The morning air was cold as Nozomi stood at the base of the Torre Empirea, craning her neck just enough to take in the full height of the central spire before forcing herself to stillness again. Five towers rose together like the fingers of a single hand, art deco lines catching the light in deliberate angles. Polished stone and inlaid metal reflected the sky in pale bands of gold and steel-blue. Power lived here, not the explosive kind that she understood instinctively, but the sort whose decisions change the fate of the nation as a whole. She adjusted her posture without thinking, spine straightening, and shoulders settling into something unassuming. This was not a place for intimidation or bravado.
The Legation’s main entrance was already active as administrators moved with efficiency. Civilians passed through controlled checkpoints, and shinobi in uniform paused to confer before being ushered toward elevators guarded by silent ANBU. Nozomi approached alone with empty hands that licked nervously at her palms. Her chakra was pulled tight and shallow beneath her skin to make sure she set off no alarms. Even the curse seemed to play nice and its usual restless hum dampened into a low, resentful murmur.
Inside, the air changed immediately. The lobby was cavernous with beautifully tiled floors in geometric patterns, walls accented with brass filigree, and stylized lightning motifs worked into the architecture itself. Everything here spoke of modernity layered atop tradition, like a new power built with an appreciation for the history that brought it about. Her sandals sounded far too loud against the floor, and she hated that she could notice her own steps. Still, she made no effort to have chakra dampen the sound.
A reception desk waited ahead, manned by two clerks whose expressions suggested they had already processed a hundred requests before breakfast. Nozomi stopped at the designated marker, bowed once and spoke when acknowledged.
“My name is Ryuu Nozomi,” she said evenly. “I am here to formally request an audience with the Raikage.”
The words felt heavier than they should have. One clerk glanced down at a ledger to quickly assess. There was no overt hostility that came from the receptionists, but no warmth either.
“Purpose?” the clerk asked.
“I wish to submit a civic report and a recommendation regarding rank advancement,” she replied. “On behalf of a kunoichi under my supervision during a village reconstruction effort.”
That earned her a pause. The clerk’s gaze sharpened as if he was suspicious, she had said something which caused alert and pens stilled. Though as a few names were checked and a runner was dispatched without explanation, she exhaled. Nozomi waited, hands folded loosely in front of her as she maintained a carefully neutral look upon her face. This was the part she disliked the most... Waiting while others decided whether she was worth hearing out, or not.
She was eventually directed toward a secondary office that was relatively small and quiet. The room was paneled in dark wood and brass trim and a secretary sat behind a polished wooden desk in a corner near the entrance. The woman would explain procedure and Nozomi listened carefully, committing each rule to memory.
She was to remain seated, she was not to approach the inner doors for any reason, and she was not allowed to speak unless addressed directly. Then she was reassured that the Raikage would absolutely see her when time permitted. She nodded to each instruction as if they were already familiar to her.
The secretary gestured to a chair near the wall across from the inner doors. So, she sat carefully, with her back straight and hands resting on her thighs as if she had practiced her posture for this very moment. Still, Nozomi could not help but feel a pit in her stomach, and she had to remind herself that it was not fear, it was anticipation.
The Legation’s main entrance was already active as administrators moved with efficiency. Civilians passed through controlled checkpoints, and shinobi in uniform paused to confer before being ushered toward elevators guarded by silent ANBU. Nozomi approached alone with empty hands that licked nervously at her palms. Her chakra was pulled tight and shallow beneath her skin to make sure she set off no alarms. Even the curse seemed to play nice and its usual restless hum dampened into a low, resentful murmur.
Inside, the air changed immediately. The lobby was cavernous with beautifully tiled floors in geometric patterns, walls accented with brass filigree, and stylized lightning motifs worked into the architecture itself. Everything here spoke of modernity layered atop tradition, like a new power built with an appreciation for the history that brought it about. Her sandals sounded far too loud against the floor, and she hated that she could notice her own steps. Still, she made no effort to have chakra dampen the sound.
A reception desk waited ahead, manned by two clerks whose expressions suggested they had already processed a hundred requests before breakfast. Nozomi stopped at the designated marker, bowed once and spoke when acknowledged.
“My name is Ryuu Nozomi,” she said evenly. “I am here to formally request an audience with the Raikage.”
The words felt heavier than they should have. One clerk glanced down at a ledger to quickly assess. There was no overt hostility that came from the receptionists, but no warmth either.
“Purpose?” the clerk asked.
“I wish to submit a civic report and a recommendation regarding rank advancement,” she replied. “On behalf of a kunoichi under my supervision during a village reconstruction effort.”
That earned her a pause. The clerk’s gaze sharpened as if he was suspicious, she had said something which caused alert and pens stilled. Though as a few names were checked and a runner was dispatched without explanation, she exhaled. Nozomi waited, hands folded loosely in front of her as she maintained a carefully neutral look upon her face. This was the part she disliked the most... Waiting while others decided whether she was worth hearing out, or not.
She was eventually directed toward a secondary office that was relatively small and quiet. The room was paneled in dark wood and brass trim and a secretary sat behind a polished wooden desk in a corner near the entrance. The woman would explain procedure and Nozomi listened carefully, committing each rule to memory.
She was to remain seated, she was not to approach the inner doors for any reason, and she was not allowed to speak unless addressed directly. Then she was reassured that the Raikage would absolutely see her when time permitted. She nodded to each instruction as if they were already familiar to her.
The secretary gestured to a chair near the wall across from the inner doors. So, she sat carefully, with her back straight and hands resting on her thighs as if she had practiced her posture for this very moment. Still, Nozomi could not help but feel a pit in her stomach, and she had to remind herself that it was not fear, it was anticipation.
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