It was time to pack, time to brace for the journey ahead. The weight of the mission, a new burden, pressed harder in the solitude of her cramped, private space. So much to consider—lives now rested in her hands. She knew she was better, sharper, stronger than the rest of her class. She’d breezed through the genin exams, barely settling into that rank before the title of Chuunin was thrust upon her. Team leader. A responsibility she couldn’t shake. Her mentor, Kyuji, likely knew this was coming long before she did. She always had that knowing glint in her eye, like she could see her future before she could.
Rika’s apartment was a pitiful sliver of space, a 5x12 room that felt more like a cage than a home. Her twin bed, thin and sagging, was shoved against the wall, a rickety desk pressed beside it, littered with scratches and old kunai marks. Near the door sat a dented fridge that hummed too loudly, a rusted stove she never used, and half a counter barely wide enough for a chopping board. Cooking wasn’t even an option; she survived on rations and whatever she could scrounge. The apartment building shared a grimy communal restroom down the hall. Showers were a luxury, 500 yen for five measly minutes. Water was scarce, and so was space. Every inch of this place screamed survival over comfort.
Rika perched on the edge of her bed, the mattress creaking under her slight frame. She rubbed her face with both hands, exhaustion seeping into her bones, then leaned forward, elbows digging into her knees. Her long black hair spilled over her face like a curtain, obscuring her view as she stared at the cracked wooden floor. She’d fought tooth and nail for this moment, this rank, this responsibility. She had to keep pushing, had to prove she belonged just as much as anyone else—maybe more. Failure wasn’t an option.
The memory clawed its way to the surface, unbidden, sharp as a kunai.
“Look at this clanless trash... She actually thinks she’s better than us, hah!” A boy’s voice, dripping with scorn, cut through the air. He towered just a bit over her, his blonde hair catching the sunlight, probably some pampered clan brat. Rika couldn’t recall his name, didn’t care to. He wasn’t alone—his pack of sneering lackeys circled her like vultures, their footsteps deliberate on the training ground’s dirt.
“I am better than you,” Rika shot back, crossing her arms over her chest, her voice steady despite the tightening in her gut.
The group erupted in harsh laughter, the sound grating against her ears.
“Not even your parents wanted you. How’s a freak like you supposed to be better?” one of the lackeys jeered, his smirk wide and ugly as he pointed at her.
The blonde boy stepped closer, his chest puffed out, and shoved her hard. “Yeah, a freak. A nobody like you? You’ll never be better. One day, it won’t matter how smart you think you are—” He punctuated his words with another rough push, his hands slamming into her shoulders.
Rika’s breath grew heavy, her chest constricting as if bands of steel were tightening around it. A searing heat burned just under her skin, rage simmering. Her eyebrows knit together, her glare piercing through the boy like a blade.
“Haha, not so loud now, huh?” the boy mocked, his grin widening. He knew she wouldn’t fight back—or thought he did. After all, she was the teacher’s pet, always playing by the rules, scraping for approval from the very people who looked down on her.
Then his fist swung, a blur of motion, and cracked against her cheek. Pain exploded across her face as she stumbled, collapsing to the ground. Her hand flew to her cheek, the sting radiating through her jaw. Before she could think, before she could stop herself, her hands moved on instinct. A surge of chakra, raw and wild, coursed through her. The boy screamed, a guttural cry of agony, as cuts bloomed across his body—deep, jagged lines from a ninjutsu she’d only recently mastered. Deadly, if she lost control. She stood, chest heaving, breaths ragged and uneven. By the time she realized what she’d done, the damage was irreversible.
“Wait, I didn’t mean to—” she stammered, reaching out with trembling hands, her voice cracking with panic. The rest blurred into a haze of shouts, blood, and consequences.
Her handlers ensured she’d never slip up like that again.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt him—I just—” Rika’s voice broke as she pounded her fists against the heavy door of her confinement. The room was suffocating, a tight, pitch-black cell that reeked of damp stone and despair. Bruises painted her skin in painful splotches, fresh cuts stinging across her cheek and shoulder. Her pleas echoed uselessly, swallowed by the silence. The isolation was worse than the beating—the endless, crushing solitude designed to break her, to teach her control through fear.
Now, slightly older, Rika was forged anew. Too strong to falter. Too hardened to make mistakes. Not again. She’d clawed her way to this point through blood and grit, and she wouldn’t let it slip through her fingers.
“I’m stronger than them,” she muttered to herself, her voice low but firm as she tugged her hair out of her face and sat up straight. She had to move, had to prepare. 'My team needs to know what I can do, so I can protect them. This mission—it’s bigger than any of us...' The thought lingered as she reached under her bed, dragging out an old, patched canvas bag. She stuffed it with a few worn clothes and a threadbare blanket. Uma, her steadfast companion, waited outside.
She’d head to the Renmei clan district soon for the team meeting. She wasn’t ready to bare her soul, not by a long shot, but revealing a piece of her secret, her ability, would be necessary. Slowing time, freezing it at her whim... she’d never dwelled on it much, but sometimes she wondered if it aged her differently. Maybe that’s why she stood a little taller than others her age. Time was a strange, slippery thing. One day, she might unravel its mysteries.
Rika glanced at the tiny cabinet in her so-called kitchen, barely more than a shelf above the counter. She swung it open, revealing... nothing. Bare wood stared back at her. “Oh, I could’ve sworn I left a can or two in here... Huh,” she mumbled to herself, scratching the back of her head as she shut the door with a soft thud.
“Guess Tsumugu’s handling food anyway. Those pills Lord Kazekage gave us should hold us over.” She grabbed the canvas bag off her bed, slinging it over her shoulder with a practiced motion. Her gaze swept across the tiny room one last time. She’d only lived here a week, but pride swelled in her chest. Her space. Her own. “I’m moving up. Can’t stop the enersha now~” she cheered under her breath, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she strode to the door, opened it, and stepped out. She locked it behind her with a click before heading outside.
The air felt different as she approached Uma, the massive sand-runner bird, waiting patiently for her. She secured the bag to its side, her hand lingering to stroke its sleek, feathered neck. The creature was striking, a silent beauty she already felt a bond with, though she’d never admit it aloud. A contract for a companion like this, she’d need one eventually. No clue how to go about it, though. Maybe Shin could teach her after this mission wrapped up. Speaking of Shin, she’d always assumed the Kazekage had perished, a faulty memory from some half-forgotten rumor. But no, he was very much alive, and more than that, he’d seen her potential, promoted her. The thrill of his recognition coursed through her. She burned to make him proud, to prove she deserved this rank, no matter the cost.
“Alright, Uma, we’re heading to the Renmei clan district. Gonna meet up with Uma, Uma, Ryuni, and Tsumugu there,” she said, climbing onto the bird’s back with a fluid motion, settling into the makeshift saddle. She gripped the reins and tilted her head, muttering to herself, “Huh, wonder how fast this ‘Uma’ joke will get old... You’re not even a horse, y’know.” A faint chuckle escaped her as she nudged the bird forward, the sand runner’s powerful legs kicking up dust as they moved toward their destination.
[MFT]
[WC: 1428]
[Topic Entered/left]
Rika’s apartment was a pitiful sliver of space, a 5x12 room that felt more like a cage than a home. Her twin bed, thin and sagging, was shoved against the wall, a rickety desk pressed beside it, littered with scratches and old kunai marks. Near the door sat a dented fridge that hummed too loudly, a rusted stove she never used, and half a counter barely wide enough for a chopping board. Cooking wasn’t even an option; she survived on rations and whatever she could scrounge. The apartment building shared a grimy communal restroom down the hall. Showers were a luxury, 500 yen for five measly minutes. Water was scarce, and so was space. Every inch of this place screamed survival over comfort.
Rika perched on the edge of her bed, the mattress creaking under her slight frame. She rubbed her face with both hands, exhaustion seeping into her bones, then leaned forward, elbows digging into her knees. Her long black hair spilled over her face like a curtain, obscuring her view as she stared at the cracked wooden floor. She’d fought tooth and nail for this moment, this rank, this responsibility. She had to keep pushing, had to prove she belonged just as much as anyone else—maybe more. Failure wasn’t an option.
Flashback: (Trigger warning)
The memory clawed its way to the surface, unbidden, sharp as a kunai.
“Look at this clanless trash... She actually thinks she’s better than us, hah!” A boy’s voice, dripping with scorn, cut through the air. He towered just a bit over her, his blonde hair catching the sunlight, probably some pampered clan brat. Rika couldn’t recall his name, didn’t care to. He wasn’t alone—his pack of sneering lackeys circled her like vultures, their footsteps deliberate on the training ground’s dirt.
“I am better than you,” Rika shot back, crossing her arms over her chest, her voice steady despite the tightening in her gut.
The group erupted in harsh laughter, the sound grating against her ears.
“Not even your parents wanted you. How’s a freak like you supposed to be better?” one of the lackeys jeered, his smirk wide and ugly as he pointed at her.
The blonde boy stepped closer, his chest puffed out, and shoved her hard. “Yeah, a freak. A nobody like you? You’ll never be better. One day, it won’t matter how smart you think you are—” He punctuated his words with another rough push, his hands slamming into her shoulders.
Rika’s breath grew heavy, her chest constricting as if bands of steel were tightening around it. A searing heat burned just under her skin, rage simmering. Her eyebrows knit together, her glare piercing through the boy like a blade.
“Haha, not so loud now, huh?” the boy mocked, his grin widening. He knew she wouldn’t fight back—or thought he did. After all, she was the teacher’s pet, always playing by the rules, scraping for approval from the very people who looked down on her.
Then his fist swung, a blur of motion, and cracked against her cheek. Pain exploded across her face as she stumbled, collapsing to the ground. Her hand flew to her cheek, the sting radiating through her jaw. Before she could think, before she could stop herself, her hands moved on instinct. A surge of chakra, raw and wild, coursed through her. The boy screamed, a guttural cry of agony, as cuts bloomed across his body—deep, jagged lines from a ninjutsu she’d only recently mastered. Deadly, if she lost control. She stood, chest heaving, breaths ragged and uneven. By the time she realized what she’d done, the damage was irreversible.
“Wait, I didn’t mean to—” she stammered, reaching out with trembling hands, her voice cracking with panic. The rest blurred into a haze of shouts, blood, and consequences.
Her handlers ensured she’d never slip up like that again.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt him—I just—” Rika’s voice broke as she pounded her fists against the heavy door of her confinement. The room was suffocating, a tight, pitch-black cell that reeked of damp stone and despair. Bruises painted her skin in painful splotches, fresh cuts stinging across her cheek and shoulder. Her pleas echoed uselessly, swallowed by the silence. The isolation was worse than the beating—the endless, crushing solitude designed to break her, to teach her control through fear.
Present:
Now, slightly older, Rika was forged anew. Too strong to falter. Too hardened to make mistakes. Not again. She’d clawed her way to this point through blood and grit, and she wouldn’t let it slip through her fingers.
“I’m stronger than them,” she muttered to herself, her voice low but firm as she tugged her hair out of her face and sat up straight. She had to move, had to prepare. 'My team needs to know what I can do, so I can protect them. This mission—it’s bigger than any of us...' The thought lingered as she reached under her bed, dragging out an old, patched canvas bag. She stuffed it with a few worn clothes and a threadbare blanket. Uma, her steadfast companion, waited outside.
She’d head to the Renmei clan district soon for the team meeting. She wasn’t ready to bare her soul, not by a long shot, but revealing a piece of her secret, her ability, would be necessary. Slowing time, freezing it at her whim... she’d never dwelled on it much, but sometimes she wondered if it aged her differently. Maybe that’s why she stood a little taller than others her age. Time was a strange, slippery thing. One day, she might unravel its mysteries.
Rika glanced at the tiny cabinet in her so-called kitchen, barely more than a shelf above the counter. She swung it open, revealing... nothing. Bare wood stared back at her. “Oh, I could’ve sworn I left a can or two in here... Huh,” she mumbled to herself, scratching the back of her head as she shut the door with a soft thud.
“Guess Tsumugu’s handling food anyway. Those pills Lord Kazekage gave us should hold us over.” She grabbed the canvas bag off her bed, slinging it over her shoulder with a practiced motion. Her gaze swept across the tiny room one last time. She’d only lived here a week, but pride swelled in her chest. Her space. Her own. “I’m moving up. Can’t stop the enersha now~” she cheered under her breath, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she strode to the door, opened it, and stepped out. She locked it behind her with a click before heading outside.
The air felt different as she approached Uma, the massive sand-runner bird, waiting patiently for her. She secured the bag to its side, her hand lingering to stroke its sleek, feathered neck. The creature was striking, a silent beauty she already felt a bond with, though she’d never admit it aloud. A contract for a companion like this, she’d need one eventually. No clue how to go about it, though. Maybe Shin could teach her after this mission wrapped up. Speaking of Shin, she’d always assumed the Kazekage had perished, a faulty memory from some half-forgotten rumor. But no, he was very much alive, and more than that, he’d seen her potential, promoted her. The thrill of his recognition coursed through her. She burned to make him proud, to prove she deserved this rank, no matter the cost.
“Alright, Uma, we’re heading to the Renmei clan district. Gonna meet up with Uma, Uma, Ryuni, and Tsumugu there,” she said, climbing onto the bird’s back with a fluid motion, settling into the makeshift saddle. She gripped the reins and tilted her head, muttering to herself, “Huh, wonder how fast this ‘Uma’ joke will get old... You’re not even a horse, y’know.” A faint chuckle escaped her as she nudged the bird forward, the sand runner’s powerful legs kicking up dust as they moved toward their destination.
[MFT]
[WC: 1428]
[Topic Entered/left]