A faint, sterile light filtered in through the blinds of the hospital window, casting pale stripes against the whitewashed walls and drifting over the bed where Senju Akio stirred back to consciousness. He didn’t notice at first. He was too busy trying to recall the dream he’d been having, something about a sunlit forest and his grandfather’s smiling face, but as he blinked awake, that dream slipped away like water through his fingertips. He realized he was in a bed. A hospital bed. Suddenly, his heart began pounding so violently that he could barely catch his breath. “Where…?” He managed to whisper, struggling to sit up on unsteady arms. The last thing he remembered was being in the exam, fighting alongside his friends to keep progressing as shinobi. "I... must have failed..." He thought to himself, unable to remember exactly what happened, but immediately clenching his fists and feeling awful for letting his best friends down.
Pain raced through his limbs at the movement, and Akio cringed, looking down to see that he was still hooked up to some sort of IV. The lines and tubes were all tangled, like a messy spiderweb anchoring him in place. With his free hand, the boy rubbed at his eyes, fighting back a dizziness that swam in his head. Eventually, the pounding in his chest slowed enough that he heard it: the suffocating silence that pressed in on all sides. Where were the nurses? Where was the usual bustle of the Konoha Byoin’s busy wards? Even as he tried to call out, his throat felt dry, like he hadn’t spoken in ages. “H-Hello?! Anybody?”
Akio forced himself to slide off the bed, tugging the IV stand behind him as he peered into the corridor. Fluorescent lights flickered, revealing row after row of empty rooms—empty except for the unconscious shinobi who lay comatose on their beds, unmoving. The sight made his stomach knot with dread. This was no ordinary hospital scene. This was a husk of the place he remembered, a place that used to bustle with med-nin, visitors, and the anxious chatter of families. Now it was as though time had frozen in place, the entire world trapped in a silent, unending night. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he walked past beds of sleeping, unmoving Leaf shinobi. The pang of compassion in his chest was overwhelming, causing his young eyes to water at the sight of so many lives hanging in limbo.
“Nao-sensei?” Akio called softly, voice cracking as he pressed on. He thought of that warm, albeit rare, smile, the reassuring presence that had guided him before the exam. “Where are you?” A tremor took hold of the young Senju's voice the moment he spoke those words. The hallway offered no response, just the distant hum of old machinery. His mind raced with questions he couldn’t answer. Had Nao fallen ill too? Or worse, was he somewhere out there fighting this disease alone? The boy’s heart sank further when he realized Kiriyomi, Keniwa, and all the friends he’d grown to cherish might be just like the silent figures around him, lost in the same nightmare he’d only just escaped. Tears threatened to spill over as he recalled the lively banter he used to share with them. “Kiri... Keni... Why aren’t you here?” He murmured helplessly, voice shaking with the raw ache of betrayal and confusion. A moment later, the tears slipped free, his pure heart forcing them past those viridian eyes he tried to keep from leaking, tiny rivulets tracing down his cheeks.
He pressed on, determined not to let the loneliness swallow him whole, even if his legs trembled beneath him. Step by step, he made his way past the nurse’s station, abandoned and covered in a film of dust, until he reached a pair of heavy double doors leading to the next ward. He stood there a moment, tears still drying on his face, trying to gather the courage that once came so effortlessly. “Grandpa always told me… that when things get hard or scary or bad... just keep going. That nature… nature will always carry on.” He whispered, voice wavering. Even though the emptiness around him felt almost suffocating, Akio clung to that memory, thinking of his grandfather kneeling beside a sapling and telling him about destiny. He couldn’t give in to the panic now. If Nao was here, or anywhere, Akio had to find him. That single purpose renewed a sliver of hope in his chest.
Gathering what little energy he had, Akio shoved the doors open and ventured deeper into the hospital’s hushed corridors. With each careful step, he glanced into darkened patient rooms and half-closed doors, searching desperately for some sign of the one man he believed could make sense of all this. “Nao-sensei… please…” He whispered, voice trembling on the edge of a sob. His tears glimmered under the artificial lights, and he clenched his fist around the IV stand, holding it so tight his knuckles turned white. Outside, the world felt unrecognizable, and inside, he was all alone. But the usually-sunny Senju, pure of heart and guided by the compassion that never abandoned him, refused to stop.
If there was any chance that someone he cared about and who could help was out there, he would find them, no matter how broken this once-familiar world had become.
[MFT .:. 895 Words]
Pain raced through his limbs at the movement, and Akio cringed, looking down to see that he was still hooked up to some sort of IV. The lines and tubes were all tangled, like a messy spiderweb anchoring him in place. With his free hand, the boy rubbed at his eyes, fighting back a dizziness that swam in his head. Eventually, the pounding in his chest slowed enough that he heard it: the suffocating silence that pressed in on all sides. Where were the nurses? Where was the usual bustle of the Konoha Byoin’s busy wards? Even as he tried to call out, his throat felt dry, like he hadn’t spoken in ages. “H-Hello?! Anybody?”
Akio forced himself to slide off the bed, tugging the IV stand behind him as he peered into the corridor. Fluorescent lights flickered, revealing row after row of empty rooms—empty except for the unconscious shinobi who lay comatose on their beds, unmoving. The sight made his stomach knot with dread. This was no ordinary hospital scene. This was a husk of the place he remembered, a place that used to bustle with med-nin, visitors, and the anxious chatter of families. Now it was as though time had frozen in place, the entire world trapped in a silent, unending night. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he walked past beds of sleeping, unmoving Leaf shinobi. The pang of compassion in his chest was overwhelming, causing his young eyes to water at the sight of so many lives hanging in limbo.
“Nao-sensei?” Akio called softly, voice cracking as he pressed on. He thought of that warm, albeit rare, smile, the reassuring presence that had guided him before the exam. “Where are you?” A tremor took hold of the young Senju's voice the moment he spoke those words. The hallway offered no response, just the distant hum of old machinery. His mind raced with questions he couldn’t answer. Had Nao fallen ill too? Or worse, was he somewhere out there fighting this disease alone? The boy’s heart sank further when he realized Kiriyomi, Keniwa, and all the friends he’d grown to cherish might be just like the silent figures around him, lost in the same nightmare he’d only just escaped. Tears threatened to spill over as he recalled the lively banter he used to share with them. “Kiri... Keni... Why aren’t you here?” He murmured helplessly, voice shaking with the raw ache of betrayal and confusion. A moment later, the tears slipped free, his pure heart forcing them past those viridian eyes he tried to keep from leaking, tiny rivulets tracing down his cheeks.
He pressed on, determined not to let the loneliness swallow him whole, even if his legs trembled beneath him. Step by step, he made his way past the nurse’s station, abandoned and covered in a film of dust, until he reached a pair of heavy double doors leading to the next ward. He stood there a moment, tears still drying on his face, trying to gather the courage that once came so effortlessly. “Grandpa always told me… that when things get hard or scary or bad... just keep going. That nature… nature will always carry on.” He whispered, voice wavering. Even though the emptiness around him felt almost suffocating, Akio clung to that memory, thinking of his grandfather kneeling beside a sapling and telling him about destiny. He couldn’t give in to the panic now. If Nao was here, or anywhere, Akio had to find him. That single purpose renewed a sliver of hope in his chest.
Gathering what little energy he had, Akio shoved the doors open and ventured deeper into the hospital’s hushed corridors. With each careful step, he glanced into darkened patient rooms and half-closed doors, searching desperately for some sign of the one man he believed could make sense of all this. “Nao-sensei… please…” He whispered, voice trembling on the edge of a sob. His tears glimmered under the artificial lights, and he clenched his fist around the IV stand, holding it so tight his knuckles turned white. Outside, the world felt unrecognizable, and inside, he was all alone. But the usually-sunny Senju, pure of heart and guided by the compassion that never abandoned him, refused to stop.
If there was any chance that someone he cared about and who could help was out there, he would find them, no matter how broken this once-familiar world had become.
[MFT .:. 895 Words]
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