The barn doors stood open like a great yawning mouth, light spilling forth into the cool evening air. Particles of dirt drift in the golden beams of light which have been stirred up by the gaggle of excited children already piling inside. Their voices rose in a shrill chorus of taunts, laughter, and whispers sharp enough to cut. Somewhere within, the smell of hay and the musk of animals mixed with the faint tang of oil lamps enveloping the whole place in a strange warmth. After all, it was a season of joy as The Dragon Festival was upon Kumogakure, and there was a great sense of pride spreading throughout the village.
Nozomi Ryuu stood at the edge of the dirt path, watching the glow of the barn as though it were some forbidden shrine. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, her stomach twisting with that familiar mix of longing and dread. She had heard whispers all day about the tournament taking place tonight. It was apparently common that the children of the Ryuu clan gathered here to spar in mock battles, their skills tested before an audience of their cousins. It was part tradition and part rite of passage. To be noticed here was to carve a place within the hierarchal structure of the Ryuu family.
Though Nozomi hadn’t been invited, and the weight of that alone stung the young girl.
Her pale hair gleamed faintly in the twilight, catching the last strands of the setting sun. She tugged at the loose ribbon tying it back and quietly wished the strands were darker, a hope that it were anything but this unnatural, silvery blonde that marked her as different. The other children had created plenty of names for her, but the one that stuck most was 'White Noise.' A play on her hair and the fact they believed she was so crazy it was just constant static within her brain. Among the Ryuu, white hair wasn’t beauty. It was a sign of madness, of a broken mind and violent temper. There were whispers of ancestors who had turned against their own people, and every story began the same way: with hair as pale as the moon.
Her mother had tried to soothe her once, brushing her hair with gentle hands, saying it was the mark of light itself, something of purity. While the words would calm her in the moment, each day brought the same challenge. The rest of the clan didn’t see purity. They saw danger, and its name was Nozomi. So, she pulled in a breath and stepped forward, crunching along the gravel. Inside the barn, the noise swelled. She slipped through the open door, and the shift in climate was felt immediately.
The laughter faltered, the whispers sharpened, and every eye turned her way.
“We should have heard the White Noise coming.” someone hissed, and a ripple of laughter followed.
Nozomi’s jaw tightened but she kept moving forward along on the hay covered floor. The barn had been cleared of animals for the night, the stalls pushed back, the center ringed with makeshift Dragon lanterns. The dueling ground was a wide circle marked by rope. Even before she arrived, pairs of children had been fighting and remains of splintered wooden kunai and practice staffs were scattered amongst the floor. There was a tension continuing to rise now that she was present. It felt less like a celebration and more like a cask ready to be lit for grand display.
At the far end, leaning in the shadows of the loft, stood a man most of the children hadn’t noticed. His cloak was plain, but the faint gleam of steel at his hip spoke volumes. His eyes were sharp as razors and they followed every motion within the room. Every tournament had a supervisor but rarely were they so obvious. He was here to watch, to judge, and to decide which of the Ryuu children were worthy.
“Hey, ghost hair!” A boy stepped into the circle, tall for his age, and with broad shoulders. Ryuu Taro, the favored son of the south fields. He twirled a staff in one hand easily, the wood whistling through the air.
“What are you doing here? Did you get lost?”
Snickers erupted and Nozomi’s lips pressed into a thin line. She refused to answer. Another girl stepped forward, Ryuu Kaede. She was Nozomi's age with cruel eyes and a twisted mouth.
“She thinks she can fight,” Kaede said loudly, so the whole barn could hear. “These matches are for real Ryuu. You're not allowed to stay and curse us with your White Hair!”
The circle of children tightened and began to pack around Nozomi, voices jeering.
“Kick her out! She's Cursed!”
“White Noise doesn’t belong here.”
Nozomi didn’t retreat. Instead, she stepped forward and allowed the lanterns to paint her silhouette against the ground in shadow. Her pale hair gleamed an almost silver color, and her eyes stared straight ahead, unblinking.
“If you’re not afraid,” Nozomi said softly, “then fight me.”
The barn fell quiet, the silence sharp as a blade. Taro grinned with confidence, his staff spinning.
“Fine. If you want to embarrass yourself, I’ll be glad to help.”
Cheers rang out. A duel was always good entertainment, and humiliating Nozomi was a sport everyone enjoyed. The ropes were adjusted, the children pressing in closer, the lanterns swaying as bodies jostled. Meanwhile, the Jounin in the shadows tilted his head, interest flickering in his eyes. The duel began with a countdown from the children surrounding the pair, but Taro jumped to action before the final count.
He lunged first, staff swinging down in a brutal arc. Nozomi darted aside, the blow slamming into the dirt where she had stood, and hay burst upward in a cloud. She moved lightly as barefooted grace carried her just beyond reach. Taro swung again, horizontal this time, the staff a blur. Nozomi ducked, rolled, and came up behind him. Her hand shot out, striking the small of his back with the flat of her palm.
The crowd gasped.
Taro stumbled forward, whirling in fury. “You little!!!”
His staff became a storm, a flurry of strikes meant to overwhelm. Nozomi bent and twisted, her body flowing like water around each blow. She didn’t meet force with force as the boy was much stronger than she. Instead, she redirected, letting the momentum slip past her and turning near strikes into misses. It was an older style, not common amongst the Ryuu. Nozomi flowed over stone until it was worn and broken. She would dance like the wind cutting down a tree, not with strength, but with the patience of time.
A gap appeared within the whirling onslaught of attacks. Nozomi stepped inside, her elbow snapping upward. The staff jolted from Taro’s grip and clattered to the dirt below. Before he could recover, she planted her palm against his chest and shoved him, hard. He hit the ground with a thud as air blasted from his lungs. Nozomi did not let up and swiftly kicked the staff into her own palms before holding the blunt end like a sword point to Taro's throat.
The barn erupted in noise.
“No way... Sh..She Cheated! That doesn't count, she's cursed!” Taro began to complain as he pushed the staff away and rose to his feet.
Kaede chimed in as well, “Yeah! It doesn’t count! She's a freak anyway!”
The circle tightened again, anger rising like a storm. Children shouted, voices cracking with outrage and fear. Insults were hurled and accusations spat. Several picked up staffs, others kunai, and some just brandished their fists. The crowd became a mob and their fury was centered on Nozomi. She stood tall in the center, chest heaving, sweat streaking her temple. Her pale hair glowed in the lamplight, marking her as something hated. For a moment, fear coiled in her gut. Then a voice cut through the noise.
“Enough.”
It wasn’t loud, but it carried across the room with great weight. The barn fell silent and every head turned. The Jounin stepped from the shadows, his cloak falling open, the glint of his forehead protector clear now in the lamplight. His gaze swept across the children like a blade, freezing them where they stood.
“Ryuu Nozomi won this match. Fairly. Taro, you have been eliminated, and must now sit and watch your fellow clanmates. If you cannot stomach that truth, then perhaps you are not worthy of calling yourself a Ryuu.”
The words struck like a hammer and a murmur rippled across the room. Though there was silent protest, none dared speak against him.
The silence held, and Nozomi could feel her chest tightening. She thought she might cry or scream, instead, she was brushed out of the way by another Ryuu. The girl was around her own age, with dark brown hair and a wicked smile.
Taking center stage she would announce, "Guess we better get on to the next round then! Who wants to challenge me?"
[Event for the Dragon Festival!]
[Open for others to join!]
[Marked for Training - Word Count: 1504]
Nozomi Ryuu stood at the edge of the dirt path, watching the glow of the barn as though it were some forbidden shrine. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, her stomach twisting with that familiar mix of longing and dread. She had heard whispers all day about the tournament taking place tonight. It was apparently common that the children of the Ryuu clan gathered here to spar in mock battles, their skills tested before an audience of their cousins. It was part tradition and part rite of passage. To be noticed here was to carve a place within the hierarchal structure of the Ryuu family.
Though Nozomi hadn’t been invited, and the weight of that alone stung the young girl.
Her pale hair gleamed faintly in the twilight, catching the last strands of the setting sun. She tugged at the loose ribbon tying it back and quietly wished the strands were darker, a hope that it were anything but this unnatural, silvery blonde that marked her as different. The other children had created plenty of names for her, but the one that stuck most was 'White Noise.' A play on her hair and the fact they believed she was so crazy it was just constant static within her brain. Among the Ryuu, white hair wasn’t beauty. It was a sign of madness, of a broken mind and violent temper. There were whispers of ancestors who had turned against their own people, and every story began the same way: with hair as pale as the moon.
Her mother had tried to soothe her once, brushing her hair with gentle hands, saying it was the mark of light itself, something of purity. While the words would calm her in the moment, each day brought the same challenge. The rest of the clan didn’t see purity. They saw danger, and its name was Nozomi. So, she pulled in a breath and stepped forward, crunching along the gravel. Inside the barn, the noise swelled. She slipped through the open door, and the shift in climate was felt immediately.
The laughter faltered, the whispers sharpened, and every eye turned her way.
“We should have heard the White Noise coming.” someone hissed, and a ripple of laughter followed.
Nozomi’s jaw tightened but she kept moving forward along on the hay covered floor. The barn had been cleared of animals for the night, the stalls pushed back, the center ringed with makeshift Dragon lanterns. The dueling ground was a wide circle marked by rope. Even before she arrived, pairs of children had been fighting and remains of splintered wooden kunai and practice staffs were scattered amongst the floor. There was a tension continuing to rise now that she was present. It felt less like a celebration and more like a cask ready to be lit for grand display.
At the far end, leaning in the shadows of the loft, stood a man most of the children hadn’t noticed. His cloak was plain, but the faint gleam of steel at his hip spoke volumes. His eyes were sharp as razors and they followed every motion within the room. Every tournament had a supervisor but rarely were they so obvious. He was here to watch, to judge, and to decide which of the Ryuu children were worthy.
“Hey, ghost hair!” A boy stepped into the circle, tall for his age, and with broad shoulders. Ryuu Taro, the favored son of the south fields. He twirled a staff in one hand easily, the wood whistling through the air.
“What are you doing here? Did you get lost?”
Snickers erupted and Nozomi’s lips pressed into a thin line. She refused to answer. Another girl stepped forward, Ryuu Kaede. She was Nozomi's age with cruel eyes and a twisted mouth.
“She thinks she can fight,” Kaede said loudly, so the whole barn could hear. “These matches are for real Ryuu. You're not allowed to stay and curse us with your White Hair!”
The circle of children tightened and began to pack around Nozomi, voices jeering.
“Kick her out! She's Cursed!”
“White Noise doesn’t belong here.”
Nozomi didn’t retreat. Instead, she stepped forward and allowed the lanterns to paint her silhouette against the ground in shadow. Her pale hair gleamed an almost silver color, and her eyes stared straight ahead, unblinking.
“If you’re not afraid,” Nozomi said softly, “then fight me.”
The barn fell quiet, the silence sharp as a blade. Taro grinned with confidence, his staff spinning.
“Fine. If you want to embarrass yourself, I’ll be glad to help.”
Cheers rang out. A duel was always good entertainment, and humiliating Nozomi was a sport everyone enjoyed. The ropes were adjusted, the children pressing in closer, the lanterns swaying as bodies jostled. Meanwhile, the Jounin in the shadows tilted his head, interest flickering in his eyes. The duel began with a countdown from the children surrounding the pair, but Taro jumped to action before the final count.
He lunged first, staff swinging down in a brutal arc. Nozomi darted aside, the blow slamming into the dirt where she had stood, and hay burst upward in a cloud. She moved lightly as barefooted grace carried her just beyond reach. Taro swung again, horizontal this time, the staff a blur. Nozomi ducked, rolled, and came up behind him. Her hand shot out, striking the small of his back with the flat of her palm.
The crowd gasped.
Taro stumbled forward, whirling in fury. “You little!!!”
His staff became a storm, a flurry of strikes meant to overwhelm. Nozomi bent and twisted, her body flowing like water around each blow. She didn’t meet force with force as the boy was much stronger than she. Instead, she redirected, letting the momentum slip past her and turning near strikes into misses. It was an older style, not common amongst the Ryuu. Nozomi flowed over stone until it was worn and broken. She would dance like the wind cutting down a tree, not with strength, but with the patience of time.
A gap appeared within the whirling onslaught of attacks. Nozomi stepped inside, her elbow snapping upward. The staff jolted from Taro’s grip and clattered to the dirt below. Before he could recover, she planted her palm against his chest and shoved him, hard. He hit the ground with a thud as air blasted from his lungs. Nozomi did not let up and swiftly kicked the staff into her own palms before holding the blunt end like a sword point to Taro's throat.
The barn erupted in noise.
“No way... Sh..She Cheated! That doesn't count, she's cursed!” Taro began to complain as he pushed the staff away and rose to his feet.
Kaede chimed in as well, “Yeah! It doesn’t count! She's a freak anyway!”
The circle tightened again, anger rising like a storm. Children shouted, voices cracking with outrage and fear. Insults were hurled and accusations spat. Several picked up staffs, others kunai, and some just brandished their fists. The crowd became a mob and their fury was centered on Nozomi. She stood tall in the center, chest heaving, sweat streaking her temple. Her pale hair glowed in the lamplight, marking her as something hated. For a moment, fear coiled in her gut. Then a voice cut through the noise.
“Enough.”
It wasn’t loud, but it carried across the room with great weight. The barn fell silent and every head turned. The Jounin stepped from the shadows, his cloak falling open, the glint of his forehead protector clear now in the lamplight. His gaze swept across the children like a blade, freezing them where they stood.
“Ryuu Nozomi won this match. Fairly. Taro, you have been eliminated, and must now sit and watch your fellow clanmates. If you cannot stomach that truth, then perhaps you are not worthy of calling yourself a Ryuu.”
The words struck like a hammer and a murmur rippled across the room. Though there was silent protest, none dared speak against him.
The silence held, and Nozomi could feel her chest tightening. She thought she might cry or scream, instead, she was brushed out of the way by another Ryuu. The girl was around her own age, with dark brown hair and a wicked smile.
Taking center stage she would announce, "Guess we better get on to the next round then! Who wants to challenge me?"
[Event for the Dragon Festival!]
[Open for others to join!]
[Marked for Training - Word Count: 1504]
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