adapt instead of settling. She kept her posture straight and her steps light, refusing to let even a hint of it show on her face.

“Morning,” she greeted as she came up beside Nozomi, giving her a sharp nod.

Her eyes swept briefly over the neatly stacked slabs. Clean, uniform, impressively so. When Nozomi explained the task, Ruri listened carefully, hands resting at her sides, already itching to start. Matching tiles. Setting the pace. Responsibility not just for the work, but for everyone else waiting on it.

Ruri grinned, sharp and eager. “Got it. Let’s make this place whole again.”

At first glance, it seemed easy, there were no fault lines to hunt, nor any stubborn stone refusing to cooperate. Just straight cuts, clean edges and repeat. She set her stance, compressed her chakra, and struck. The marble resisted immediately, not violently though, but in a stubborn manner. The cut went through, but slower than expected. The stone didn’t want to give in to her, she frowned and tried again, refining her chakra edge, thinning it further. Still slow. She worked through it, palms snapping forward in measured strikes till one slab came free, then another. Each was good, flat and usable, but the time it took made her jaw tighten. Civilians were already waiting, tools idle, eyes flicking toward her and back again.

"Too slow." The muttered to herself in frustration.

She pushed harder, sharpening her chakra further, cutting with both hands now. Progress came, but at a cost, her arms burned, the repeated motion aggravating already sore muscles. Sweat dripped freely, darkening her clothes as the frustration bubbled beneath the surface ever more.

“Come on,” she growled, teeth clenched.

Then it clicked. Why was she moving her arms at all? Ruri froze mid-motion, breath hitching as the realization struck her. Chakra wasn’t bound to muscle. It followed intent, she could guide it without dragging her body along for every cut. She stepped back to the stone, eyes narrowing in focus. This time, she planted her feet, and let her chakra move. The sensation was strange and uncomfortable. She forced her chakra circulation into unfamiliar paths, maintaining the sharp, wind-thin edge while pushing it forward in a continuous motion. The first attempt faltered, concentration slipping. She tried again and the stone screamed. Not loudly, but steadily, a thin, gnawing sound as sharpened chakra tore through marble in rapid succession, biting again and again like rotating teeth. Dust exploded outward in a pale cloud, coating her arms, her face, mixing with sweat until it clung to her skin like plaster.

Ruri didn’t notice, nor care, she was smiling, her plan had bore fruit so quickly. Slabs came free faster now, cleaner and more uniform that before. Her body still ached, but the strain shifted from muscle to focus, from repetition to control. Civilians began moving again, carts rolling, work resuming in rhythm with her pace. She exhaled, steady and satisfied, and kept cutting.

This wasn’t just rebuilding stone, it was her learning how to control her body, down to each tiny shift in blood flow, chakra irregularity and air without breaking herself to do it, her body was a tool that would listen to her, whether it wanted to or not.

[Class Post 1/5]
[Word Count - 664]
[Total Word Count - 664]

Nozomi glanced up as Ruri approached. The nod and the way her eyes tracked the piles immediately was apparent. The stiffness buried under discipline, a thing hidden beneath the straight posture and light steps. Nozomi saw it anyway, the training was taking a toll, good. Soreness now lived in the shoulders, the forearms, and the back as yesterday’s work had been written into flesh.

After having explained the task, Ruri took to it immediately. At first, Nozomi simply watched. The strikes were clean and the cuts were usable. Soon, even Ruri noticed that the time between them stretched too long. Marble resisted in due to its stubborn nature and Nozomi saw the shift in Ruri’s jaw as the civilians’ attention flicked, then flicked back. A new external pressure presented itself, one that Nozomi did not even have to impose. An external sense of others waiting on her, a thing that was difficult to ignore.

Still, Nozomi did not intervene. She watched Ruri push harder, saw the tension creep into her arms, and fatigue sharpened instead of dulling her focus. Sweat darkened fabric and dust clung to skin and material all the same. There was a realization and a pause, a recalibration of sorts that Nozomi recognized instantly. She saw it in the way Ruri’s stance changed. How her feet were now planted and shoulders lowered rather than tightening. The hands stopped dragging the chakra forward like a blade and instead held the power flat. She moved the tiles into place and dragged the stone across causing it to cut in a straight path. The cuts sounded different from here, there was no snap or crack. Instead, there was a constant screaming of the stone as it grinded away into even perfect tile. Dust did in fact burst outward into clouds and soon, the carts were moving in unison once again.

Nozomi stepped in then, not to stop her, but to redirect the flow of work. She guided the civilians back into rhythm with small gestures and brief instructions. She ordered those with finished slabs into staging piles and to clear the immediate area so Ruri wouldn’t need to break focus. By the time she had re-organized the people into lines for different material, Ruri had already created a mountain of tiles to be taken and redistributed. So, she would guide the girl to a new area.

"Good, now you need to keep both of these lines going simultaneously."

She showed Ruri the stack that she had left more whole on purpose. Using her own explosive chakra she would cut out a few marble shingles that needed to be cut into particular depth and shape. This would be more difficult, but the methods Ruri had used previously would serve her well here. To ensure the girl understood she even gave a second demonstration in approaching the cut from an angle to allow for the shape of the stone to curve as a shingle should.

If the girl understood, then Nozomi would go about helping the civilians where she was needed. Utilizing clay beasts of burden to carry material from one area to another or to aid workers in reaching places they would otherwise be unable to.

Hopefully, Ruri would be able to keep up with the two current tasks before Nozomi poured even more onto her plate.

[WC: 556, Class: 2/5, Total WC: 1,000+]

Ruri barely noticed the world beyond the stone in front of her. Her stance was locked in, feet planted, shoulders loose, chakra humming in a steady, controlled stream as it flowed from her core and out through her hands. The marble screamed beneath her technique, thin layers being eaten away in straight, disciplined lines. Each slab came free cleanly, identical enough that the civilians barely had to measure before loading them onto carts. She kept one eye on the stacks, never letting them grow too high or too sparse before shifting her position and starting the next cut. Too much idle time meant lost momentum, too much output meant chaos, over time she found the balance and stayed there. Sweat ran freely now, cutting paths through the pale dust caked to her arms and neck. Her breathing was deep and rhythmic, matched to the grind of her chakra as it chewed through stone. Voices, carts, footsteps, none of it registered. There was only pressure, resistance, and the quiet satisfaction of stone yielding exactly when and where she demanded.

That was why she almost startled when a hand touched her shoulder. Ruri snapped her chakra flow off instantly and turned, blinking once as the wider world rushed back in. Nozomi stood close, calm as ever, already gesturing for her to follow. Ruri wiped her forearm across her brow and nodded, jogging a few steps to where a separate stack of marble waited.

Nozomi didn’t waste words, just demonstrated. Where Ruri’s chakra cut like a continuous blade, Nozomi’s worked in controlled bursts, angled, deliberate, shaping rather than consuming. The stone curved instead of splitting straight, the cut following a shallow arc that produced a shingle with a clean taper and consistent depth. Bone and clay guided the fracture, supporting the stone until it separated exactly as intended. The result was elegant despite itself. Ruri watched closely, eyes narrowing, not with frustration, but with calculations already firing off in her mind.

She stepped forward without ceremony and tried and to her frustration, it was immediately harder. Her buzzsaw-like chakra wanted straight lines and uniform resistance. The shingles demanded the restraint of a lighter pressure, angled flow, constant adjustment. The first attempt came out usable, but rough, the second was better, the third chipped at the edge. Ruri clicked her tongue, irritation flashing, but she wasn't about to let this beat her. She refined the motion, pulling back on power, forcing her chakra to skim rather than bite. The sensation was uncomfortable, like writing with her non-dominant hand. Sweat dripped off her chin as concentration tightened its grip on her thoughts and, slowly but surely, it worked.

A neat pile of shingles formed beside her, each one smoother than the last. When her arms began to ache from the fine control, she pivoted back to slab cutting, letting the broader, more aggressive motion burn through the stiffness. When that began to feel too easy, she returned to the shingles. Back and forth. Slabs. Shingles. Slabs. Shingles.

Her pace never stopped, but it shifted constantly. Her muscles screamed from the constant adjustment. Her chakra pathways throbbed from being forced into two opposing disciplines at once. Still, she didn’t complain. Didn’t ask if it was enough, it never felt like enough anyway. Dust clung to her skin, sweat streaked through it, and her hands trembled faintly each time she paused, but every cut improved and every transition became smoother.

Ruri kept working until told otherwise, because that was the job. Her body wouldn't be happy for a while after this days work, but that was fine, beating yourself into submission was good practice, at least in her eyes that is.

[Class Post 2/5]
[Word Count - 614]
[Total Word Count - 1287]

Nozomi let a hand rest at Ruri’s shoulder only long enough to break her focus, then withdrew it just as cleanly. The work had found its rhythm. That mattered more than her praise, for now. She stepped back into motion immediately, eyes sweeping the springs with the practiced ease of someone tracking ten problems at once. The civilians had settled into lanes of labor lifting, carrying, and placing material in spaces previously fractured by destruction. Heat rose from the water in soft waves while the higher stone remained cold to the touch, slick with condensation. That contrast made footing treacherous in certain areas.

Bone slid from beneath her skin in quiet increments, pale and matte, shaped not as weapons but as structure. She pressed a hand to the ground and coaxed it upward into ribbed struts, each one angled deliberately. The structure locked into the stone like a joint finding its socket. Ladders formed where there had been none previously. She tested each with her own weight before waving people forward.

“Slow,” she instructed calmly, voice carrying without strain. “Three at a time. No more.”

She moved along the perimeter as the workers climbed upward, reinforcing edges, and bracing overhangs. Where marble sheets needed to be set along the higher walls, she shaped bone into temporary arms and braces. This allowed them to cradle the stone until it was anchored properly. Clay followed in small precise applications used to bind seams long enough for mortar to set.

Ruri shifted seamlessly into the new demands without needing to be told. Nozomi watched her transition between slab cutting and shingle shaping. Finally, she took the girl away from that path and towards where more assistance was now demanded. Lifting and placing, or aiding when the civilians reached an area too narrow for carts. Nozomi broke off a length of bone from her forearm and extended it toward Ruri without ceremony.

“Anchor here,” she said, tapping the rock face. “Use it as a rail.”

The bone reshaped itself as Ruri took hold turning into a scaffolding pole of sorts. Nozomi adjusted the opposite end, locking it into a natural notch in the stone. The result was a sling point sturdy enough to bear weight without grinding against the marble.

Stone moved overhead next as large shingles were hoisted carefully into place. Nozomi kept herself just behind the line of work, one eye on the civilians, the other on Ruri’s positioning. When a foot slipped, Nozomi was already there without comment or pause.

Hours passed in measurable progress. Stacks diminished where they were meant to. New lines of stone took shape along the springs’ curves, smoother and more intentional than what had existed before. Water redirected itself along the channels Nozomi had carved earlier, running clearer now, and steam began to rise evenly instead of creating a choking sensation if one breathed too hard.

For now, the springs were rising again. They were not done, but it was finally started to feel like they had solid direction. It would be downhill from here.

[WC: 509, Class: 3/5, Total WC: 1,000+]

With the finer cuts and careful shaping finished for the moment at least, Ruri found herself reassigned without ceremony. Not away from importance, just toward a different kind of necessity. The civilians could handle the measured work now. Mortar, alignment, repetition. What they couldn’t do safely were the tasks that demanded height, instability, and brute strength that usually required machines. That was where Nozomi led Ruri next, bone scaffolding blooming into place along sheer faces and narrow ledges where a misstep would mean broken limbs at best.

Nozomi explained simply, gesturing upwards as the job became clear to Ruri who nodded and stepped forward. Her chakra reserves were thin, stretched nearly to emptiness from hours of cutting and shaping stone. And honestly? She was grateful for it. This kind of work didn’t need finesse or constant flow. It needed muscle, leverage, balance, and the willingness to strain until something gave. That, she understood better than most. The first task was a slab of carved marble meant to reinforce a retaining wall, too heavy for four men to lift safely, let alone maneuver into position at height. Ruri wrapped her arms around it without hesitation, muscles tightening as she drew it close to her chest. The weight pressed into her ribs, heavy enough that she had to brace before lifting. Then she moved and as chakra flowed to her feet instead of her hands, anchoring her as she climbed the near-vertical scaffolding of bones. Each step was deliberate and calculated, showcasing her vastly improved control, earned over the days of working with Nozomi. The slab didn’t wobble once as she scaled the wall and wedged it into place, holding it steady until bone braces slid in beneath it to secure it permanently.

Next came a marble pillar. She took that one on her back, the stone resting across her shoulders as she bent forward and lifted with a sharp grunt. Her legs trembled, then steadied. Veins stood out along her neck and arms as she walked it across uneven ground, placing it upright where Nozomi directed. The moment it was stable, civilians surged in, scaffolding and beams rising around it almost immediately. Ruri barely paused as she moved on to a decorative stone basin, placed inn the middle of what would be the main spring pool. Then a carved window fitting, ornate and beautifully crafted. Then a massive ornamental boulder meant to become part of a water feature for a foot bath, once the channels were fully restored of course. Each piece was heavier than the last, each placement more precarious but Ruri thrived in it.

Sweat poured even more freely now, slicking her skin as drops fell from her body like a rain shower. Dust clung to her arms and shoulders, streaked away by motion and with every lift, her body revealed itself more clearly, not the soft, albeit toned frame of a child, but the dense, hardened build of someone forged by relentless training. Muscles rippled beneath her skin as she moved. Her breathing was heavy but steady and focused, there was no hesitation in her movements and no complaint even as her body creaked and groaned from within. This was where she felt right.

She hauled another stone column into place and laughed breathlessly as she set it down, the sound sharp with effort and satisfaction. Workers stared openly now, awe replacing uncertainty as they moved around her, trusting her to hold what they could not. Ruri wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist and immediately bent to lift the next piece. Her arms burned, her legs screamed and she just smiled through it.

This wasn’t just rebuilding a hot spring. This was proof that she was capable of good things, great things even. It showcased her ability to learn and grow, beyond the confines of the Shuusui clan. This truth was written in stone, sweat, and strain, she belonged exactly where she stood.

[Class Post 3/5]
[Word Count - 660]
[Total Word Count - 1947]

By the time the sun began its slow descent toward the western ridgeline, the work had changed in character.

The violence of construction and the thunder of stone being set into place had given way to something quieter, more deliberate. The hot springs no longer looked wounded. What stood before them now were edges, seams, and surfaces that needed care rather than force. Nozomi's constant readiness to react dulled into a heavy, full-bodied ache. Her hands felt thick and slow. The usual precision she applied had been dulled by hours of shaping bone and clay.

The civilians had spread out now, fewer voices raised, and even fewer tools clattered about. Polishing stones scraped softly across marble that produced a low steady hiss. Buckets of water were passed hand to hand to clean extra caulk off of surfaces. Nozomi moved through it all without hurry, sleeves rolled, hair tied back more tightly than usual to keep wet tangles from her eyes.

She knelt beside the main basin first. The marble there was newly set and so she ran her palm across its edge, feeling for inconsistencies with touch. Where she found them, bone emerged from her fingertips, not as wedges or supports, but as tools. She worked in short, precise motions to shave away imperfections until the stone answered her hands. The curse stirred faintly at the repeated manifestation like a low hum of impatience, but she kept it leashed. There were no longer large tasks to be completed and she would have to simply deal with the whining of the curse to continue forward.

She rose slowly, joints protesting, and moved to the retaining wall Ruri had helped raise earlier. The stone sat firm, exactly where it should, but Nozomi still tested it by pressing her weight. She would ask Ruri to double check each brace, and to tighten fastenings with bone keys that dissolved once their job was done. She adjusted angles by fractions of a degree, just enough to guide future water flow where it would not erode mortar or pool where it shouldn’t. Every change that she directed to Ruri at this point was small, but every change mattered a great deal.

The afternoon light caught on polished surfaces as she worked and steam drifted lazily now, no longer chaotic, but rising in even curtains that promised that this place would soon be whole again. She would move finally to the fixtures like the carved basins, footbath stones or ornamental channels. She asked Ruri to use her vision to check each joint and seam. Meanwhile, she would tap lightly with bone to listen for any hollow sounds that would betray a weakness of the structure. Luckily, there were none.

All the civilians had begun to go home at this point and that would soon be the path for Nozomi and Ruri as well. She would sit near the entrance to the springs, finally catching her breath, and awaiting Ruri to finish up the last of checking, patching, or polishing.

[WC: 502, Class: 4/5 Total WC: 1,000+]

Ruri stood still for a long moment, just taking it in. Steam drifted evenly now, no longer violent or choking, rising in calm curtains that caught the late afternoon light. The stone no longer looked broken, but whole once again. There were still smudges to clean, edges to polish, the sort of small imperfections that only revealed themselves once the rush was over. But the hard part was done and the springs felt like a place again, rather than a wound. Her body, on the other hand, disagreed loudly. The ache had settled deep into her bones, a heavy, throbbing pain that radiated through her shoulders, back, and legs with every movement. It wasn’t sharp but it was relentless, it made even standing still feel like a forced effort. She rolled her shoulders subtly, jaw tightening as she fought the instinct to groan.

"Worth it," she told herself.

She glanced over at Nozomi, watching her tie her hair back, damp strands clinging stubbornly to her neck and cheeks. Ruri snorted softly, unable to help herself.

“See, that’s why I keep mine short,” she said, gesturing vaguely at her own cropped, spiky hair. “Sweat makes long hair unbearable. Feels like it’s trying to strangle you.”

The moment passed easily, quiet and companionable. When Nozomi gave her the next task, Ruri moved immediately, grateful for something to do before her body just collapsed from finally being still. She began walking the perimeter of the springs, hands pressing against stone walls, leaning her weight into columns and joists, testing every repair with slow, deliberate force. Most held firm and when something shifted, even just a hair too much, she called it out. Nozomi responded without comment, producing a strange bone tool that locked the flaw into place before dissolving into powder. More dust to clean up, sure, but it was better than the potential alternative. This work was slower and calmer which she appreciated at this point. It was easier on her screaming muscles, even if they still protested every step. Once the physical checks were done, she activated her Byakugan, the familiar pressure blooming behind her eyes as she scanned deeper. Seams between stones, mortar lines, hidden supports, screws in timber, weight distribution in statues and decorative basins. She followed the water channels too, watching the flow slip smoothly through the carved paths, no leaks, no blockages, nothing that hadn’t already been accounted for. It was good, Thorough work. By the time she deactivated her eyes, the last of the civilians were packing up. Voices carried soft satisfaction now, tired jokes, relieved laughter, comments exchanged over shoulders.

“Never seen marble moved that fast without a crane.”

“Strong kid, that one.”

Ruri felt heat creep into her cheeks at that, pride swelling in her chest alongside a sharp edge of embarrassment. She ducked her head, pretending to fuss with a rag as they passed, but she didn’t miss the smiles. Eventually, the site emptied. Just her and Nozomi remained, standing near the entrance to the springs, both of them filthy, exhausted, and wearing the marks of a long day’s labor. Ruri planted her hands on her hips, stretching carefully, then looked back over the rebuilt stone one last time. A smile spread across her face, big, tired, and genuine.

“…This was fun,” she said quietly. “Felt nice. Being part of something that actually affects people, y’know?”

She breathed in the warm, mineral-scented air and let it out slowly, just letting the days of work sink in, it was over and she was a part of it.

[Class Post 4/5]
[Word Count - 593]
[Total Word Count - 2540]

The springs were quiet now that the civilians had packed up to leave. The only sounds left were the hush of running water and the sounds of the two shinobi breathing. The water caught the late afternoon light and softened the stone to feel gentle and the entire landscape once again felt serene in this place. Water moved where it was meant to and the stone held in place. Nozomi slowly pathed toward the edge of the main pool and took her boots off to lazily dip her toes into the steaming liquid below.

"Come on over."

She'd beckon to Ruri as the pain in her body reminded her of everything they had done in this past week. The ache was deep, it was the sort of pain that didn’t localize so much as exist everywhere at once. Shoulders heavy, forearms tight, and a dull soreness that threaded through her back. Even her hips hurt from lifting, shaping, and holding that had been repeated hundreds of times over the days that blurred together. Beneath it all, the familiar hum of bone and the curse lingered as an ever present battle. Luckily, it was quieter now, as if even it recognized that the work here was finished.

She glanced sideways, watching Ruri without staring. Dust still clung faintly to her as if it had been worked into her skin and fabric like a badge of honor. There was exhaustion there, unmistakably so, but it hadn’t hollowed her out. If anything, it had sharpened her. The woman that sat next to Nozomi now was no longer the same girl that stormed at her yelling angrily just a week ago. Nozomi felt something warm settle in her chest at the sight, something close to pride and heavier than simple satisfaction.

“You were right,” she said at last, voice calm, carrying easily in the open space. “About the hair.”

She lifted a hand, fingers brushing absently at her own longer strands that were still tied back. “Short keeps it out of the way. Also less to manage when you’re tired.” A faint pause. “I may take that advice.”

She let the words sit there, not forcing them into humor or deflecting their sincerity. Then, her gaze returned to the springs themselves. She lowered herself to fully sit beside Ruri rather than above her or further away. Their shoulders would not quite touch but were close enough to share the moment. There would be no more instruction or correction. Just to bask in each others presence and the feeling of a job well done.

"This place tried to kill you, but now it's whole again because of you. You've earned every bit of praise for this. You didn't just follow orders or react. You learned and adjusted. I see today a woman before me today that is very different from the girl I met just a week ago."

The steam thickened briefly as a breeze rolled through, carrying the mineral scent of the springs with it. Nozomi breathed it in and felt, for the first time since this all began, something close to peace. She was quiet for a moment longer, then turned her head enough to meet Ruri’s gaze directly.

“Tomorrow,” Nozomi said, “I’m meeting with the Kage and I’m going to recommend you for promotion.”

She held the look, steady and certain.

“No academy student should be capable of what you did here. And... you weren’t just capable, you exceeded expectation.”

At last, she leaned back on her hands and looked out over the water again, the reflection of stone and sky rippling softly.

“For now though, just enjoy what you helped build and let that sink in.”

The springs breathed around them now as a thing that was stronger and more beautiful than before.

[WC: 632, Class: 5/5 Total WC: 1,000+]

Ruri didn’t make it over gracefully, the moment she lowered herself to sit beside Nozomi, a quiet, undignified groan slipped out of her before she could stop it. Her legs protested the motion sharply, muscles tightening and then slowly giving way as she settled onto the stone. She rolled her shoulders once, then again, trying to ease the stiffness that had crept into every joint. The relief when her feet were relived of all weight was immediate. She let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, toes curling slightly as the heat seeped upward. For a second, she just sat there, eyes half-lidded, letting sensation return to places that had been numb for hours.

“…Wow,” she muttered under her breath. “I forgot this was a thing.”

At Nozomi’s comment about the hair, Ruri huffed a soft laugh. She glanced sideways, then, without really thinking about it, reached out. Her fingers brushed through a loose section of Nozomi’s hair, dusted pale from work but still smooth beneath the grit. She let it slip between her fingers once before releasing it.

“Nah,” she said easily. “Your hair’s pretty. Like… silky snow.”

A pause, then a crooked grin. “Just impractical.”

The closeness lingered for a few moments and when Nozomi shifted nearer, Ruri noticed it immediately. Not in any sharp or alarming way, just a sudden awareness. Heat that wasn’t coming from the steam in the air. The quiet sound of someone else breathing beside her. Her shoulders tensed for half a heartbeat before she forced herself to relax. It wasn’t bad, just unfamiliar. This was probably what friendship felt like, she decided. Long days shared together, exhaustion earned together, sitting side by side with nothing left to prove. Her senses prickled anyway, but she let it happen, trusting the feeling instead of fighting it. As Nozomi spoke again, Ruri listened in silence. Her gaze drifted across the springs, taking in the smooth lines of stone, the even flow of water, the way steam rose now in soft, steady curtains instead of violent, unsteady bursts. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter than usual.

“Honestly… I feel different.” She frowned slightly, searching for the right words.

“Like I learned something important. Not about chakra or strength or any of that.” Her fingers pressed lightly into the stone beneath her. “It’s been nice. Just… being myself. No expectations. No eyes waiting for me to mess up.” A breath. “I didn’t realize how much I hated that feeling until it wasn’t there.”

Then came the mention of the Raikage which made Ruri freeze. Her head snapped back toward Nozomi, pale eyes wide with genuine surprise. For a moment, she looked almost lost, as if the words hadn’t quite landed properly.

“You don’t—” she started, then stopped herself.

Her expression softened instead, something conflicted and earnest settling in its place.

“You don’t have to do that for me, Zomi,” she said quietly. “I just… did what was right.” A small, guilty smile tugged at her lips. “I wasn’t trying to earn anything.”

She turned away then, eyes returning to the springs. The work was done, it was whole and beautiful again. The knot that had been sitting in her chest for days finally loosened. Without thinking, without fear or hesitation, in just a moment of pure inocence, Ruri leaned back slightly and let her head rest against Nozomi’s shoulder. The contact was light, natural and unguarded as a long, satisfied sigh left her.

“…It’s done,” she murmured.

And for the first time since this all began, she let herself believe it.

[Class Post 5/5]
[Word Count - 600]
[Total Word Count - 3140]